Speak Softly And Carry A Big Stick

Nice doesn’t scale. True peace comes through the potential for the moral application of strength, not through meekness, or weakness.

(image created by the author using ChatGPT 4o)

This quote from Theodore Roosevelt came to mind as I was listening to a podcast recently. The topic at that moment was related to international diplomacy and the reality that there are bad people in power in the world. I wrote several weeks ago about the idea that some character traits work well on a micro level, but they do not scale well. I believe that “nice” is one of those. Nice doesn’t scale, not at a macro level (like in global or geopolitical contexts) or at a micro level (like in interpersonal relationships).

One argument against this idea is that it’s better to be nice, to be kind, to be “good.” But the problem there is that a blanket philosophy of nice might in fact be more enabling than virtuous. Niceness in response to some degree of antagonism from another is often a sign of weakness. Weakness, in the guise of being nice, can enable toxic behavior to continue, partly because it can also be easily manipulated. People whose personalities are more compassionate are more prone to be uncomfortable with conflict. So they are more likely to need “nice” to feel stable in the world. But compassionate people are more vulnerable to manipulation by predators for the simple fact that it feels uncomfortable to them when something feels “not nice.” So compassionate people are more easily influenced when what appears to be a nice alternative is presented to them.

So, while being nice might seem to be the ideal, that actually warrants a much more sophisticated exploration of the nuances of application. Weakness is not the only motive that might appear on the surface to be niceness. Sometimes it might be avoidance, an aversion to conflict, pretending to be easygoing or accommodating simply because you are afraid of the discomfort of disagreement. Virtue signaling and the creation of a certain false image can also appear as niceness, when the sentiment or behavior isn’t actually genuine or authentic at all. Niceness could also be a cover for passive-aggressive behavior, which is actually more about controlling someone else without a direct confrontation. 

Not being secure enough in yourself, your needs, and your priorities can also create a dysfunctional niceness.  A weak sense of self identity can show up as a heightened degree of agreeableness, when you really just haven’t done the work to understand yourself and your own needs. It could also be that you would benefit from improving your assertiveness, asking for (maybe even insisting on) what you need from another to help you work toward the very best version of yourself. Additionally, not being well grounded in your own beliefs and motivations can lead to the fear of being labeled by others as mean or aggressive, just for standing up for yourself, leading to a deference that is really nothing more than that same self-sacrificing lack of assertiveness.

In contrast to the problems of an undifferentiated application of niceness, I would suggest the intentional application of what we might call moral maturity: The strength to do the right thing, as gently as possible, but forcefully when necessary. Being strong is not the same thing as being aggressive. Strength and compassion are not mutually exclusive. Real strength is not in the use of force itself, but in the having of it combined with the appropriate restraint of it. Having the potential and the willingness to use force, but only when necessary. Capacity, plus self-control.

In contrast to being too nice, we also have to be mindful of using force when it’s unnecessary. There is an Old Testament story about Moses in the desert with the Israelites that describes how a lack of restraint gets us into trouble. At this point in the Israelites’ 40 years of wanderings, they have run out of water, and they are complaining and urging Moses to ask God for help. God tells Moses to ask the rocks to produce water. Moses decides to use force instead, using his staff aggressively to compel the rocks to produce water. The rocks do produce water, from Moses’ command (ie, the force used was effective). But God punishes Moses for using force when a peaceful request would have been enough, and the punishment was severe.  

Despite having the courage and strength of character to stand up to the the Egyptian Pharaoh, leading the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, leading them through all the trials of surviving 40 years in the desert, despite being the only one with whom God will meet and to whom God gives the 10 commandments (twice), Moses’ use of force when a verbal invitation would do carries a severe consequence. As a result of his unnecessary aggression, Moses is not allowed to finally lead the Israelites into the promised land when the time comes. The clear lesson here is a strong prohibition against the use of unnecessary force. 

Jesus illustrated the proper balance of force and compassion. One reason that much of the Jewish society at the time did not recognize him as the savior from their prophecies is that they were expecting a military leader, someone who would forcefully overthrow their oppressors (in this case, the Roman government). Their problem with Jesus is that he never showed up that way. Instead, he turned everything upside down, teaching the importance of being a servant leader. Time after time, Jesus called out people’s sin from a place of love, compassion, and grace. He never used force, not even at the end when he was being tortured and mocked to do just that. He did not call on divine power to defeat his tormentors. Instead, he demonstrated the paradoxical combination of power with love, compassion, invitation, and mercy. That’s particularly relevant during the Easter season.

It is possible, maybe even necessary, to have a significant degree of power available to you, but to use as little of it as necessary to make your point. I would go so far as to say that’s a moral obligation. Access to power does not justify use of power, and certainly not its abuse. But there are very bad actors in the world. On a local level and on an international and political level. Given that, access to power is sometimes necessary to bring about peace. Using it appropriately, when necessary, is also a moral obligation. A true peace-maker may not look like you would expect. A true peace-maker is not domineering. But he or she is also NOT weak. There is a strong element of servant leadership in a true peace-maker. 

The true peace-maker IS paradoxical: I would really prefer that we resolve this peacefully. But if things devolve to the point that my use of force is necessary, I have a moral obligation to use it. That won’t go well for you.