Ryan Holiday could've been a preacher. His prose, though not technically "great," has that infectious quality of good, simple, and powerful rhetoric that one would expect from an unassuming, but earnest evangelist. His is the gospel of Stoicism, his subject matter the Justice the world seems to talk much about but evidently seems to lack, to its shame and immense disadvantage. Holiday's gift is finding the force of persuasion in the lives of so many heroes and paragons of virtue. He is able to take people you might not agree with in their philosophies and life styles, and reveal to you, in spite of that, a heroism that sings to the melancholic longing in each of us for a world suffused with light and meaning and purpose. He even makes you look at yourself and ask tough questions, confronted with the reality that the circle of your life may be far, far too narrow, your heart far, far too cold, your character still too small to see the needs and hurts of the men and women right next to you. He makes you hope that you, too, can be better, more just, more kind, more conscientious, more giving and forgiving.
I am not a Stoic, but a Catholic priest. I very much appreciate Ryan Holiday's stoic virtue series, as he tries to take the great tradition of Western (and Christian!) Thought in regard to the Cardinal Virtues and present them for modern audiences. His aspirational writing style, as I've said, is very effective and affective. Yet, for all his strengths, I have to admit that - maybe perhaps precisely because he is writing for a modern audience - his words tickle the ears a little too much.
The problem with justice today isn't that we don't talk about it enough (just turn on the news and go on social media!). It isn't that we don't have enough people dedicating their lives to it's pursuit (I contend we are among the most active in terms of social justice in all of human history). It's that we don't have a right idea of what it is. He counsels us to "choose your north star," and in that chapter, makes a gesture in the direction of certainly what it is not, and certainly what it might be. But no where does he give us the definition of justice that would have informed the very stoics he admires, that is, that justice is that firm disposition in us to give to each one his or her due. This is important, because this question of what is due is critical to determining what our north star should be.
In the afterword of his book he mentions the story of Charles de Gaulle and Anne, his daughter with down syndrome. It's a beautiful story, in which he notes that his relationship with his daughter ended making him a better person, softening him, opening him up. It's a beautiful thing to note. It's also, sadly, profoundly contradictory to his earlier praise of woman's rights in terms of reproductive freedom. This is so tragic, especially when one considers that conservative estimates have up to 67% of children with down syndrome are aborted, with liberal estimates soaring as high as 95%. What of justice for these poor children? Should we all just be left to choose our north stars, fighting tooth and nail for justice, even if it means we grow comfortable with innocent lives lost? I don't think Holiday would agree. And yet, this painful, shocking inconsistency exists in this book...
No, not any cause propounding to be just is just. There are too often today causes with tradeoffs that leave others injured or in gravely disadvantaged positions. In our efforts to heal the wounds of racial injustice, today we actually find discrimination and segregation embraced as solutions! We become divided up and pitted against one another in the interest of "justice." Yascha Mounk, in his book The Identity Trap was right to call this out, affirming that it is only in the universal and neutral principles of classical liberalism that emphasize what we share in common as fellow human being that are actually going to bring any measure of healing and equality to the world. We need to be focusing, in the words of Holiday, on expanding the circle, not shrinking it. I would not be so quick to tout the horn of liberalism, but I would preach that all are created in the image and likeness of God, and so enjoy an equally loved status before him, and therefore ought have an equally valued status before each other.
It is also troubling to see him so dismissive of those he calls "moralists." I think I can guess that he is worried merely about an approach to ethics that is disconnected from real problems and real circumstances. I get that. But to argue that some ends justify the means...? Again, that is not a far step from learning to tolerate unjust injuries in the pursuit of your just cause. We need to philosophize, to ask the question what is the human person ? if our causes are going to really bring about the justice we hope. We need to reflect deeply on the consequences of our actions, to ask others (wisdom! which I look forward to reading about, Mr. Holiday!) what those consequences might be. To make sure that our north star is true and not "chosen," as our choice might be influenced by bias, by ease, by popularity, by pressures of family, friends, or anyone. We should not fear to be angels and not as pragmatic as we might be, if it means not goring others with our angles. Because we owe them that. We owe them what is due them. We owe them food, shelter, clothing, education, adequate healthcare. We owe them a conscience free from pressure to hold and hand on to their children what values they think are right. We owe them life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We owe them equal rights, equal opportunities, respect, love, and mercy. We owe them the opportunity to grow and to think better with time. We owe them every help and opportunity to be moral and upright human beings. We can only get to know any of this through some deep reflecting on the nature of things, and of the human nature we all share in common.
And not just "we," mind you. But each and every. I fear with this kind of pragmatism that justice can get reduced to a kind of statistical aggregation of good in the world. The scary thing about utilitarianism is that it is perfectly unphased by the idea that there will always be a tolerable amount of pain in the world. Some causes reflect this, as I have pointed out. That's against my north star, which says every human being is unique, unrepeatable, of infinite dignity and worth, regardless of age, sex, ethnicity or stage of development. That everyone that comes into being (in the womb or outside of it) is here to know, love, and serve God and each other in this life, that we might all be happy in the next. All else descends from this. Anything that violates this is no justice that I can stomach.
So, in "short," read Holiday. His words are inspiring and even galvanizing to consider the place the virtue of justice (necessary as it is to live together in this world) in your life, whether it is as central as it needs to be. But, be cautious. Read the book, but then think carefully and deeply on this question: what is just? And be as sure as you can be that you have a true answer to that question. Then, begin to live it.