Courage (Φιλικοτητα)

Aristotle on the First of 11 Moral Virtues

The topic of courage as a noble virtue is prevalent throughout Aristotle’s work Nicomachean Ethics, where he positions it within a larger discussion of fear and confidence. Like all of Aristotle’s virtues, it is suggested that the desired “mean”—in this case on a continuum from cowardice to recklessness—is determined not by a pre-established parameter governing behavior, but rather may be to some degree variable, based on the specifics of the situation at hand.

That said, Aristotle appears to go to some lengths in clarifying that the virtue of courage is not a concept to be applied generally to many scenarios that a virtuous individual would and should fear (e.g., disrepute or punishment for crime—because to lack fear of such outcomes would demonstrate shamelessness). Ultimately, he refers to courage in the face of “the most frightening thing,” a moniker given to death due to its apparent finality. As it relates to the question of courage—or what is considered courageous—the most noble death (and presumably also the most noble courage) is deemed to be death in war.

He also notes that in viewing courage between the extremes of cowardice and recklessness, the extremes are not of equal weight or virtue, suggesting that of the two options, to err on the side of overconfidence is considered vastly preferable to erring on the side of cowardice.

Aristotle goes on to suggest that any number of behaviors or emotions assumed to be “courage” are actually lesser variants than the noble virtue previously described, including five common categories of “seeming” courage: (1) the citizen soldier who, though engaged in battle, may demonstrate apparently courageous behavior that has been affected by rewards for acts of bravery and punishments for demonstrating fear; (2) individuals experienced and/or skilled in an area that might normally cause fear, for whom he notes courageous behavior may accompany this area of experience but not actually pervade the individual in broader scenarios; (3) angry individuals for whom “spirit” has raised their adrenaline and created what might be termed a type of chemically-induced courage that would dissipate as the anger receded; (4) individuals who appear courageous based on past successes, who Aristotle likens to apparent courage in drunkenness–in both cases the behavior results from lack of fear, but as soon as the scenario changes to an uncomfortable level, the individual becomes fearful; and (5) those who are simply not smart or educated enough to know in a given situation that they should be fearful.

All of these reinforce the concept that the virtuous mean is not achieved merely by demonstrating a particular behavior (in this case, fearlessness); rather, courage is demonstrated when the sober and educated individual fully understands the “most frightening thing,” yet still chooses to demonstrate courage, regardless of the outcome.

 Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, Book 3

Translated from the original Greek by Robert C. Bartlett & Susan D. Collins*

“CHAPTER 6. And first let us speak about courage. Now, that it is a mean with respect to fear and confidence has already become apparent. It is clear that we fear frightening things, and these are, to speak unqualifiedly, bad things. Hence people also define fear as the anticipation of a bad thing. We fear, then, all the bad things—for example, disrepute, poverty, sickness, friendlessness, and death—but the courageous person is not held to be concerned with all of these. For some things one even ought to fear, and it is noble to do so and shameful not to—for example, disrepute, since he who fears this is decent and bashful, whereas he who does not is shameless, though he is said by some to be courageous in a metaphorical sense: he bears a certain likeness to the courageous man because the courageous man is in fact a sort of fearless person. One ought not to fear poverty, perhaps, or sickness, or, in general, anything that is not the result of vice or one’s own doing. But he who is fearless concerning these things is not courageous either, though we do say that he too is fearless by dint of a certain similarity [to the truly courageous]. For though some may be cowards in the dangers of war, they are nonetheless liberal and cheerfully confident in the face of a loss of money. And someone who is afraid of wanton violence against his children and wife, or of malicious envy or something of this sort, is not a coward. Nor if a person is confident when he is about to be flogged is he courageous.

With what sort of frightening things, then, is the courageous man concerned? Or is he concerned with those that are such to the greatest degree? For no one more steadfastly endures terrible things. And the most frightening thing is death, for it is a limit [or end], and there seems to be nothing else for the dead, nothing either good or bad. But the courageous man would seem not to be concerned with death in any or every circumstance—for example, death at sea or by way of illnesses. In what circumstances, then? Or is it in the noblest? Such deaths are those that occur in war, for they happen amid the greatest and noblest danger. In agreement with these considerations are also the honors given in cities and by monarchs.

In the authoritative sense, then, a courageous man could be said to be someone who is fearless when it comes to a noble death and to any situation that brings death suddenly to hand. What pertains to war is above all of this character. Yet surely the courageous man is fearless also at sea and in sicknesses, though not in the way that sailors are. For the courageous man despairs of his preservation and is disgusted with this sort of death, whereas the sailors are of good hope, given their experience. But at the same time too, the courageous act like men in circumstances where prowess in battle is possible or dying is noble; but in the sorts of destruction mentioned, by contrast, neither such prowess nor nobility is possible.”

“CHAPTER 7. What is frightening is not the same for all, and we say that there is a certain frightening thing that is too much for a human being to bear. This is frightening to everyone, then, at least to everyone who has sense; whereas the frightening things that are within the scope of what is humanly bearable differ in magnitude, that is, in being greater or lesser, and similarly too do the things that inspire confidence differ.

