Benjamin Franklin, on How to Be a Good Person

Two weeks ago I was on Google, searching for book recommendations. I wound up on ArtofManliness.com, looking through their list, “100 Must-Read Books: The Essential Man’s Library.” The “Pin it” button at the bottom of the page undermined the manliness a little.

Mostly, they recommended the classics—The Odyssey, Crime and Punishment, For Whom the Bell Tolls—but one title on the list stuck out to me: The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin.

I’d never given Franklin much thought before. I knew about the kite experiment (which, according to the Mythbusters, he only theorized, and never actually did). I knew he was a major figure during the revolution, but I didn’t know exactly what role he played. And I knew about his supposed “debauchery,” which, according to The Autobiography, is way overblown. He rarely drank, and was pretty prudish by 18th century standards. (That quote about beer being proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy? It turns out it was originally about rain.)

So there’s some misinformation circulating. Franklin’s legacy doesn’t do him justice. Somewhere along the line he seems to have gotten a reputation as the pudgy, horny uncle of the American Revolution. But the real facts of his life are way more interesting.

He came to Philadelphia in 1724, aged 18. He made his fortune running a printing shop, and then using the profits to invest in a network of other shops throughout the colonies. He was a businessman.

But what set Franklin apart, and what makes up the most interesting theme in The Autobiography, isn’t his success. It’s his emphasis on, and lifelong obsession with, becoming a good person.

“I wish’d to live without committing any fault at any time…As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other.”

After a few failed attempts, he came up with a system for keeping track of his moral transgressions. Eventually, he hoped, he’d be able to get rid of them entirely.

“I concluded, at length…that the contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired and established, before we can have any dependence on a steady, uniform rectitude of conduct.”

Before going any further, I want to add here that TheArtofManliness.com ran a feature on this exact topic almost exactly 6 years ago. The New Yorker, LifeHack, Parade, and the State Department, have also all weighed in. The point is, I’m unoriginal.

If you still feel like reading, awesome. Add a little rectitude to your conduct, with Benjamin Franklin’s 13 virtues:

1. Temperance: Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.

2. Silence: Speak not but what may benefit you or others. Avoid trifling conversation.

3. Order: Let all of your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.

4. Resolution: Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.

5. Frugality: Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e. waste nothing.

6. Industry: Lose no time; be always employed in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.

7. Sincerity: Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly; and, if you speak, speak accordingly.

8. Justice: Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.

9. Moderation: Avoid extreams (sic); forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.

10. Cleanliness: Tolerate no uncleanliness, in body, cloaths (sic), or habitation.

11. Tranquility: Be not disturbed at trifles, or accidents common or unavoidable.

12. Chastity: Rarely use venery but for health or offspring; never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another’s peace or reputation.

13. Humility: Imitate Jesus and Socrates.

He laid out all the virtues in a grid, and marked the corresponding squares with a red dot for every slip-up. He concentrated on one at a time, and, when he went a whole week without any dots, he moved on to the next one. Here’s one of his actual charts:

If all this smacks of 18th century self-help, it’s because it is. But what separates Franklin’s method from a lot of today’s self-help is that it doesn’t focus on personal gain. It’s about making yourself better, so that you can have a more positive impact on the people around you.

I’ve been following the plan for two weeks now, and my charts are full of marks. I know I’ll never be morally perfect (Franklin himself was never able to get past “Order,”) but, I’ve found, even just thinking about it helps me be a little more self-aware.

If you’ve got a free weekend, Franklin’s Autobiography is definitely worth checking out. It’s only about 130 pages.

His insistence on virtue and morality is a little stuffy, and at times it can seem irrelevant to our lives today. But that might be more of a criticism of us, than it is of the virtues.

Read The Autobiography for free, here, on The Gutenberg Project.