Ambition

Vice or virtue? As William Casey King documents in Ambition, A History (2013), desire to rise above one’s birth in status, wealth, or renown used to be almost universally condemned. Those who tried to ascend too high must fall, like Icarus in Greek myth or the builders of the Tower of Babel. Blending the sins of pride, greed, and envy, hunger for power drove Shakespeare’s Macbeth to destruction; hunger for knowledge did the same to Marlow’s Doctor Faustus. Though God might reward a man for virtue, to climb by personal effort was a threat to social order. It could lead to rebellion.

King traces the beginning of change to European colonization of the Americas, when Spanish and English monarchs offered hereditary titles to leaders who organized settlements. An unintended consequence was to loosen the bond between status and bloodline. By 1776 a king’s right to rule was no longer sacrosanct. All men were created equal. And under certain circumstances, rebellion was justified.

King’s account ends there. It made me ponder attitudes here and now. The American dream glories in self-made men and tales of rags to riches. To rise above one’s origins fits ideals of individualism and social mobility. On the other hand, some decry ambition in politicians they dislike, “pushy” women, “uppity” minorities, or erstwhile friends who cut ties with their former peers. Uncritical acclaim for ambition fosters hubris and irresponsibility. The end justifies the means only if the end is to increase one’s capacity to benefit a larger whole, and if the means is respectful of the rights and aspirations of others.

Image: Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, c. 1558, attributed to Pieter Brueghel. Wearing wings of wax and feathers, Icarus flew too near the sun. The wax melted, and Icarus plunged into the sea (lower right).