In collaboration with William Bartemes

In this day and age, it can be unwise to speak too highly of one’s heroes. It seems like the moment you mention your respect for Gandhi, you’re informed that he suggested surrendering to Hitler or that he was racist. Suddenly, you’re on the defensive. A choice has been made clear: Defend your hero’s actions or kill them to maintain your morality. It’s a bleak concept. Frequently, even the most righteous of people seem capable of the most horrible things. Things you can’t condone. How can you keep this hero and save face. Your attacker is pleased. They’ve opened your eyes and shaken your complacency, kept you in “the real world” where there are no heroes, only evil people who play at being good.

I’ve lost heroes before. One of my old favorites was Thomas Jefferson. Here, I thought, here is a man of character. Daring, adventurous, a lover of nature, cultured, a statesman and a scientist. Who better to guide my own development? Who better to strive to be? Well, I’ve certainly changed my opinion on that now, but it was never due to anything said to me. People actually rarely challenge me, but on Thomas Jefferson, some people ventured the obvious question: “The slave-owner?” But I was prepared for that. I had read up on this and knew how to respond. Yes, I explained, but he realized the tension in the idea of slavery and liberty and struggled with it all his life. Well, that answer was as weak as the tea in the Boston Harbor and I realized it eventually. When it happened, I disavowed any admiration for the man. He became the sickest of villains, the most immoral rogue and the most treacherous mountebank, as well as several other archaic terms for scoundrel.

But was it right to do so? Those admirable qualities were still there, albeit tarnished by my distaste for his personal life. What had I admired? That bold declaration, which would have been his death warrant had the revolution failed? The president who upon acquiring vast territory thought “This would be a great time for a science expedition!” and sent Lewis and Clark across the country to pick flowers? The nerd who missed Adams inauguration to study bones in France? Yes, there were problems with the man, great problems. There were things he did that could be termed unforgivable and rightly so. His treatment of Sally Hemmings was far crueler and more tyrannical than any punishment placed upon America by a king. Still, those virtues survive.

I think that history may be instructive in this matter. Plutarch was an ancient Greek biographer whose most famous work was titled "Parallel Lives." In it, he detailed the lives of great people, the parallels being between Romans and Greeks, but also he detailed the good and bad qualities of these people. Some are courageous, some are cowardly. Some just, others crooked. Often, they’re a mixture of the two. But Plutarch believed in heroes. He thought they were the key to human morality. People didn’t need complicated moral codes or philosophical exercises, like Aristotle had proposed. People just needed good examples. So why would he detail their vices? Why show the dark side of the very idols he created?

I don’t really have the answer, the motives of Plutarch were only known to him and he has yet to return my emails, but I have a theory, which, as we all know, are infallible. To my mind, they can be encapsulated in a series of comparisons that others have attributed to him but I’ve yet to actually find despite numerous Google searches (and really, how much more academic can I get?) that Caesar, famous Roman leader, modeled himself on Alexander the Great, famous Greek leader (Macedonian, I hear one nerd cry, to which I respond, Shut up. I’m telling the story), who modeled himself on Achilles, famous regretful sandal-wearer. None of these people were perfect. They were conquerors and pillagers. They slaughtered and plundered. But, each inspired the other in turn, to fight for glory, to push for the furthest reaches one could expand to. But Caesar, while not perfect by any stretch, was different from Achilles. At the climax of the Iliad, Achilles curses Hector for killing Achilles’ friend and rejects Hector’s plea that Achilles at least treats his body with honor when he dies. By contrast, Caesar was known for his mercy and generous spirit. Even pardoning Brutus who took up arms against him and would later be one of the assassins who ended the dictator’s reign.

These men demonstrate a deeper understanding of the hero than that which seems to arise among people these days. The hero is not a longed for resurrection. None of these men wanted their heroes to return so they could turn over control to them and allow them to continue their work. They drew strength from their heroes, observed their virtues, their dedication and their indomitable spirit. They sought to incorporate these virtues into their own lives, to improve themselves.

That is the flaw of the hero attacker, what they are blind to. They see a person professing to have a hero as seeking to recreate that hero. To them, that person is stating that they believe it best to bring the hero into the position of god-king of the world and allow them to resolve all disputes. If that were the case, then, yes, it would be justified to note their failings that render them flawed, mortal and so despicably human. But that is not what a hero is.

A hero is not a template, but an exemplar of a virtue. That virtue is specific.t is not a revelation of the true character of either the hero or the admirer. It is just a small way in which a person tries to better themselves, to hold themselves to a higher ideal. It betrays the foolishness of the attacker when you consider how self-defeating the idea of ending a hero by revealing a flaw to a person actually is. How could that person have ever sought to embody that flaw while being unaware of it? And if they are aware of it, what’s the use in telling them it?

I dislike how quick we are to tear down heroes. To act as if a hero must be graded on who they are at their worst, at their most despicable. Few humans can survive a close inspection of their darkest sides, and by striking them down, a beacon of inspiration is snuffed out in the hearts of our fellows. Another guide on this thorny and difficult path has been cast aside. So in the future, instead of seeking to disqualify and diminish the favorites of others, instead of, “So you like eugenics?” I propose a different question: What do you admire about them?

Seek out what the heroes of your compatriots embody to them and you’ll gain a greater perspective on the people you surround yourself with, what they love, what they fear, what they seek to improve, what they wish to have. Often, you’ll gain a greater appreciation for the experiences of others that caused a particular figure to speak to them. Even if that figure is someone you dislike from your own vantage. And just maybe, you’ll come out with a few new heroes of your own.