Most Men Are Only “Good” Because They Have No Other Choice
Got it! I'll refine the blog to keep the bold and sarcastic tone while removing any unnecessarily inflammatory elements. The focus will remain on how morality is untested until real temptation arises, using real-world examples of power, greed, and moral dilemmas.
I'll structure it in a way that makes the reader uncomfortable (in a thought-provoking way) while keeping it engaging and witty. Stay tuned!
The Untested “Goodness” of Men: Heroes Until Proven Otherwise
Not all men are good – some just haven’t had the chance to be bad yet. Bold claim? Sure. But think about it: how many “good guys” out there have simply never faced real temptation or wielded any true power? It’s easy to be virtuous when life hasn’t dangled forbidden fruit or absolute power in front of you. Morality is a comfortable theory until it’s put to the test. And oh, when that test comes, the results can be downright ironic.
Morality Unchallenged: Saints by Circumstance
So you’ve never lied, cheated, stolen, or abused power? Congratulations – or rather, convenient for you! It might just mean you’ve never been in a situation where lying would save your hide, cheating would fatten your wallet, or a position where your yes-men would laugh at all your jokes (even the bad ones). As Lord Acton famously put it, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely” (Lord Acton Quote Archive | Acton Institute). In other words, great men are often bad men precisely because power lets them be. When nothing and no one is there to hold you accountable, your halo might slip a bit.
Consider the ancient thought experiment of Plato’s Ring of Gyges – a magical ring granting invisibility (the OG version of Internet anonymity). With no one able to see or judge him, the once-humble shepherd Gyges seduced the queen, murdered the king, and took over the kingdom (Lessons from Plato and the Ring of Gyges - Markkula Center for Applied Ethics). The story suggests that the only thing keeping most of us “just” is the fear of getting caught or judged. Give us invisibility (or immunity, or unchecked power) and our halo might morph into horns real quick. In everyday terms: character is what you are in the dark. If you’ve never been in the dark, can you be so sure you’re full of light?
Let’s be real – it’s easy to proclaim “I’d never take a bribe” when no one’s offering you a suitcase of cash. It’s easy to say “I’d never abuse power” when you have none. Untested morality is like an untested muscle: you think it’s strong, but you won’t know until you actually have to lift something heavy. Plenty of men walk around imagining they’d hold firm in the face of temptation. Yet history and social science suggest many so-called good guys are one slippery opportunity away from face-planting off their high horse.
When Power Calls, Does Morality Walk? (History and Politics Edition)
History provides endless examples of upstanding men turning into, well, something else once power or crisis found them. The transition from liberator to tyrant is practically a cliché. Revolutionaries who fought for freedom often became the new oppressors once they toppled the old regime. Remember Maximilien Robespierre? Nicknamed “The Incorruptible” for his virtuous stance during the early French Revolution, he eventually presided over the Reign of Terror, sending former friends to the guillotine in the name of purity. So much for incorruptible. It seems “principled until in power” should be a warning label on a lot of heroes.
Then there’s the common political tale of the reformer-turned-rogue. The idealistic politician who campaigns as a selfless hero, promising to clean up corruption, serve the people, kiss babies, you name it. Fast forward a few years, and he’s the one dodging corruption investigations or clinging to power like it’s the last life vest on a sinking ship. It’s almost funny – many men truly believe they’d be the one honest man in a den of thieves. Yet drop that “honest” man into the den and often he either comes slinking out with his integrity in shreds, or stays in the den and starts looking suspiciously like a thief himself. Power has a way of poking holes in our moral certainties.
Even revered leaders have faced this test. George Washington is celebrated for relinquishing power willingly – a true rarity that earned him hero status precisely because so many others in his boots would have crowned themselves king. On the flip side, take an emperor like Napoleon Bonaparte: he rose as a revolutionary hero of the people, then literally crowned himself Emperor, ending the very republic he purported to serve. The difference between hero and villain often isn’t about who they were to start with, but the choices made when power or temptation came knocking. As one quip goes, “Anyone can deal with adversity – if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” How many would pass that test?
