Moral Drift

Our ability to do good is firmly rooted in our notion of what is real. The world is the stage of moral action, and those who live in it are the beneficiaries.

Our perception of what is real is build around a whole series of beliefs, attitudes, habits, and collected experiences. The countless times we fell as children, all the ways one object bounced off another, and the myriad emotional reactions we've had (plus... everything else) all coalesce together as a view of the world.

Of course, this thing can change. New ideas and experiences make changes to one part of the web, and may have an impact in other places. One of the dangers concerning moral drift is the subtle process of slow exposure to a particular behavior that erodes our sensibilities about the issue.

Avoidance of this slow process can be avoided by habitually checking in with a set of core beliefs. By revisiting the center of your values you can prevent the drift.

Caution. The process of going astray from the good is, psychologically speaking, identical to the process by which someone realizes that some false good they used to strive for is actually empty. We should not hold to false goods. So, if you feel yourself drifting, you need to consider very hard the moral reality at hand, asking real and difficult questions about that is good. You may find that something that once was held as a moral truth is actually an illusion. You may also find that a desire generated by a poor aesthetic orientation to the world is drawing you toward a dangerous road. Be honest. Then either make the change, or prevent the drift.

There is another form of moral drift that is not so subtle. Sometimes you are placed in worlds vastly from our own. Warfare, travel, new cultures, new jobs, education, children, loss of children... they all have the powerful ability to alter your humanity. It's important to know that you should not resist all chance that these things offer. In fact, you should do our best to be vulnerable to the experiential wisdom that such vastness offers.

But on a moral front, there are dangers. Since the pillars of human perception are built on habit, a sudden and complete alteration of our sensations threatens your sense of what is morally real. Suddenly all of the things you knew were wrong become shaken. You take a group of good boys from Wisconsin, put them in the jungle, deprive them of sleep, starve them, shoot at them, make them kill, and in six months they are wearing necklaces of the ears of slain women and children.

Knowing the power of moral drift, of course I my heart goes out to those boys from Wisconsin. I don't automatically assume that they were all monsters lurking beneath a facade. In most cases, you put those boys back in their homes, and they not only stop wearing fetishes of death, but they become endlessly sorry for what they did.

So while I have no hate for the wrong that is done in these radical situations, I ask, "What can be done to prevent it?" Just because I can understand it, doesn't mean I have to submit to its power.

One way to prevent moral drift in situations vastly different from your life is to swear oaths. Sometimes your honor, and your commitment to your word is the only thing that gets you through. By letting those words echo in your minds can be a very direct reminder of something you once thought was key to your moral well being.

Another trick that can work is by finding a small way of giving ourselves sensory comfort. A small talisman that you wear. An object you turn over in the palm of our hand. A phrase you whisper to yourself. These experiences, while small and seemingly insignificant, can offer a little piece of home and give you rest.