Ben and Me_ From Temperance to Humility - Cameron Gunn [69]
Modest Diffidence . . . Whatever That Is
I tried, on the first day of the week, to develop some plan for how I would approach the method of moderate conversation that marks Franklin’s virtue. I didn’t anticipate much success, and I was right. Imagine going through a day trying to be diffident in your positions. Appreciate, if you can, that this requires you to nod, offer some level of empathetic understanding, and not clearly contradict every stupid, inane, ridiculous proposition put to you by . . . well . . . everyone. There are a lot of people whose opinions demand a belligerent, antagonistic, brash response—a sort of rhetorical beat down. Ben’s method does not allow for this.
After only a few hours of trying this never-take-a-position business, I wanted to tell Ben what I thought of his method of speech.
I resolved, however, to put aside my misgivings and give Franklin’s Moderation a try. I will not, I told myself, under any circumstances, express certainty about any position. Indeed, I would not make it apparent to anyone that I had adopted a position at all. Assuming I had . . . adopted a position, that is . . . which I had not. At least not one that I will share with you.
Maybe I had better review Franklin’s Moderation again. He expressed his Moderation as a method of conversation in which he would eschew words such as “certainly” or “without question” or any other expressions of conviction. Rather he would say:
I conceive or apprehend a thing to be so and so; it appears to me, or I should think it so or so, for such and such reasons; or I imagine it to be so; or it is so, if I am not mistaken.
If I am not mistaken, I told myself, this is going to drive me nuts.
And so it did. As I went through the day practicing this, I experienced both guilt at being untruthful and an uncomfortable feeling of kinship with a former superior. The sense of guilt I can handle—I’ve done enough stupid things in my life that guilt is not an unknown emotion. This course by itself had engendered enough failure that I am almost immune to the effects of guilt and self-doubt.
On the other hand, the feeling of some similarity or association to this past “boss” (I use that word loosely, as he was not a direct superior but several levels of bosses above me) had me shuddering like an alcoholic with the DTs.
I value certain qualities in people: honesty, integrity, and selflessness, among others. In those who occupy positions of leadership, I also appreciate three things: (1) a sense of mission; (2) decisiveness; and (3) a Trumanesque acceptance of responsibility. I want a leader who knows where the buck should go; directs the buck with conviction; and, when the buck goes astray, knows precisely where the buck should stop.
The boss I feared that I resembled, as I attempted Moderation, was no buck stopper.
My clearest memories of him are the interminable meetings. Here is how the meetings would go. He’d state the issue at hand, this would take an inordinate amount of time and might or might not actually address the relevant issue, and in doing so he would use a method of discourse similar to Ben’s. He would never take a particular position, but he would adopt an inquiring posture. He might have intended it to be Socratic, but he was no Socrates. Nothing ever developed of his questions. No wisdom was drawn out from his inquiries. I left whatever meetings I attended with him having no idea what had been decided.
I’m not bitter about this time in my life. What concerned me was that as I spoke to people in my best Franklinian manner, I sounded like that guy!
Here’s an example. On Day 1 of Moderation, a police officer asked me for advice on a question of law. This happens all the time. I’m flattered by their trust in me, and I am mindful of my obligation to provide sound advice. Unfortunately, that week, I was also burdened with trying to master Franklin. Thus, while he expected a clear, if not concise, answer, what the officer got was some garbled, nonsensical inquiry about what the officer knew