Monaco Philosophical Encounters: Gratitude

Monaco Philosophical Encounters with the theme Gratitude organized by Rencontres Philosophiques de Monaco on Thurday 2 April 2026 at 7 pm in the Princess Grace Theatre.

What poisons morality is that evil is easier than good. Evil, in fact, only needs to be done once to be considered done forever—if there is little forgiveness. Whereas good, on the other hand, cannot be hoarded, and having done it once does not excuse one from doing it again and again. Thus, the soldier who betrays, handing over his friends to the enemy, becomes a traitor, is a traitor, and will remain so, while the poor man who gives to someone poorer than himself certainly performs a good deed, an admirable one even, as admirable as that of the poor swimmer who, despite his fear, jumps into the torrent to save a child, but neither is, from that moment on, generous or courageous forever. A slight deficiency in the French language reveals this regarding gratitude: negatively, one is ungrateful if one has never shown the slightest appreciation to anyone for a good deed received, but positively, if one has already done so, honestly and sincerely, one is not forever… a “grateful.” Gratitude has ingratitude as its opposite, but ingrate has no antonym in French (though it exists in other languages: grateful, grato, agradecido). Should we conclude from this that gratitude is a “flickering” virtue, that it cannot become a “state,” a way of being (hence the expression “je vous sais gré,” instead of “je vous suis gré”), a stable moral inclination, and even less a “character trait”? How could gratitude have been called—by Cicero—”the mother of all virtues,” if it manifests itself “by reaction,” if it is prompted by a good deed received, a favor bestowed upon it by another, if it is “secondary,” if it therefore lacks that inaugural “force of beginnings,” proper to every virtue, and to love in particular?

That gratitude derives from the Latin *gratitudo*—namely, a disposition or feeling of affection and appreciation for a gift, a favor, or a benefit received, accompanied by the sincere intention of reciprocating—is obvious. It is worthwhile, however, to explore the word further, since it comes from *gratus*, “grateful.” While the noun *gratitudo* is monosemic—meaning solely gratitude, remembrance of a benefit received—the adjective *gratus*, on the other hand, carries several meanings: an objective sense, associating it with what one finds pleasing, what is “gradito,” agreed upon, agreeable, pleasant, appreciated, welcome—which is not the case with *persona non grata*—and the subjective sense of “being grateful,” even obligated or indebted. The two meanings are not entirely dissimilar, however: gratitude is not, in fact, separate from a feeling of agreement, of pleasure, insofar as the favor received was not requested and is not subject to any condition, whether psychological, moral, or financial: it is therefore—and related terms come to mind—”gracious,” free, *gratis*, gratifying, and one can congratulate oneself on having received it and congratulate the generous giver, saying *grazie*. The Italian *ringraziare* and the Spanish *dar la gracias* are linked to family, while the French *remercier* and *merci* derive from *merces*, originally meaning “price,” salary, reward, ransom, then “favor,” pity (merciless), dependence (to be at the mercy of), “grace” (thank God, to ask for thanks), and “to give thanks to,” meaning to thank. Meanwhile, the English *thanks* and the German *Danke* both share a connection with “penser” (to think, *denken*), probably in the sense of “to think of,” of “not forgetting” the good that has been done for us, to be thankful or *dankbar*. The linguistic paths that lead to the “merci” of gratitude are endless!

All these expressions actually touch upon one or another of the three “levels” that Saint Thomas Aquinas saw in gratitude: recognizing the benefit received, praising the giver, “giving thanks” and thanking them, and finally, depending on one’s possibilities or opportunities, making it a duty and an “obligation” to reciprocate, to return the favor (which is what the Portuguese expression for gratitude is: obrigado).

The entire virtue of love lies in the power to love, not to be loved—as we already read in Plato’s Symposium. And it is perhaps this active infinitive that, at first glance, seems to be lacking in gratitude. As we have said, it is secondary, reactive: in fact, even when expressed or cultivated in the silence of the soul, gratitude always stems from a relational dynamic in which it has no initiating power: it is always manifested toward something or someone whose action preceded it. Good has been done – but not by me, who am now placed in the position of receiving and blessing it without having created it. From a psychological point of view, this position is likely to give rise to a feeling of inferiority, a “discomfort” comparable to that of the destitute person allocated a subsistence allowance, or to that which anyone feels when receiving a loan, a subsidy, a charity, “humanitarian aid.” Your generous help is precious to me; I am grateful and thank you—but how I wish I had never needed it! This feeling is never that of the ungrateful person, whose ego is so voracious that it thinks only of enriching itself and taking everything for itself, without worrying about the origin of the “gifts,” nor about the identity, motivations, and intentions of those who come to its aid. But the conscientious person may feel “indebted,” suffer from being in the position of debtor, and, in order not to experience it as a painful humiliation, want to repay as quickly as possible, in other words, to return to a “logic of giving” in which exchange restores parity.

But isn’t this forgetting the “grace” that resides in gratitude? If this puts me to the test, it is not because it puts me in debt, but because it cracks the armor of pride with which I surround myself to feel strong on my own and invulnerable, and which, in fact, is only a paper armor, a lure, an illusion – for no human being is autonomous and self-sufficient, none can be without others, without a life received, a language received, an education received, a culture received… When the armor falls to pieces, we realize that, literally, gratitude is a receipt, a “certificate” which attests that the sale and the purchase have indeed taken place, that the bill has indeed been paid – that I have received as a gift the ability to become a human being from other human beings, that I have received the capacity to do good from other human beings, who have already done it when I was still incapable of it. The logic of exchange creates symmetry. Evil, likewise, is akin to revenge—which, moreover, perpetuates it, with ever-greater evil constantly responding to the evil suffered. Gratitude, on the other hand, creates a relationship that Catherine Chalier described as “asymmetrical”: to be grateful is always to respond to an action done for my benefit, but this response nonetheless awakens my conscience, which, though certainly stirred by others, can then “see” that good can be done since it has already been done. Ingratitude interrupts moral action like a refusal, provokes disappointment and regret, and causes the giver’s good intention to retract like a snail’s horn, thus allowing evil to resume its destructive cycles. Gratitude, on the contrary, leaves the path open to good, allowing moral action to continue, “gracious,” gratuitous, and never finished. Strictly speaking, gratitude requires nothing in return—what could one give back to the God who created us, to the parents who raised us, to the teachers who trained us, to those we loved, who loved us, and who are no longer with us?—but through grace, it restores and reveals to all the beauty contained and radiated by an act of altruism.

Robert Maggiori