Creativity Research Journal Copyright 2003 by

2003, Vol. 15, No. 1, 91–105 Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc.

Creativity in the Moral Domain: Integration and Implications

Mark A. Runco
California State University, Fullerton, and the University of Hawaii, Hilo
Jill Nemiro
Claremont Graduate School

ABSTRACT: Specific domains of talent have been
increasingly recognized by educators. Howard Gru-
ber has done a great deal to direct attention to what
may be the most critical domain, namely, moral cre-
ativity. The intent of this article is to honor Gruber’s
genius in our own humble fashion, by reviewing and
integrating the recent work on moral creativity. Spe-
cial attention is directed to points of agreement
found in the literature to implications for studies of
creativity and education. This is not merely a review,
however; we make every effort to compare and con-
trast the various theories and highlight the contro-
versies in this area. One of the more surprising con-
troversies involves the concept of adaptation, which
is often associated with creativity and would seem to
have great potential for addressing creativity in the
moral domain and the resolution of moral dilemmas.
We also explore the arguable theories that writing is
the more useful domain for the resolution of creative
dilemmas, that art for art’s sake is ethical, and that
general knowledge should be targeted in moral edu-
cation. We begin and end with the question, Why is
creativity in the moral domain more important now
than ever before?
One of the most significant and useful of the concep-
tual breakthroughs in creative studies is that of
domain specificity. Albert (1980), for example, initi-
ated a longitudinal study of two groups of excep-
tional boys, each representing a different kind of
ability; Gardner (1983) described the unique devel-
opmental histories of symbolic, logical, bodily, mu-
sical, spatial, intrapersonal, and interpersonal poten-
tials; and Runco (1987) demonstrated empirically
how gifted children might perform creatively in one
area but unremarkably in others. Howard Gruber has
done all of us a great service by directing attention to
what may be the most important domain. This is the
moral domain.
Why look to creativity in the moral domain, and
why now? Several answers to these questions have re-
cently been proposed; the intent of this article is to re-
view those answers and to integrate them with the ex-
isting creativity literature, with special attention
given to points of agreement and implications for
studies of creativity and education. This is not merely
a review, however; we make every effort to compare
and contrast the various theories and highlight the
controversies in this area. One of the more surprising
controversies involves the concept of adaptation,
which is often associated with creativity and would
seem to have great potential for addressing creativity
in the moral domain and the resolution of moral
dilemmas. There are, however, often-overlooked lim-
its to the applicability of adaptation. We also explore
the arguable theories that writing is the more useful
domain for the resolution of creative dilemmas, that
art for art’s sake is ethical, and that general knowl-
edge should be targeted in moral education. First we
address the question mentioned previously: Why is
creativity in the moral domain more important now
than ever before?
Geir Kaufmann served as the Action Editor for this article. The au-
thors wish to express their appreciation to Abraham Tannenbaum for
comments on early drafts of this article.
Correspondence and requests for reprints should be sent to Mark
Runco, Department of Child Development, EC 105, California State
University–Fullerton, PO Box 6868, Fullerton, CA 92834–6868.
E-mail: runco@exchange.fullerton.edu

Creativity Research Journal 91

M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
The Need for Creative Morality
The reasons for devoting attention to creativity in
the moral domain are related to both individual growth
and societal well-being. Stein (1993), for example, ar-
gued that recent technological advances have brought
us to a point where many societal and scientific prob-
lems can only be solved with creative efforts. He de-
scribed advances in organ transplants and bioengi-
neering (cloning) as illustrating the need for linking
morality and creativity, and he claimed that “we may
be on the brink of a conflict in which we must master
technology or technology masters us . . . [we need
specific] guidelines to solve the countless moral
dilemmas we are bound to encounter” (p. 200).
McLaren (1993) also looked to science and tech-
nology, describing dilemmas arising from progress in
new methods of surgery, transplants, DNA research,
and atomic energy, which have clarified the need for
creative morality. McLaren suggested that so-called
advances often “haunt those who are concerned for
environmental integrity, and even the continued exis-
tence of life on earth” (p. 141). He noted that when
one problem is solved, a new problem is frequently
created.
