We don't need another hero

The professor of an online class I took in grad school kicked off the first week's discussion by asking a simple question: “What is art?” A lively and somewhat contentious flurry of text messages ensued.

For the most part, the class believed that art is the production of music, painting, writing, acting and all of the other forms that we traditionally think of as art. To engage in these acts, the consensus went, was to create art.

I was of the minority, a group that included the professor and perhaps one other student, who had certain expectations of what was being created before we would call it art. To say that someone blowing into a trumpet for the first time is creating art, I insisted, was a slap in the face to the works of Miles Davis. Art requires dedication, proficiency, and perhaps even suffering. It requires expression and transcendence, not just mechanical manipulation. To say otherwise is to put Picasso on the same level with Thomas Kinkade - Painter of Light. Nobody wants that.

We held fast to our ideals, we idealists, and although I still think we were correct, had the proceeding been a judged debate we would have lost. The reason the majority ruled on this issue is that they were able to provide a definition of art ( essentially anything that resembles art) while the minority opinion was limited to old “I know it when I see it” * bromide. This is hardly the type of Socratic reasoning that wins one a laurel crown.

I thought of this after reading the comments on last week’s post where I questioned the heroism of public works employees during the aftermath recent tornadoes.

(As an aside, let me say that this blog gets some of the most intelligent commenters in the entire blogosphere. There may be only five or six of them, but what they lack in number, they more than make up for in IQ. I know many bloggers who have to suffer illiterate insults from dolts who seem to be only distantly familiar with the concept of logic. Here at BFS, on the other hand, we are treated to the opinions of insightful and often witty commenters who express themselves clearly and pay the proper respect to the rules of the written language. And they tolerate my sometimes insufferable ramblings. I know I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate your input in my little venture.)

Back to heroism. If you don’t follow the comments (you should), it was generally agreed upon that while the linemen and road crews put forth a praise-worthy performance under trying conditions, they were also just doing their jobs as they agreed to do, AND, were compensated handsomely for it.

Yet there are citizens who would disagree with our impassive assessment. Those people who trembled in the dark, fearful that a freezer-full of beef was in peril as its body temperature slowly dropped, would likely have no problem hailing the public workers as heroes.

All of which leads me to conclude that heroism, like art, is clearly in the eye of the beholder. Yes there are those cases when someone will run into a burning house and rescue a baby, there’s little debate to be had there. But more common are instances when someone does a good deed that just happens to have a profound emotional impact on the beneficiary of that act. For instance, when a police officer assists a stranded motorist or the number eight hitter in the lineup hits a walk-off homerun. Heroes? Not to me, unless I was the one stranded or I had a large chunk of money riding on the game.

While identifying heroism is often a subjective matter, it’s clear that it is something that almost everyone aspires to, at least in their fantasies. Who among us hasn’t daydreamed of freeing the damsel tied to the railroad tracks split seconds before the speeding locomotive passes by? Who hasn’t envisioned themselves bravely disarming the dastardly assassin just as he raised his revolver towards the much-beloved leader? And who hasn’t, while deep in reverie, rode in on a white horse and rescued Angelina Jolie from the evil paparazzi, earning her eternal favor and inadvertently trampling Brad Pitt during the getaway? **

We all aspire to true acts of heroism, but seldom are we offered the opportunity. And if we are, we might not be up to the challenge. Which may not be a bad thing.

This week’s assignment, dear commenters, is to contemplate the following scenario and explain how you would react (or at least, how you would like to react.) This applies mainly to parents, but anybody who has people who depend on them can play along.

You’re standing in line inside of McDonald’s. A young punk enters and begins yelling at the girl behind the counter. It quickly becomes clear that he is a boyfriend spurned and that he is there with bad intentions. He produces a weapon and brandishes it at the girl.

Now, were this a daydream, you would deliver a karate chop to his shoulder, an uppercut to his solar plexus, and then calmly step over his unconscious body to place your order. But this is reality. If you intercede too forcefully, the punk may decide to use his first bullet to dispatch with you.

So this is the question: Is it heroic (or smart, or responsible) to risk your life in this scenario? Is the call to save a complete stranger more noble than providing for your own safety and sparing your children the heartbreak of losing a parent?***

Discuss.

*This is the same type of insufficient reasoning that upends many people’s arguments as to what is a “sport” and what isn’t. They want to say that football is and figure skating isn’t, but their determinations aren’t based on set criteria, just personal preference.

**Feel free to reverse the Brangelina roles in this vignette to suit your preferences.

***I realize that my little “What would you do?” scenario is flawed. No one who is put in that situation would contemplate the potential repercussions in that manner. You would simply react, either in defense of the burger clerk or your own hide.