Military / National Security / Foreign Policy

After yearlong delay, the US Air Force is ready to field Raytheon’s new smart bomb, Air Force Times
Ramstein Air Base to host new NATO space center, Defense News
US Charges Six Russians with Major Cyberattacks, Defense One
Indonesia rejected US request to host spy planes,  Al Jazeera
The US Navy’s stealth destroyer conducts its first missile test, Navy Times
Marines vs. China ― the Corps just put these tactics to the test, Marine Corps Times
The Military’s Mission: Artificial Intelligence in the Cockpit, The Cypher Brief

Wildland Fire / Law Enforcement

Good Samaritans help rescue wounded Kan. officer amid shooting, Police 1 Daily News
‘Operation Wave and Get Out’: A simple approach to community policing, Police 1
A firefighter’s guide to fireground search and rescue – Part 2, FireRescue 1 Daily News
The power of the ‘inside-outsider’: Clear-eyed observations that can change everything, FireRescue 1 Daily News
NOLA superintendent to retire; announcement prompts conflicting reactions, FireRescue 1 Daily News
All Clear Foundation and CrewCare™ Connect to Support First Responders, Fire Engineering
Firefighters partner with SWAT to enhance response, Police 1

Mountain

Preseason Ski Touring Training, Uphill Athlete
Trogkofel: new route in Italy’s Carnic Alps by Anna & Michal Coubal, Planetmountain
The best ski bindings of 2021, FREESKIER
VIDEO: Abandoned Mine Converted To Mountain Bike Playground, Unofficial Networks
The Definitive Guide to Dawn Patrol, Outside Magazine
Lawsuit by Tech CEO Over Failed Everest Bid Could Be Big Problem for Guides, Adventure Journal
The Wide Boyz Visit Scottish Bridge Cracks, Climbing Magazine
85-Year-Old Thru-Hiker Dale Sanders Just Lapped The Grand Canyon, Adventure Journal

Fitness / Health / Nutrition

Think You Have ‘Normal’ Blood Pressure? Think Again, NYT
How Your Muscle Fibers Might Predict Overtraining, Outside Magazine
The Food Industry’s “model of systemic dishonesty”, Nutrition Facts
Play It Safe: Innovative Gaiters and Face Masks For Any Indoor or Outdoor Workout, Men’s Journal
Could excessive sugar intake contribute to aggressive behaviors, ADHD, bipolar disorder? Science Daily
Should You Be Worried If Your Joints Crack All the Time? Health.com
Meet Flo Filion Meiler, the 84-Year-Old Track and Field Athlete With Over 775 Medals, SELF
Watch a Champion Rock Climber Take on Bruce Lee’s Grueling Training Program, Men’s Health

Interesting

A 30-Mile Rafting Trip Through Alaska’s Tongass National Forest, NYT
Will Colorado Bring Back Wolves? It’s Up to Voters, Adventure Journal
Doctors May Have Found Secretive New Organs in the Center of Your Head, NYT

By Joe Hogan

I had a great fire department career but my retirement was inglorious. I’d sustained a hearing injury. Tinnitus and muffled voices were an obstacle but I was physically sound. My biggest problem was, and is, discerning speech from background noise. I could have let it go but made the choice to press for hearing aids as my specialist had recommended. I did so knowing that it was likely to lead to a medical retirement and it did. You could say I quit and I would not argue.

There was no open house or congratulatory speeches. I was placed on medical leave for several months while my case was reviewed, then I received a notice that I was done. I came in, turned in my gear, and left. That’s how I wanted it. I’d always hated watching guys on their last shift. Everyone feels obligated to let them know they will be missed, while also planning the meal for the next shift and watching to see who’s transferring into the open slot. The fire department is a closed community and even those who spent decades in it are outsiders on their last shift.

I could go over why I decided to leave, but we all have our reasons. Some people find a home in the fire department and they never want to leave. Some want to leave but they cannot afford to. Some are forced off kicking and screaming due to age or disability. I empathize with all of this but did not land in any of those categories. I felt that staying longer would not be good for me, my family or ultimately the department. I was in a position where I could afford to go, so I accepted the medical decision without protest. It’s been nearly two years since my last full shift and over a year since my retirement was official. I’ve not regretted the decisions once but there have been struggles.