McLaren (1993) extended this argument in his de-
scription of “the dark side of creativity” (p. 137). He
cited Plato in this regard, and the idea that “artists”
were seen as a “threat to the integrity of the mind and
spirit . . . [because] creativity apart from moral con-
cern loses its soul” (pp. 138–139). In The Republic,
Plato emphasized that creativity “must always have
rationality as its goal, so that pleasure, to be accept-
able, must be judged in terms of its moral quality”
(p. 138). McLaren applied this reasoning to creative
accomplishment. In his words, “if we are to be honest
in our quest for understanding creativity, we cannot
evade acknowledging that, like all human endeavors,
it too has its dark and even, to use Plato’s word, its
daemonic side” (p. 137).
The existence of this “dark side” highlights the
need to carefully consider possible bridges between
morality and creativity. As McLaren (1993) sug-
gested, if we are naive about the dark side of creativ-
ity, we court disaster. In his own words, creativity
should be
at the service of human survival. . . . Now we must organize
on a global scale, though it will require a mobilization of
political will, international cooperation, and sacrifice sel-
92
dom thought of by those whose reflections on creativity
have as their frame of reference the artist’s studio, the con-
cert hall, or the quiet groves of literary contemplation. Oth-
erwise the dark side will prevail, and we will have “created”
for ourselves our own oblivion. (p. 143)
There is, then, an obvious need for creativity in the
moral domain—especially if you assume that creativ-
ity is a kind of problem solving,1 and if you feel that
the world has an ever-increasing supply of pressing
problems. The question then becomes, How can we en-
sure that creativity is at the service of human survival?
Intermediaries and Social Processes
It would no doubt help if we paid more attention to
social dynamics and what Stein (1993) called interme-
diaries in the creative process. Intermediaries are per-
sons who “play supportive and gatekeeping roles be-
tween the creative individual and the public” (p. 197).
Intermediaries for artists share problems and supply
emotional and financial support. Outside the arts, inter-
mediaries include peer review committees, profes-
sional publications and societies, foundations, govern-
mental agencies that grant funds, critics, and the press
and media. Intermediaries often help to maintain moral
standards, being in a position to “uphold the ethical
and moral standards of their science and profession”
(p. 197). (Later we will extrapolate and suggest that
educators can be considered intermediaries in the
moral and creative development of their students. They
certainly should consider their responsibility as an in-
terpreter and guide of society’s values.)
Stein (1993) offered two examples to illustrate how
intermediaries have been called on to maintain moral
standards in creative endeavors. One example con-
cerned specific professional societies that were trying
to monitor the exchanges occurring between ethno-
botanists and persons in Third World countries from
whom they profited. The second example illustrates
how the New England Journal of Medicine was con-
1
This assumption has been questioned, especially by those who
focus on the creativity of artists (Dudek & Cote, 1994). The creativ-
ity of artists is easily interpreted as self-expression more than prob-
lem solving, though obviously artists might be solving problems as
they work to capture what they wish or need to express. The debate
seems to hinge on one’s definition of problem (for a review, see
Runco, 1994b).
Creativity Research Journal

fronted with the decision of whether to publish Nazi
research on hypothermia. The editors took a moral
stand and refused to publish this research, stating, “the
Journal has taken the position that it will not publish
reports of unethical research, regardless of their scien-
tific merit. . . . Knowledge, although important may
be less important to a decent society than the way it is
obtained” (Angell, 1990, pp. 1463–1464). This sug-
gests that intermediaries serve not only as emotional
and financial supporters to creative individuals, but
also as interpreters, contributors, and protectors of so-
ciety’s values. They clarify “for the society the func-
tion and role of its science and teaches the society how
its contribution should be regarded and evaluated”
(Stein, 1993, p. 200). The Nazi issue suggests that cre-
ative efforts must be evaluated in terms of their poten-
tial effects, in terms of their background, and in terms
of their intentionality.
Intentionality is without a doubt one of the key
concepts in studies of creative morality (Gruber, 1985,
1993; Haste, 1993; Runco, 1993a, 1993b).2 Haste was
aware of this when she defined moral creativity in terms
of three components—vision, efficacy, and responsibil-
ity. The last of these is entirely compatible with inten-
tions, though Haste put it in the context of outcomes
and described how, because of vision and efficacy, an
individual is personally moved to moral action. Vision
refers to an ability to look beyond convention, and ef-
ficacy refers to an individual’s awareness that he or
she could act alone or with others on some important
issue. These three components characterize individu-
als who are “perceived as acting with moral responsi-
bility or commitment” (p. 2). As an illustration, Haste
predicted that most individuals who see a child who is
deprived, hungry, or suffering would feel compelled to
give financial support or call a child protection
2
Appropriateness is also related to both morality and creativity.
