Originally appearing on Facebook on 2 September 2013
Aristotle introduced in his Nicomachean Ethics—and I am paraphrasing—that the best activities tend to be the most useless because they are merely a means to serve a greater ends. In other words, one who works to make money does so not because working, unto itself, is a worthy activity, but rather because earning money is important—not true in all cases, I admit, but sensible enough to serve as a basis. Yet, earning money, in and of itself, does not inherently possess its own value, but is rather used to obtain further goods or services, which in turn serves yet other ends. This ‘ends’ to serve as a ‘means’ relationship infinitely regresses until nothing has value, precisely because all things possess tangible value. In my example, the activity of working, sensible in function and necessary to wellbeing though it is, ultimately subordinates to a greater 'ends,' and therefore is inherently of lesser value than the 'ends' it serves.
There are certain 'ends' that serve no other 'means' than to fulfill its own good. The function of building a virtuous character, for instance, useless though it may seem in the tangible sense amidst a culture that places so a high a value on "better activities" (like earning money), is, in actuality, the most important activity we could endeavor to perfect.
One example of this comes from an encounter I had this summer with one of my Soldiers. I said, "You know, one of the least understood, and therefore the most neglected dimension of comprehensive Soldier fitness, is the spiritual dimension."
The battlefield promoted and newly minted Staff Sergeant, a year my junior, sat on a wooden bench beside me on a patio deck that he helped build early in the deployment.
"And when I say spiritual," I continued, careful not to tread into sensitive areas, "I do not mean 'religious'. I think that's the mistake Soldiers make when they hear that the Army wants Soldiers to be spiritually fit.' It sounds like the Army saying 'we want our Soldiers to be Christian,' or ''we want our Soldiers to be religious', or '... to go to church,' and that's not what the Army leadership is saying at all."
He said, "Well, I personally don't go to church—It's not my thing—and I'm not religious. When I talk to my Soldier, who is Wiccan, I have a hard explaining to him what the Army means by 'Spiritual fitness, so I ignore it...'"
"Exactly!" I said, a bit animated. He smiled at my excitement. I continued, "Exactly, that's my point. So, let’s break it down this way: you and I are here having a conversation. You respect me—at least I hope you do—either because I am your commander, or, let's say, it's because I took the time to come out here and have this conversation with you. And let's also say—for sake of argument, because I actually can't stand you (at that, he smiled and said, "Whatever Sir.”)—“but let's just say I have a good deal of respect for you, because I see something in you that is different, something that has value—which is the truth, by the way. So this mutual respect we have for one another creates a third element to our relationship, an esprit-de-corps that becomes an independent entity separate from you and I, but connected to us at the same time. It is, in fact, bigger than us both because we are in service to its existence. It takes us both to create it, so the spirit is bigger than we are each alone. But it cannot exist if we exist each alone. That is the spirit the Army talks about. It’s the common bond between Soldiers, the third entity that springs out from the camaraderie and respect we have for one another and for the Army organization itself."
He seemed intrigued by all of this, so I continued, "That's why when you hear a Soldier say that he or she is getting out because 'the Army doesn't care' about him or her, what the Soldier really means is, 'my team leader...,' or 'my squad leader...,' or 'my platoon sergeant or platoon leader doesn't care about me.' Sometimes I want to say, 'you're right Soldier! That Army you talk about, well, it's an inanimate, incompassionate organization comprised of rules and regulations, of norms, values, and ideals. The Army doesn't care about you because it isn't capable of caring, but your team leader, your squad leader, your platoon sergeant and leaders should care about you."
He smiled and said, "That’s what I always try to tell Soldiers also!"
"So you get it then," I said. "in the case of the Soldier who blames 'the Army' for 'not caring', the spirit of his or her unit, that larger entity he or she senses as 'not caring', the weakened esprit-de-corps of the Army, absorbs the blame for what is really a neglected spiritual relationship between a leader and his or her Soldier."
With that, I concluded, "Spiritual fitness begins with understanding we are in service to something bigger than ourselves. It is not subjecting your happiness or your wellbeing entirely to another thing, but rather one must understand there are bigger things in life. The purpose and sense of serving something bigger than you and I is what the Army would like to cultivate by strengthening spiritual fitness. This is how one becomes a servant-leader, which, in turn, is the basis for unlocking natural leadership."
