Pride
by Kenneth Barnes
One evening in a sixth-form general discussion we were considering what conditions were necessary for successful friendship and marriage, what faults would be likely to destroy or limit a loving relationship. We could see that there were obvious faults of a crude sort – intense selfishness, spitefulness or cruelty – that would make any good human relationship difficult to attain. But putting aside unchecked primitive impulses and the degenerate tendencies or perversions sometimes seen in people, what was there that would make it impossible or difficult for two people to go on loving each other? It seemed to me that pride was the most dangerous fault, the greatest obstacle to continued love, understanding and tolerance.
So what I want to do now is enlarge on this, to examine what pride is and why it is so dangerous a fault. Pride has always been regarded by the Christian Church as one of the most deadly sins, in fact the foremost and the worst of them. It is a worse sin than selfishness, avarice and gluttony, worse than brutality and cruelty, worse even than lust and sexual crime. Why should it be so regarded? This is the reason: pride stands in the way of all learning, all progress, all improvement of oneself. We cannot escape from the bondage of our other sins until we have rid ourselves of pride. We all have bad tendencies, and we must not shy away from this fact just because I have used the conventional word “sin”. Because we think that word is outmoded is not a reason for assuming that it does not describe something real in us. All the sins I have mentioned have, so to speak, their representatives in us. We all tend to commit them in at least trivial ways and in so far as we do, we must accept responsibility. But no one will seriously blame us provided we learn from our small sins not to go further and commit big ones. But if we have pride we cannot learn this lesson. We can learn from our errors only if we have humility.
Let me take a simple example that is not actually concerned with an act that could be called sinful, namely making mistakes in arithmetic. A boy may be caught out in an arithmetic class writing down that seven sevens are seventy-seven. To be discovered in a mistake makes him a little ashamed. If he has pride he will be “huffy” when his teacher criticises his work and will hardly listen to what he says. Thus he will not learn the truth; he will have made mistakes but will be no better off at the end of the lesson. His pride stands in the way of learning. Now people do not usually feel very upset at being discovered making arithmetical mistakes, because we do not usually think of arithmetic as being very near to the centre of our character or personality. But people do become upset when they are found out in a moral error or crime, if, for instance, they have been cruel or have stolen or have told slanderous tales. They are ashamed, they feel guilt, and if they face what they have done they will for a moment feel inferior and perhaps worthless as persons. The proud person cannot bear this feeling of being inferior and he reacts away from it, pushes it out of his conscious mind, and puts on a huffy and annoyed appearance. This is a movement of withdrawal and it makes his teacher feel that he has made no headway. Instead a barrier higher than before seems to have grown between them. To be a cruel person or a thief, to be slanderous or gravely inconsiderate, is indeed to have something wrong at the very centre; and it is often overwhelmingly hard to admit this, even in private and to ourselves only. Pride stands in the way.
We all have some of this pride, but suppose it is not too much for us to be able to recognise how it stands in the way, so that we can say to it: Get thee behind me, Satan. We tell Pride to be off, and Humility takes its place. Now humility is not, for me, the same thing as what is usually called humbleness. I do not like very humble people – people who tell one almost as soon as they have been introduced that they are no good, people that parade their weaknesses in order to make an exhibition of themselves, getting notice that way because they cannot get it any other way. No, humility is something that goes with courage and strength. It a quality that enables a man to say to himself that he is inadequate, unwise, ignorant, fumbling, perhaps even perverse, and at the same time to see that these weaknesses are the very point from which he can begin to build his wisdom, his knowledge, his ability. The lesson of humility is this: in order to know the truth we must first admit that we don (sic) not know; in order to become strong we must first admit that we are weak; in order to be wise we must first admit that we are foolish. Further, in order to be honest we must first face our own dishonesty, in order to be loving we have to recognise where and when we have been unloving.
In general statements about the methods of Science I have often emphasised that it is an activity that is based on humility. When men thought they knew for certain how the universe worked they could learn nothing. It was only when they were able to admit to themselves that they knew very little for certain that their knowledge began to grow surely. It was only by beginning to doubt what they thought they knew that man began to achieve certainty.