Moral conventions define what is appropriate behavior, for exam-
ple, and most definitions of creativity mention some sort of appro-
priateness (e.g., fit, social value, adequacy) in addition to originality
or novelty (Rothenberg & Hausman, 1976; Runco & Charles,
1993). The difficulty arises because creative solutions to moral
problems may be viewed as inappropriate by some standards or cri-
teria. Consider in this regard the fasting by UCLA students in 1993
as a means for urging the administration to develop a Hispanic stud-
ies department. It would seem that creativity, appropriateness, and
morality are each relativistic concepts (Runco, 1993b, p. 24),
though Johnson (1993) described several qualifications to such a
view of morality.
Creativity Research Journal
Creativity in the Moral Domain
agency. However, an individual utilizing a broader vi-
sion might see this child as an indication of a larger
social problem and attempt to tackle the problem at its
source. In Haste’s view, a truly morally creative act
must involve an “unusual vision of the moral serious-
ness of the situation” and fuel “the individual’s own
sense of efficacy and personal responsibility” (p. 3).
Vision is thus not sufficient, or in Haste’s own words,
“it is not enough to have the inspiration or insight if
one does not have the psychological equipment to
carry through to performance” (p. 2). This description
makes it easy to tie responsibility (and intentions) to
creativity, for creativity is often explained in terms of
inspiration or insight (see Gruber, 1981; Wallace,
1991; Weisberg, 1993), but what good is an idea or in-
sight unless it is somehow used?
Runco (1993b) also argued that intentions are criti-
cal for creative morality, and he suggested that inten-
tionality is more important than other dimensions that
often attract more attention in the creativity literature,
such as conformity and conventionality. Creativity is
often associated with “nonconformity, rebelliousness,
and unconventional tendencies,” whereas morality is
thought to involve “traditional, dogmatic, and conven-
tional tendencies” (p. 17), but this distinction implies
that morality and creativity are contradictory and oxy-
moronic, or at least opposite ends of the continuum of
conventionality. However, Runco argued that creativity
is not entirely unconventional. Rules, procedures, and
traditions are important in many artistic domains, for
instance, and morality is not always conventional.
Runco cited examples of original and useful work that
extended the existing order (rather than breaking it)
and the view that morality is always conventional, cit-
ing Gandhi, Confucius, Mohammed, and Jesus as
moral rebels. The exemplars described by Colby and
Damon (1992), Gardner (1993a), and Piechowski
(1993) demonstrate unconventional morality. The
problem is, then, that an either/or relationship is too
often assumed, with individuals possessing either con-
ventionality or nonconventionality. When creativity is
viewed as unconventional, there is a tendency to ignore
the fact that creative performance can be conventional
and involve rules and fixed procedures. The realistic
view has creativity and morality representing two dif-
ferent continua. In this view, an individual could utilize
both creativity and morality to solve ethical dilemmas.
What limited empirical evidence exists seems to be
consistent with the idea of separate continua. Andreani
93
M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
and Pagnin (1993), for example, found that tests of cre-
ative potential were not correlated with tests of moral
reasoning. Admittedly, as Gruber (1993) pointed out,
when two variables do not correlate with one another,
it does not indicate that one has nothing to do with the
other. It only indicates that variations in one did not
correlate with variations in the other. As Gruber put it,
“any individual—or social group—must still work out
a coherent and adaptive way of using all of his or her or
their capabilities, correlated or not” (p. 6).
Are creativity and morality necessarily inten-
tional? Gruber (1993) seemed to think so, with his
claim that “ought implies can implies create” (p. 3).
The idea here is that when something ought to be
done and, further, it can be done, then “a moral im-
perative arises, we must do it” (p. 3). Piaget seemed
to believe that intentions are important for morality
when he distinguished subjective moral reasoning
and objective moral reasoning. The primary differ-
ence is that the former takes intentions into account.
With respect to creativity, Wolf and Larson (1981)
suggested that children’s behavior must be intentional
and cannot be spontaneous or accidental to be classi-
fied as creative. In fact, they argued that the sponta-
neous behaviors of children, which frequently appear
to adults to be creative, are actually slightly inappro-
priate or even bizarre behaviors that are simply unex-
pected by mature persons. Another part of the creativ-
ity research that is very pertinent to this issue of
intentionality focuses on motivation and the possibil-
ity of creating art for art’s sake.
