To be sure, if their consent is solicited for things which they look upon as definitely wrong—things against which their conscience would vehemently revolt—they will resist. Not so, however, if it is a question of neutral things, or such as they deem merely useless or irrelevant. All of us have known such helpless persons whose kindness is presumed on by everybody and who squander their time and their energies because they are not able to refuse any request of others. Perhaps it is that, at a given moment, they would think it discourteous to refuse what is asked of them; or that they are moved to compassion; or they feel that they cannot face the ill humor their refusal would evoke—anyhow, they yield and thus easily lapse into servility. In more extreme cases, compassion can even seduce them into conniving at some definite wrong or at least tolerating it passively.

Ways to combat pliability of conduct

Obviously, this pliancy, too, endangers freedom, and should be fought if present in one’s character. Holy obedience—a strict conforming to spiritual advice—is eminently helpful in such cases. Here, again, the subject should consciously develop moral armor and put it on before he enters a situation that is likely to test his firmness of will. Even to become well aware of being afflicted with this defect of excessive pliability will by itself mark a first step towards his cure.

He must recollect himself in conspectu Dei, and engage in a systematic campaign against his weakness. Having regard to his particular case, he must train himself to mistrust the suasions of compassion in general. Also, he must learn how to refuse a request firmly from the outset and how to cut short an interview immediately when he feels his resistance to be wavering. He may resort to specific ascetical practices calculated to increase his firmness of character.

Above all, he must see to it that he fulfills punctually all his actual obligations towards others, lest he should develop a guilty conscience, which would further aggravate his natural proneness to yield. As far as possible, he should avoid being in the debt of others. If, nevertheless, such a situation emerges, he should consider it soberly in its true proportions—again in conspectu Dei, that is—endeavoring to conceive of his indebtedness as the concrete and limited thing it is rather than derive from it a generalized guilty conscience tinging his relations with his fellow men indiscriminately. He should also, of course, hasten to acquit himself of that debt—taking care, however, not to magnify its dimensions.

Compulsive independence as a limiter of freedom

A certain contrast to the defects we have now discussed is offered by another type of unfreedom, which we might call the complex of independence. There is a category of people who feel irked by being in any way obliged to others. They think their freedom curtailed by any debt of gratitude. The truth is that their state of mind—the delusion that being obliged to others takes away from their freedom—is itself a manifestation of their lack of inner freedom. He who is truly free enjoys the gratitude he may owe to his fellow men.