Delphic Maxim 81: Detest disgrace

I’ve set myself the challenge of responding to each Delphic Maxim for 15 minutes a day.

81. Detest disgrace

Let’s take it as a given that we’re all across what we mean by detest here. We’re in really loathsome territory with this one, disgrace is something that we consider vile, intolerable, just really really bad. Taking that as a given, let’s have a think about why exactly disgrace is so contemptible.

Consider the structure of the word itself: dis-grace. This is essentially a negation of grace, which you would ordinarily associate with godliness, or that kind of spiritual sublime good. If grace is the light and lovely manner of conducting yourself with goodness in the world, then the negation of that is a sort of reckless, careless, heartless and clumsy thrashing through life. Disgrace is messy and destructive, it is a long way from the good purpose and intention and character of grace.

Whenever I hear the word disgrace, I am reminded of the many occasions on which the the leader of the Australian Greens — Richard Di Natale — bellows it across the Senate. It’s a favourite attack of his, and while I think it’s possible to overuse a word, it does help get an insight into its use. Disgrace gets spat out by people when a person’s actions are appallingly low, when they degrade humanity and decency. That’s usually the context in which political figures use it — describing a policy as disgraceful or the heartless actions of a leader as a disgrace.

There’s also the sense in which someone is a physical disgrace, like a human transformed by Circe into swine. In a way, this really reflects the same negation of good grace: showing up filthy and unkept, but also in an environment where that sort of thing is unexpected. Nobody would say a muddy person is disgraceful if they’ve just been for a mud run or doing landscaping. But if they showed up like that to a nice dinner, sweaty and disgusting, dumping mud on the carpet and completely unapologetic…well then it kind of crosses a line.

I suppose all of this ties into the social dimensions of grace and honour as well. Disgrace is measured against social expectations and conventions. There’s obviously nothing particularly natural about grace, it’s a product of our networks and communities. Disgrace functions within that social matrix as well: just like honour and dishonour, grace and disgrace are read against the rubric of relationships with other people.

Detest is a really strong word, so this maxim is probably another over-cooked historical artefact. The lesson for contemporary life is less to detest disgrace, but more to conduct yourself with grace (and probably to avoid being disgraceful).