Art for Art’s Sake
Runco (1993b) quoted a number of artists (e.g.,
Ayn Rand, Albert Camus, Ezra Pound, Mark Twain)
who clearly intended to convey their thoughts on
morality through their art. This intention is incompati-
ble with the position that art is an end in itself. Dudek
(1993) emphasized the latter view—of art for art’s
sake—when she described transgressive art. This was
defined as work that breaks boundaries and presents
“an image of . . . degradation, chaos, and ugliness.”
What is most relevant is Dudek’s proposition that “a
basic moral principle is that all persons treat each
other as ends and never as means” (p. 145). This leads
to the idea that worthy art is true to the work itself as
an end, never as a means. Dudek concluded that 20th-
94
century art, “for all its transgressive drive, is intrinsi-
cally moral, as all great art always is” (p. 145).
Family (1993) seemed to think that artists should
make systematic efforts and intentionally apply their
skills. She called on the artist to take a leadership role
in bringing about changes for the benefit of this planet
and to assist in the return to equilibrium. For Family,
artists are ideal leaders for creativity in the moral do-
main because they are not likely to be tied to conflict-
ing business interests. Family wrote that the artist’s
work should
incite enough pride and joy as well as openness of spirit, so
as to mobilize the confidence and assertiveness needed for
art to assume leadership and show people the possibility of
liberating their inner resources from the materialistic con-
sumerism and competitiveness and orienting them to coop-
eration and spiritual growth. Since the artist may be the per-
son farthest removed from the utility functions in society
(such as being the owner of a polluting manufacturing busi-
ness), he or she is the best person to do this. (p. 86)
Family (1993) described Leonardo da Vinci as a
concrete example of an artist who assumed the role of
moral leadership. Da Vinci was responsible, through
his art, for leading the world into a new age, the Re-
naissance, which stood for freedom from the church
and stressed both individualism and the dignity of hu-
mankind.
Many studies of artistic personalities show that
they tend toward individuality and nonconformity (Al-
bert & Runco, 1989; Crutchfield, 1962), and this
might be taken as support for Family’s (1993) choice
of artists as leaders. Alternatively, it might imply that
artists will not be all that eager to take on roles that re-
quire leadership. Perhaps because of this second pos-
sibility, Family implored artists to see the ultimate
goal of their work as a means of achieving happiness
without regret. She wrote, “the ultimate purpose of art
is that it be enjoyed. . . . Beauty and joy are a function
of art and that is what we need in the world today”
(pp. 86–87). She thus saw the artist as crucial in creat-
ing a fundamental reorientation toward the human
value of enhancement of happiness, a happiness with-
out a regrettable side. Artists are the best individuals
to accomplish this reorientation because
if there is a clear example of enjoyment without spoilage,
pollution, exploitation, and debt, it is the enjoyment of art.
And with the help of modern communication technology,
the artist is no longer the isolated, powerless, and poor non-
conformist, but together, all artists represent a powerful
Creativity Research Journal

influence on public thought. It is from this power that
derives the moral responsibility of the artist. (p. 84)
Studies of aesthetics and judgment suggest that art
has impact at least in part because it creates a catharsis
through which a viewer can identify and empathize.
That should allow art to communicate human values
and norms to members of society.
Like Family (1993), McLaren (1993) held high
hopes for artists. He felt that the artist, rather than the
politician or military, “enjoys a higher esteem as a
noble measure of accomplishment than the military
genius which is measured by the extent of destruction,
or political savvy measured by the number of failed
opponents, or economic prowess counted in dollars”
(p. 85). McLaren also criticized “art for art’s sake.”
Thus both McLaren and Family hold views that are in
contrast to that of Dudek (1993), outlined earlier. Re-
call that Dudek claimed that art for its own sake (as an
end) is intrinsically moral and suggested that the true
artist never takes an official stand. Rather, in her eyes,
the artist’s responsibility is to view and portray truth-
fully the world as it actually is. Dudek wrote, “If the
world must end the artist has at least decided to see it
as it is—and in the face of it to let out a full, heart-
rending howl: That howl we see in all the transgres-
sive arts of our time and our place” (p. 146). For
Dudek, this truthful portrayal of the world is one of
the most powerful moral activities in contemporary
society. Dudek described how this portrayal can assist
in the development of moral action in others.
