On Being a Good Person

I think I’m a good person relative to what society expects of individuals, but I’m not a very good person on an absolute scale.

I understand what is required for me and mine to live out a comfortable life within the bounds of the system we have—and I work within the bounds of that system to obtain it, as ethically as possible.

Everyone else tries to do the same, with varying levels of success—and varying ethics.

I understand that most people’s rate of success will not match either their ambitions or their needs. I’ve adjusted my ambitions to fit well-within my ability to achieve within the confines of this system. I understand that, viewed on a global scale, this approach works for almost no-one.

I understand that a higher level of goodness would be to ignore my personal comfort and work more toward changing the system so that it brings comfort and security and happiness and fulfillment to a much higher percentage of others—who are not me and mine—but I have, for the meantime, found my peace with knowing all of this, but still acting selfishly, on an absolute scale.

It’s partly (or mostly?) because of a confluence of fortuitous circumstances from which I am fortunate enough benefit that I have the luxury to live the way I do. Capability and determination are nothing without opportunity. And luck. Don’t forget luck.

I comfort myself with the belief that it all doesn’t really matter, or that there is no-one really judging—or even, really, in a position to judge—or that, judged by the severely limited scope of our selfish society, I am an exceedingly good person.

That’s nice, of course, but it’s only we’re accustomed to using an inadequately ethical ruler.