Instead of letting cynicism win the day, we should expand our definition of who is worthy of admiration.
By Roy Harryman
You’re probably familiar with the saying, “Never meet your heroes.”
I memorably heard this expressed by a comedian who was fired after acerbically commenting about Gene Simmons (of KISS) at a roast: “Gene, I admired you, I loved you, and then I met you.”
Perhaps you’ve felt this way after reading a biography about someone you greatly admire. As the pages turned, you realized they were all too human. Maybe a little like you or me.
The popular saying (“Don’t meet your heroes”) warns against disappointment by simply keeping distance between you and those who make you starry-eyed.
An imperfect opponent of Hitler
I had this experience recently after finishing, “Then They Came For Me,” a biography of Nazi resister Martin Niemoller by Matthew D. Hockenos. Although you may not recognize Niemoller’s name, you are probably familiar with his famous saying about standing up for people who are oppressed.
During World War II, the German Lutheran pastor was Hitler’s most prominent critic from the ranks of the clergy. He drew international support and lots of headlines. Because of Niemoller’s recalcitrance, he was imprisoned for eight years and deemed “the personal prisoner of Hitler.”
Niemoller was indeed a hero for standing athwart Nazism and yelling “Enough!” But the devil is in the details. Scholarship has revealed that Niemoller was inconsistent at best. He was not a crusader for Jewish rights and likely harbored ambivalent ideas about Jews. In the abstract, Niermoller desired equal rights for all races and creeds. But his interests were mostly confined to the Lutheran Church’s right to worship without state interference.
Yet after the war, Niemoller evolved. He began to take increasingly risky stances, speaking out for Jews and people of all races. This ultimately led him to support nuclear disarmament and pacificism.
“Once the legend is stripped away, Niemoller necessarily disappoints us,” writes Hockenos, the biographer. “But it is the imperfection of Niemoller’s moral compass that makes him all the more relevant today. This middle-class, conservative Protestant, who harbored ingrained prejudices against those not like him, did something excruciatingly difficult for someone of his background: He changed his mind. … His evolution was gradual, halting, and in many respects incomplete. But change he did. And in his fifties, sixties and seventies, he labored relentlessly to make a better, more equal, and more peaceful world.”
Have you ever changed your mind about a concept central to your life and identity? Let’s just say it’s not done easily or without paying a price. Flawed people who make progress are worthy of admiration.
Looking for heroes in all the wrong places?
We make heroes out of people who are far from us – too far away for us to see their flaws. Sometimes they present a carefully cultivated image designed to make their weaknesses opaque. Sometimes the fault lies with us for making a human into a demigod.
Many people did, and do, consider Steve Jobs a hero. But after his death many came forward to reveal he was certainly a narcissist and possibly a sociopath. When we lift the curtain of Hollywood entertainers, the same story often rings true.
Perhaps we’re looking for heroes who don’t actually exist (except in fiction). But we don’t have to give up on heroes. And we don’t have to lower our standards to reward sociopaths with a badge of honor.
Instead, maybe we need to start looking for heroes in the people who surround us each day.
Did you have a self-sacrificing mother or grandmother?
Is there a custodian who faithfully and cheerfully cleans up your mess?
Is there a customer service rep who relentlessly seeks to solve your problem, then follows up to make sure the fix is good?
Maybe the hero lives in your own home. Or next door.
I think you get my drift.
We don’t need to stop admiring celebrities, tech wizards and politicians. We can be grateful for the good work many do. But we should hesitate to put them on a pedestal they wouldn’t climb onto themselves.
Especially when the real heroes are so near.