To greed, all nature is insufficient.
Seneca
A recent NPR story featured a woman who commuted over two hours a day so that she could have a five bedroom, three bath home. Considering her family consisted of her, her husband and a small child, I thought her desire for such a large home was greedy. Her greed, it seemed, was ruining her life. Does our culture maintain a strong sense of greed as an ethical concept? The woman in the story certainly has no such sense, and I think we no longer do.
Greed is defined as the desire for more of something than one needs. A simple seeming notion on which ethical thinkers and lawmakers have focused their attention for over 3,000 years. Sumptuary laws, mortal sins, ritual cleansings, absolutions, and renunciations have all been designed to address the problem of greed. Disturbingly, I see little evidence for greed as a concept in our society. Renouncing a good portion of the legal and ethical history of our civilization, we have, as a society, managed to almost completely eliminate it as an active idea. I offer, then, a short consideration of greed.
If greed means wanting more than one needs, then we need to know what we need is in order to understand greed. Need, however, is a subtle concept. Humans, as animals, need food and shelter. It is no great task to determine how much food and shelter we need to survive. Yet, we are not just animals. We have intellectual and emotional capacities that are at least as important as a certain minimum of calories and crude shelter. Humans are more than capable to suffer, forego food, even die in pursuit of intangibles like honor, love, and justice; it is one of our species’ most endearing traits. In any case, as a society we have ceased worrying about necessities in this sense. We have vastly more than we could ever need. In totalitarian societies, the state would tell someone what they needed and then strive, usually without success, to provide it. Fortunately, we live in a country that protects some of the rights of the individual. The primary responsibility of deciding need, then, falls to the individual. You and I must decide for ourselves what it is we need. In a society of overwhelming abundance, it is no simple thing to determine this. For instance, one needs to have some form of shelter. But what kind of shelter? Should it be a room in a shared house that rents for $300 a month, or a seven bedroom, five bath, waterfront house for $5 million? On one hand, our prime cultural narrative tells us insistently the house is better than the room. We are told endlessly to want the big house on the beach. On the other hand, our counterculture tells us no, no, no; you only need a single small room in a shared living arrangement. “Live simply, that others may simply live”, reads the insipid bumper sticker. Unfortunately, the notion of minimum necessary space has given rise to Soviet apartment blocks and massive public assistance housing projects that both proved dismal failures for the people who had to live in them. The bigger is better mentality evident in the vogue for McMansions is also failing as the market deteriorates and consumers have second thoughts. Is bigger better, or is less really more? The answer to this seeming conundrum is that it will vary from person to person. Not surprisingly, different people want different things for different reasons. This simple observations leads to no end of complications as it becomes impossible to have a generic response to any question of need. Only the individual can answer what need is for his or herself. And the answer must come, at least in part, from within them. Thus, one necessary component of assessing your needs is to assess yourself – introspection.
To assess one’s needs, one has to ask; what do I need? Why do I think I need it? Unfortunately, introspection is both treacherous and never ending. Today I can convince myself of something that, upon a days reflection, may seem pointless. Further, our culture promotes desire without introspection. We are encouraged to want, not to question why we want. Desire is seen as good in and of itself. Introspection can help explore the question of why, but can also be painful. If I want a new iPhone because I am insecure, do I really want to know? Is it not easier to simply desire and purchase rather than enter the dangerous realm of self-examination? When our desires are closely associated with self-image, the stakes are particularly high. For instance, to be found attractive is a widely held and natural desire. But what does attractive mean? Attractive to whom and in what way? Are we striving to look sexy, businesslike, conservative, trendy, or non-descript? We are often quick to judge the style choices of others, but less likely to question our own modes of dress. Note, one cannot avoid the question of style. As long as we have choice, we have style forced upon us. The one freedom we do not have is the freedom from choosing. We must choose, then, but how? An honest appraisal of how one wishes to be seen and, perhaps even more difficult, how one is in fact perceived by others, is no simple project. Our culture encourages us to make these decisions quickly, without reflection, and then move on to the next desire. As obviously flawed as this approach is, it seems to have completely dominated our patterns of thinking about need.
Because we have almost no tradition of introspection, we cannot begin to understand our own needs. Without an understanding of need, we cannot have a concept of greed. Only the most extreme examples of greed can be identified as such because the grossness of our insensitivity to need precludes us from finer distinctions.
Perhaps the crowning example of our culture of greed is the oft repeated admonition to “follow your dreams.” Classic literature and folklore are filled with stories illustrating the dangers of following one’s dreams. Oedipus pursued the truth, Midas lusted after gold, and Icarus flew too close to the sun. The implication of these stories, that we need to be wary of our dreams and ambitions, has been lost. For us, our dreams are assumed to be worth following without further question. Our issue is how to achieve the dreams, not whether they are worthy, possible or healthy. To look inward to understand the nature of our desires is clearly not part of our cultural ethos. Hence, our desires guide us, untrammeled by any notion of greed, to whatever ends they will. Those ends, I fear, will not be good for us individually or collectively.