But the courageous man is as undaunted as a human being can be. He will fear things of this sort, then, but he will endure them in the way that he ought and as reason commands, for the sake of the noble, for this is the end of virtue. It is possible to fear these things more and less [than one ought] and, further, to fear things that are not frightening as if they were. One of the errors that arise is to fear what one ought not, another is to fear in a way one ought not, and yet another is to fear when one ought not or something of this sort. The case is similar also with things that inspire confidence. He, then, who endures and fears what he ought and for the sake of what he ought, and in the way he ought and when, and who is similarly confident as well, is courageous. For the courageous man suffers and acts in accord with what is worthy and as reason would command. Moreover, the end of every activity is that which accords with the characteristic, and to the courageous man, courage is noble. Such too, therefore, is the end, for each thing is defined by its end. For the sake of the noble, therefore, the courageous man endures and does what accords with courage.

As for those who are marked by excess, he who exceeds in fearlessness is nameless (it was previously said by us that many [characteristics] are nameless), but someone would be mad or insensitive to pain if he should fear nothing, neither earthquake nor floods, as people claim about the Celts.

He who exceeds in confidence when it comes to frightening things is reckless, and the reckless person is held to be both a boaster and a pretender to courage; at any rate, as the courageous man actually is with respect to frightening things, so the reckless wishes to appear to be. In the circumstances in which he is able to do so, then, he imitates the courageous man. Hence the majority of them are in fact ‘reckless cowards,’ for although they are reckless where circumstances permit it, they do not endure frightening things. He who exceeds in being fearful is a coward, for he fears what one ought not and in the way one ought not, and all the things of that sort that follow. He is also deficient in feeling confidence, but it is in his exceeding in feeling pain that he is more conspicuous.

The coward, therefore, is someone of faint hope, for he fears everything. The courageous man is the opposite, since to feel confident is to be of good hope. The coward, the reckless, and the courageous are concerned with the same things, then, but they differ in relation to them. For the former two exceed and are deficient respectively, whereas the latter holds to the middle and in the way he ought. The reckless are also impetuous, and though prior to the dangers they are willing, in the midst of them they withdraw, whereas courageous men are keen in the deeds but quiet beforehand.

In accord with what has been said, then, courage is a mean with respect to what inspires confidence and fear in the situations spoken of, and it chooses and endures what it does because it is noble to do so, or because it is shameful not to. But dying in order to flee poverty, erotic love, or something painful is not the mark of a courageous man but rather of a coward. For it is softness to flee suffering, and such a person endures death not because it is noble to do so but in order to avoid a bad thing.”

*Aristotle. Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Translated, with an interpretive essay, notes, and glossary by Robert C. Bartlett and Susan D. Collins. London: University of Chicago Press, Ltd., 2011. (Available at Amazon)

Practical Application

for Ethical Leadership

Of all of the virtues, courage may be the most powerful with regard to determination of the individual integrity required for ethical leadership. As aspiring leaders, then, we would do well to consider Aristotle’s perspective on the noble virtue of courage—both what it is and what it is not.

Lying in between fear and recklessness, with the degree of virtue or nobility dependent of the appropriateness of our “courageous” response to the specific situation we face, it is not difficult to imagine business or other organizational settings in which actual courage is required in order for integrity of any sort to survive, no less flourish—such courage will be needed for authentic successes to be achieved, but also to merely operate ethically in environments that are commonly morally bankrupt.

As you consider your own organizational environments, how pervasive are leadership assumptions that what is ethical cannot exist alongside material reward for excellence and innovation? How many in leadership ranks feel such a discussion would simply be naïve, and as such, unworthy even of discussion? Make no mistake—the decision to pursue and cultivate ethical leadership principles will at some point exact a price—and require courage.

When what you believe and act on flies in the face of such common attitudes, what will it require of you to not only stand up for what you know to be right, but to bring others along with you?

Most of us would also not find it difficult to remember moments in our own experiences in which players (Aristotle’s “agents”) have feigned courage, while having none—or appeared courageous, only to reveal that their lack of fear was based on ignorance, hubris, aggression, or some other deficient factor. For these players, when the stakes were raised, fear indeed emerged, and their apparent courage evaporated.

Yet as we consider the magnitude of the work ahead of us and the courage it will require to become leaders of integrity, we would also do well to remember that in many of the scenarios we face—confrontations for which authentic courage will be required—fear is a ghost.

As discussed in greater detail elsewhere on this site, fear is a ghost in these instances because the “costs” most of us would bear would be those of pride or vanity rather than the sort involving a finite “end” as Aristotle distinguishes for what the most nobly courageous face with honor.

We would also benefit by remembering that for some of us around the globe, the courage required will indeed be of of the Aristotelian variety. In some countries and under some regimes, ideals of ethical leadership are not only non-existent, but anathema to the very success of the corrupt. Depending on the circumstances at hand in these environments, some who strive for ethical leadership will indeed know that their behaviors and actions are threatening to those who realize they are not able to be bought, or co-opted, or silenced.

In some cases, the internal courage required to maintain the course would be the type that Aristotle describes as most noble, but also most likely to result in an “end.” For those of us whose confrontations are less extreme, we must use this luxury we have been granted to ensure we are bold and courageous, appropriate to the moment and the situation, as we strive to lead ethically.

But regardless of the environments in which we operate and work, all of us should know that when we face fear head on, and do so at the right time, in the right context, in the right amount, and with the right motivation, we not only become courageous—we become noble.