There is a sort of pride, however that is good and I must not omit to say this and explain it. There is the pride that a craftsman feels when he stands back from a piece of finished work and says: My word, that’s good! He feels a great glow of satisfaction. This sort of pride, however, has a sense of wonder in it; in fatc (sic) in moments of this sort the pride is united with humility. Think of your own experiences. You may say to yourself: Gosh! I actually did that! How did I? You -rub your hand lovingly over the sandpapered wood, or you turn the bowl round your fingers, feeling the glaze or approving the pattern, almost as though someone else had done it, not you. Although you are proud of what you have done, yet you forget yourself in your respect for the thing that is now something independent of you. You may even call in your friends and ask them to admire it too, and still I say that your pride is wholesome, because that pride still has in it the element of wonder and surprise. But now, if when it comes to an exhibition you insist that your boat or bowl shall have the best place, where all the parents are bound to see it and if you feel annoyed when someone disputes that right, then the wrong sort of pride is beginning to creep in. The piece of craftsmanship is no longer a thing in itself to be admired and enjoyed; it is now being regarded as part of you; it is not the thing you want to be admired, but you yourself who want admiration. This is a besetting sin especially in all people who create things open to the public view, whether they paint pictures, write poems or books, design great buildings, make speeches, play cricket or drive cars. When they go beyond the joy of doing things well and begin to want to draw attention to themselves, then pride has turned bad. At this stage pride stands in the way of further progress; perhaps degeneration sets in too. Think of yourself alone in the workshop; you make a mistake. You know it is a mistake and you want to find out how to avoid such a mistake in future. Thus you turn your mistake into a thing of positive value; you make it a rung on a ladder by which you climb. But if you become concerned with admiration for yourself you will begin to say: Oh dear no, I’m not the sort of craftsman who makes mistakes. The[n] wehn (sic) next you do make a mistake you will not be able to bear it. Instead of using the mistake as a means of learning you will try to cover it up from your own eyes as well as those of other people. You will fill up the gap with plastic wood and pretend to yourself that it isn’t there.
I need hardly add that the same attitude of mind in driving a car will lead to death – probably the death of other people as well as of yourself.
I speak of craftwork and practical activities because it is so easy to illustrate from them what I mean. But precisely the same principles apply to all human activities. It is very important to realise this because in other activities the process that makes us degenerate is much more subtle. A bad mistake in woodwork cannot be covered up. The table just will not stand straight. But bad mistakes in thinking can all too easily be covered up. Even if you cannot convince other people you can easily convince yourself that you were right or they were wrong; or you can say that it is all a matter of opinion, that one opinion is as good as another. That is why intellectual pride is so dangerous, so insidious in its effect. It is just in those matters where it is essential that we should know the truth that pride sabotages all our efforts. It is often precisely at the point where we know the other person is right that we stiffen our backs and refuse to yield. It would be possible to write a very weighty volume about the endless frustration that pride has caused in politics throughout history, but I need only refer to the difficulties between East and West in our present day to show how “saving face” stands in the way of agreement, the agreement that both sides desperately desire.
The difference between humility of intellect and the proud arrogant intellect is often like the difference between a slim flexible sapling and a tree that grows stiffly. The flexible sapling can bend to the wind - and appear to be giving in to it – but it continues to grow. The brittle tree in the end snaps. I feel deeply sorry when young people become so strongly attached to a political opinion that they must always believe it right and never entertain a criticism. Either they will never learn anything new and will thus remain immature, or there will be a sudden collapse and a swing over to another creed equally narrowly held. It is intensely important that in our thinking we should always listen closely to criticism and be prepared to accept it when we cannot honestly answer it. In this I include not only the criticism from others but also the criticism from the still small voice within us, the criticism from the honest part of ourselves that tries to prevent us being caught in self-deception.
Now I must turn back to the situation that gave rise to these thoughts about pride – the close personal situation of love friendship or marriage. It may seem strange, until I have explained it, that pride is often most strong in our relations with the people we love, or think we love. It is often hardest to stand criticism from those who are closest to us. When we enter into a friendship perhaps we hope to get away from the criticism that the world all too readily heaps puon (sic) us, we want to escape from our feelings inadequacy in the love of someone who admires and thinks there’s nothing wrong with us. But friendship – and most certainly love in marriage – eventually has to face the truth. Mutual admiration has to give way to the common facing of everyday life in which all our failings are inevitably and nakedly exposed to the one person who is nearest us. When we blunder or are inconsiderate, should we expect our partner to bite off his or her tongue and suffer in silence. When we have hurt our partner must we not be made to know it? Many people find this the most difficult moment in their lives. The one person from whom they expected unqualified adoration and approval becomes the one who drives home the most unpleasant truths. How are they to face it – with pride or humility? If with pride, then a breech opens netween (sic) them that will steadily become wider until all real intimacy has gone. If with humility, then a love begins to grow, different in quality and deeper than anything that went before, a love that will withstand attacks from any quarter.
Humility requires courage, for once we begin to tread the path of humility, there is no limit to the demands it will make on us. All our weaknesses will have to be exposed and acknowledged. There will be no hiding the weeds that grow within us, and eventually even the rubbish heaps that lie around in the secret garden of our souls will have to be admitted and toilsomely carted off to the compost dump.
