Within certain religious traditions, pride is a “special sin” because it involves an overestimation of one’s self — making oneself a little “god” in one’s own eyes. But Aristotle did not regard pride as such to be a vice, only its unwarranted or unmerited expressions.The important thing for Aristotle was not to seek recognition or adulation from just anyone. Instead, we should try to do things that make us proud of the person we have become — and that elicit pride from those we respect and admire.Many people are (rightly) turned off by arrogant or contemptuous or boastful athletes. But the ability to be proud of oneself — the person I’ve become, what it took for me to get here, that I’ve honoured the faith my mentors placed in me, to say nothing of the time and effort of the team around me — is surely inseparable from athletic achievement. From true greatness.

Over the next five weeks, we are going to be exploring a series of profound moral dilemmas with some of Australia’s most accomplished athletes. How has their life in elite competition prepared them to wrestle with challenges so many of us have faced ourselves? Has sporting excellence succeeded in bringing out the best in them? If so, what can that teach the rest of us?But before we examine the best, it seems only fitting that we first acknowledge the worst. In their frequent displays of superiority, and in their demand for adulation — even “worship” — elite athletes mark themselves as a class apart. More than billionaires, music stars and monarchs, it is athletes who seem to live among us like gods: bigger, faster, stronger than the rest of us.Should we be surprised, then, when these athletes do not want to be bound by the normal laws of human behaviour? After all, the arenas they inhabit are governed by rules of their own, and their conduct in these arenas evokes older, mythic, more violent times: a time of combatants, aggressors, warriors, giants, titans. Is it any wonder that so many elite athletes — given their physical supremacy, the vast sums of money at their disposal, and the ready throng of worshippers that surround them — should be peculiarly susceptible to the arch-vices, the seven deadly sins?

One of Australia's greatest strengths has been the remarkable diversity of its multicultural society. But is this also a potential source of weakness? In this live recording at the Festival of Dangerous Ideas, Waleed Aly and Scott Stephens, along with guest Stan Grant, explore the internal and external forces that risk undermining our sense of social unity.This episode was first broadcast on 08 September 2024.

It is worth reflecting, not just on what is singular about Taylor Swift at this particular cultural moment — why she attracts both the loyalty and the animus that she does — but on what it is about live music events that now draw millions of people to them.This episode was first broadcast on 18 February 2024.

During the pandemic, there was a sudden renewal of interest in Harold Ramis's 1993 film "Groundhog Day" — especially its bleaker aspects. But this missed its sophistication and humanity, to say nothing of its acute depiction of moral growth.This episode was first broadcast on 05 May 2024. 

In this discussion, Jonathan Green, a seasoned editor and commentator, explores the vanishing sense of shared humanity amid rising individualism. He addresses how community ties have evolved, emphasizing the importance of mutual obligation over personal identity claims. Delving into the impact of technology, he highlights the need to reconnect with our commonalities to foster unity. Green also critiques the commercialization of spiritual practices and calls for a cultural shift prioritizing collective well-being over personal desires. This thought-provoking dialogue challenges listeners to rethink their values.

Are periodic bouts of withdrawal from life’s urgent demands and heated debates necessary to regain a sense of our shared humanity, and to renew the commitments that sustain the moral life? This episode was first broadcast on 17 March 2024. 

Kim Huen, a Senior Lecturer at the Australian National University and expert in caregiving and ethics, dives into the complexities of gift-giving, especially during holiday seasons. She discusses the ethical implications, distinguishing gift-giving from mere almsgiving and emphasizes the emotional connections forged through thoughtful gifts. The conversation touches on the evolving nature of gifts—from cash to experiential offerings—and highlights how acceptance of gifts can create feelings of obligation, underscoring the deep relationships that gifts symbolize.

The lecture delves into the retreat of democracy and the rise of authoritarianism, drawing lessons from past thinkers. It highlights the importance of civility and meaningful relationships, rooted in historical insights. The discussion connects literature, like Camus' 'The Plague', to today's political isolation and moral decline. Language's influence on democracy is examined, stressing the need for respectful discourse. Ultimately, it advocates for reclaiming decency and mutual respect amidst societal challenges, emphasizing our shared humanity.

In December 1974, “The Godfather, Part II” premiered in New York City. Following the unlikely success and unexpected acclaim that his 1972 adaptation of Mario Puzo’s bestselling novel received, Francis Ford Coppola was granted almost unlimited discretion to realise his cinematic vision for the sequel — and he used that discretion to greatest possible effect.In fact, “The Godfather” and “The Godfather, Part II” are rare instances of films that far outstrip, in both its narrative depth and its aesthetic form, the source material on which they are based.At the heart of the first two “Godfather” films is a stark contrast. Vito is virtuous within a cinematic universe in which legality and morality are not synonymous: the fact that his assassination of the tyrannical Don Fanucci is celebrated, that his “favours” are beneficent, that he is attentive to his wife and children — all suggest a kind of moral goodness. Whereas Michael, having begun as the most virtuous of Don Corleone’s sons, falls deeper than the others could have gone.Having begun alone, somewhat removed from the family, Michael ends the film utterly, existentially, morally, isolated.