Choosing Company: Booker T. Washington on Character
Created at: September 27, 2025
Associate yourself with people of good quality, for it is better to be alone than in bad company. — Booker T. Washington
Why Company Matters
At the outset, Washington’s counsel compresses a hard-won truth: the people around us set the temperature of our habits, hopes, and horizons. By “good quality” he gestures toward character—honesty, diligence, generosity—rather than status. Hence the second clause is not misanthropic; it is prophylactic. Proximity to corrosive norms is costly, while temporary aloneness preserves integrity and leaves room for better alignments. This framing shifts the common fear: the risk is not solitude but slow assimilation to standards we would never sign for in the abstract. From here, the question becomes historical and practical: how have thinkers, reformers, and researchers weighed the company we keep?
Ancient and Scriptural Precedents
Looking backward, Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (c. 350 BC) distinguishes friendships of utility, pleasure, and virtue; only the last refines both parties through shared pursuit of the good. Likewise, 1 Corinthians 15:33 warns, "Bad company corrupts good character," a terse maxim echoed by countless proverbs. These sources converge on the same intuition: companionship is formative, not neutral. Consequently, choosing friends resembles choosing a curriculum—each conversation teaches. With that frame, Washington’s line reads less like social fastidiousness and more like moral pedagogy.
Washington’s Context and Strategy
In Washington’s own life, context sharpened the counsel. Building the Tuskegee Institute (1881), he surrounded students with instructors whose habits modeled competence and dignity. Up From Slavery (1901) recounts students making bricks and erecting their own buildings, learning punctuality and stewardship through shared labor. Such design leveraged peer effects: when excellence is the campus norm, newcomers rise to meet it. Conversely, in an era of Jim Crow hostility, “bad company” could mean circles where cynicism, vice, or despair calcified; distance from those patterns protected the fragile gains of education and enterprise. Thus the proverb became policy.
Evidence from Social Science
Today, research echoes this intuition with data. Christakis and Fowler’s network studies (NEJM, 2007) show behaviors and emotions—from obesity to smoking to happiness—spreading along social ties, suggesting that norms propagate like currents. Meanwhile, Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone (2000) links weakened civic networks to declines in trust and opportunity. Together they imply that our immediate circle is a high-leverage intervention: improve the micro-network, and life outcomes follow. Accordingly, Washington’s preference for solitude over corrosive peers aligns with a prevention principle in public health—remove exposure, reduce risk—while leaving open the path to better ties.
The Case for Solitude
When such circles are scarce, solitude is not a void but a workshop. Thoreau’s Walden (1854) frames aloneness as a setting for clarity, where one can audit influences and set standards before reentering the fray. Practically, periods of intentional solitude allow skill-building, reflection, and the patient search required to find or create better communities. In this sense, being alone is less a retreat than a staging ground; it buys time for discernment, so that the next association is chosen, not drifted into.
Choosing—and Becoming—Good Company
From principle to practice, two moves reinforce each other: choose good company and become it. Seek people who tell the truth kindly, keep promises, and celebrate others’ growth; then embody the same. Proverbs 27:17 reminds, "Iron sharpens iron," implying reciprocity rather than extraction. Concrete filters help: notice how you act after time with someone—more courageous or more small? Do they normalize excellence and ethical constraints, or clever shortcuts? By curating inputs and raising one’s own output, the circle upgrades from within.
Compassion Without Compromise
Finally, prudence need not harden into elitism. Washington collaborated across differences and mentored widely, yet he maintained firm boundaries around corrosive norms. We can do likewise: offer help without adopting harmful habits; practice hospitality while safeguarding standards; step into messy places with accountability partners and clear exit criteria. In this way, compassion and caution travel together, and the original maxim becomes a generative strategy—protecting one’s core so that one can contribute more widely.