In this chapter, we explore the idea of seeing the virtues as “ethics of aspiration” rather than “ethics of obligation.” Developing the virtues is not a burden: we need to reframe our perception if we see it as such. Seeking satisfaction of our own desires goes hand in hand with seeking a virtuous life, not against it.
Self-Control and Aspirations
C. S. Lewis suggests that:
… there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, … We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased (1965, 2).
This passage helped me to develop a creative response to the drunkenness of my fellow university students, and to aspire to find a creative response. I lived in College House, where tradition required twice-weekly binge drinking. There was a relatively small group of Christians, occasionally ribbed for not participating in pub nights. I developed a response to the ribbing that I presented to Jerry, the College drinking champion and university first-team rugby forward, one Sunday at morning tea, admittedly a time when he might not have been at his best. The key to the response was that I could not deny that getting drunk had benefits for those who participated. They had a great time and came home singing—mainly for pleasure—before passing out. There was fellowship, fun, and freedom from their worries. It was, however, temporary, costly in terms of their health as well as their pockets, and the aftermath was often disgusting. St Paul’s appeal “do not be drunk with wine but be filled with the Spirit”1 was dealing with this same fellowship, fun, and freedom—but with additional benefits to health and purse. In the New Testament, the Spirit of God is the bringer of true fellowship, joy, and freedom. Non-believers can take it as a metaphor; the point is that drunkenness is not without its short-term advantages but belongs to the category of behavior that makes “life more bearable by living less.”2 Living more meant learning ballroom dancing to get more out of parties without getting drunk, organizing touch rugby in the early evenings, and coffee and doughnuts at midnight, as well as a little volunteer work and some studying.
In corporate terms, living more means making profits by finding and developing new opportunities to serve society rather than developing schemes to charge more, or to save tax.
Some psychologists call it sublimation and see it as a defense mechanism, turning our socially unacceptable wants and desires into acceptable social behavior. Sigmund Freud is famous for having thought it was all about controlling sex. Others suggest the will to power, and more complex explanations in terms of the need for social acceptance, or the need to develop personal integrity. We can, however, see our education as refining our fundamental psychological drivers and directing them to their real fulfillment. We can recognize this in a number of different areas of our lives:
• We talk of adult tastes and of gourmets in food and drink. We also know that junk food providers pander to our childish tastes by adding sugar and salt to stimulate sales. We can decide the extent to which we cultivate simple, refined, or gross tastes.
• The metaphor of taste also applies to art, literature, and music, where we again can cultivate our ability to appreciate beauty, soul, energy etc.
• We think it better to develop a sense of self-efficacy or mastery: that we have some measure of control of our lives and can independently interact with the people and world around us. We describe those without this attitude as demotivated or even depressed.3
• We spend many years in formal education, and we expect those with an education to think in ways qualitatively different to those who have not had the opportunity. Not only have they developed technical skills, but we expect them to act more prudently and to exercise greater self-control when it comes to avoiding unhealthy habits.
We aspire, therefore, to the virtue of self-control to manage our appetites and lifestyles: eating, sleeping, performing, thinking, and the use of drugs and alcohol. Some of the education is explicit; other elements are tacit in that we copy our families and peers. Education and social norms are important, but we have choice in the extent to which we follow them. Recent developments in brain plasticity—popularly reported by Norman Doidge—have confirmed that our brains change when we learn to think and behave differently, confirming that we are not hard-wired and our behavioral choices do change us.
Another word for self-control is moderation, which suggests that we should not want too much or too little. Neither word, however, actually gets to the idea that our desires can actually change. The gourmet does not turn her nose up at a Big Mac because she is holding back her desire for a sweet burger; her education and virtue is that she genuinely wants something more subtle.
So what are the implications for our vocations in finance? How do we educate our desires, and develop our passions?
Let me start with indignation, because that is where I began—although it needs to be channeled rather than inflamed. As I have said above, my involvement in the retirement industry arose from my sense of outrage at unjust withdrawal benefits, later inflamed by the injustice of the means test and its consequences for lower-income people. These two structures—or more accurately the indifference of those who derive a healthy living from them but had the power to change things—still have the power to get my adrenaline flowing. Even though I can now see that some of my initial resentment was partly seeded by my own interests, indignation at injustice provides a useful motivation if it can be constructively channeled. Strong emotions of these sorts are good indicators but poor companions. In their proper place, they provide a real motivation to seek justice.
