I recently learned an amusing description for German people (modified for print in The Catholic Spirit): Germans keep their stuff in.
It’s a clever quip that captures that quality of uptightness, inflexibility and reservedness that, fair or not, has come to characterize the popular perception of Germans and those of German descent.
In fact, there’s a whole catalogue of these kinds of cliched sayings about various cultural and ethnic personality traits: The French are snobby, Italians are ruled by their passions and Americans are loud and obnoxious. I’m well familiar with the genre; growing up, one of my favorite T-shirts read “Warning: Irish Temper and German Stubbornness.”
Part of the reason we love these sorts of sayings is because they notice and make light of the ways our cultural backgrounds shape us. In doing so, they also tend to implicitly justify the traits and behaviors described. After all, these sayings are presented as simply the way things are, as given and unchangeable as our genetic code.
Which is interesting to keep in mind when considering the origin of the “Germans keep their stuff in” line. It comes, I’m told, from financial journalist Michael Lewis’ 2011 book “Boomerang,” an investigation into how different countries contributed to the global financial crisis of 2008. In this context, Lewis’ saying implies that Germans’ reservedness inhibited them from questioning and pushing back against the bad bonds that sunk the world economy.
In other words, as “given” as the German tendency toward restraint might be, in this case, it contributed to a bad situation. Simply saying that it’s a profoundly reinforced cultural trait may be true, but it doesn’t get around the fact that it effectively acted as a blind spot and undermined prudence and responsibility.
This should make us pause before relishing in and excusing our various culturally inherited idiosyncrasies and impulses. Just because these tendencies are deep-seated doesn’t mean they don’t need further refinement or amendment, or that the actions that proceed from them can’t be morally problematic or are not our responsibility. Something isn’t automatically justifiable simply because it’s handed down and reinforced via a wider culture.
The same can be said not just for cultural traits, but even familial ones. Our families undoubtedly shape and influence us at the deepest levels, just as God intended. But the reality of freedom means that sometimes not all the traits and tendencies we receive are necessarily good ones.
This is a lesson I’ve had to learn over time, as I’ve come to recognize that the unduly competitive and overly critical climate I grew up in in a household of five boys does not always lend itself to virtuous behavior. Simply saying “That’s just the way I am!” is no excuse when these kinds of acquired traits contribute to division, egoism and a lack of self-giving love. I, and all of us, are called to something more.
Cultural factors, familial factors, and even biological factors shape us in profound ways, and we certainly can’t be blamed for the ways in which we’ve been formed beyond our control. But it’s also true that these tendencies can mislead us when uncritically followed. Therefore, it’s incumbent upon us, in cooperation with God’s grace, to work to overcome any habits or traits that prevent us from loving God and neighbor. As Msgr. Steven Rolfs at The St. Paul Seminary is fond of saying about this kind of dynamic, “It’s not your fault, but it is your problem.”
Because as important as our cultural and familial belongings are, they are not the ultimate criteria of our life. Becoming Christ-like is. In God’s plan, culture and family are meant to contribute to becoming more like Christ (who, after all, belonged to a particular culture and a particular family). But when they don’t, it’s our responsibility to work to overcome or rein in whatever unhelpful habits and tendencies we’ve inherited — be it an Irish temper, German stubbornness, or otherwise.
Liedl, a Twin Cities resident, is the senior editor of the National Catholic Register and a graduate student in theology at The St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity.
