Paul Westhaver
I write to address a troubling decline in male participation in Catholic life, observing profound angst among young adult men, even within the Church, as they search for meaning in a world where language obscures truth. Men, less adept with words and disconnected from their roles as protectors, fall prey to ideologies that cripple their minds through social engineering.
In today’s morally complex world, the ideal of a courageous, virtuous man endures, not as a flawless hero, but as a flawed individual who confronts his capacity for chaos and violence, choosing virtuous restraint. Ancient and 19th-century literature, Carl Jung’s shadow concept, modern Western narratives, and Catholic thinkers like René Girard and G.K. Chesterton show men must acknowledge their inner monster and channel it toward good through virtue. Jordan Peterson’s framework urges men to harness their destructive potential while embracing responsibility. A competent, dangerous man, humbled before God, is uniquely equipped to confront evil, embodying fierce yet virtuous masculinity rooted in Jesus’ sacrifice and the Holy Spirit’s guidance.
Jung’s shadow, the repressed darker instincts of the psyche, holds violent tendencies men often grapple with. Self-awareness, Jung argues, is essential for psychological wholeness (Jung, 1964). Socialized to embody strength, men risk havoc if these impulses go unchecked, but courage and temperance can fuel heroic action. Ancient literature abounds with examples: Homer’s Iliad shows Achilles redirecting his rage to avenge Patroclus, a testament to controlled ferocity (Homer, 1990). Beowulf channels his violent potential to protect his community, risking himself for the greater good (Heaney, 2000). In the 19th century, Nietzsche’s higher man masters base instincts through self-discipline (Nietzsche, 1883-1885). Melville’s Moby-Dick contrasts Ahab’s ruinous obsession with Ishmael’s reflective survival, while Hugo’s Jean Valjean transforms from criminal to compassionate figure through moral restraint (Melville, 1851; Hugo, 1862). These flawed heroes reveal courage stems from confronting inner chaos to act virtuously.
Modern men face a paradox: society vilifies traditional masculinity as toxic while demanding competence and stoicism, amplifying the shadow’s influence and leaving men struggling to reconcile strength with virtue. In Canada, where cultural narratives prize humility and community, this tension is acute. Jordan Peterson argues men must embrace their capacity for aggression and dominance but discipline it through responsibility. In 12 Rules for Life, he states, “A harmless man is not a good man. A good man is a very dangerous man who has that under voluntary control” (Peterson, 2018). This echoes Jung’s call for shadow integration. Modern Western literature reflects this struggle: Yann Martel’s Pi Patel survives a shipwreck by blending resilience with faith, restraining primal instincts (Martel, 2001); Cormac McCarthy’s father in The Road tempers fierce protectiveness with love (McCarthy, 2006); Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club shows the narrator seeking redemption from his unleashed shadow (Palahniuk, 1996); Hemingway’s Santiago endures against the marlin, harnessing inner strength (Hemingway, 1952); and J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter chooses sacrifice over power (Rowling, 1997-2007). These stories affirm flawed men can channel dangerous potential into virtuous action.
Catholic thinkers provide a spiritual lens. René Girard’s theory of mimetic desire explains conflict as arising from imitated desires, often leading to violence, which a virtuous man restrains through humility and submission to God (Girard, 1978). G.K. Chesterton, in Orthodoxy, argues Christianity balances humility with courage, noting true bravery risks oneself for a higher purpose, as Christ did (Chesterton, 1908). Augustine’s City of God emphasizes virtues purified by grace to overcome sin (Augustine, 426). Thomas Aquinas defines courage as enduring fear to act justly, rooted in faith (Aquinas, 1265-1274). The Catechism of the Catholic Church underscores that virtues, elevated by grace, enable men to confront evil with resolve (Catholic Church, 1994). A competent, dangerous man, guided by Jesus’ suffering and the Holy Spirit, becomes a force for good, humbly serving at the feet of the divine master, as Fulton Sheen might say.
Peterson’s influence, especially in Canada, resonates with men alienated by a culture dismissive of their struggles. Building on Jung, he emphasizes confronting the shadow to achieve individuation, a whole, responsible self. In Maps of Meaning, he explores mythological archetypes, suggesting heroes like St. George slay chaos by integrating their own turmoil (Peterson, 1999). His call to stand up straight with your shoulders back is a metaphor for facing challenges with courage and responsibility, offering men a path to reconcile their dangerous potential with societal expectations. By embracing virtues like duty and truth, men transform their shadow into a protective force, resisting chaos while safeguarding their communities.