In managing strong emotions, we can turn to the psychologists such as Walter Mischel’s work on what he calls self-regulation. In The Marshmallow Test, he tells of following up children (of about 4) who wait 15 minutes for two marshmallows and those who would rather eat the one in front of them immediately. Those more able to control their desires perform better at university, are healthier, earn more, and are less likely to be divorced 30 years later. The differences in approach to decisions can be seen in their brain patterns, and appear to arise not only from genes and upbringing (supportive mothers and reliable fathers), but from training. What is noteworthy about the training is that its success is situation specific. One can be self-controlled in some circumstances and not in others, but can also teach ourselves to be more consistent by reminding ourselves of our aspirations, and preparing ourselves not to fall straight into temptation. In this he uses the distinction between fast and slow thinking that Daniel Kahneman has also been popularizing. Fast thinking can mean falling for temptations, while slow thinking is more considered and takes a longer-term perspective.
Cool self-control is, however, not enough. We can turn to the positive psychologists such as Robert McGrath, who finds that self-control is clustered with positivity, a future orientation, and even spirituality—in his analysis of how people see their own strengths. Self-control allows us to direct our passions and energies into activities with a socially useful purpose, characteristic of a fulfilled vocation.
Integrity
Integrity means we possess wholeness; the different parts of our lives are brought together; we are true to ourselves. We are not two-faced. Without integrity, we set ourselves the wasteful task of rationalizing and justifying inconsistent elements of our lives to ourselves and others.
Integrity obviously has social value, because, without the ability to trust others, we cannot usefully interact with them. Without sufficient tax honesty, governments falter. On a personal level, we usually abhor hypocrites, and constantly rationalize and justify our own actions when we seem to fall short. Although we can have an admiration for the clever, but deceitful, trickster, this can be explained in that the trickster is usually bringing down the greater hypocrite with power. We all lose respect for those who would trick the poor and helpless.
That our desires can be trained unfortunately works both ways. We may start idealistically, but can then be corrupted by our environment. If we really want integrity, we have to commit to it.
Ron Howard and Clint Korver have written a useful book for students that looks at how to make this commitment. They look at three ethical issues: lying, stealing, and doing harm. Lying and stealing are failures of integrity, and all three can be a failure of justice. They point out that these prohibitions are found in the major religions and in almost anyone who writes on ethics. They suggest three phases: awareness, thoughtfulness, and then a determination to do the best thing. An important part of implementing this determination is to develop a personal code of ethics, which they suggest be written out. We can think of people, who have set themselves high standards of integrity. It is said, for instance, of “Honest Abe” Lincoln that he was a “lawyer who was never known to lie.” We all know those who are trustworthy and those who are not.
In their chapters on awareness, they refer to the confronting fact that we humans are often deceitful. It is not just that we tell white lies to protect others’ feelings, but we exaggerate our achievements and importance and are quick to deflect blame by lying. Dan Ariely is a psychologist who has explored this in some detail, showing how much we rationalize—even by changing our values in order to justify our previous behavior.4 Howard and Korver highlight that the ethical prohibition on lying cannot be absolute—illustrating again that detailed rules fail. They retell the story of Kausika, from the Hindu Mahabharat, who “ignorant of the subtleties of morality, fell into a grievous hell” by vowing to tell the truth. He thereby betrays the whereabouts of refugees fleeing from robbers who then kill them. My colleague Jim Franklin reports that English Jesuits had a similar problem when they were being persecuted. The Jesuits concluded that while an outright lie was wrong, lying could be justified after considering “the harm that will follow from truly answering such questions as whether there is a priest hidden in one’s home” (2002, 85). While most of us will never face such questions, we daily face mundane temptations to tell small lies to save face or time—and white lies to keep the peace. Practically speaking, there may well be times to succumb—or least to be creative in our response.
Aspiration needs, however, to lead to preparation. This is where Mary Gentile’s program is of particular help as she identifies ways to “action—that is, developing the ‘scripts’ and implementation plans for responding to the commonly heard ‘reasons and rationalizations’ for questionable practices, and actually practicing the delivery of those scripts” (2010, xiii).