Business Ethics (Or “Nice Guys” Finish First... Until They Don’t)
In the business world, we find similar irony. The mild-mannered coworker who wouldn’t hurt a fly? Give him a promotion and a corner office, and suddenly he’s channeling his inner Darth Vader at the Monday meeting. Who knew Bob from accounting had it in him to start barking orders and taking credit for everyone’s work? It’s not that power made him a jerk; power just revealed the jerk that was dormant. Many men in corporate life are “good” as long as they’re low on the totem pole. With great power comes... great temptation to act like a tyrant, apparently.
Greed can be awfully tempting. Many “ethical” people might behave differently with a pile of gold in front of them.
Think about corporate scandals where regular employees and respected executives alike fudged the numbers or condoned shady practices once the pressure (or opportunity) hit. Consider the infamous Volkswagen emissions scandal: plenty of engineers and managers — ordinary folks you might trust to watch your dog — collectively cheated environmental regulations for years. Why? Possibly because everyone else was doing it, or the boss demanded results. When the opportunity (or coercion) arose, a lot of “good guys” went along with doing bad. Their morality wasn’t so rigid after all when jobs and profits were at stake.
Academic experiments back this up. In one study, students given a test and left unsupervised absolutely cheated — reporting 50% more correct answers than students who were monitored (Ariely dishonesty | Duke's Fuqua School of Business). Shocking? Or just human nature? These weren’t “bad” kids; they were normal until an easy chance to cheat appeared. Likewise, plenty of upstanding businessmen have found themselves justifying little lies or big frauds when money’s on the line. It’s amazing the ethical gray areas you can rationalize when a bonus or stock option glimmers on the horizon.
Even at the small-business level, you’ll find the friendly neighborhood shop owner who evades taxes or underpays staff because it’s easy and unlikely to be caught. Moral convictions can melt faster than an ice cream in July when temptation turns up the heat. Sure, there are inspiring exceptions – leaders who do the right thing at cost to themselves – but they’re celebrated precisely because they could have done wrong and chose not to. Most of the time, we only find out who’s who after the fact. Until then, everyone’s a “good guy.”
Social Experiments: The Dark Side in (Nearly) All of Us
Perhaps you’re thinking, “Nah, I’m different. I’d never sink to those depths.” It’s comforting to believe that. But psychology suggests otherwise, in delightfully unsettling ways. Classic experiments have repeatedly shown how ordinary people can do awful things under certain conditions – not necessarily because they’re closet monsters, but because situational forces are insanely powerful.
Take the Stanford Prison Experiment. A bunch of college guys were split into “guards” and “prisoners” in a mock prison setup. Within six days, the “guards” (just regular students given a bit of authority and cool aviator shades) turned sadistic, abusing their prisoner-peers, and the “prisoners” became cowed and distressed (Stanford Prison Experiment: Zimbardo's Famous Study). The experiment, planned for two weeks, had to be shut down early because things got way too real. These were normal, “good” young men – until they donned a uniform and were told they were in charge. Then out came behaviors that would put a villain to shame. As one summary put it, good people aren’t enough to prevent evil; the situation often calls the shots.
Likewise, Milgram’s obedience experiments had average folks believing they were administering painful electric shocks to an innocent person. A disturbing number kept pressing the shock button when instructed by an authority figure, even as the (actor) victim screamed. They weren’t evil sadists by nature; yet under pressure, they harmed someone. If you asked them a day before, “Would you ever torture a stranger?” they’d likely say absolutely not – and genuinely mean it. But give them the right (or wrong) scenario, and morality folds like a cheap suit.
The bystander effect is another gem: plenty of otherwise decent men and women will stand by and do nothing in an emergency if others aren’t intervening. It’s not flattering, but it’s true. We all like to assume we’d be the one to rush into the burning building to save a stranger. Yet time and again, people watch crises unfold like it’s a Netflix show, convincing themselves someone else will step up or that maybe it’s not their business. Untested heroism often wilts in the face of real danger or inconvenience. So the next time you catch yourself thinking, “I’d never be like those people who just stood by,” pause and remember that most of “those people” once thought the exact same thing.
The Hero in Our Heads vs. Reality
Ah, modern men and our heroic daydreams. So many of us stroll through life secretly casting ourselves as the dashing hero of every scenario. We’re convinced that, if push came to shove, we’d do the right thing, the hard thing. Stand up to the bully. Defend the helpless. Say no to the lucrative but immoral deal. In our heads, we’re the white knight, the Captain America, the one good man when all others falter. It’s a nice image – looking in the mirror and seeing a hero’s silhouette over your shoulder.