Retiring Did Not Exercise My Demons

I once thought traumatic injuries or cancer were the biggest workplace hazards and I’ve definitely seen firefighters suffer from both. But I’ve realized that the grinding impact of sleep deprivation and exposure to tragedy are a more universal threat. As I aged I felt the sleepless nights more and more and I noticed mental health red flags. I looked forward to the restful nights and peace of retirement as I blamed the job for many of my personal issues.

I will say, without hesitation, that regular sleep has done wonders. I think more clearly, I have more energy and I’m a better person overall when I’m fully rested. I suspect we all are. But getting 8 hours a night has not changed who I am. I continue to suffer from many of the traits that concerned me when I was working. I can still be hyper-vigilant, quick to anger and prone to bouts of depression. I haven’t seen a traumatic event since I left the job and the only dangers I’ve faced are recreational, but I still fight the same demons.

I had been regularly visiting with a therapist before I retired but quit when I left. I assumed that leaving a stressful job would alleviate the need for him. I was wrong. Whether my issues stem from PTSD or just being an asshole, I don’t know. But I do now know that a year or so without riding a fire truck wasn’t enough to fix me. The hard, embarrassing, uncomfortable work of addressing my personal issues remains. I do have more time to reflect and less overall pressure, but I still need and use therapy.

I Manage Time Poorly

I once spent a couple of years assigned to a slow firehouse. I was disappointed by the assignment but vowed to use the free time well. I was going to up my fitness, increase my administrative skills and read more. None of those things happened. In fact, having free time only served as an excuse for procrastination. Not only did I fail to capitalize on my time for self-improvement but I found myself regressing. If anything, my fitness and professionalism shrunk instead of grew.

Retirement has proven to be much the same. The honeymoon phase of sleeping in and lounging had no definitive end. I found myself growing restless with inactivity but struggled to solve for it. I had no schedule, which is probably great for some people, but it wasn’t for me. I needed a morning alarm and a list of things to do or I’d find myself doing nothing at all. The problem was, I lacked the personal discipline to make that happen. I’ve found that I must have external deadlines to meet or I’m likely to do little if anything of merit.

I Need Purpose

Being a firefighter had been part of my identity since I was 19 and I’d often wondered how I would define myself without it. I took great satisfaction from my work and I enjoyed the admiration of the public. I also loved being a part of a wider family. I was welcome in any firehouse in America, or the world for that matter. What would become of me without that sense of belonging? How would I deal with being a regular civilian?

Surprisingly, the lack of belonging has not bothered me in the least. I don’t get envious when I see an engine roll by with lights and sirens. I don’t have any desire to drop by any firehouses to swap stories. I don’t wear many shirts with my department emblem. I’m fine without all that. What bothers me is a lack of purpose. I realize now that the draw was not so much the trappings of the job but the importance of it. My work had weight. The things we did were really needed and we really mattered. That leaves a hole when it is gone.

I took a part-time job at a farm and home store to get out of the house. The pay was minimal but I wanted an outlet. Plus, we’d moved to a small rural community and I wanted to meet people. My coworkers were great. They get up daily and work their asses off to make a living in a place with limited opportunities, and they do so without complaint. I respected them but the work left me empty. I took no satisfaction from building a neatly stacked pallet of dog food or loading someone’s car with their merchandise. I’ve always loathed the kind of people who act as if simple work is below them, so I was bothered by my own outlook. Why was honest labor so unsatisfying to me? It finally dawned on me that it was because it had no meaningful impact. I’ve become addicted to purpose. If my family needed me to bring that check home it would be another story, but we didn’t need it. I was just taking up time and gaining nothing.

I have an egotistical need to impact the world around me. I have to know that what I’m doing matters. That was something I rarely questioned in my professional life. When I was on the line, every shift held the potential to save a home, deliver a baby or comfort someone in grief. Even as a training officer I knew my efforts were equipping others to do vital work over their entire careers. I realize now what a unique life that is. So few people get the chance to see the direct impact of what they do in others’ lives. Having spent my entire adulthood doing so, I can’t be without it.

