From Virtue to Vanity: The Evolution of Fame

In the beginning, there was this thing called virtue. Virtues were qualities which were considered morally good or of exceptional merit. These virtues might include patience, humility, kindness, chastity, temperance, charity, and diligence. Other cultures or schools of thought might also include courage, justice, wisdom, heroism, or faithfulness, depending on your cultural context or time period. Virtues were highly esteemed values to which humanity aspired, and from which we gave ourselves meaning and purpose.

Fame, it should be noted, was not a virtue, but an incidental byproduct of status. If one were a king or a great warrior or a traveled explorer, people simply knew who you were. In that sense, you were famous.

A few centuries ago, things began to change. As society began to have more leisure time and news became more accessible, people became famous for other things—music, theater, sports. If you could write a beautiful symphony, or act in a well-written play, or were prolific at hitting home runs, fame would come to you. And while these activities weren’t necessarily heroic or virtuous, it displayed a type of virtuosity. These activities were dependent on talent or technique developed over time. As the saying goes, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice.”

In the last century, fame began to take on a nonsensical tone. Eventually, you could be famous for stuffing the most teenagers in a phone booth, or streaking through a public event, or eating the most hot dogs in three minutes. No longer did you have to have creativity or virtuosity. Character and virtuosity were often irrelevant to fame.

Today, our culture’s insatiability with fame has entered ludicrous speed. Not only has character and virtuosity become irrelevant, so has substance. It is now possible to be famous for simply being famous. Social media influencers, TikTok, so called “content” creators, and the like have created an avalanche of status-seeking, vacuous distractors. People with no expertise whatsoever have become our experts. People with no creative virtuosity or no apparent strength of character have become our role models. And clicks, followers, and streams are the new currency of this modern “virtue.”

Clearly something is upside down. But because everyone is living upside down now, nobody seems to notice.

Am I ranting just a little bit? Perhaps. But there is a real danger here. Fame in and of itself is empty and void. By its very nature, fame can take God from the center and put us in His place. In its extreme, it can be a lonely and self-perpetuating prison. As the writer of Ecclesiastes states, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.” And to consider fame a virtue may be one of the biggest lies of all.

As artists of faith, what are we to do?

When I was working on my book, Honest Worship, my publisher was encouraging me to do the promotion thing—contact people to write Amazon reviews, do a social media blitz, use my influence as a pastor to get my congregation to buy the book, do a “book tour.” And I reminded them that one of the major talking points of the book is to not seek fame and popularity, especially as it related to worship. Would it not be ironic to seek fame in an attempt to encourage people to not seek fame? I was quite conflicted.

So I understand that there’s a practical side to this, especially for artists who are trying to get their work out there. We need to be savvy about marketing, promotion, and the like. But it’s important that whatever fame or reputation we might achieve through our art be grounded in virtuosity and substance. We need to resist the often-overwhelming temptation to make fame the goal of our art. We need to be people of character and integrity. We need to walk in the Spirit with the true virtues of our calling: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. We need to practice the real humility our Lord Jesus showed to the world.

We need to orient ourselves—our goals and aspirations and our very souls—right side up.

[Banner Photo by Mathilda Khoo on Unsplash.]


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