I want to talk about honor.
It’s a common word, right? We don’t need to consult the dictionary; we all know what it means. It means a good name, a sound reputation. Public esteem. Personal worth that garners recognition and fame. It’s evidence of distinction — an exalted title, a badge of merit, a symbol of academic superiority or military achievement — or a ceremonial rite, a show of deserved respect.
Historically, “honor” has been defined differently for women (chastity, purity) than for men (privilege, rank). But the connotation that inexplicably and regrettably has become truly archaic is, to my mind, the essential meaning of the word from which these myriad permutations have arisen. “Honor” refers to a person’s moral center and sense of ethical conduct. It means integrity.
Last week, when Alaska Senator (exalted title) Ted Stevens made his final appearance on the Senate floor before returning home, his colleagues suspended all legislative business to laud his many years of political service (a show of deserved respect).
The thing is, Stevens was leaving the Senate a convicted felon and returning to Alaska to face the legal consequences of his seven felonious acts. In clear condemnation of his illegal actions, his constituents had just stripped him of his exalted title. And surely, a record of service tainted by prolonged and repeated use of rank and privilege for personal gain deserves no show of respect.
To add injury to insult, the suspension of governmental business-as-usual came at a time when business is pressing. The financial stability and economic survival of our nation is the matter at hand — and was on the day that our highest, most powerful legislative body halted normal proceedings to fondly recall the decades Stevens had flaunted the laws of the land while holding public office, to celebrate the many years they’d countenanced a covert criminal in their midst, and to mourn the felon’s departure. They set their sworn duties to and the desperate needs of their country aside to honor a dishonorable man.
Did they praise and applaud Stevens because they’re as guilty as he is? Were they afraid to cast him out with boos and jeers, lest their own crimes someday be revealed and their own dismissals from the hallowed halls of government prove equally embarrassing? Was the whole charade a pathetic attempt to ensure they’d receive a similarly pretentious display of unwarranted pomp and oratory on their way out the door, rather than ninety-nine fully warranted kicks in the ass?
Or does their behavior represent more than a lack of individual moral fiber? “Honor sinks where commerce long prevails,” Oliver Goldsmith wrote in “The Traveller” (1764). Are Stevens’ reprehensible morals widely shared among his congressional colleagues because the system is, in itself, antithetical to ethical conduct? And has the system been in place so long that even the idea of honor is passé? How else to explain that the senators made no effort to even appear outraged or offended that one of their own had strayed from the straight and narrow?
Yes, it’s true, the American people are little surprised when our elected representatives behave in immoral, unethical or criminal ways — but we’re still dismayed by it! We still expect those who’ve won our votes to pretend to value honesty, to respect the law, and to disapprove of bribery, favoritism, larceny, treason….
Would our leaders cared to heed Socrates’ advice: “The greatest way to live with honor in this world is to be what we pretend to be.”
(this post’s title is a definition of “honor” from Sir William D’Avenant — playwright, poet, masquer, theatre director and theatre manager — born 1606, died 1668.)