Purpose does not mean I have to make ladder rescues. In retirement, I’ve found purpose in helping people improve their fitness. I’ve found purpose in mentoring young people. I’ve found purpose in writing. I have to seek meaningful outlets for my energy or I will be restless and unsatisfied.

I Miss the Relationships

Firefighters are fascinating. I’ve fought fires beside former Olympic medalists and former ironworkers. I’ve been fed by some of the best cooks in the world and I’ve been put in stitches by some of the funniest storytellers you’ll ever hear. The diversity and talent that exists in your local fire department is truly astounding and I spent decades living with these people. The intellectual stimulation alone was enough to make the job great, but the real value was getting the chance to build real friendships with solid people.

Being a firefighter lends itself to forging deep bonds. Melodrama aside, it is largely just the schedule and intimacy of the workplace that builds that. Firefighters often spend more time with each other than their own families, so we know each other in ways others do not. While firehouse socialization is built mostly around cooking, practical jokes, or pointless banter, there is an unspoken depth to it. We knew when someone’s marriage was on the rocks or their mother was sick. We watched each other’s kids from the time they were climbing on the trucks for fun until they were married. We also relied on each other in life and death moments. I knew certain guys just by their shape in a smoke-filled hallway and they knew me the same way. Then, one day, that was gone.

A few months ago I was struggling with the things I spoke of above. Frustration had given way to depression and I knew hopelessness would soon follow. That’s a deep hole to climb out of once you’ve fallen in, so I picked up the phone. I told an old firefighter friend I was having a rough patch and we met for beers. We didn’t talk much about my issues or the fire department. We just checked in and had a few laughs. All I needed was a reminder that I was accountable to someone outside my home. I needed the know that a man I respected would be let down if I didn’t get my head on right. That used to be something I could count on every shift and I’d missed it.

I Should Have Made a Plan

I had no doubt that it was time to move on from the fire department but I had no plan for my future. I just figured I’d just focus on my family and recreation and something worthwhile would reveal itself. I’m not sure why I thought that. All the important things in my life have been built. None of them have fallen into my lap. Thinking that I’d find direction without actively looking for it was pretty naive.

I’ve begun to try on some things. I took the retail job described above. I’ve done a little instructing for my local volunteer fire department. I’ve done some fitness coaching. Writing this essay is part of a mentorship that I’m undergoing. Some of these ventures have proven to be unsatisfying or unsustainable. Some are quite enjoyable and promising. None of them have exactly parted the clouds and handed me my new life’s mission, but they have all been worthwhile. Each plan I pursue either eliminates a possibility or illuminates a promising new one. I still don’t have a complete plan for this phase of life but I do have movement toward one.

This is Nothing New to Me

I never planned to be a firefighter. I stumbled into an Air Force recruiting office at 19, desperate to recover from a failed attempt a college. The Air Force was literally the first open door at the recruiting center. I signed an open general contact and left home two weeks later. I was assigned to firefighter training, even though it was the third choice on my career “wish list”. I obviously found a path that suited me. That was almost 30 years ago.

My successes in life have never been due to my ability to peer into the future and follow a master plan. Instead, my success has come as a result of my ability to persevere through difficultly, identify available opportunities and leverage them. This made me well suited to my profession. Firefighters don’t know when, or what, the next alarm will be. Firefighters deal with emergencies as they find them. They learn not to over-plan, but the good ones do prepare. Good firefighters drill on their equipment and skills so they can deal with the next surprise. In that regard, I’m suited for this. I have made a habit of self-assessment and improvement. I’m adaptable, with solid communication skills and openness to new challenges. Retirement is a challenge I can meet.

I did not think this would be easy. I don’t want easy. I want adventure, and the fact that I was a little unprepared just makes it more interesting. The struggles of retirement remind me that I need to look for the opportunities around me and try them on. I did not set out to become a firefighter but I did set out to improve my life. In the process, I found a calling that shaped my entire life. Retirement must be the same.

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By Justin Green

What I thought it meant to be a good man in my early twenties is drastically different from what I believe now. Experience has a way of rounding the edges of self-righteous standards and teaching you that “goodness” is often found in the grey areas.

