What Is the Virtue of Decorum?

The pagans saw many virtues that, as Catholics, we see subsumed into the Theological or Cardinal Virtues. Decorum could be seen as a part of the Cardinal Virtue of Prudence.

From Aleteia

By Fr Michael Rennier

The Roman philosopher Cicero viewed decorum as an expression of moral goodness. He thought of it as the virtue that allows us to harmonize with our surroundings.

When I was in a youth group many years ago, our pastor took all of us wild, barbarous teenagers to a nice restaurant and taught us how to behave in polite company. It was a daunting task. We were (the boys, at least) a group of rowdy, loud, immature people. We’d just as soon wrestle in the mud as sit down to a fancy dinner. Most of my friends didn’t even know how to tie a tie. I only knew because my basketball coach made us wear them on gameday.

Our pastor, though, had the wisdom to want to impart to us the virtue of decorum. He wanted us to at least know which fork to use for the salad, how to speak in a proper volume of voice, how to be gentlemanly. He wanted us to understand how different situations require different standards of behavior. It seems a little thing, maybe even fussy, to be concerned with politeness and the niceties of eating dinner. At least, that’s what I thought when I was a teenager. But decorum is about so much more than I would have guessed.

We think of decorum as practicing correct behavior, being polite, and maintaining respectability. This seems right to me, but more generally, it’s a habit of being in the right place in the right way. A person with decorum has a well-developed sense that, while it might be appropriate to holler and jostle on the football field, the same wouldn’t be fitting inside a fancy restaurant. Or that while it’s good to laugh with friends at lunch, it isn’t nearly so good to laugh at a funeral. In the wrong context, even a good thing can become problematic.

Virtues becoming vices

Temperamentally, I’ve always been a bit of a bull in a china shop. In other words, I lack decorum. I’m stubborn, willing to voice my opinion, and don’t mind causing disagreements. If a mess had to be made in the service of me proving my point, well, then a mess would be made. I will often dominate conversations and try to dictate the topics discussed (even after I promise myself I won’t). I’m not necessarily loud or uncouth anymore -- my youth pastor’s etiquette lessons saw to that -- but I am still a rather strong personality.

Those personality traits, when expressed in the right ways, are assets. My stubbornness can be conviction and perseverance. My willingness to disagree results in drawing out clarifications and minimizes misunderstanding. My willingness to hold forth conversationally is born of a desire to be social and connect with others. The problem is, my traits aren’t always at their best. They take on an out-sized role and function as symptoms of inner pride and selfishness. I don’t always manage to moderate my actions with decorum. When this happens, even virtues can be become vices.

This is about far more than being able to identify the salad fork. If it were, we could dismiss decorum as nothing more than falling in line with an arbitrary definition of politeness, social niceties that aren’t all that important. It’s nice to have the ability to tie a tie but, really, it’s not a big deal if I couldn’t.

The Roman philosopher Cicero viewed decorum as an expression of moral goodness. He thought of it as the virtue that allows us to harmonize with our surroundings. The Greek philosophers who preceded him thought of it as a matching of style to substance, which emphasizes not only knowing the right thing to say but also how to say it.

To me, the virtue brings to mind the folk wisdom of gardeners who are fond of saying that a weed is just a flower in the wrong place. What might be a nuisance in one place, once transplanted to another becomes a beautiful asset to the landscaping. Thus is revealed one of the most important results in practicing decorum – it allows our virtues to shine.

When I analyze my own failures to maintain decorum, it always comes back to pride. I get ahead of myself, show off, seek attention. I aggrandize and place myself in an unearned place, and the worst part is that, even as I do so, I’m convinced that it’s a good thing. Let me fix it, I think. Let me give you advice. Let me entertain you with how clever and funny I am. I’m usually half-right. After all, like anybody else I possess a fairly consistent mix of good and bad qualities. But the good qualities need to be kept in their proper place, otherwise they become too flashy and become a parody.

Personally, I wouldn’t mind being a teenager again and receiving a few more lessons in decorum. But we can’t go back in time so, in my middle age, I’m a student again in the school of virtue learning to not dominate a conversation, talk about only myself, and draw all the attention. I don’t need to step out of my proper place and act more important than I am. I can be just who I am, right where God has placed me, and that’s enough.

Pictured: Prudence, from panels depicting the Virtues in Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy. By Piero del Pollaiuolo, 1496, for the Council Chamber of the Merchant Guild.