"The wise and moral man
Shines like a fire on a hilltop,
Making money like a bee,
Who does not hurt the flower."

[The Pali Canon, circa 500-250 B.C.]

The bill for my purchases came to $153 or so. I handed the clerk $170 and, in the adding machine of my mind, I expected back $17 or so in change. The clerk, dutifully counting the money handed to her, entered the total of the "amount tendered" into her register. The change due the customer, according to the register, was reported back as $33 dollars. Not bothering to question the information which was presented to her, the clerk handed me that amount back and bid me "Good Morning." I briefly turned away and, when it finally clicked in my ever-slowing cerebral cortex that I was given too much change, I turned back to the harried youngster and reported the error. After overcoming her initial (and seemingly profound) shock at someone offering to give back money that was a result of her error, she sheepishly recounted the change and efficiently made it the correct sum: that is, $17.00. Perhaps, in the sheer novelty of the moment, she forgot to thank me for catching her error or to bid me "Good morning" a second time. It was of little importance. I smiled, and reflected, as I wheeled my cart out of the store. For a short time, I thought about the implications of this simple interaction. There were, when all was said and done, quite a number of aspects to the simple commercial exchange. [Which just proves that too much contemplation by senior citizens - especially over niggling matters - can lead to some pretty bizarre and, often, verbose web logs!]

While this is merely a trivial, uncomplicated example of moral behavior and does not, in any way, make a statement of any type (other than in this one isolated instance, someone behaved correctly), I have thought a great deal lately about the roots of morality. Since morality and virtue in contemporary society is viewed with surprise rather than a matter of fact, I wonder what has changed? Indeed, on a fundamental level, what makes us moral? What engenders virtue? And why have these once valued and cherished behavior patterns fallen away from our thinking and behaving?

These are question best left to deep thinkers of the philosophical realm. Everyone from Socrates to Aristotle to Erasmus and onward have discussed the subject. But, at times, even simpler minds can begin to address them or, at least, think about them. And, of late, one of those simpler minds has been my own. For me, the hardest task was to try and separate religious indoctrination from the strictly human choice of being virtuous. Can it be done at all?

I am of the opinion that it can. After discussing this with several other people, I have discovered I am in the distinct minority. Since the "minority opinion" is a familiar place in which I find myself often, that, too, is of little significance. I am lately convinced that man may make moral decisions - and make them correctly - without the ominous scythe of religious damnation hanging over his head. In my minority view, in everyday decisions regarding what is good and what is proper, it is not necessary to rely, strictly, on the religious tenets. I submit that man is capable of making choices on moral questions - large and small - guided only by his own right reasoning of what is "good" and "proper."

I will agree, though, that it is a difficult question to tease out. Most of us passed through our formative years with, at least, some degree of familiarity with religious doctrine. Virtually all of us have been exposed to the Ten Commandants and the teaching (at least in the Christian faiths) of the teachings of Jesus Christ. The only truly valid assessment as to whether a moral adult can spring from strictly internal logic would be to study those raised in a complete "religious vacuum." While such a study may be easily undertaken in the future, (simply because the number of test subjects fitting this description is increasing), it remains problematic among my age group as, culturally, most of my generation were raised, at least to some degree, with a religious grounding.

That being as it may, I still am convinced that those of us who may have been grounded early in religion but have since become, for a greater part of our lives, inactive in (and unexposed to) church philosophy are still capable of moral behavior. The essence - the seed, if you will - possibly is the seemingly innate capacity of humans to feel empathy. It is a vague but virtually universal characteristic of the human species, this capacity to "feel" the discomfort, pain and angst of our fellow humans. We know, at almost a DNA level, that our actions have consequences for others of our species. And, since our choices do impact others, we make these decisions, at least partially, based on our degree of empathy with our fellow man.