Aristotle introduced in his Nicomachean Ethics—and I am paraphrasing—that the best activities tend to be the most useless because they are merely a means to serve a greater ends. In other words, one who works to make money does so not because working, unto itself, is a worthy activity, but rather because earning money is important—not true in all cases, I admit, but sensible enough to serve as a basis. Yet, earning money, in and of itself, does not inherently possess its own value, but is rather used to obtain further goods or services, which in turn serves yet other ends. This ‘ends’ to serve as a ‘means’ relationship infinitely regresses until nothing has value, precisely because all things possess tangible value. In my example, the activity of working, sensible in function and necessary to wellbeing though it is, ultimately subordinates to a greater 'ends,' and therefore is inherently of lesser value than the 'ends' it serves.
There are certain 'ends' that serve no other 'means' than to fulfill its own good. The function of building a virtuous character, for instance, useless though it may seem in the tangible sense amidst a culture that places so a high a value on "better activities" (like earning money), is, in actuality, the most important activity we could endeavor to perfect.
One example of this comes from an encounter I had this summer with one of my Soldiers. I said, "You know, one of the least understood, and therefore the most neglected dimension of comprehensive Soldier fitness, is the spiritual dimension."
The battlefield promoted and newly minted Staff Sergeant, a year my junior, sat on a wooden bench beside me on a patio deck that he helped build early in the deployment.
"And when I say spiritual," I continued, careful not to tread into sensitive areas, "I do not mean 'religious'. I think that's the mistake Soldiers make when they hear that the Army wants Soldiers to be spiritually fit.' It sounds like the Army saying 'we want our Soldiers to be Christian,' or ''we want our Soldiers to be religious', or '... to go to church,' and that's not what the Army leadership is saying at all."
He said, "Well, I personally don't go to church—It's not my thing—and I'm not religious. When I talk to my Soldier, who is Wiccan, I have a hard explaining to him what the Army means by 'Spiritual fitness, so I ignore it...'"
"Exactly!" I said, a bit animated. He smiled at my excitement. I continued, "Exactly, that's my point. So, let’s break it down this way: you and I are here having a conversation. You respect me—at least I hope you do—either because I am your commander, or, let's say, it's because I took the time to come out here and have this conversation with you. And let's also say—for sake of argument, because I actually can't stand you (at that, he smiled and said, "Whatever Sir.”)—“but let's just say I have a good deal of respect for you, because I see something in you that is different, something that has value—which is the truth, by the way. So this mutual respect we have for one another creates a third element to our relationship, an esprit-de-corps that becomes an independent entity separate from you and I, but connected to us at the same time. It is, in fact, bigger than us both because we are in service to its existence. It takes us both to create it, so the spirit is bigger than we are each alone. But it cannot exist if we exist each alone. That is the spirit the Army talks about. It’s the common bond between Soldiers, the third entity that springs out from the camaraderie and respect we have for one another and for the Army organization itself."
He seemed intrigued by all of this, so I continued, "That's why when you hear a Soldier say that he or she is getting out because 'the Army doesn't care' about him or her, what the Soldier really means is, 'my team leader...,' or 'my squad leader...,' or 'my platoon sergeant or platoon leader doesn't care about me.' Sometimes I want to say, 'you're right Soldier! That Army you talk about, well, it's an inanimate, incompassionate organization comprised of rules and regulations, of norms, values, and ideals. The Army doesn't care about you because it isn't capable of caring, but your team leader, your squad leader, your platoon sergeant and leaders should care about you."
He smiled and said, "That’s what I always try to tell Soldiers also!"
"So you get it then," I said. "in the case of the Soldier who blames 'the Army' for 'not caring', the spirit of his or her unit, that larger entity he or she senses as 'not caring', the weakened esprit-de-corps of the Army, absorbs the blame for what is really a neglected spiritual relationship between a leader and his or her Soldier."
With that, I concluded, "Spiritual fitness begins with understanding we are in service to something bigger than ourselves. It is not subjecting your happiness or your wellbeing entirely to another thing, but rather one must understand there are bigger things in life. The purpose and sense of serving something bigger than you and I is what the Army would like to cultivate by strengthening spiritual fitness. This is how one becomes a servant-leader, which, in turn, is the basis for unlocking natural leadership."
