The Compassionate Instinct

Historically, heroism has been most closely associated with military service; however, social heroism also deserves close examination. While Achilles is held up as the archetypal war hero, Socrates’ willingness to die for his values was also a heroic deed. Heroism in service to a noble idea is usually not as dramatic as heroism that involves immediate physical peril. Yet social heroism is costly in its own way, often involving loss of financial stability, lowered social status, loss of credibility, arrest, torture, risks to family members, and, in some cases, death.

These different ways of engaging with the heroic ideal suggest a deeper, more intricate definition of heroism. Based on our own analysis of many acts that we deem heroic, we believe that heroism is made up of at least four independent dimensions.

First, heroism involves some type of quest, which may range from the preservation of life (Frank De Martini’s efforts at the World Trade Center) to the preservation of an ideal (Martin Luther King Jr.’s pursuit of equal rights for African-Americans).

Second, heroism must have some form of actual or anticipated sacrifice or risk. This can be either some form of physical peril or a profound social sacrifice. The physical risks that firefighters take in the line of duty are clearly heroic in nature. Social sacrifices are more subtle. For example, in 2002, Tom Cahill, a researcher at the University of California, Davis, risked his credibility as a career scientist by calling a press conference to openly challenge the EPA’s findings that the air near ground zero was safe to breathe in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks. His willingness to “go public” was challenged by the government and by some fellow scientists. Like Cahill, whistleblowers in government and business often face ostracism, physical threat, and the loss of their jobs.

Third, the heroic act can either be passive or active. We often think of heroics as a valiant activity, something that is clearly observable. But some forms of heroism involve passive resistance or an unwillingness to be moved. Consider Revolutionary War officer Nathan Hale’s actions before his execution by the British army. There was nothing to be done in that moment except to decide how he submitted to death—with fortitude or with fear. The words he uttered in his final moments (borrowed from Joseph Addison’s play Cato), “I regret that I have but one life to give for my country,” are remembered more than two centuries later as a symbol of strength.

Finally, heroism can be a sudden, one-time act or something that persists over a longer period of time. This could mean that heroism may be an almost instantaneous reaction to a situation, such as when a self-described “average guy” named Dale Sayler pulled an unconscious driver from a vehicle about to be hit by an oncoming train. Alternatively, it may be a well-thought-out series of actions taking place over days, months, or a lifetime. For instance, in 1940, a Japanese consul official in Lithuania, Chiune Sugihara, signed more than 2,000 visas for Jews hoping to escape the Nazi invasion, despite his government’s direct orders not to do so. Every morning when Sugihara got up and made the same decision to help, every time he signed a visa, he acted heroically and increased the likelihood of dire consequences for himself and his family. At the end of the war, he was unceremoniously fired from the Japanese civil service.

WHAT MAKES A HERO?

Our efforts to catalog and categorize heroic activity have led us to explore the factors that come together to create heroes. It must be emphasized that this is initial, exploratory work; at best, it allows us to propose a few speculations that warrant further investigation.