Article
Character
Comment
Friendship
Virtues
4 min read

As algorithms divide us, who should we be loyal to?

An ethicist’s answer, shows we need courage and wisdom too.

Isaac is a PhD candidate in Theology at Durham University and preparing for priesthood in the Church of England.

Three people sitting looking out over viewpoint are silhouetted against the sky.
Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash.

What is loyalty? As we plunge into this new year of 2025 it seems as pressing a question as ever. The war in Ukraine rumbles on, a fresh Labour government continues to struggle with public opinion, and America returns to the unpredictable rule of the first president in its history to be a convicted felon. The algorithms of social media continue to segregate and amplify different audiences into ever more closed feedback loops and echo chambers. This may bolster loyalty to a point of view, but estrange us further from our friends and neighbours whose loyalties lie elsewhere. All of these and many other cases highlight the conflict of loyalties in our society and wider world. What is even more obvious is that if we are to make peace, cultivate love for enemies, and pursue the common good, then perhaps the most in-demand virtue of 2025, at the top over every wish list, might just be loyalty.  

But what really is loyalty?  

I was struck by a persuasive answer given by Dr Tony Milligan, research fellow in philosophical ethics at King’s College London, during his appearance on a recent episode of The Moral Maze on BBC Radio 4 that asked ‘is loyalty a virtue or a vice?’ He said loyalty is, “Sharing another person’s commitments and the willingness to go through various kinds of adversity in order to pursue those commitments and to further them.” Under cross examination and asked if loyalty is then an absolute virtue he responded, “I think that it’s absolute in the sense that we absolutely need to have it, that it’s basic to the human condition and not optional.” His second interrogator, Giles Fraser, then suggested a ‘high doctrine of mates’. In this doctrine you are loyal to your mates in all circumstances, even if they are ‘wrong-uns’. Dr Milligan’s response, when asked how he would characterise this ‘doctrine of mates’ position, was fascinating: “Addiction.” Fraser then asked if that addiction could be love. “It’s a case of love, and we don’t get to choose the people that we love. We find ourselves in the predicament and then try to make the best of it…I love my wife Susanne, I’ve been with her 31 years, and it’s love, and it’s also addiction. I just can’t envisage a world in which I would be without her.” This framed Dr Milligan’s final powerful point: love, and the loyalty which love entails, gives us our sense of value.  

I can bear witness to the truth of Dr Milligan’s intertwining of love and loyalty. Last autumn I became a father for the second time. My love for my eldest is so great that there was a real question: ‘if my love for my eldest is so total, so all encompassing, how can I possibly love a second as much?’ This question melted away as I gazed into her screwed-up face, moments after she entered the world. I am completely dedicated to ensuring that she flourishes and I would “go through various kinds of adversity in order to pursue” her flourishing. As Dr Mulligan also said, loyalty “is basic to the human condition and not optional.” Of course, how this total and non-zero-sum loyalty of love to both of my children actually works in practice requires of me thoughtful negotiation. If one wants to go to the park and the other wants to go to the swimming pool I cannot split in two and do both things at once. Loyalty, as finite human beings, requires wisdom in living in the middle of a messy network of demands and desires, of the preferences and needs of others. 

If loyalty is then one thing, it is the willingness to recognise that we are tied to other people, whether we like it or not. Cain’s question to God, when God came looking for Abel, is still pertinent: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Perhaps the greatest disloyalty is the implied ‘no’ in Cain’s rhetorical question. In denying that he is bound to his brother he is disloyal not only to Abel, but to himself because he denies his own humanity and isolates himself from the humanity of other people. If we isolate ourselves, having loyalty only to ourselves, we lose the joy of being fully human. If we simply kill those we dislike, whether literally (in war or murder) or metaphorically (‘unfriending’, cancelling, pretending they do not exist), then we follow Cain. Loyalty, as the tie that binds us to the messiness of the real world where people vehemently disagree all the time, requires not only wisdom then but courage also. It takes courage to commit to one person in marriage. It takes courage to raise a child. It takes courage to continue to talk with and to love those with whom you deeply disagree.  

When practising our 2025 New Year’s resolutions let us make sure that amongst the commitments to get back to the gym and practice that new hobby that we remember to practice loyalty. Loyalty not only to those we love, but to those we might come to love. Let us be wise enough and brave enough to be fettered to those with whom we disagree, loyal to the humanity that binds us together.

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Article
Character
Culture
Football
Sport
3 min read

What happens if your club doesn’t win?

In football leagues and life not all of us can be winners.

Henry Corbett, a vicar in Liverpool and chaplain to Everton Football Club.  

  

A dejected football coach squats by the byline.

Most football clubs don’t win Premier League titles, FA Cup finals, Champions League trophies. 

Most football players don’t pick up winners' medals at the highest level. 

Many of us don’t achieve fame, status, “winners” headlines. No medals or trophies on our mantlepiece, no rousing applause or open-top bus parades. 

So, are we losers, are we the defeated, should we be envious of the winners? Or do we try and ignore all this talk about winning and remain indifferent to all this hype about football, medals, fame, applause? 

Here are some attempts at comfort, at a better perspective, at some hope for us all, whether out club wins titles or not, whether a player picks up medals or not, and whether all of us are recognised, famous or not. 

Winning is not just about titles and trophies. If your club has the resources and the team to win a title and a trophy, at whatever level, professional or amateur, that is great and definitely to be celebrated.  

But if you support a club with a limited budget and which has performed brilliantly well and beyond expectations has stayed in its division and brought pleasure to many then that is a win.  

If your club, thanks to great efforts by a few or many, has remained solvent and has an outstanding community section that makes a difference, that is a win.  

If your club has excellent supporter involvement and a pricing system that is fair, inclusive and creates good relationships across the club and the community that is a win.

If your team is clearly improving, if the attitude is spot on, if the behaviour on and off the pitch is sound, if every player and coach and staff member gives their very best as well as looking to improve that is a win.  

The word “winning” needs a fairer, more encouraging, truer definition. 

Are we the defeated, the losers, the envious? Of course not. 

They say that professional football players have two lives: the first is their playing career, and then the second is their life after their playing days. To win in life is to win in both lives.  

That will mean giving of their best as players with a passion to learn, to improve, to be a good teammate. It means being a good role model on and off the pitch. Then in life number two to give of your best there too to make our world a better, fairer, more loving, more beautiful place.  

And there will be lessons from the time as a player to take into life number two: the values of teamwork, discipline, training, courage, and of course coping with the disappointment of not maybe winning titles and realising there is more to life than simply titles. Player, manager and World Cup winner with Argentina in 1978 Ossie Ardlies reflected back on his football career and said:  

“Everyone is a winner who gives their best.” 

And for all of us applause, status, fame are unreliable goals. A few achieve that, some deservedly, some maybe less so. Most don’t hit the headlines. Are we the defeated, the losers, the envious? Of course not.  

So, are we indifferent to such issues as winning, success, applause, accolades?  Roy Castle wrote a forward to a slim volume of essays celebrating Christians who had worked and served in their communities away from the limelight, and he mentioned that as a performer he appreciates the applause he gets. “These people”, he wrote, “have worked away without applause, But there is always one person in the audience. His applause comes later.”  That’s the greatest win. 

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