What does it mean to be a good man? I’ve asked myself this question constantly since June 12th, 2011. That was the date of my first entry into the first volume of what have become running “self-improvement notebooks” – black leather notebooks into which I’ve put journal entries, workout logs, book quotes, ideas, questions, and personal reminders – a rambling pursuit toward being a better man, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. The first entry was two weeks before I started Infantry Officer’s Course. I was cajoling myself to create better habits to help me survive what was about to be a grueling 13 weeks. “Spend ten minutes every night writing in this thing,” I wrote to myself, “In 20 years you’ll be glad to look back and see how stupid you were.” Poetic for a 23-year-old. I’ve followed my own direction, to some extent, for the past nine-plus years. It definitely hasn’t been every day; I’ve gone months on some occasions without a single entry. But I’ve kept at it. There’s about 10 of these notebooks now sitting stacked in the corner of my home office.

Now, halfway to the twenty-year goal, it’s time to look back at some of the earlier entries to see if this prediction of retrospective stupidity came true, but more importantly, to see if time has changed my perspectives on what it means to be a good man. In most areas, there’s a stark contrast between what I thought at 23 and what I think now.

Me at 23: “Good men take charge of every situation and try to constantly increase their level of responsibility”

Me now (32 years old): I told myself early on that good men were leaders, and that leaders had all the right answers. In my first job as a second lieutenant, this approach led to stifled innovation and a lot of resentment from my subordinates as I tried to solve problems on my own and “create success” through my own efforts. I thought that being in charge meant you always had the right answers. Now, I realize that “good man” and “leader” aren’t always synonyms. I’ve met plenty of leaders that weren’t good men and many good men that have never held a position of influence in their lives. I’ve learned that a good man is happy to play second fiddle to the better ideas of others and that a good man is just as willing to take responsibility for bad outcomes as good ones. Good men have a healthy relationship with success and failure – they realize the only variable they can really control is their own actions. They measure “responsibility” not as a function of the power of their position or how many resources they control, but as the irreducible burden of accountability they place on themselves for doing the right thing at the right time, regardless of the consequences. When good men fail (good men fail often) to hold themselves accountable, when they give in to bitching and complaining that someone else isn’t pulling their weight, good men eventually circle back to looking inward at what they could have done better. But most importantly, I’ve learned that good men overcome the compulsion to control everything. They’re vulnerable and trusting, willing to expose the things they care about – their time, reputation, relationships – to the actions of other people.

Me at 23: “Good men are servants and stewards”

Me now: This is one of the few areas where 23-year-old me wasn’t that far off. I believed then and I still believe that good men are servants in their relationships and stewards of their positions, possessions, and environment. Good men put the needs and desires of their families and close friends before their own. They treat their possessions, their professional position, and the environment as if they will eventually hand them over to someone else. Good men don’t feel entitled to anything.

However, I’ve learned that being a servant and a steward doesn’t give you the moral high road. I used to treat being a “servant” in my relationships or leadership positions as a means to an end, I still struggle with this. “Look how much of a servant/steward I’m being” goes the thought, “you should do X or Y in exchange.” It’s easy to virtue signal how low you’ve intentionally put yourself on the pecking order as a way to increase leverage over others. Good men understand that being a servant doesn’t require recognition or reciprocation.

Stewardship can also be a slippery slope toward indifference to the actions of others around you. Stewardship is an innately introspective and sometimes selfish position because it’s focus is on the nobility of one’s own actions. At its best, stewardship has helped me walk a path of humility. But I have also used stewardship to justify a self-righteous approach to my daily conduct. Good men walk the fine line between being a humble steward and putting their foot down to hold others accountable when required.

Me at 23: “A good man’s highest aim is to earn the respect of those around him”

Me now: I used to think that respect was a type of currency – something you accrued by doing hard things and that could be exchanged between people, quid pro quo. Age has taught me that respect is not a goal, but a starting point, and that respect is best given before it’s earned. Good men act and speak from a default position of respect for those around them, regardless of the individual’s status. Good men treat their employees, a customer service representative, or a server at a restaurant in the same way they treat their boss, parents, or mentors – respect is not a function of what that person can do for you.

But good men also understand that respect for others, like service and stewardship, is not an excuse for indifference. Respect is not conflict avoidance. Respect is not the unquestioning acceptance of everything.

