A person very dear to me once told me that morality could be summed up in one simple rule: “Just don’t be an asshole.” At first, I nodded along, because—yeah, fair enough. If everyone just followed that, life would be a lot smoother. It’s an easy moral guideline, clean and concise, something you can carry in your pocket and pull out in any situation.
But the more I thought about it, the more it started to unravel.
What happens when your decisions don’t just affect a few people, but hundreds, thousands, or even millions? What if you’re in a position where every choice has cascading effects, creating ripples you can’t even predict? The problem with “just don’t be an asshole” is that it assumes morality is about avoiding harm rather than actively pursuing good. And in high-stakes situations, in leadership, in influence, in shaping the world—avoidance is not enough.
I think about that psychological experiment—one of many, really—where you tell kids not to do something, and suddenly, their impulse to do it skyrockets. There’s something inherently flawed about moral frameworks that are framed in the negative, in what not to do, instead of what to pursue. A morality that is passive—designed to avoid the bad—will always be weaker than a morality that is active, one that pushes you to seek, to learn, to engage with the world in a meaningful way.
And that’s where the real work comes in.
The Constant Pursuit of Understanding
If you’re serious about morality, you can’t just pick a single principle and let it sit there like an idle compass. You have to test it, refine it, challenge it—because morality is not a fixed point. It’s a lifelong pursuit.
That means studying religions, not just one, but many—seeing how different cultures and philosophies have tackled the questions of good and evil. It means diving into history, philosophy, psychology, not because you need to agree with everything, but because the broader your lens, the sharper your judgment. You can’t navigate the complexity of moral decision-making with a single, rigid framework. You need depth, nuance, and range—a kind of intellectual flexibility that allows you to see the full spectrum of ethical thought.
This is especially true for anyone who aspires to wield influence. The bigger the stage, the greater the weight of your moral calculus. The decisions of an ordinary person can afford to be simple. The decisions of a leader cannot.
The Two Moral Rules: Proactive vs. Passive
And then there’s the contrast between the two “Golden Rules” of morality—the ones attributed to Jesus and Confucius:
- Jesus: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
- Confucius: “Do not do unto others what you would not want done to you.”
The difference is subtle but profound. One is proactive. The other is protective. One pushes you to create good, while the other tells you to avoid causing harm. Neither is superior; they are tools for different seasons, different dilemmas.
But I find myself drawn to a morality that balances both—one that actively seeks to make things better, rather than just sidestepping wrongdoing. Because life is not a series of moral landmines you have to avoid stepping on. It’s a field you have to learn to cultivate.
A Morality That Prepares You for Influence
At the end of the day, morality—at least the kind that matters in the long run—can’t just be about not being an asshole. That’s the baseline, the starting point. The real work is in constantly refining your understanding, exposing yourself to new perspectives, and developing a moral framework that is adaptive, thoughtful, and proactive.
Because when the time comes, and you find yourself in a position where your choices shape the lives of many—you’ll realize that “don’t be an asshole” is simply not enough. You’ll need something deeper, something sharper. And the only way to prepare for that moment is to start building it now.