The Minefield

There are few jobs in professional sports that are more important, and more unforgiving, than that of coach. Their most significant work is invisible to the fans. When things go wrong, the coach is usually the first to be blamed. When the team is enjoying success, it is the players that typically reap the accolades.Coaches can make or break a club. They can transform mid-tier teams to genuine contenders, and they can utterly “lose the locker room”.But the weight of responsibility that many coaches feel is not just the expectation to win. It’s the cultivation of a winning culture — creating the kind of environment that encourages players to sacrifice for one another, and strengthening the bonds that enabling them to withstand the dangers of failure and success.

Athletes would seem to be the embodiments of strength, discipline, autonomy, self-reliance. Of all people, we would expect them to be invulnerable to the moments of self-doubt and weakness that afflict the rest of us.And yet, particularly after serious injuries or during long periods of convalescence and rehabilitation, many athletes experience intensified forms of the vulnerability — the dependency upon others, the dis-ability, even — that are essential to the human condition.So what can the experience of physical limitation on the part of elite athletes tell us about what Alasdair MacIntyre calls “the virtues of acknowledged dependence”?

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?

Stan Grant, a Wiradjuri and Kamaloroi man, columnist, and distinguished professor, engages in a thought-provoking discussion about Australia’s multicultural strengths and potential weaknesses. He highlights the erosion of trust between citizens and the government, exacerbated by the housing crisis and systemic inequalities. The conversation examines the moral dissonance in political discourse and the importance of community bonds in fostering social cohesion. Grant stresses the critical need for meaningful dialogue to bridge divides and promote understanding among Australians.

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.