That last part has always been the hardest for me to navigate. As a systems-thinking introvert, it’s very easy for me to find a justifiable reason not to confront someone about something – “there’s probably a very good reason they’re doing what they’re doing, I’ll let them continue out of respect for their perspective.” This isn’t respect, it’s conflict avoidance. Good men respect others enough to challenge their perspectives, knowing that at the very least, they might learn something.

Me at 23: “Good men pursue excellence in everything they do”

Me now: This is great in theory – “anything worth doing is worth doing well” – but it fails the test of time and shifting priorities. I have used this maxim to justify zealous dedication to various pursuits throughout my life. In high school, it was baseball (200-300 balls off a tee every day); more recently, it was SOF selection (two-a-day workouts, eating like a monk, and a mandatory 9-10 hours of sleep a night). I jump in to things with both feet and do very few things casually. I have always taken this as a point of pride.

What I have failed to appreciate was that this zealous dedication demanded significant sacrifices in other, equally important, areas of my life. Relationships, school, and work have all taken the back seat to my priority du jour at some point. But aren’t these sacrifices just the unintended consequences of pursuing greatness in anything? Yes and no.

Good men understand the importance of prioritization. They willingly accept the fact that achievement requires dedication and sacrifice, but they make these decisions intentionally, communicated when possible to those affected by the sacrifices, and done with the understanding that debts in any one area usually have to be repaid by re-balancing the priorities before those debts become permanent. The un-prioritized aspects of a good man’s life are not the unintended casualties of his pursuit of excellence, but willing sacrifices made in furtherance of a goal.

I’ve been an unintended casualty. When I was young, my dad spent 10-11 months of the year traveling for work to give me and my brother the comfortable upbringing he never had. Money was the goal, and my relationship with him was the permanent casualty, unintended as it may have been. My dad was a good man, but good men aren’t perfect.

There are aspects of the “dogged pursuit of excellence” that good men do follow. Good men take pride in doing things well; they ask questions and seek mentors; and they set ambitious goals, but understand that the long game is won minute-to-minute, and often when no one is watching.

Me at 23: “Physical fitness is key to making a good man ready for anything”

Me now: My early notebooks were essentially work-out journals, so it’s easy to see what I prioritized and where this idea came from. Fitness is still at the core of who I am. I still see a good, brutal training session as the cure to most ills, and I still view physical fitness as the gateway to achieving mental, emotional, and spiritual fitness. But age has shown me the gaps created by my heavy prioritization of the physical. My 3-mile run time didn’t help me cope with the death of my father in 2014, and while physical fitness definitely helped me survive combat, it hasn’t helped me deal with what I’ve seen during or as a result of it.

Good men see value in physical fitness. They understand that they cannot be of any service to their family, friends, community, or country unless their own house is in order. But good men also understand that in fitness, like excellence, prioritization is key. They’ll sacrifice a degree of physical fitness to repay debts in other areas, but they invariably return to it because they know it is the cornerstone of resilience. Good men also understand that mental, emotional, and spiritual fitness are critical components of the whole, and that the vulnerability required to strengthen all of them is not weakness, but a checkpoint on the way to resilience.

Me at 32 (today): What it means to be a good man is constantly evolving

It’s easy to belittle my 23-year-old perspective of what it means to be a good man as the self-righteous ramblings of a young, dumb, single kid. But doing so ignores the depth and complexity of the issue because what it means to be a good man evolves over time. A prioritization on respect, excellence, physical fitness, and solving problems made as much sense to me at 23 as my new perspectives do to me now. Sure, some of my perspectives have changed as a result of hard lessons learned (hint: any sentence that begins with “Good men…” usually implies I messed up royally in that area), but just as many perspectives changed due to gradually shifting priorities and significant life events. I’m sure that in ten years I’ll look back on my 32-year-old perspectives with just as many head shakes. Am I a good man? Every day is a struggle, that’s all I can say for sure.