Even if we are able to voice our concerns, we may need to live with the tensions and bide our time before we can see results. The issue of earnings management was discussed in Chapter 7. I faced such a problem when asked for second opinion on the value of an exotic derivative, and I am still not sure whether I made the right decision. It appeared that the company’s board and shareholders were not being informed about the risks involved in the product. I did raise it with a few of the people with more direct responsibility, but saw no progress, nor opportunity to take further action. I was not directly responsible, I had insufficient proof of wrongdoing, and could have betrayed confidentiality if I had made a stand. The problem seemed to have arisen because the CEO had given key performance indicators (KPIs) to the CFO that required her to reduce borrowing costs without consideration of the risks involved. This, in turn, could have reflected a misunderstanding about financial risks and how to measure them. In retrospect, I could have been more active in looking for an opportunity to suggest that the KPIs be addressed, and the costs of borrowing measured using the actuarial analysis of surplus described in Chapter 7. This would have identified the impact of changes to interest rate assumptions that could be clearly understood by the CEO and board.
We do not have to make a stand on every issue though. There is no point getting into a huge fight unless the wrong is critically important. If you have no responsibility and limited knowledge of a matter it may be better to let it rest rather than become a busybody. In any event, we cannot save the world—and there is normally enough hard work to do that can be useful, without taking up hopeless cases. The idea of vocation is important here. It is clear that we cannot get involved in every good cause. We are surrounded by other people, who experience the same world and strive to maintain their own integrity. Although often remotely, we are with them in their efforts as they are with ours. We are called to play our part—with all our might. For others with different parts, we can be encouraging—without trying to play their roles too.
Because the different parts of our lives are continually changing, we need to continue to work on bringing them together to maintain our integrity. I have not found it to get much easier over time, perhaps, because I have changed jobs too frequently. I have, however, become more aware of my own tendency to rationalize and hide inconsistencies—and perhaps to identify it in others. My favorite story is the cab driver trying to persuade me to use him regularly because of this trustworthiness. His brother phoned to ask whether he could pick up one of the brother’s fares. Without shame, he advised his brother to tell the other fare that the brother had a puncture!
Donald Longevoorts writes about the conflicts between the need to sell products and the duty to serve clients’ interests, and the problems of over-servicing. He also warns of the slippery slope, which—contrary to what you might expect—normally starts not with the decision to deceive for gain, but with an error that we do not admit. Vigilance in protecting our integrity requires that we are quick to admit mistakes.
Before leaving the subject of integrity, one can make the point that we may need courage to maintain it. Chesterton makes a useful point, when he says:
The strong cannot be brave. Only the weak can be brave; and yet again, in practice, only those who can be brave can be trusted, in time of doubt, to be strong (1905, 87).
We only really have to call on our courage when we are threatened in some way, and it is important, as Mary Gentile emphasizes, to be prepared. The only time I was ever in a position where our organization was asked for a bribe, I was able to steer off any conflict by calling the request by its name early in the discussions. While doing that required some courage, it was much easier and more effective than it would have been if some of my colleagues had inadvertently committed themselves to the proposed agreement.
Preparation, and the thought that needs to go into it, are perhaps the keys to maintaining integrity, which brings us on to wise thinking.
Wisdom
“Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom”5 was inscribed on my school crest, perhaps because our school founders saw it as the ultimate aim of education. It is the virtue to make sound judgments in the face of uncertainty and conflicting criteria, as is required particularly by experts and those in positions of responsibility.
One of the keys to obtaining wisdom can be found in the same section of Proverbs: “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”6 I appreciate that many people, religious and otherwise, can be repelled by this idea of fear. I use it nevertheless, because, as a metaphor, it suggests a deep respect for truth, or of the reality beyond us. It emphasizes the need to pursue ideas beyond our zones of comfort. In particular, it requires us to become conscious of “cognitive dissonance,” which occurs when our existing theories and hidden assumptions fail to fit the facts. Sometimes this dissonance is marked and pleasing: coming from an all boy family and school, I remember the delight of my first intellectual conversation with a girl and realizing girls are people! Sometimes it is depressing: the results of the 1987 South African election showed, for the first time that the majority of English speaking voters supported apartheid. At the time I read the election result, I had an office with a good view of Table Mountain, and I sat for an hour or more looking at the beauty and feeling devastated—as a stranger in my own land. Some of you may find this book’s criticism of the finance sector similarly difficult. You may want to dismiss it as impractical and disconnected from the real world. You may be right in large measure, but please work at the cognitive dissonance!