The virtuous man balances humility with ego assertion, a dynamic often misunderstood. Catholic thought extols humility as a cardinal virtue, recognizing dependence on God’s grace, yet excessive humility can lapse into passivity, failing those who depend on decisive action. Chesterton argues true humility fuels courage, enabling men to risk themselves without seeking glory (Chesterton, 1908). In Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, Father Zosima’s humility, while compassionate, can seem ineffectual against real-world injustice, suggesting the need for assertiveness (Dostoevsky, 1880). Conversely, ego assertion, taking charge and acting decisively, can be mistaken for pride but is vital for leadership and protection. In Life of Pi, Pi’s survival blends humility with assertive decision-making (Martel, 2001). The father in The Road acts with fierce resolve to protect his son, driven by responsibility (McCarthy, 2006). In Les Misérables, the Bishop of Digne’s humility inspires, but Valjean’s assertive transformation drives redemption (Hugo, 1862). The Gospel’s parable of the talents critiques excessive humility, urging men to act boldly with their gifts (Matthew 25:14–30).
The truly virtuous man navigates this balance, submitting to God while acting decisively when needed. Aquinas and Chesterton affirm courage and justice, rooted in faith, often require ego assertion for a higher cause. Ancient heroes like Achilles, 19th-century figures like Valjean, and modern protagonists like Pi show flawed men can achieve profound good by harnessing their potential for chaos through virtue. In Canada, where cultural pressures suppress assertiveness, Peterson’s insights and narratives like Life of Pi offer hope. By cultivating prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance, and seeking divine grace, men transform their monstrous potential into a fierce force for good, opposing evil in a profane world.
Roger Bacon, a Franciscan friar, wrote in his Opus Majus around 1267, identifying four obstacles to truth: submission to faulty authority, the influence of custom, popular prejudice, and the concealment of ignorance masked by displays of knowledge. He deemed the last the most dangerous, as it allows men to suppress truth for the sake of pride (Bacon, ~1267). This critique resonates today, as self-proclaimed authorities manipulate language and norms, obscuring the path to virtuous masculinity.
The courageous, virtuous man, flawed yet resolute, wrestles with his shadow and emerges stronger through virtue. Ancient and modern literature, Jungian psychology, Peterson’s insights, and Catholic theology illuminate a path for men to embrace their dangerous potential while submitting to God. Guided by Jesus’ sacrifice and the Holy Spirit, men can become competent, dangerous, and profoundly virtuous, standing as beacons of hope in a world desperate for their fierce resolve to uphold beauty, truth, and goodness.
Citations
1. Homer. (1990). The Iliad. Translated by Robert Fagles. Penguin Classics.
2. Heaney, Seamus (trans.). (2000). Beowulf. W.W. Norton & Company.
3. Nietzsche, Friedrich. (1883-1885). Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Translated by Walter Kaufmann. Penguin Books, 1978.
4. Melville, Herman. (1851). Moby-Dick. Penguin Classics, 2003.
5. Hugo, Victor. (1862). Les Misérables. Translated by Norman Denny. Penguin Classics, 1982.
6. Martel, Yann. (2001). Life of Pi. Knopf Canada.
7. McCarthy, Cormac. (2006). The Road. Knopf.
8. Palahniuk, Chuck. (1996). Fight Club. W.W. Norton & Company.
9. Hemingway, Ernest. (1952). The Old Man and the Sea. Scribner.
10. Rowling, J.K. (1997-2007). Harry Potter series. Scholastic.
11. Girard, René. (1978). Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World. Translated by Stephen Bann and Michael Metteer. Stanford University Press.
12. Chesterton, G.K. (1908). Orthodoxy. Ignatius Press, 1995.
13. Augustine. (426). City of God. Translated by Henry Bettenson. Penguin Classics, 2003.
14. Aquinas, Thomas. (1265-1274). Summa Theologica. Translated by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. Christian Classics, 1981.
15. Catholic Church. (1994). Catechism of the Catholic Church. Libreria Editrice Vaticana.
16. Peterson, Jordan B. (2018). 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos. Random House Canada.
17. Peterson, Jordan B. (1999). Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief. Routledge.
18. Dostoevsky, Fyodor. (1880). The Brothers Karamazov. Translated by Constance Garnett. Penguin Classics, 2003.
19. Bacon, Roger. (~1267). Opus Majus. Translated by Robert Belle Burke. University of Pennsylvania Press, 1928.