In his New York Times bestselling book The Road to Character, David Brooks explores the Adam I and the Adam II archetypes – the two opposing sides of our nature taken from the two accounts of creation in the Book of Genesis. Adam I is all about building a resume. His focus is external. It is about position. About promotion. Degrees earned. Awards won. Being the perfect company man. Adam II, on the other hand, is about the internal. He wants a robust moral compass. He seeks to better understand traits like dignity, honesty, purpose, and the sacred. He thinks about meaning. From the depths of his soul, he wants to know why. In a series of focused biographies, Brooks measures his subjects against these archetypes in order to understand how true character is built. It turns out that it takes time and a good measure of failure. What is more, it can be achieved because of personal flaws, not despite them. Dwight Eisenhower could be short tempered. George Eliot was needy. Dorothy Day lived the life of a Bohemian before she found the Catholic Church and her vocation to help the poor. The same could be said about Augustine. The subjects are many, and the imperfections, categorically all over the board. Through his profiles, however. Brooks makes the powerful case that we can, indeed, rise above ourselves to achieve some level of personal mastery that makes us role models for others on the path toward character. All we need to do is think of others more than ourselves and constantly reach for holiness. Adam I has his place in the world; Adam II should nevertheless remain the singular aim.
Brooks, however, leaves his readers with a shrewd observation. In this day and age, Adam I is dominant, and Adam II is dismissed. The superficial seems to dominate the culture. Our young even buy into it, and we wonder why suicide is on the rise. In them, Adam II was never encouraged. Character was never thrust forth as something to pursue building. They swipe. They tweet. They post silly and even degrading images. And all the while, from parents to teachers to bosses to the media juggernaut, they are told how perfect they already are, told not to change, told to stay the way they are.
What does this mean? No struggle. And no struggle means a loss of the opportunity to build character.
My grandfather used to tell me that at a very young age he decided to root hog or die. What this meant was that he was going to give it his all, and if he failed, he failed with his head up. He had character. He was a man of immense dignity and humility. A physician. A Catholic deacon. An Army officer, And, most importantly, a father. But also a man with flaws. Just like the rest of us.
I am fairly convinced that many of the students who take me their freshman year have been pushed through high school. They just sort of land in my classroom. Some look at their cellphones the whole time. Others just stare. Few take notes. The book appears to be optional in their minds. I do my best to reach them, of course, but increasingly I am beginning to wonder if I am up against something very large and formidable: an Adam I culture where the push is to check the boxes and build the resume. College is just one box to check. Asking the Adam II questions is unnecessary, at best, and tedious, at worst. They just want the grade. There is nothing to think about.
Brooks’ book, then, is a rallying cry to a society fatally distant from the Adam II mindset. While there are still those who really do crave character, and a good many, I hasten to say, do attend my classes, the deficit is apparent. We see it in the values society holds up. We see it in how the young are unmoored. The cellphones must be put aside for the real conversations to finally take place.
https://www.amazon.com/Road-Character-David-Brooks/dp/0812983416
