The human ego is a master of disguise. We many times walk through life with a curated image of ourselves, a moral resume that lists our honesty, our restraint, and our refusal to engage in the “vices” that plague others. We look at the excesses of the wealthy or the corruption of the powerful and feel a sense of quiet moral superiority. We tell ourselves, “I would never do that.” But I want to put to you, whether you are aware or not, that a serious question lingers beneath the surface of our self-assurance: Is our integrity a product of our character, or is it just a byproduct of our circumstances?
For the purpose of this article, I would like to call this the phenomenon of the Circumstantial Saint. And it is a state of being where “sin” is avoided not out of a deep-seated moral conviction, but because the “sin” in question is currently unaffordable, inaccessible, or socially impossible. When the constraints of poverty or limited opportunity are removed, we often times find that the “holiness” we once claimed was never inherent; it was just simply an economic necessity.
The Image of Forced Virtue
For many, the path of righteousness is the only path they can afford to walk, because resources are scarce, and so their world of temptation shrinks. You can not be a glutton on a starving wage; you can not be a reckless spender when every penny is accounted for; you can not easily engage in certain high-stakes deceptions when you lack the social capital to pull them off.
In this state, abstinence can look like discipline, and simplicity can look like humility, but true virtue requires a choice. If you are forced into a behaviour by your environment, you are not necessarily being good; you are just being compliant.
Psychologically, this is often linked to moral licensing. When we are under pressure, we tend to view our survival-based choices as moral victories. We tell ourselves we do not gamble because we value stewardship, when the reality is we simply can not afford to lose money we do not have. And some of us claim to be humble because we live in a modest home, ignoring the fact that we might move into a mansion tomorrow if the opportunity arose. And please do not get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with getting the best things in life; that is not the point of this article.
The point of this article is to ask myself as much as I ask you, yes, YOU! Is our integrity a product of our character, or is it just a byproduct of our circumstances?
The Prosperity Test: When the Walls Come Down
The true test of a person’s integrity does not happen in the valley of lack; it happens on the mountain of plenty. Wealth, power, and influence act as solvents; they dissolve the external constraints that keep our darker impulses in check.
When a person moves from constraint to freedom, their true nature begins to leak through the cracks. This is why we often see people change once they become successful, and the common narrative is that “money changed them,” but the more uncomfortable truth is that money simply unmasked who they are.
The Shift in Compromise: As circumstances improve, the cost of a moral compromise feels lower. If a person was honest only because they feared the legal fees of a lawsuit they could not afford, that honesty evaporates once they have plenty of money and a great legal team.
The Erosion of Empathy: Many times, circumstantial saints are highly empathetic to the poor while they are among them. But if that empathy was rooted in shared suffering rather than a conviction about human dignity, it will almost certainly vanish once they have plenty and plenty to play with.
Not many people would have thought that there is a test that comes with prosperity but there is actually and it’s life that asks that question or rather set the test. So what exactly is the test of prosperity?
The “Test of Prosperity” refers to the challenges individuals face when navigating wealth, success, or elevated social status, especially when these things come suddenly. While most if not all of us dream of achieving prosperity, only few of us are prepared to handle its psychological, relational, and practical complexities, and here’s why most fail, and how to beat or pass the test of prosperity.
Continue Reading: The Test Of Prosperity: Why Most Fail And How To Pass
Conviction vs. Constraint: How to Tell the Difference
Seeking and spotting the differences between conviction and constraint requires brutal self-honesty. Conviction is an internal anchor; constraint is an external cage. And for us to understand where we stand, we have to be willing to examine these four key markers of character:
1. The Source of Action
Integrity born of constraint is fueled by a fear of consequences or simply just a lack of means. You do not “sin” because you can not afford the fallout. Integrity born of conviction, however, is fueled by internalized values and a clear spiritual identity. You choose the right path because it is who you are, regardless of the cost.
2. Environmental Stability
A “saint of constraint” is highly reactive to their surroundings. Their morality fluctuates based on their bank balance or social status. But a person of conviction remains steady; their “yes” is “yes” and their “no” is “no,” whether they are in a boardroom or anywhere else.
