Why Being Meek Is Actually a Superpower, Not a Weakness

When mixed martial arts champion Matt Serra faced down a drunk man threatening diners in 2018, he didn't throw a punch. Instead, he calmly pinned the aggressor and waited for security, choosing restraint over force.

That's real meekness, and it's nothing like the wimpy doormat image the word conjures today. Philosopher Timothy Pawl argues we've lost something important by forgetting what virtues like meekness, docility, and even condescension originally meant.

The word "meek" comes from the Greek term for training a powerful horse to respond to its rider's commands. A meek horse wasn't weak. It was strong but controlled, channeling its power through discipline rather than wild emotion.

When Jesus called himself meek in the Gospels, he used that same Greek word: praus. No Greek warrior wanted a wimpy horse in battle. They wanted animals with strength held in check by training and wisdom.

Today we call meekness weakness. We think of someone who submits tamely to mistreatment or lacks backbone. But the original meaning described someone who controlled their anger brilliantly, choosing their battles wisely and never letting emotions cloud judgment.

Think of the parent who stays calm when their toddler throws a tantrum. The teacher who doesn't rise to a student's provocation. The police officer who de-escalates instead of dominates. They all have power but choose restraint.

Why This Inspires

We've lost the language for traits we desperately need. We don't have a single word anymore for someone who fights the right battles without being easily baited into regrettable actions. "Self-control" is too broad, covering everything from resisting dessert to enduring hardship.

The same goes for docility, which used to mean being excellent at receiving instruction while still thinking for yourself. Now it just sounds like being a pushover. And condescension once described treating everyone with equal respect regardless of social status, making people feel valued without awkwardness.

Without words for these virtues, we struggle to teach them or even recognize them. How do you cultivate a trait you can't name? How do you praise behavior you don't have language to describe?

Pawl isn't demanding we resurrect old vocabulary, but he's pointing out a moral void where important concepts used to live. We still value controlled strength, wise judgment, and authentic respect. We just can't talk about them clearly anymore.

Maybe it's time we found new words for old wisdom, or remembered that some "outdated" virtues never stopped being exactly what we need.