But the way of humility is also the way of joy. Just as for the scientist it is the way of fascinating discovery, so in our whole lives it is the way by which we come to know each other and enjoy each other. Far too often people think that love is an experience based on admiration only, that the feeling is most genuine when the loved one seems wonderful, perfect. This is not true. People are not genuinely united by their successes, their perfections, their achievements, their most admirable qualities. We can see how true this is of nations as well as of people. The most disillusioning moments in history are the moments when allies have achieved victory, for it is at that moment that they begin to become enemies. The most heartening moments in history are those when peoples are on the point of defeat and despair, when they cannot cover up their mistakes and failures and in the last act of faith unite to save each other. In friendship or marriage their (sic) is nothong (sic) that makes a person more lovable than humility, and there is nothing that stirs one’s love for one friends more than their willingness that one should know the worst about them. It is when one’s partner says “I cannot believe that I am worthy of your love” that one’s own love flows out most strongly towards that partner. It is precisely when we think that we do not deserve love that we are most lovable.
One of the universal truths about human life is that to us as individuals the problem of living are all too much for us; we are distressingly inadequate. The universe, the world, even one’s own little country – they are just too big to cope with. In relation to all these we are distressingly small and we long to say frankly to each other: I’m a pretty ineffectual creature, I can’t really cope, but perhaps if we face things together it won’t be too bad. In a truly loving relationship people do not spend their time boasting about their successes or moaning because they are not successful. They acknowledge their weaknesses and failures to each other and they enjoy enormously the discovery that they are alike in this respect, just human together. It is the recognition of our common humanity that most deeply unites us.
Now it may be asked: How can I escape from the bondage of this pride? This is the same as any other question cast in the form: How can I make myself better? First, you cannot make yourself any better by forcing yourself to behave as someone else thinks you ought to behave. You cannot escape from pride by saying to yourself: So-and-so thinks I ought not be proud and I respect his opinion. Bit (sic) I think there are moments dotted about so to speak in our lives, when we make critical decisions, when we exercise the power of choice that is specifically human. These are often moments of quietness when we see with great clearness what is wrong and when it is possible to make a choice, when we are in fact challenged to make one. I would say that these are moments when God speaks to us and offers us his strength. We neglect these moments at our peril. If we let them pass by they will come less frequently, unless lerhpas (sic) [perhaps] in some terrible crisis all our past choices are offered us once again, perhaps in tragic circumstances. If you say: I have no need of God, you are in that very act guilty of pride, because you are saying that you think your own strength is sufficient. To think that is to reject everything that I have said. We can gain strength only by admitting that we are weak and that we need help. I can find no other explanation for those occasions when we rise astonishingly above our weakness than that of a communication coming from beyond us yet seeming to speak within. If we wish to escape from the sin of pride – from the colossal folly of pride – we must choose when the moment is offered to pay attention.
Perhaps I can step aside at this point to refer to a very practical problem in school-life. In boarding schools stealing is always something of a problem, sometimes only slight, sometimes serious. This is partly because people’s property is all so open, so accessible. Sometimes we are able to trace the thief and do something to help him to overcome o[p]ermanently (sic) his thieving impulses. But sometimes we are quite unsuccessful; and I cannot think of any occasion when there has been a spontaneous admission of a theft by a person who had no reason to believe he would be caught. Theft is a serious offence against the community to which one belongs and consequently it brings a deep sense of guilt. To expose oneself in that condition would be to sink all one’s pride, and that is too much for nearly every one of us. Yet what a redeeming effect it would have; what a great lightening of the atmosphere it would bring about if when we are all worried about some instance the person concerned would come forward and say plainly “I did it and I’m sorry”. But sometimes one does hear of other instances when pride has been conquered. Here is one. We do not allow cider to be bought by pupils and local shops have instructions not to sell it to them. One day one of our girls went in to one of these shops and asked for a bottle. In reply to the question as to whether she was a scholar of this school she said: No. So she went away with the bottle. A little later she came back to the shop and said: “I told you a lie. I am from the school and here’s the cider back.” I do not know who the girl was, but I admire her courage and I am sure that there must have been a great struggle with pride before she was able to take that step.
Even when we have become aware of our pride and taken some steps to escape from its bondage, yet for a long time the habit of it will remain. Our backs will stiffen at a criticism. I am glad that the relations among our staff are such that when I have made a mistake or been inconsiderate they often feel able to tell me. But when they do, I can feel my back stiffen for about ten seconds. This always happens, even when I am most clearly aware of the truth of the criticism. But as time goes on one becomes more and more able to laugh at this apparently automatic process and finally to accept the criticism with good grace. Among friends this stiffening is easily forgiven for we all recognise each other’s humanity.
There is one last thing to be said. It refers to the incident in which Jesus set a child in the midst of his disciples and said “Unless you become as a little child you shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” There is a great deal of meaning in this, but there is one aspect of it that directly connects with what I have said. One of the ways in which the young are different from the old is this. “They have less pride, more humility; or the pride that they have, though it may seem strong, more quickly gives way. They know they have much to learn. In adults pride has often permanently hardened. The process of hardening often begins in the ‘teens’. If young people want to go on learning, about themselves and the world, if they want to go on feeling keenly alive all their days, then they must see to it that the devil of pride does not take possession and force them into a defensive retreat from life and joy and all that new experience has to offer.
Archive reference: PP KCB 3/7/2/ document 09