Art is by its nature a symbol system which must inevitably
carry a message (nothing is without some meaning). By its
novelty and freshness it effects a new presentation of the
world as constructed by the consciousness of the artist. It is
therefore an attempted communication, a concretized
thought, and as such a message, it may change the vision or
the ideas about the world as currently experienced. Novel
and original art will by its nature not uphold the “state” but
is more likely to effect some change in it, if not completely
undermine it. . . . Art can be interpreted as acting in the ser-
vice of human growth and welfare and is therefore moral in
the highest sense of the term. (p. 147)
Schwebel (1993) seemed to think that intentions
are very important when he defined moral creativity as
“the conscious transformation of moral values and
their associated affect into artistic products” (p. 68).
Unlike those already discussed, however, he focused
on the content of artistic revolutions rather than
method. He stated that moral creativity in the arts is
Creativity Research Journal
Creativity in the Moral Domain
defined more by what artists express rather than how.
Schwebel cited Picasso’s Guernica as an example of
such conscious moral communication. The agony of
war and a vision of doom were portrayed for viewers
to share and experience. Schwebel wrote this of Pi-
casso’s Guernica:
Confronting his own abhorrence of this first demonstration
of the use of saturation bombing to terrorize and destroy
civilians, he did not vocalize his condemnation through lec-
ture or give vent to his feelings through preachment, nor did
he suppress them as something alien to the work of the
artist. Instead, through his own language, he transformed his
own cognitive and affective experience into symbols that
others could identify with and thus gave the world an appre-
ciation of what fascism, unchecked, had in store for
humankind. (p. 68)
For Schwebel, when the old way of thinking mani-
fested in normative art is no longer effective for new
issues or challenges, artists are propelled into new so-
lutions. This is one impetus for moral creativity.3 In
this sense, his view is not all that different from the
boundary breaking of transgressive art (Dudek, 1993).
Significantly, Schwebel (1993) suggested that an
artist’s past experiences, values, and personality con-
tributed to his or her interpretation, emotional experi-
ence, and reaction to societal problems. They also de-
termined whether or not he or she engaged in morally
creative artistic endeavors. The artist’s past experience
determined whether or not an external dilemma led to
moral creative behavior, a safer outlet, or denial and
suppression and thus lack of awareness of a moral
dilemma. Schwebel presented a model of moral cre-
ative development in which the artist progressed from
no awareness (of a moral issue), to awareness on first
an interpersonal and then intrapersonal level. As a re-
sult of this awareness, the artist either began to recog-
nize and express some of the moral conflicts or denied
and thus suppressed this awareness. If this awareness
was not denied, reflection led to artistic expression in-
tegrating the human experience at the intrapsychic, in-
terpersonal, and social levels.
An artist who has wide experience and has re-
flected on the meaning or art follows one of three
3
Interestingly, Schwebel (1993) noted that time plays a different
role in scientific versus artistic revolutions. In science, once a dis-
covery is made and verified, the revolution is complete. In art, revo-
lution is never complete. Because artistic revolutions are never com-
plete, new issues and thus new revolutions arise.
95
M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
courses: “(a) full integration at the conscious and un-
conscious levels of experience of using one’s creative
powers in the moral domain; (b) full integration at the
conscious and unconscious levels of experience of
using one’s creative powers for pure art, perhaps
achieving aesthetic refinements of dehumanized ab-
stractions; or (c) after suffering the consequences . . .
retreat from a consciousness of moral creativity to
focus on the interpersonal and intrapsychic” (p. 71). In
some sense, these stages parallel those contained in Pi-
aget’s (1976) theory of cognitive development and in
Kohlberg’s (1987) theory of moral development. With
each new stage, the artist experiences moral dilemmas
more deeply, comprehensively, and abstractly.