Many men see themselves as the hero in their own story – at least until real life tests that narrative.
But reality loves to yank the cape off our backs. Real heroism requires sacrifice or risk, often with no guarantee of reward. It’s doing the right thing when it could cost you dearly. And that, my friends, is where a lot of our imagined courage evaporates. It’s all well and good to fantasize about tackling an armed robber at the bank – until you’re cowering behind a counter with your heart in your throat. Plenty of guys talk a big hero game and genuinely believe it, but when faced with actual stakes, they freeze or flee or rationalize inaction. The difference between thinking we’d be the hero and actually being one is as vast as the gap between liking the idea of morality and living it when it hurts.
Modern men often assume they’d be the exception. “If I were in Nazi Germany, I’d surely resist!” “If I were on the Titanic, I’d definitely give up my spot for others!” “I’d never tolerate injustice at my workplace; I’d speak out!” It’s easy to believe that from the comfort of a safe, ordinary life. Yet history and psychology tell us most people, including men brimming with good intentions, do not rise to saintliness when fear, peer pressure, or self-interest come into play. Many would be surprised (and not in a good way) at what they’d do – or not do – when their livelihood, reputation, or life is on the line.
Ever had that moment where you failed a small moral test and later thought, “Why didn’t I do the right thing? That’s not who I am!” Maybe you stayed silent while a friend made a nasty joke, because speaking up was awkward. Or you looked the other way at work when you saw something sketchy, because rocking the boat might cost you. We’ve all been there. If we falter in these minor battles, what makes us so sure we’d be valiant knights in truly high-stakes wars? It’s a humbling thought. Perhaps many of us are “heroes” only in scenarios that conveniently never happen.
The irony is thick: In an age where every other guy has a social media profile quoting some Stoic or superhero about justice and honor, actual acts of extraordinary moral courage remain rare. Everyone likes to imagine they’d be the upstander, but being one in practice often means standing alone, suffering, or losing something precious. As the saying goes, “Everybody wants to be a hero, but nobody wants to die.” We could add: nobody wants to get fired, or ostracized, or even mildly inconvenienced. So the next time a modern man assumes he’s the righteous hero of the story, he might want to check if he’s even passed the side-quests of integrity that life has thrown at him so far.
Conclusion: Good by Default, or Good by Choice?
It’s comforting to think of ourselves as good people. And certainly, plenty of men are genuinely good – proven through trial by fire. But many others carry an untested moral credit score. Are you good because you’ve chosen to be, come hell or high water? Or are you “good” simply because life hasn’t yet tempted you with the hell or the high water? It’s a question worth asking, even if the answer makes us uncomfortable.
The goal here isn’t to dunk on men or declare that secretly all guys are villains waiting to happen. Rather, it’s to highlight the irony in how we (yes, we) think about our own virtue. We love to judge historical figures or public villains and say, “I’d never do that.” Well, given the exact same pressures and temptations, maybe we would. Or maybe we wouldn’t – but we don’t actually know until we’re in the hot seat. Our morality isn’t on solid ground until it’s been tested on rocky terrain.
So, how about a slice of humble pie? Instead of assuming we’re the hero by default, we could work on proving our goodness in the small daily choices: being honest when it’s easier to lie, fair when it’s easier to exploit, brave when it’s easier to stay safe. These things build the moral muscle we’ll need when a bigger test comes. And if that big moment never comes, at least we weren’t just “good” by absence of opportunity. We’d be good by active choice.
In the end, a man’s true character is revealed by what he does when he can do wrong without consequence. It’s in those moments – when nobody’s watching, when we have power over others, when we could get away with it – that the real heroism (or villainy) shows up. Until you’ve faced that, wear your self-awarded hero badge with caution. By all means, strive to be the good guy – the world certainly needs more of them. Just remember: being a hero in theory is easy. It’s being a hero in practice, when it really counts, that separates the men of character from the boys of fantasy.
So here’s a thought-provoking dare for all of us “good men”: next time life offers you a shortcut to be bad (and keep it secret), decline it. Do the right thing especially when it costs you. That’s how you’ll know you’re actually as good as you think – when your morality survives contact with temptation. Until then, maybe ease up on the certainty that you’d always be the hero. After all, untested halos have a habit of tarnishing when worn into battle.
