I was making the trip to visit some friends in Minneapolis a few weeks ago. It’s a long ride from Madison, about four hours, and so I stopped midway for lunch. As I was pulling off the freeway I found two lunch options: a Subway, and a log-cabin camp-lodge styled place called the Mocha Mouse.

Now, I personally have opinions about fast food; I try to avoid it where I can. I’m quite proudly “that guy who doesn’t like McDonald’s.” I used to be insufferable about it; although I’ve since realized not everyone can avoid fast food as easily as I can. These days I mostly stick to that rule when I’m eating alone.

I’ll admit it, though: that day on the freeway, I was tempted. I was in unfamiliar territory: I knew what I would get from Subway, and the Mocha Mouse was an unknown quantity. But, I realized, I’ve talked an awful lot about eating local, voting with your dollar, and all of that.

What kind of millennial would I be if I passed up the opportunity to stick it to The Man by not eating at his corporate sandwich factory? I ate at the Mocha Mouse. It was delicious.

I rode the moral superiority high from that decision for the entire weekend.

Let me step back for a moment and explain why I wrote a story about the time I saved the world by skipping the Subway. I hope you can believe me when I say it’s not to seem like a better person. I’m acutely aware of how little a real impact my lunch decision actually makes. I believe I made the right decision for myself, the environment, and the economy by eating lunch at the local place, but that impact is miniscule. Realistically, it wouldn’t even offset the damage I did by driving to Minneapolis in a gasoline-powered car.

But here’s the point: I did the right thing by going to the Mocha Mouse. I did it entirely for the selfish reason that I knew it would make me feel like a socially and environmentally-conscious person. But I did the right thing, instead of the wrong thing, and that’s what I think should matter.

A lot of ink has been spilled over “virtue signaling," including by me. I’m trying to give the impression that I’m not here to impress you with my awareness; it’s kind of terrible that I can’t be bothered to do the right thing without making it about myself. But the hope here is that even if I only do the environmentally-conscious thing to feel good about myself, eventually if I behave that way for long enough it becomes a habit and I don’t need the moral-superiority high anymore.

That’s not a new concept; it was first spelled out in those terms by massively influential German philosopher Immanuel Kant. Kant wrote at length about “moral feeling” and that we should carefully examine the reasons behind why we do what we do.

Most importantly, Kant thought that if we do something because we’re inclined to do it (for example, because we enjoy feeling smarmy and holier-than-thou) then that action has “no moral content.” But, Kant continues, we ought to cultivate “moral feeling” in ourselves so that we act out of the “motive of duty."

Translated out of philosopher-speak: we ought to do the right thing for the right reason, but in a pinch, the wrong reason will do.

The long and short of the argument is this: so long as you use that feeling of moral superiority to make doing the right thing a habit, so that you don’t have to think about doing it anymore, then that is A-OK. Indulge your holier-than-thou instinct as much as you like; so long as you eventually do the right thing as a matter of habit, that’s a completely acceptable way to get there.

So go out and recycle. Volunteer. Donate to charity. Eat local. And don’t feel guilty for the endorphins that you’ll get from it. So long as you keep doing it, and make a habit of it, that’s all that should matter.

(And if you’re ever in Black River Falls, Wisconsin, check out the Mocha Mouse; they make killer beer cheese soup.)