In one of his best-known characterizations of the Pharisees, who were an elite group of Jews who carefully cultivated an image of piety and righteousness but who had not mastered virtue in their interior world, the Messiah called such people whitewashed sepulchures, beautiful on the outside but full of men’s bones on the inside. This particular image is not useful only to describe the Pharisees, but also our modern image-obsessed world. To the extent that we are everywhere encouraged, or even demanded, to cultivate an appearance of confidence and virtue and strength without really cultivating those virtues within us, we too can be called the same thing. We may laugh and poke fun of the Pharisees as being hypocrites, but our entire culture and way of life in this culture of personality is based on external appearances that do not accurately and honestly represent who we truly are, and to the extent that we are caught up in selling ourselves or crating our images, we too are just as hypocritical as the Pharisees we love to hate.

There are basically two approaches to managing the complicated relationship between character and personality. After all, character is what is inside of us, our true self, while personality is the external manifestation of that self that is presented to other people. Part of the joy of Pride & Prejudice is in the way that the heroine Elizabeth Bennet is forced to grapple with the presence of rival claimants for her affection who possess different relationships between character and personality. We have Wickham, who sneers at conventional hypocrisies while cultivating an even deeper hypocrisy between his profligate lifestyle and his callous exploitation of women in order to seek income. Contrasted to this is Mr. Collins, whose appearance as a superficially pious rector hides his own immense pride and vanity and lack of moral sensitivity. Then there is Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man whose pride and disdain for those around him is shaken by the honest impertinence of the heroine, and who in turn shakes her own disdain for others once both of them recognize the challenge the other presents to their views, even while both recognize the virtues the other possesses. Jane Austen, a writer in the age of character, is of the firm belief that one starts with internal virtue and then works on the presentation of that virtue to the outside world. Today, we start with the image and then seek to obliterate the unpleasant reality through elegant stagecraft.

We must all choose for ourselves whether we wish to start from the inside and work out or start from the outside and work in. If we start from the inside, we will have the disadvantage of being a bit more awkward because we have spent less time in cultivating our appearances to those who have. That said, our initial disadvantage will be counteracted by the fact that others will (eventually) be able to recognize that the way we present ourselves is open and honest and unaffected, which will lead to a greater appreciation of our character as well as a deeper appreciation of who we are over time. In contrast, if we work on our outside, we will be able to charm people easily on the outside, but our glittering personality will merely be an empty facade, like brickwork over particle board, an appearance of strength and beauty that hides flimsy and insubstantial character. The extent to which we are open about out true selves is in great part determined by our decision whether to focus on building character and then letting the presentation reflect our core commitment to openness and honesty, or whether our focus is on looking good to others and avoiding presently painful and unpleasant truths that occasionally pop up, but which present opportunities to become better people.

Being an adherent of the culture of character rather than the culture of personality, I am aware that to my peers I present an unusual spectacle, full of honest quirks as well as the occasional rough spots and eccentricities. Anyone who genuinely cares for me is going to have to care for who I am, because I cannot imagine ever being such a charmer that I would be able to pull the wool over anyone else’s eyes. Given the temporary and superficial nature of most charm, though, that might not be such a bad quality for those who are willing to look beneath the surface and take the time to develop a genuine and honest relationship. For those who are willing to eschew the superficial but empty pleasures of the culture of personality and enjoy the deeper springs of the culture of character, the rewards are lasting even if the work is difficult. Ultimate, we must choose whether to appear good or to become so. Let us choose wisely.