For those in the finance sector perhaps the most difficult question is to decide to prefer wisdom to money if we have to choose. Solomon, who is said to have written Proverbs, is famous for having chosen wisdom over wealth, when he was asked by God in a dream what he most desired. Perhaps every person entering the finance industry is faced with the same question: will we be motivated by extrinsic rewards, or search for the rewards intrinsic to doing the job well?
Wisdom is one of the intrinsic rewards. We gain wisdom by delving deep into a subject for the intrinsic rewards. This deep learning is what universities are meant to encourage. One of the main teaching challenges is to get students to be more interested in the subject than in the results of the examinations. Only then will they be on the path to wisdom!
If you look around, you will find many people have made choices to pursue intrinsic rather than extrinsic rewards. I have worked with them especially in school, universities, in government and non-government organizations, and in actuarial professional committees that have always relied on volunteers. John Biggs’s Study Process Questionnaire has an item: “I feel that virtually any topic can be highly interesting once I get into it” (1987, 49). Deep learners strongly agree; probably everyone does when they really try it.
Writers on wisdom emphasize that it moves us from a black-and-white view of the world, but keeps us from falling into the trap of thinking that everything is grey and equally worthless. One way of falling into the opposite error is to become cynical—as the agency theorist enthusiasts of Chapter 6. I suggest to you that out-and-out cynicism comes from the depths of hell (metaphorically if you like). This is because it refuses to recognize that anything can be good, that people can be well intentioned, and that the world may even reward good behavior. As a schoolboy, I was pleased at the comment Cynic! written on an essay. As a first-year student, however, I came across this quotation from the sociologist Peter Berger, who put me right:
It is possible to view social reality with compassion or with cynicism, both attitudes being compatible with clear sightedness (1973, 47).
Being clever, particularly putting others down, is not wise. Cynicism is attractive because it makes us feel superior: but if we face the facts this is unlikely, if not absurd!
In the chapter from which I took the quote, Berger is arguing that the sociologist has to be detached from the glib answers that are given by respectable society. We all find it uncomfortable to free ourselves from prejudice. Berger is not, however, wanting to reject the considered answers of our best intellectual traditions. There is a proper adolescent desire to throw off the restrictions of our parents, and decide on our own views and identities. Graeme McLean makes the case that many adults—artists and academics among them—take this desire for autonomy too far. Wisdom is unlikely to be found in novel values.
It is admittedly not easy to find a foundation for knowledge, let alone wisdom. Philosophers have long struggled with the question of how we can know anything. They ultimately come to a similar answer to the theologians. As philosopher Michael Polanyi puts it, “we must now recognise belief once more as the source of all knowledge” (1958, 266). He is not writing about a particular set of beliefs, but does go on to write that such beliefs need to take place in a “like-minded community.” Observation and reason do not provide us with indisputable truth. To recognize this teaches us humility, but to take it too seriously is foolish. We can legitimately believe that we walk on solid earth, and we can learn facts about the real world around us. Failing to believe in this way runs counter to almost all we do.
Not only do we have to live with facts we cannot prove, we also know that we cannot always know enough to make completely rational decisions. I like Herbert Simon’s idea of bounded rationality that led to the behavioral economics that is popular today. He has observed that people use relatively simple rules of thumb to deal with complex decisions. He also suggested that, because we are not able to calculate and maximize the results of our action, that we are satisficed (a word he coined for this purpose) once our aspirations have been met. As he says at the end of his Nobel Memorial Lecture:
With all these qualifications and reservations, we do understand today many of the mechanisms of human rational choice. We do know how the information processing system called Man, faced with complexity beyond his ken, uses his information processing capacities to seek out alternatives, to calculate consequences, to resolve uncertainties, and thereby—sometimes, not always—to find ways of action that are sufficient unto the day, that satisfice (1979, 513).
