When I was a graduate student, I resolved my lodging arrangements by being a houseparent in an arts academy located on the university campus. The academy took talented high school students on scholarship and gave them an opportunity to develop their performing art. Principally, it was a dance school, but there was also a small group of music students.
Apparently art isn’t the only thing that can occupy a teenage art student’s mind. One of them had a habit of absconding of an evening to join in the partying in the many frat houses on nearby blocks.
From the institutional point of view – in terms of loco parentis in general and her safety in particular – this was a matter of considerable anxiety and feverish action. The dispute between the young woman and her teacher were more specific. While the student believed that there was more to life than music, her teacher believed that talent was far too precious, and sacrifices had to be made – by the student of course.
I have sometimes heard people argue that the jewel of a great cultural artefact was worthy of the sacrifice of many lives. It is certainly unfortunate if the artist happened to be an evil and despicable man (usually male). He ruined the lives of his children, destroyed his wife, let down his friends and supported despicable causes. Still, look at his art. Isn’t that more than worth it? Personally, I don’t think that great art or discovery or invention ever justifies evil. I don’t agree with the idea that creative individuals should be excused on the grounds that they are creative, or held to different standards. Evil people exist. Enormously creative people exist. We should not be torn when the two coincide, neither diminishing our praise for the creative work, nor our condemnation of the evil. Nor should we allow evil in order that sublime works of art be created.
My concern here though is the way in which to be born with a talent is so often to be born with a destiny – sometimes to have less choice in life than those less favoured by nature. The talent is often a potential social good – so many other people and powers want to see the talent realized, to enjoy its fruits. This is, however, where we are immediately likely to cross the line of respect for the intrinsic value of a person, and instead begin to make use of their lives for our pleasure or to satisfy other ambitions that we may have for our society or culture.
I am not, of course, saying that people shouldn’t follow their talents. There are excellent reasons favouring the prospect of doing precisely that. We often enjoy doing things that we are good at. Indeed, John Rawls, in his A Theory of Justice, proposed his “Aristotelian Principle” as a primary source of human motivation:
. . . other things equal, human beings enjoy the exercise of their realized capacities (their innate and trained abilities), and this enjoyment increases the more the capacity is realized, or the greater its complexity. P426
If we have a talent for something, and are wishing to develop a plan of life that will be fulfilling and satisfying, then this is a good place to look.
In addition to this, Rawls offers a “companion effect” to the Aristotelian Principle.
As we witness the exercise of well-trained abilities by others, these displays are enjoyed by us and arouse a desire that we should be able to do the same things ourselves. We want to be like those persons who can exercise the abilities that we find latent in our nature. P428
This is important to our self-esteem, or sense of worth – crucial to our ability to carry out our plans of life. One of the requirements of this is that we need to (find)
. . . our person and deeds appreciated and confirmed by others who are likewise esteemed and their association enjoyed. P440
Thus in addition to enjoying what we do well, we are likely to get lots of approval from others for doing it, to the extent that it is something that is culturally appreciated. Lots of approval from others who we also appreciate can help to make our plan of life seem worthwhile to us. Self-esteem is more readily available, and our path through life may be the smoother for it.
Our talents, too, may bring material benefits. While many possible talents, including ones that others appreciate, may not lend themselves well to careers and financial reward, it is probably true, nevertheless, that we are going to do better at careers, and earn more from them, if they draw on such talents as we do possess.
Yet the downside of these two things – social approval and conventional material success – is that they may be pressed on us with such vigour that we cleave to our talents when we might have had a much more fulfilling life pursuing something for which we have no special talent at all. We might, for instance, be very talented at sport, but consider some social cause to be much more important. We might trade a brilliant career in the science lab for an average living as an orchardist.
The problem arises when the social value of the talent – the positive expectations that surround it – threatens to overwhelm the ability to appraise the options – when we become hostage to our talents, enslaved by them, blind to other possibilities of life.
I was spurred to write this piece by a recent television news item. One of New Zealand’s top sportsmen broke into his busy schedule of international events to return home to attend the birth of his son. His wife, too, was a New Zealand international sporting star. Television newscasters spent several minutes discussing the hopeful possibilities of such breeding of talent, and speculated on what wonders we might see when the son came to maturity as a sportsman. To the extent that television presenters purport to represent “us”, it appears that the whole nation has an interest in this new baby becoming a sporting star. It only needs to appear that way. He will no doubt face this expectation wherever he goes as he grows up. We might predict that the expectations will tend to overwhelm other options. He may even pay a considerable price if the biology doesn’t pull through.
In the lovely Australian movie The man who sued God (because the insurance company determined that the lightning strike that destroyed his fishing boat was “an act of God”) the central character (played by Billy Connolly) is asked why he gave up the law.
“Because I was good at it. My father was a lawyer, his father was a lawyer and I was expected to become a lawyer. It’s like being born a sheep . . . or a moth. It’s not much of a life, you know, when you can’t call your soul your own.”
“Were you a good fisherman?”
“I was a much better lawyer, but a happier fisherman.”
Because of the companion effect of the Aristotelian Principle our communities will always contain hopes that talents for greatly admired performances will be realized in the lives of those who possess them. Such expectations are inevitable in a world where we want people to be passionate about their undertakings, and we value gathering together around shared interests. The educational challenge, however, is to mitigate the indoctrinatory possibilities of this. Even the possibility of finding a passion (like fishing) that is greater than anything that can utilize our talents and that might run counter to the expectations of others can take great courage and strength. To pursuit it in the teeth of the wind, even more. That courage, that strength need to be developed. They are a part of unconditional self-respect.
Rawls, John. A Theory of Justice. Cambridge, Mass: Belknap Press, 1971.
There are good grounds for capitalizing on our talents in trying to develop the best way of life for ourselves, but there are dangers too, particularly when there is social pressure pushing us to realize those talents. It isn't always ineviitable that our talents will show us the best way to personal fulfillment
I was spurred to write this piece by a recent television news item. One of New Zealand’s top sportsmen broke into his busy schedule of international events to return home to attend the birth of his son. His wife, too, was a New Zealand international sporting star. Television newscasters spent several minutes discussing the hopeful possibilities of such breeding of talent, and speculated on what wonders we might see when the son came to maturity as a sportsman. To the extent that television presenters purport to represent “us”, it appears that the whole nation has an interest in this new baby becoming a sporting star. It only needs to appear that way. He will no doubt face this expectation wherever he goes as he grows up. We might predict that the expectations will tend to overwhelm other options. He may even pay a considerable price if the biology doesn’t pull through.
