The End (In and of Itself)

A Tool for Goal Setting

There are many pursuits that are good and honorable. There are many more that are blatantly destructive and harmful. Between these two extremes is an experience in which a pursuit that begins as good and honorable somehow turns into something that is destructive and harmful. This week I’m endeavoring to work out at least one way that I’ve experienced and seen this happen. It seems that this shift occurs when the initial pursuit turns into the end, in and of itself.

I need to clarify some language before I move any further. For the purposes of working this idea out, there are two terms that I will be leaning on. The first is a pursuit. A pursuit is an activity of some kind, normally engaged in a particular direction, towards a specific end. An example for me might be the pursuit of learning tap dancing, in the manner of Gregory Hines, for the sake of personal and shared joy. The second term is the end, or goal. Goals are where we hope to end up in our pursuits. In my own previous example, it would be that of personal and shared joy.

As we can see, every pursuit has at least three parts. First is the actual activity; second, the direction or way; and third is the goal or end. As we endeavor in our pursuits we are continually testing to see if we are on the right path towards our goals. These tests then provide a feedback loop (a way of measuring or seeing), so that we can adjust our activities if necessary. There is a very tight relationship between the three areas of a pursuit. We can learn more about how the relationships work by experimenting with changing the content of the parts. Imagine this alternate example:

I pursue learning tap dancing, in the manner of Gregory Hines, for the sake of a successful career in the theatre industry.

In only changing the goal we may imagine how this shift might change my activity – what I learn. More specifically, how might the shift in goals change the particular skills that I choose to focus on as I learn the dancing, or look to learn from Gregory’s life and model?

Here’s another one:

I pursue learning tap dancing, in the manner of Gregory Hines, to become a good tap dancer.

There are a few things in this example that need to be addressed. The first is the shift in the kind of goal. In the first example our pursuit was set in light of a goal of joy – a primarily emotional or spiritual experience. Our second example had a goal of a successful career – a primarily economic or industrial experience. This last example has a formational goal – to become something. Formational goals are powerful. To be engaged in our own formation is empowering. However, the specific defining of formational goals is imperative.

In this example the goal is poorly defined. It’s simply too general. There are too many kinds of tap dancers, and too much confusion in the field, for “good tap dancer” to be a measurable goal in and of itself. And goals need to be measurable. Otherwise one will never know how close they are to reaching them (or not). How can we make this goal more specific?

Instead of “good tap dancer” we can replace it with a phrase that begins, “the kind of tap dancer that [fill in the blank]” We fill in the blank with the specific, measurable skills, that we want to acquire. With this kind of specific goal we can then review whether or not Gregory Hines may be the best model. We can also review the activities we engage in as we learn tap dance with our very specific goals in mind.

A Deep Connection

In the arts, especially oral traditions, there is a deep connection between the activity (or practice), the person or persons we are modeling after, and the end. Because oral traditions are designed to be connected to personal and communal identity there is an underlying assumption that the end will be a formative goal. We learn tap dancing, for example, to become the kind of tap dancer who is identifiable as coming from a particular community of tap dancers. That community has a set of values that one would hope to be good, and are evident in ones persona regardless. Those values are transferred during the learning process and are an integral part of the formation of the dancer.

In oral traditions those values are not limited to the craftwork. They are connected to life and livelihood. Coming back to our example, in the global community of tap dancers there is such diversity of thought about life and livelihood, that the formation of dancers are all over the spectrum. Some tap dancers are formed to be contemplative, patient, kind, and generous, for instance. While others are formed to be hustlers, action-oriented, harsh, and more achievement-focused. There is, however, a shared goal across the community that is often expressed in this way: we learn tap dancing, in the model of a particular dancer, for the sake of the craft.

This is the shift I’ve seen cause the most hurt. When the end of our pursuit is not connected to life, but rather some inanimate thing – be it craft or even institution – we set ourselves in service of a thing that has no inherent care for life. How many times have we seen or heard of stories in which a human life is so immersed in a particular pursuit to the detriment of that very life? The outcome for the person is depleted health, burnout, or worse. We defend the pursuit as worthwhile, as the goal is being achieved. We can see fruit from our labor. We are becoming the kind of dancer we want to become, for instance. But what kind of person are we becoming in the meantime?

A Deeper Look

Let’s look at another example to see if we can work out the idea a little further.

I pursue the building of a business, in the model of an exceptional entrepreneur, for the sake of owning a business.

OR

I pursue the planting of a church, in the model of an exceptional pastor, for the sake of establishing a church.

In these examples, which are intentionally provocative, the goal is self-serving of the pursuit. Phrased in this way both examples run the risk of using any resource, including people, for the sake of the goal. There is nothing in the goals, as stated, that addresses the way owning the business or establishing the church serves a larger sphere than the thing itself. Is owning a business or establishing a church inherently evil? No. Do they both require immense commitment, ongoing dedication, time, and effort to bring to fruition? Yes. Can they become self-serving? Yes. When they become self-serving, do they hurt people? Yes. When the pursuit becomes the end in and of itself the potential for hurt is amplified. The priority becomes the continued owning of the business, or establishing of the church, or becoming a tap dancer.

This dramatic prioritization can set everything else in one’s life in service of the stated priority. The desire to reach the stated goal is not buffeted by anything. Resources can be acquired by an “any means necessary” mindset for the sake of the goal. People become resources, and end up being used.

It doesn’t have to be this way. To change, we may have to revisit our desired outcomes, becoming much more specific. We may have to be much more reflective with regards to our own formation and the impact we have on the formation of others, especially in light of our pursuits. Everything we do has an impact on our own formation, and by extension the formation of those around us. If we don’t account for that formation in the pursuits we engage in, we run the risk of becoming someone we never wanted to be, for the sake of something much less valuable. I would propose that no business, church, institution, or craft, is worth becoming a kind of person who causes hurt wherever they go. Therefore, the pursuits that we set ourselves in service of should be good for our own formation as well. We cannot escape being formed in relationship to the things that we pursue. Being conscious of this will help us make the best possible choices.

One Extra Word

An important extension to this thought: Institutions have a way of amplifying the nature of the kinds of people who are in them. Poorly formed leaders make poorly formed choices that the mechanisms of institutions amplify by design.

This also means that institutions can amplify the nature of well-formed people. Well-formed leaders make well-formed decisions that the mechanisms of institutions can amplify. As much as institutional design is important, more important is the formation of the individuals who operate within the institution. Imagine the leader who is honest, gentle, patient, kind, self-controlled, and joyful. Imagine the worker who is the same. Imagine the artist who expresses themselves through whatever medium they choose from that disposition of character. Imagine the world that their cumulative choices would create in their wake.