This is a rather poor version of wisdom, but it is where we stop if we do not develop a desire for a more thorough understanding of the world. In this respect, we can commend academic work that defines and quantifies different economic relationships. There is, however, much to criticize where it is more interested in models and theory rather than reality. My colleague Rob Thomson (2003) argues that we should be using utility theory for normative purposes—as a basis for making more rational, and prudent, decisions. But as he wrote (when commenting on this section of this book): “Though rationality and prudence are arguably necessary conditions for (good) decisions … I’m not sure that they are sufficient.” Wisdom will go further and consider the decisions in context and their role in achieving social good.
Finding wisdom requires hard work; we have to want it and to place ourselves in a position where we can learn. This often requires experimentation, or finding people who see things differently, so that we can explore the cognitive dissonances!
Virtues in Psychology
If the virtues are inherent in us, but require development, one might expect to find theories about their development. I was introduced to the some of these through James Fowler’s book on stages of the structure of faith, by which he means ways of thinking about the meaning of life, and sources of power to influence it. Table 4.1 is based on this book, augmented by further insights from the other writers to whom he refers.
The table gives a rough indication of how our thinking, moral reasoning, perspectives, and psychology develop over time. As might be expected, developmental stages are relatively easy to see in children—IQ is measured against chronological intellectual age, for instance, and the other childhood stages mentioned have other, empirical, justification. I was astounded at how strongly my youngest son, at age 7, argued that I was telling a lie when I said I could eat a horse. At that age, everything is taken literally!
Table 4.1 Stages of Development
|
Cognitive (Piaget) |
Moral reasoning: (Kohlberg) |
Meaning/Perspective (Fowler, Selman) |
Psychological virtues (Erikson) |
Childhood |
Thinking remains concrete |
Rules are given, self-interested primarily |
Limited to family, school |
Trust, autonomy, initiative, and efficacy |
Teen years |
Operational (abstract) thinking |
Rules of local society |
My in-groups, nation |
Identity/integrity—failure is fanaticism or gang culture |
Early adulthood |
Analytical becoming holistic |
Social contracts, with greater appreciation for differences |
My chosen communities, with perhaps faith and a global view |
Intimacy/love—failure is isolation or promiscuity |
Middle age |
Generativity/care—failure is stagnation or self-absorption |
|||
Old age |
Slower |
Peace—failure is despair or loneliness |
||
For purposes of this book, Erik Erikson’s approach is most relevant as it identifies eight stages of development each culminating in a virtue. This is not the place to discuss the first four stages. The last four are, however, relevant to adult development. In each of the stages, he suggests that we face a psychological task or crisis that is created by the interaction of our physical and mental development and our environment—particularly with our most significant relationships. If we work through the crisis, we develop the appropriate virtue or basic strength. If we fail, which will often be because relationships are toxic, but may be the result of our own mistakes, then we can display one of the failures listed.
The stages (and particularly the ages) cannot be taken as too definitive, as few, if any, people fit perfectly. It is helpful to be told that we may regress in times of stress: our focus narrows and I for one become impulsive and selfish.
The evidence for stages of adult development is not as strong as that for child development, in that many adults fail to proceed to the adult stages as identified by the researchers. It is possible that the theories are wrong, or alternatively to think that some people do fail to reach their full potential and develop the virtues they are meant to have. At least some of the faults that we see around us are due to immaturity—some of which is probably our own.
Identity as Part of Integrity
Our progress through the stages depends a great deal on the challenges life gives us, and how we rise to them. The rising number of years people spend in education, for instance, appears to have extended adolescence. There appear to be more in their early 20s who have not worked through the issues of identity. One of these issues is that of accepting the different elements of our identities. Our group—family, gender, race, nation, and school, provide us with elements of a childish identity. As we grow older, we may define and redefine ourselves in terms of occupation, employer, religion, or political party. This is right; we need to know who we are. It does not, however, justify chauvinism, which is to give our loyalty to those like us, rather than to diverse communities to who we do owe some allegiance. We turn to the question of loyalty in Chapter 14.
Fowler suggested that it is necessary to leave home—at least figuratively—in order to resolve the challenge of identity. Leaving home provides a wider awareness of perspectives other than those of parents and school. As adults, we can no longer rely on other authority, but must make our own choices. In doing so, we become more analytical, which may create impatience with some of the associations of groups with which we previously identified. My experience was of finding a sense of personal continuity and integrity. I remember, soon after my 21st birthday, thinking that I was a person, not merely a series of events tied together by the same skin! I also realized that I no longer had to be embarrassed when introducing myself and saying my name.
