Humility, Bruce Kochis

Humility faces tough challenges in an anti-humility culture.  As Susan Cain has pointed out in her book Quiet, that culture got its foothold in the late nineteenth century as industrialization pushed workers into the anonymous cities, and villagers hitherto known as part of a community had to “sell” themselves to employers, co-workers, prospective mates, and neighbors. The villagers’ knownness became unknown and the culture of “personality” arrived.

The culture of personality has only swelled via a host of practices--college admissions essays, resumes, applications, grant writing, Linkedin, online dating profiles, and a barrage of self-evaluations and performance assessments.  The talk show hosts burnish the egos of celebrities, college athletes now promote their personal “brand,” every child chess player gets a medal or trophy. One ought to cultivate a personality that is unique and recognized as such.

Alan Morinis suggests that “being humble doesn’t mean being a nobody, it just means being no more of a somebody than you ought to be” (47).  But that becomes more and more difficult when the culture is ever pushing us to be a Somebody for fear of being a nobody.  We end up promoting ourselves to stand out, to be noticed, to be recognized.  Our humility recedes.

And the waning of religion in everyday life means that the temptation beckons to think of oneself as a center, or as the center, of the universe and of life.  This began with Humanism of course; for example it was in the Renaissance that artists began signing their work—the individual artist superseded the guild.  At shul we are reminded of role models—Sarah, Moses, Ruth—who see themselves in a much bigger picture of the universe and of life.