The Trembling Voice of Humility
Speak your mind…and do your homework.
Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind — even if your voice shakes.
Virtue Ethics was one of my favorite classes as an undergrad. Led by a charismatic professor with a gift for bringing ancient minds to life, we pored over the writings of Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, and Aquinas. He introduced us to the Aristotelian ‘Doctrine of the Mean’ that locates correct action in the middle ground between deficiency and excess, eg, the virtue of courage is intermediate between acting cowardly or too rash. With the hubris of youth, we debated the definitions of moral excellence and the requirements for eudaimonia. From the Greek: eu = good + daimon = spirit, soul, self — eudaimonia is sometimes translated as ‘happiness’, though others agree it is better understood as ‘human flourishing’.
With the experience of age, I appreciate that the boundaries of ‘good’ are more blurred than not, but I still enjoy the debate. Several years ago, I stumbled on Greg Marcus’ book about Mussar, an approach to ethics through the rich spiritual lens of Judaism. Formatted like an accessible workbook¹ each chapter introduces a different virtue, relates it to historical and modern stories, and then recommends exercises, daily practices, and even a mantra for when you are challenged by it in everyday life. Similar to Aristotle’s mean, Marcus suggests that the proper balance for each trait sits somewhere along a spectrum that is specific to the individual and determined by awareness and self-reflection. The book begins with humility, which in Mussar is defined as knowing your proper place in the world.
The mantra for humility is: “Occupy a rightful space, neither too much nor too little.”
— Greg Marcus, The Spiritual Practice of Good Actions
At one end of the spectrum, lack of humility is what we commonly understand: arrogance and an inflated sense of self-importance. At the other end, someone with too much humility is unobtrusive and unduly submissive. Marcus cautions that we have to let go of the western way of thinking about humility, conflating it with humble — being modest and non-boastful — qualities that we assume are good in any amount. Instead, having too much humility puts us at risk of selling ourselves short or shrinking too small. The overarching belief is that we all have worthy things to offer, and if our humility is in excess, we shortchange one another by not putting ourselves out there. Humility is as much out of balance in someone who is too self-effacing as one who is overly self-promoting.
Examples to ask ourselves: at a gathering or in a group — do I take a seat in the center or position myself at the perimeter? Do I speak freely or stay silent, even when I know I have something of value to say? If I do share, does my voice thunder with prescriptive authority, drowning out others, or does it convey openness and curiosity, inviting everyone into the conversation?
When I first read this interpretation of humility, I immediately recalled sitting in work meetings and conferences, heart-pounding, rehearsing in my mind the comments I wanted to make, only to end up being too fearful to contribute. Immersed in a male-dominated profession (world), I have at times been intimidated by the bluster and bravado of my colleagues, and I’m so put off by this behavior that I often compensate too far in the opposite direction. Although I’ve come to recognize the swagger as a cover for insecurity, it was a revelation to consider that my silence, stemming from a shortfall of self-confidence, also reflects an imbalance in humility. Unfortunately, this is a common phenomenon for women, our ‘loss of voice’ begins in adolescence when we re-shape ourselves to conform with the expected norms of femininity, trying to fit in to a culture that teaches young girls it’s better to be agreeable than authentic.
From the perspective of Mussar, humility is a continuation of the theme about occupying space — identifying how much we need and staking a claim to that which is uniquely and rightfully ours. It’s a work in progress, but I’m learning to assert myself and, as Maggie Kunz² implores, to speak my mind, even if my voice shakes. Virtue demands it.
¹ Okay, yes, I admit, it’s a self-help book. Proceed with the obligatory eye-roll if you must, but it has, in fact, been helpful.
² Full quote from Maggie Kunz: “Leave safety behind. Put your body on the line. Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind — even if your voice shakes. When you least expect it, someone may actually listen to what you have to say. Well-aimed slingshots can topple giants. And do your homework.” Indeed — when you least expect it, someone may actually listen to what you have to say. Thank you, Maggie.