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Military / National Security / Foreign Policy

New enlisted marketplace, promotion board changes arriving, Defense News
The US Military Is About to Launch Its Largest 5G Experiments Yet, Defense One
Military officials blindsided by Trump announcement of early US troop withdrawal from Afghanistan, Military Times
Army’s do-it-all goggles to reach soldiers’ hands in 2021, Defense News
Air Force’s New Fighter Stuffed With Secret Tech, RealClearDefense
Military Pensions: Politics, Policy, and Reform, War on the Rocks
The Army’s M5 Ripsaw Robotic Combat Vehicle Prototype, RealClearDefense

Wildland Fire / Law Enforcement

Award granted to develop system to detect and forecast the spread of all wildland fires in U.S., Wildfire Today
Video: Meet RS3, LA’s firefighting robot, FireRescue1 Daily News
Things they don’t teach you in fire officer school: How to handle performance reviews, FireRescue1 Daily News
Va. lawmakers pass bill to reduce traffic stops, outlaw some marijuana searches, Police1 Daily News
Major Cities Struggling to Hire Police Chiefs, POLICE Magazine
Why secure in-vehicle storage is essential equipment, especially in turbulent times, Police1 Daily News

Mountain

Greetings From The Future of Mountain Biking…, Unofficial Networks
5 Backcountry Huts for Winter Adventures in Colorado, The Outbound Collective
What will winter 20/21 bring for the snow sports industry? SNEWS
How a Ramshackle Mining Town Became a Mountain Paradise, Outside Magazine
American-Scottish team climb a new route on the Emperor Face of Yuh-hai-has-kun (Mt. Robson), Alpinist Newswire
Stranded Japanese Tourist Gets Manchu Picchu All to Himself, The Adventure Blog
Video: Glen Denny, the Golden Age of Yosemite photographer, Planetmountain.com

Fitness / Health / Nutrition

First Confirmed U.S. Cases of COVID Reinfections, WebMD Health
Lessons Learned from Running Across America, Outside Magazine
Ask a Health Coach: How Bad Is It Really? Mark’s Daily Apple
Stopping lethal lung damage from the flu with a natural human protein, Science Daily
Podcast: Maximize Muscularity and Strength; Minimize Risk of Injury, Breaking Muscle
Post-workout Muscle Recovery: How to Let Your Muscles Heal and Why, Everyday Health
The Science of Sleep: Stages and Cycles, Harvard Health

Interesting

‘Love Hormone’ Could Hold Key to Treating COVID, WebMD Health
The Last Ice Merchant of Chimborazo, Adventure Journal
Can fire departments prohibit firefighter off-duty medical marijuana use? FireRescue1 Daily News
Domestic Terrorism and the U.S. Elections, The RAND Blog
The Army Is Working on Augmented Reality Goggles for Military Dogs, Defense One
Second COVID-19 vaccine trial paused over unexplained illness, Stars and Stripes

Military / National Security / Foreign Policy

Top military leadership quarantines after Coast Guard vice commandant tests positive for COVID-19, Air Force Times
US Navy needs to have more than 500 ships by 2045 to have edge against China and Russia, War is Boring
US Army Europe and US Army Africa to merge as commander pins on fourth star, Defense News
Trump: US will be out of Afghanistan by Christmas, Military Times
The Navy needs industry to tackle software-defined networks, data sharing, Defense News
DOD Official Outlines Space Strategy, Defense.gov
Why the Pentagon Should Focus on Taiwan, War on the Rocks

Wildland Fire / Law Enforcement

Where did the term “gigafire” originate, Wildfire Today
How to measure the economic health cost of wildfires – A systematic review of the literature for northern America, International Journey of Wildland Fire
Margins and risk: How firefighters apply margins in fireground decision-making, Fire Rescue1 Daily News
Patterns and trends in simultaneous wildfire activity in the United States from 1984 to 2015, International Journey of Wildland Fire
First responders fear FCC plan could interfere with their ability to control traffic signals, Police1 Daily News
When UI/UX becomes life or death, Fire Rescue1 Daily News
LAPD asking for 2,600 more body cameras to outfit all cops, Police1 Daily News

Mountain

Ultrarunner Amy Sproston is the First Woman to Attempt to Run the Jordan Trail, The Adventure Blog
Desert Riding: How to Prep and What to Expect, Osprey Packs
Do I need Climbing Chalk…? American Alpine Institute
6 Easy Ways to Be a Better Skier, Outside Magazine
Nepal Opens to Climbers and Trekkers Starting October 17, The Adventure Blog
What This Ski Season Will Look Like, Outside Magazine
Why Experts Are Exploring Climbing as a Form of Therapy, Outside Magazine

