Dignity is what happens when we expect something else. Instead of shame, instead of avoiding responsibility, instead of excuses, when we act with dignity, we act with an unexpected grace.
The word dignity comes from the Old French Dignite “dignity, priviledge, honor,” which comes from the Latin Dignus “worth, worthy, proper, fitting,” which in turn comes from PIE root dek, “to take, accept.”
Let’s explore the connective tissue between dignity, honor, worth, fitting, and to accept. It seems that the deeper roots of the word all have something to do with an accurate assessment of reality and of one’s place within it. To accept or take is at first glance a passive act: one is not the subject but the indirect object in the sentence of accepting. In other words, something happens, which impacts us, and we take or accept it. Similarly, ‘fitting’ or ‘worth’ are both words that connote a spacial or qualitative assessment between what something is and how it operates or is received. It is fitting, when asked, to take off one’s shoes upon entering another person’s house. It is fitting to eat a hot dog at a baseball game. It is fitting to take time off work to mourn the death of a loved one. There is no exact measurement or playbook for what is fitting; rather, it lives in a kind of “you know it when you see it” category. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that we sense what is fitting rather than know what is fitting.
Similarly, worth operates in a gray area of intuition rather than exactitude. When deliberating over something, we often say “it’s worth it,” as a means of convincing ourselves or justifying a position. (If, in fact, the worth were completely self evident, then we wouldn’t need to make any claims about its worth). Worth is real but also perceived, and therefore constructed. It is an extension of a complex internal calculus that is part our own, part societal, part (depending on your philosophical persuasion) tapped into a higher truth.
So what does all of this have to do with dignity?
Let’s use a musical analogy here. Let’s imagine that reality can be represented by a base note. This analogy is useful because it can hold two seemingly contradictory interpretations of the universe at the same time: that reality could be both diverse/relative (different notes) but also objective (the note exists, there are truths that can be derived from the note). In this metaphor, acting with dignity is like playing notes of harmony. They might not be the most obvious notes to accompany the base note, but once heard, the balance they strike clicks. It has majesty, honor, beauty.
There is another, much simpler way of saying all of this. Dignity is what happens when we accept external or internal conditions and then, upon that framework, act the best way we possibly can. It’s not about changing reality. It’s not about doing something for praise or the ego. It’s humbler and more unexpected than that. It requires a quiet wisdom, and a willingness to potentially be ridiculed or blamed.
And like any haunting note, it rings out long after it is played.