Empathy, in the logic of Aristotle (who was, clearly, no Christian though, arguably, he was a moral man), is one of the "moral virtues" of man. Aristotle saw truly moral behavior as a mean - a midpoint - between various conflicting vices and virtues. For example, Aristotle’s "moral man" lay somewhere between "insensitivity" and "licentiousness": a median between complete the absence of pleasure (insensitivity) and the complete immersion in pleasure-seeking behavior (licentiousness). A moral man must balance excesses of virtue at both extremes. Excessive bravery is foolhardiness; the absence of it is cowardice. Excessive generosity ("liberality" to Aristotle) is extravagance ("prodigality" to Aristotle); the lack of it is greed. All of the emotions of humankind have these dichotomies and, in the view of Aristotle, the moral man seeks a median between the extremes. I, for one, understand and appreciate this description. It is simple enough - and makes enough sense - for me to accept as one view. I do not posit that it is the only view.

If we can assume that, in most humans, our inborn empathy - the attachment we feel with those of our own species - lends itself to an understanding of the consequences of our choices and our actions. If we can agree on that, it would logically follow that a moral man would consciously decide to temper the excesses of his passions to lessen the disturbance his actions might have on society. One must bridle rage, avarice, lust, envy, hate and the other emotions that are part and parcel of human life in order to live a moral life. We do this, if for no other reason, to protect those with whom we identify from our own harmful actions. For to act against the interests of "the other" (a complicated concept in and of itself) is, to the empathetic, virtuous man, anathema to the life to which he aspires and the world he envisions.

If one doubts that the seeds of empathy are inborn, we can always look backward to our closest animal relatives: the great apes. You might recall the dramatic video from 1996 that depicted Binta Jua, a lowland gorilla at an Illinois zoo, who miraculously saved the life of a 3-year old boy who fell into her pen and was rendered unconscious by the fall. With other apes in the enclosure threatening to harm the child, Binta Jua, who was carrying her own infant on her back, cradled the boy in her arms and took him to a door where zoo keepers and paramedics could attend to him. Water was sprayed on the other gorillas to keep them away.

Now, I must admit that it might be argued that this was simply an act of "maternal instinct." These naysayers might argue that if a rag doll had fallen into the pen, the animal would have acted the same. But, who is to know the real answer? And, if this is "simply" maternal instinct, is not that very instinct a refined form of empathy? I chose to believe that this was an example of a lower animal exhibiting rudimentary emotional connection with an injured child threatened by his accidental environment.

A further example of empathy in related species (and, clearly, without religious overtones) was mentioned recently in an article in Time magazine. As the article relates: "One of the first and most poignant observations of empathy in nonhumans was made by Russian primatologist Nadia Kohts, who studied nonhuman cognition in the first half of the 20th century and raised a young chimpanzee in her home. When the chimp would make his way to the roof of the house, ordinary strategies for bringing him down—calling, scolding, offers of food—would rarely work. But if Kohts sat down and pretended to cry, the chimp would go to her immediately. "He runs around me as if looking for the offender," she wrote. "He tenderly takes my chin in his palm ... as if trying to understand what is happening."

The distress feigned by the trainer brought a rescue response from the wayward chimp. I submit that is the nature of empathy. To feel another’s pain and respond to it appropriately. That is the essence of morality, in this author’s opinion. Is a chimp to be considered a moral animal? Clearly not. They do not exhibit the stages beyond empathy - living a virtuous life through moderations of passions and desires - that complete the moral man. But, in this cross-species example of empathy we can make, I believe, the larger point: that empathy, the necessary but not sufficient rudimentary spark of morality can be displayed in the complete absence of religious indoctrination.

Thus, we edge closer to proving our premise. Specifically, that morality in man can exist in a "doctrinal vacuum." It is more an inherent, primal part of our being and, similarly, our thinking. We can hone and fortify moral behavior in ourselves, quite distinct from spiritual teachings or societal restraints. To temper ourselves against vices through practice and constant attention, we can cultivate those qualities which even the most stubborn religious doctrinaires would be compelled to accept as truly a moral life.

I hope to revisit this topic again soon. But, in conclusion, I submit the following: Empathy and the virtues engendered by it are our natural gift. To deny it these feelings or neglect their cultivation is a crime against what we might all become and, indeed, what we were meant to be. We possess a great gift that, with proper attention and dedication, has the potential to make our lives special, if to no one else but ourselves.

And that, should be goal enough for any member of the human community.