James Marcia has suggested that this transition to identity achievement can be seen along two dimensions: exploration and commitment. The general view of those who have followed this line of research has been that exploration should come first, and commitment later. This does seem to be the more common route for today’s students, but—if it leads to what they call a moratorium on commitment to values—it has its risks. If integrity is of absolute value, exploring the concept theoretically can obviously be of value, but to do so practically is not merely risky, but destructive. It would be like saying: why not try cheating at examinations and see if you like the consequences. The idea of virginity provides the physical illustration: once lost never recovered. We can of course recover in large measure from the errors we make—whether as adolescents or adults—but it would be much better to avoid costly mistakes in terms of drug and alcohol abuse, promiscuity, loss of integrity, and a failure to develop the knowledge and skills required for the later phases of life.
The researchers also talk about foreclosure, when young adults make premature commitments, possibly under pressure. Such people are inflexible in their thinking, rigid in their relationships, and develop an authoritarian style later in life. It can be associated with fundamentalist religious beliefs, and with those whose thinking is dominated by their parents, co-religionists, or other in-groups. Commitment to personal integrity and virtue has to be open eyed and unforced if it is to lead to personal growth.
The traditional view of education saw the need to hold strong personal values together with an openness to alternative theories of the world. William Perry described how his Harvard students started from a rigid concept of right and wrong with a reliance on authority. They then moved, through various degrees of uncertainty and doubt, to a personal commitment to truth and meaning. He wrote of the “paradoxical necessity to be both whole hearted and tentative—attitudes that one cannot ‘compromise’ but must hold together with all their tensions” (1981, 96). He describes the anxiety faced by students when the meanings and truths they had previously accepted as certain are shown not only to be uncertain, but often mistaken. This anxiety can be expressed as anger and frustration with the lecturers, which is perhaps one reason why universities are so often places of conflict.
I have used John Bigg’s study process questionnaire to help my students develop a deeper learning style. One of the questions asks whether their studies have changed their view of life. It is noticeable that some of those who are more committed to their religion answer that it has not. This appears to come from a defensive approach to university learning by Christian and Muslim groups. It is a pity because, the theistic view would say that God surely wants us to understand his world as well as possible and wants us to be open to truth wherever it is to be found. It is important to guard one’s integrity and other values against cynicism in all its forms, but this requires searching for deeper understanding, not resistance to any change.
The identity we achieve cannot ultimately be based on what we achieve, because we are otherwise at the mercy of circumstance. In one of my earlier jobs in the 80s, I invested 4 years on redesigning the products our company was selling. Just as we finished making the changes that I felt were necessary, the company was taken over and my innovations were effectively undone. What was the point of my efforts? Not much unless I saw the value in the striving and the making of who I am as a person—rather than what I did. T. S. Eliot has it much more dramatically:
The good man is the builder if he build what is good
…
And if blood of Martyrs is to flow on the steps
We must first build the steps;
And if the Temple is to be cast down
We must first build the Temple (1934, 9, 42).
Our identity is ultimately within us: the continuity of our commitments to family, relationships, work, and virtue. Working these out is self-authorship.
Intimacy and Love
These theories of life stages suggest that we need to develop the virtue of each stage before moving on to the next. Once we are confident in our own identity, we are ready for mature and intimate relationships, especially in marriage. Marriage does not concern us here, but the intimacy includes deeper and more mature relationships with all of those with whom we come into contact—including through our work.
Like many, I developed good friendships with my contemporaries after starting work. We played sport, socialized, and went camping together. This is normal and healthy, but it is capable of manipulation. I have been told of consulting firms that not only demand long hours but also actively encourage younger staff to socialize actively—to develop team coherence and to prevent them from spending too much time with their spouses! Recent graduates, when I see them at professional functions, not only start looking smarter, but also paler as they get much less sun and much longer working hours.
Part of the problem lies with bosses who manipulate their young recruits’ enthusiasm and need for intimacy. It is a good thing to work for a dynamic, excellent organization. It is a better thing to have time for family, leisure, friends, and exercise. This means that calls to make sacrifices for the overall good of the company often need to be resisted; bosses and colleagues will appeal to all one’s guilt and fears. Early morning, late night, and weekend meetings can become routine. Anyone who leaves in daylight can be labeled as uncommitted or disloyal, and somehow socially misshapen. I remember being told that long hours in a stimulating environment would make me, together with the extra money earned, that much more attractive to my wife. The thought has stayed with me, but it stands in stark contrast to everything else I have learnt about marriage.