3. The Audience Factor
Constraint-based integrity is most times a performance; it exists because someone is watching or because society demands it. But conviction-based integrity is practiced in secret too. It is what you do when you are certain you will never be caught and when there is no social capital to be gained.
4. The Use of Power
When a person of constraint gains power, they often use it to finally indulge the hidden desires they were previously forced to suppress. But when a person of conviction gains power, they use it as a tool to protect and serve others, because their values remain the same even when the rules no longer force or demand them to behave.
The Danger of the False Pedestal
The danger of being a Circumstantial Saint is not just the eventual fall if and when that time comes; it is also very, very much the arrogance that grows in the meantime. When we believe our forced choices are moral achievements, we are likely to become judgmental of those who struggle. We look at the person succumbing to a vice and think, “Why can’t they be disciplined like me?” without acknowledging that we have never been tempted with the same intensity or the same resources.
This false righteousness creates a barrier to genuine spiritual and emotional growth. You can not fix a heart issue if you believe it is already solved. Until we admit that our goodness might just be a lack of opportunity, we remain vulnerable to the moment that opportunity finally arrives. And somehow this reminds me of an article where I used the title to ask my dearest readers a question: Are Your Good Deeds Just An Extension Of Your Selfishness?
I used to think I was a “good” person; you know the type that holds the door open, texts back quickly, donates to charities, gives to friends, listens without interrupting, and yeah, I liked being kind and I liked being known for it even more, but then something unsettling crept in quietly, sometimes even very loud in my ear or rather I should say heart, but mostly quietly, and like a whisper behind every act of my generosity: Am I doing this for them or for me?
There it was and just like that; the uncomfortable question that stripped the shine off my shiny deeds. Quick question, have you been there? Have you ever had that thought? Have ever onced asked yourself:
- Was my kindness really just a well-dressed version of self-interest?
- A clever way to be liked, respected, needed?
- Did I give to others only because it made me feel good, look good, sleep better at night?
- Was my good deeds just an extension of my own selfishness?
I did ask myself these questions and suddenly, for most of the time the good deed I had done had a shadow over them.
I noticed how my compliments were sometimes designed to win people over; how I volunteered for praise and not for purpose; how I had felt resentful when my “selfless” acts went unnoticed and to be even very very honest, they were not selfless to begin with, they were strategic. And today for some reason as I write this article, I am wondering: Can a good deed still be good if it is rooted in ego?
Continue Reading: Are Your Good Deeds Just An Extension Of Your Selfishness?
The big, obvious and very important question here is: How do we move from being Circumstantial Saints to people of genuine conviction? It begins with a process of intentional heart-work:
Practice Secret Virtue: Do good things that provide you with no social capital and no financial return. This strengthens the “moral muscle” independent of external rewards.
Audit Your Motives: Ask yourself: “If I could do this and never get caught, and it cost me nothing, would I still choose the ‘right’ thing?”
Build a Value System Independent of Status: Define who you are outside of your job title or your net worth. Integrity should be your identity, not your strategy.
Read Also: Beyond the Giving: The Heart of True Generosity
Read Also: The Weight of My Own Words: How I Fight To Live What I Preach
Read Also: The Voluntary Prison: How Giving Up Your Freedom Today Buys Your Future
Conclusion
Poverty and struggle are difficult, and they still offer a false and strange kind of protection; they keep us from the versions of ourselves we are not yet strong enough to handle. But we are all meant to grow, and I am rooting for you to grow in any area of your life where you are having challenges that come from constraint. As our circumstances improve, we must ensure that our character grows at a faster rate than our influence.
Do not be afraid of the prosperity that reveals your heart, but do be prepared for it. This is not to say that you go out of your way to seek temptations just to prove that you can overcome them; in fact, that is counterproductive. But I say that to say this: True holiness is not found in the absence of options; it is found in the presence of every temptation and the conscious decision to choose what is right anyway, everywhere and every time.
And so, again, my dearest readers, I ask: Is your integrity built on a solid rock, or is it just waiting for the tide to come in?