Fitness / Health / Nutrition

Why Endurance Athletes Feel Less Pain, Outside Magazine
The Link Between Air Pollution and Obesity, Men’s Journal
Drink coffee after breakfast, not before, for better metabolic control, Science Daily
How to Eat Meat and Still Reduce Your Environmental Impact, Mark’s Daily Apple
Can I Train With A Herniated Disc? Breaking Muscle
Shura Kitata Kicks to London Marathon Win, Men’s Health
Whey Protein Isolate, Hydrolysate, and Concentrate: Which Is Best? Mark’s Daily Apple

Interesting

Novel Brain Surgery Seeks to Reverse Epilepsy in Sea Lion, NYT
The Latest (Alarming) New Stat on Global Warming, Men’s Journal
How to Foster Healthy Body Image in Children, Mark’s Daily Apple
Researcher Believe They Know What Caused Mass Elephant Deaths in Botswana, The Adventure Blog
The Joshua Tree Is the First Plant Protected Due to Climate Change, Adventure Journal
Are Humans Great Endurance Runners Because of Our Hunting Past, Or Not? Adventure Journal

By Joe Hogan

Greatness Versus Goodness

Greatness measured by accomplishment and eminence. It is often attained by besting rivals or attaining a degree of fame in a given arena. Great men are known, envied and admired. Great men often become the measuring stick by which others are evaluated. Greatness is something almost all of us desire for ourselves but it is something very few of us obtain.

Goodness is measured in morality and virtue. Goodness is often attained through quiet personal sacrifice that allows others to flourish while the good man remains unnoticed. Good men are often scoffed at or overlooked. Good men are not used as a measurement because the qualities comprising goodness are soft and impossible to quantify. Goodness is not universally desired by society and it is not something most of us typically strive for as fervently as we do greatness. That being said, we all know a good man when we are in the presence of one.

This is not to say that greatness and goodness are mutually exclusive. In my experience, those who score high in one area almost always possess a degree of the other. It’s nearly impossible to sustain the kind of passion required of greatness without also knowing how to love something. It’s equally impossible to fully serve others without a degree of individual excellence.

I don’t know that I’ve ever been great at anything. Above-average? Sure, in more than a few areas I suppose. What matters to me at this point is goodness. I wrestle with the question, “Am I a good man?”

What it Does Not Mean

My life is littered with moments in which I failed to be a good man. For the most part these moments were not born of bad intentions. More often than not they were a product of my conflating goodness with greatness. All too often I attempted to win or overcome in situations where goodness dictated a more passive or cooperative approach. So, before I get to the main point, I’d like to share a few of the traits and habits that have blocked goodness from emerging in me.

Aggressiveness, as a default, is not a mark of goodness. It is selfish and dangerous. Aggressive men seek to dominate others by always taking the “high ground”. Aggressive men leave those around them feeling intimidated and unsure of themselves. I know I’ve stifled valuable contributions from friends and colleges with it. Worse yet, I know I’ve intimidated and stifled my family with it as well. Of course, a good man can and should use appropriate aggression, but aggression by habit kills goodness.

Good men are not contemptuous. Contempt and scorn belittle others and press them below us. Contempt is a way of piling people under our feet so we can climb higher, or at least that is how it feels when we are doing it. But as I age I am coming to realize that the most destructive result of my contempt is that it cut me off from so many people. I wonder how much more goodness I could have brought into my life by spending time listening to and learning from the people I pushed down.

Weakness is never a sign of goodness. Weakness is a lack of resolve. It has little or nothing to do with physical deficits in this context, although many find physical strength to assist them in the spiritual sense. Weak men back away from hardship. They seek the comfortable path. They drop their burdens and make excuses. Of all my regrets in life, my moments of weakness hurt the most.

What it Does Mean?