Excessive executive pay aggravates this manipulation. Those with large profit incentives can take an unbalanced view of their own lives, let alone those of their staff. Current fashion does not even require lip service to the obligations that companies have to be loyal to employees. Managers have no right, therefore, to ask for loyalty beyond that for which they pay. Even if they do pay, it may represent seduction to spend too much of your time on work. You should rebuff bosses that imply that you have moral obligations to put in work beyond your formal contract. Some Australians are proud that Australian building workers first won the right to an 8-hour working day in 1855. After 150 years of productivity improvements, it is a mystery why longer working days are still necessary.
Generativity
Erikson says that the challenge of middle age is to choose generativity over stagnation. His original research seems to have started middle age at age 25; later going as high as 40. The upper end started at 65 but has also increased; people are living and working longer. It may be that Shakespeare’s poem The seven ages of man is right in dividing this stage into two:
Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
The earlier part is likely to be more energetic but less focused. As I understand Erikson’s challenge, it is to ensure that, at the end of our working lives, we have more than forty times one year of experience! He believes that a fruitful life will be concerned with caring for children, and for leaving a legacy. For those of us with children and grandchildren, this is relatively easy to envisage. For those without, we can define legacy as what we leave to future generations. This is the measure of a fruitful vocation, which in turn provides the foundation for what Erikson calls wisdom—but may be more like peace—in the last stage of life.
Making Money
However, I hear some people object, I also want to make money. Is this perverted? Do not take offence if I suggest it may be—if you are in the position that you already have enough. Let us be a little more precise and define enough as having achieved at least the average lifestyle of your nation. Before you close the book, let me give examples that are a little more subtle than the Wolf of Wall Street—a movie too long and distasteful to recommend, but which illustrates perversion well enough! Why would you want more money?
• To be able to compare yourself more favorably with your contemporaries? The research on happiness finds this to be important—but embarrassing to admit to it!
• To afford the good things in life? As the proverb has it, “Better a dry crust eaten in peace than a house filled with feasting—and conflict.”7 Are you fully savoring what you have, and what is available on your existing income? If yes, then more money may well increase your pleasure.
• To be able to do more good? This is possibly a little arrogant. Would you have the capacity to administer the good works you intend? Read Michael Maren, one writer who has looked at the failures of third-world aid, as one example of how difficult it is really to do good for others. Be generous with your plenty, but do not use it as an excuse for greed.
• For financial security? This is a good answer, and worth considering long and hard, because it gives us insight into how we in the financial sector can create security for everyone. People on high incomes, however, often feel a sense of financial insecurity because they are overcommitted. I have done the same myself—at a rather modest level! The solution here is merely to scale back.
I am not suggesting that it is wrong to negotiate a fair salary package, nor your fair share of entrepreneurial profit if you are in that type of job. It is also right to want to maximize entrepreneurial profit. But if you are attempting to create economic rents, or acting opportunistically in overcharging vulnerable customers destroying the environment, or garnering more than your fair share of the salary pie, then please stop. As I suggested in the first chapter, the aim that satisfies is fruitfulness, which is much wider than success, which in turn is wider than money!
Chapter summary: How do we decide what we want out of life? The cardinal virtues are required for this: self-control, integrity, and wisdom. Erikson’s theory of psychological stages of development confirms the importance of these virtues, and suggests that the twenties is the time in our lives to develop the love that enables us to commit to productive personal relationships and to contribute to general human flourishing. While making money is not wrong, the ultimate objective has to be much wider.
1Ephesians 5: 8 (Revised Standard Version).
2I cannot find the source of this quote, but the idea is not mine.
3Some of the benefits and ways of achieving self-efficacy are summarized by Bandura (1993), which is discussed in Chapter 13.
4See his book (2013), and the paper written with Michael Norton (2008).
5Proverbs 4: 7 (King James Version).
6Proverbs 9: 10 (Revised Standard Version).
7Proverbs 17.1 (New Living Translation).