Today, one guiding principle trumps all the others: the avoidance of guilt.
We constantly see it in society. The debate over continuing the war in Iraq is an easy example: One side wants to end their feeling of guilt over leaving soldiers in harm's way for years, the other is unwilling to accept the guilt inherent in invading a nation and then leaving it in havoc.
The avoidance of guilt framed Sens. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton's votes on war funding a few months ago; by voting against funding only after they were certain the bill would pass, they simultaneously avoided supporting the war and the guilt associated with sending troops overseas without proper equipment funding.
But let me turn away from politics and to the more personal. The desire to fulfill our obligation to society-and our fear of failure-drives our action in many spheres.
For instance, in preparing for an exam I rarely study to the point where I know everything perfectly. Experience has taught me that studying that much won't help my performance.
Instead, I study just enough so that I no longer feel guilty about doing other things; I study until I reach the point where I have fulfilled my obligation to my class, my family and myself.
How I party and date, my conduct in friendships and extracurricular activities and my behavior in most areas are fundamentally motivated by the avoidance of guilt. Things like sitting in front of the television for hours without doing anything or losing touch with old friends are unacceptable to my conscience.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau believed in the noble savage, that man in his state of nature has inherent nobility and that the forces of civilization distort that original ideal. Modern observers like Allan Bloom look at young students like most of us, unschooled in the cultural developments and philosophical principles of Western thought, and see a reincarnation of the noble savages Rousseau envisioned.
A generation or two ago everyone had some strong moral underpinning rooted in tradition. Some people gained a sense of morality from learned philosophers, but many more gained morals from their religions, their holy books, their Bibles. I, and I think the majority of my fellow students, have never meticulously learned or explicitly followed the teaching of our religions.
Instead, our actions are guided by one fundamental principle: allegiance to the tribe, a refusal to disappoint the people who have put their trust, energy and hope in our hands. The feeling of guilt associated with letting down our community is all we have to guide our behavior.
It is shocking how powerful this impulse can be. It has led us to Duke, keeps us responsible from Sunday morning to Thursday afternoon and pushes us towards the adult world of full employment.
This sense of obligation compels us to obey the law, not solely out of the fear of legal repercussions, but out of the guilt we associate with disappointing and failing our parents.
It sends some of us to the impoverished developing world in hopes of silencing our latent guilt at how damn good we've had it.
The desire to avoid guilt is so potent that most of us have completely internalized it. The goals of society have become our own. Failing society has begun to feel like failing ourselves.
And yet, guilt avoidance only drives us to complete goals society has already lain out for us. It restricts the higher, individual callings society does not always recognize.
The lack of other metrics to guide our action inhibits us from achieving the kind of success only individuals, not tribes, can imagine. It explains the primacy of science, law and business over the humanities in our society today; we pursue the goals that every parent hopes for their child.
Saul Bellow said, "The humanities would be called upon to choose a wallpaper for the crypt, as the end drew near." In today's society, however, they might be called on to do nothing more. Guilt avoidance cannot inspire creativity and original greatness; it can only inspire success within the framework of society.
In other words, I'm feeling really, really guilty about basing all of my actions on avoiding guilt.
Jordan Everson is a Trinity senior. His column runs every Wednesday.
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