Courage – Part I

I thought this was going to be one post, but not so. This is going to take a few parts to get all the way through. When I was a young Lieutenant – and even before that at Officer Candidate School – we learned the acronym for the Marine Corps’ 14 Leadership Principles (JJ DID TIE BUCKLE!) The “C” stands for Courage, and we were taught there were two kinds – moral and physical. At the time, I remember thinking how cool it was that the Corps recognized moral courage as separate and distinct from Physical Courage. How cool and, well, downright ethical, right?
Recently I’ve had a number of professional and personal ‘instances’ (I’ll call them) that gave me pause to reconsider what Courage means. I’m not so sure the distinction exists. In fact, I’ll argue below there is none.
My job, fortunately, puts me around some pretty smart – and pretty damn courageous – people. (By the by, this isn’t going to be some blog post seeking to elevate me by my association with courageous people. I think like most people I’ve had moments where I’ve been courageous – and I’ve also shrunk from things – sometimes small, sometimes big, because of fear. More on that below, as well.)

One of the interesting aspects of being friends with a person who is steeped in mathematics, science,  and empiricism, is his constant demand for units of measurement on things. I was standing at a bar and looking around when I was struck by an interesting contrast. In the foreground was a man who has won one of the highest awards for bravery this nation confers – he’s a legit war hero. He’s also a physical specimen and he looks every bit the part of a war hero: square jaw, big hands, round shoulders. You’d be surprised if he wasn’t a war hero. He was standing there joking with someone. In the background was someone I also know (quite well) and who I had personally witnessed do something incredibly brave. This man is small, portly, and well, about as unimposing as you could possibly imagine. He did not lift a fallen log off of someone, nor jump on a hand-grenade. But when I witnessed his act – I remember thinking, “Wow. That was fucking ballsy.” And he did not act calm, cool, or collected. He was shitting a brick about it.
So I started thinking about that contrast as the two men were in my line of sight at the same time. Nothing about what I’m saying is revolutionary. Volumes have been written about bravery and courage. As I mulled it over, though, I started thinking about how one quantifies courage. And that attempt at an empirical measurement of courage took me in some different ways. Courage is quantified by the amount/level of fear overcome.

But first, a video I think is illustrative of some points. The first minute to a minute-and-a-half is what’s important.