Good men are flawed. This should come as a relief and sign of hope to us all. Good men are not porcelain saints. They are real human beings who bear scars and warts accumulated over years of struggle. A good man has likely fallen and gotten up more times than he can count and he knows he is likely to fall again. I’ve known good men who were alcoholics. I’ve known good men who’d destroyed their marriages. I’ve known good men who had disgraced their vocation. But they had made peace with their sins and failures by owning them. They did not hide from the pain and disappointment their actions had caused. They allowed themselves to be exposed as broken and guilty, and they drove on. They allowed others to know of and learn from their mistakes and illuminate hope for the rest of.

Good men have empathy. Just as they are flawed, they accept flaws in others without undue judgment. A good man takes no pleasure in the struggles and failures of another because he knows how bad it hurts and how easily he can find himself there again. I once had a grizzled paramedic partner, 20 years my senior. Rick had seen it all, twice, but displayed remarkable compassion, particularly to the addicted and the lonely. He’d survived too many of his own mistakes to hold himself above the people who needed the most mercy. We once spent hours at the hospital, late into the night, because Rick had promised a teenage overdose patient that he’d help her talk to her parents. I didn’t understand why he was “wasting our time” at the moment. It dawned on me later, as my own regrets mounted, but I never took the time to thank him for his example. The first time I mentioned it was in his eulogy.

Good men are loyal. My grandfather was a WWII paratrooper and small-time pro boxer. As his family grew he hung up his gloves and made a career in a union print shop. When his son grew his hair long in the late 60’s many of Gramp’s conservative co-workers began to quip about it. His response was to grow his signature flat top out until his hair was below his collar. When my grandmother related the story to me years later Gramp just chuckled and said, “My son was a good boy and I figured that was the fastest way to shut them up.” He stood by his son, even if it meant going toe to toe with his shop. Good men don’t cut ties when they become inconvenient. Good men know loyalty means climbing in your foxhole with you.

Good men are strong. Good men know strength lies in vulnerability. Just as a brutal session in the gym has to weaken you before you grow, so do trials in life. Good men have stepped into difficulty again and again to build their spirits and souls. Good men show their strength by sharing other’s burdens, by making others’ lives more secure, and by admitting their faults. They have built the spiritual muscle to lift others up, knowing that it is harder than pushing others down.

Good men introduce you to your own goodness. This may be the quality above all others that defines a good man. We’re all going to die, sooner than we want to think about. Some who have achieved greatness will be remembered for a while. Some great men may even have things named in their honor but most of us will be remembered by only a few. Even among those who remember us, our legacy fades. For example, who among us can readily name all eight of their great grandparents? What lives on is the goodness we bring out in others. My father had a habit of gifting the children he knew with an ordinary pocket knife. In doing so he was signifying that they were trustworthy and competent. He had a solemn way of doing so that made a boy feel as if he were a knight bestowed with a mighty sword. The knives held no inscription or specific instructions. They were simply a sign that he believed in you. Those are the ripples we send out into the world. They don’t carry our name or our image because our goodness is not ours at all. We don’t create it and we don’t own it. Goodness is something that we accept and pass on humbly.

Am I a Good Man?

I lost a beautiful wife to cancer days after our daughter had turned 13. In the aftermath I stumbled about, trying to rebuild our lives and entered into a hasty marriage. I had not even begun to come to grips with my loss and had no idea how to assist my teenage daughter through hers. My young adult son was completely on his own. Bringing a new spouse into the situation was unfair to everyone and ended disastrously. We were divorced in less than a year, and then I began my real free fall. All the structures I had used to uphold my own goodness had dissolved. My wife was gone, my religion had lapsed and my outlook had become deeply cynical. I provided a nice home and a private education to my daughter but was emotionally absent. I had lost myself and had forsaken my most sacred duty. I eventually found some stability and a loving relationship with a good woman, but those years are gone forever.

I share this to demonstrate how a  man can come to terms with his own ugliness. I will never be able to fill the gap I left in my children’s lives or restore my personal reputation, but I’ve made peace with that. I am an imperfect man, now married to an imperfect woman and we’re the proud parents of four imperfect children. We hold no illusions that any of us will lead storybook lives but we strive to show that the path to redemption is always open. I try to be open about my past. I try to judge others gently. I try to hold my own burdens and lighten the burdens of others. I’m not ready to say, “Yes, I am a good man.” but I know I am capable of goodness. In the end, all we can do is pass that goodness along anyway. It was never ours to begin with.