Much ink has been spilled about the Seven Deadly Sins. Certainly everyone has considered Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, Lust, and Envy. They come from Christian theology, but the concept of a “cardinal sin” is too compelling to ignore, as its memetic success has proven over the last 1700 years. Written here, they proclaim, are the eternal forms of immorality: the seven most important lessons a good person needs to learn.

It’s strange how The Sins have persisted through time. In 1987, Gorden Gecko unironically stated that “greed is good.” It was a movie, but it resonated deeply with supposedly Christian America. It seems that modern economic theory models the rational human being as greedy and profit maximizing. We’ve built an empire on indulging greed, and it seems obvious that this is a poor foundation.

Of the sins, Pride is the one that most eludes me, and I suspect this is because it is the one that most defines me. Pride is similarly warped in our modern world. People are encouraged to be proud of their nation, of their heritage, of their sexual identity, and of their accomplishments.

Strictly, sinful pride is about aggrandizing yourself over God; being proud of your accomplishments does not send you to hell. However, I’m an atheist appropriating Christian theological concepts and that seems too shallow for me.

My experience of Pride is that I can be excessively judgy. I have a strong sense of how people should act, and I criticize others against that standard. And most crucially, I am harshest to myself. My inner voice can be a merciless taskmaster, a bully that I find myself agreeing with. And to quiet the bully, I do what it says. I flee from my shame.

The hardest part about Pride is that it can serve you. I have done much to chase the feeling of being proud of myself. I cultivate strong opinions about what deserves respect in the world, and I chase that image. It’s a powerful way to grow oneself.

What’s wrong with this? Should we not strive to achieve our potential and be more moral? Surely the harnessing of vanity has produced some of the greatest leaders, athletes, artists, and intellects. What’s wrong with raising our standards?

The hitch is that for many reasons, not everyone will meet up to your standard.

There is the matter of privilege: diligence cannot always compensate for social class. However, the compassionate achiever will judge people according to their circumstance, so this is less of an issue.

No, I’m convinced it’s hard to get everyone to agree on what deserves honor in the first place. We continuously refine our definition of an honorable person, but we don’t always have the same perspective. In fact, endlessly refining your idea of “worthiness” is the surest way to exclude everyone but yourself.

And here at the bottom is the question: can you bring one vessel unto honor without bringing another unto dishonor? Is Pride exclusionary? We reward the honorable, does that necessarily mean we dispense with the dishonorable?

I think the truly honorable society is one that brings everyone along for the ride.