In the development of moral creativity, individuals
may reach different levels at different times, ranging
from alienation to social consciousness. Schwebel
(1993) suggested that “the alienated artists—they of
the empty selves or hyperreflexive consciousness—by
the nature of their inclinations deny themselves the op-
portunity for moral creativity through artistic transfor-
mation” (p. 78). Schwebel acknowledged that artists
vary in the degree to which they communicate moral
values in their art. This variation occurs because of
(a) the nature of the artist’s personal development;
(b) the artist’s understanding of the broader social con-
text; and (c) the artist’s reaction to a violation of moral
values (Does the artist articulate his or her values
through his art, or is the artist afraid to make a moral
stand?). Artists may react to moral dilemmas and be
moral but not morally creative. To incorporate one’s re-
action into one’s art and send those values to the viewer
is the gage specifically of moral creative behavior.
Outside the Arts
Several other theories emphasize personal and sub-
jective experiences and their role in creative work.
Miller and Karl (1993), for example, examined the
role of religious language in individual and social
change. They suggested that an individual needs to
learn to take the risks that may be necessary for moral
action. In their view, religious language can function
as a transitional object (cf. Winnicott, 1971), allowing
an individual to stay connected to his or her parents or
origins while taking risks. Just as a child who tries to
go away from his or her parents and then turns to see if
they are still there, adults may have a need for connec-
96
tion and security when considering change. Religious
language as a transitional object allows adults to re-
main connected to a familiar base while taking risks.
This ability to establish and maintain a relational
focus with a transitional object facilitates creative
adaptation in the world. Miller and Karl wrote, “We
are suggesting that religious language, by offering
ready access to a sense of continuity, at times facili-
tates movement, change, and creative resolution of
conflict” (p. 109).
Various examples of the transitional nature of reli-
gious language were described in various religious
contexts. In addressing the familiar words that accom-
pany the Catholic confession, Miller and Karl (1993)
wrote, “These and other similar statements point to
the way in which the ritual words allow a depth of ex-
perience, and particularly a taking of risks, in relation
to one’s self and to one’s moral dilemmas” (p. 103).
Ritual union songs and songs of political struggle
(such as those sung by the marchers in the civil rights
movement), were also characterized as transitional ob-
jects and providing assistance in change by establish-
ing a connection with those who had struggled in the
past. In the words of Miller and Karl, “There are times
when the inspiration needed, which is provided by the
transitional object, is simply the courage to go on.
. . . These children sang songs—on the picket line,
and as they were taken off to jail—to help them feel
the presence of their parents” (pp. 106–107).
In sum, one link between creativity and morality
lies in the use of a transitional object, such as religious
language, to assist the individual in maintaining a fa-
miliar connection while taking the risk to creatively
solve moral dilemmas.
Moving from religion to hard science, Goswami
(1993) used quantum theory to illustrate the possible
contribution of physics to ethics, morality, and values.
He suggested that the creative freedom fundamental in
ethics is also fundamental in quantum physics. He de-
scribed how in physics, the creation of a double-bind
doubt state occurs when two competing situations are
presented. The resolution occurs not through a flip of
a coin, but through creativity. Doubt may arise from
that fact that there is no logical solution. Goswami
suggested that the same holds true of moral dilemmas.
He wrote,
When logic is insufficient to reach an ethical answer, it can
only be reached by a creative quantum leap. Even when
logic can be stretched to reach a parsimonious solution, a
Creativity Research Journal

creative approach often yields a richer solution that actually
revolutionizes the context of the problem itself. Ethics in its
essence seems to involve inner creativity, an encounter with
our quantum self with the idea of transformation firmly
established in our minds. . . . We avoid preconceived
answers; creativity is the goal. To remain open to more
expansive possibilities without automatically (e.g., as an act
of classical conditioning) taking the shortcut of a precon-
ceived ethical formula is what empowers people occasional-
ly to find “miraculous” solutions. (p. 195)
Individual Cases
Much of what we know about the interplay of cre-
ativity and morality comes from case studies (Ben-
choam, 1993; Colby & Damon, 1992; Gardner,
1993b; Piechowski, 1993). Admittedly, these have bi-
ases (Runco, 1993c), but they are suggestive, rich and
in depth, and at the very least suggest hypotheses that
can be tested. Consider Benchoam’s report of her ex-
periences in a life-threatening condition—being a
prisoner of war. In 1977, when she was only 16, mem-
bers of the First Army Corps of Buenos Aires came to
her home, killed her 17-year-old brother, and took her
as a political prisoner, where she remained for 4 1/2
years. In order to survive, she developed many psy-
chological strategies, and creative activity was pri-
mary among them. In the 7 years following her re-
lease, she developed a model of five phases of moral
consciousness that she felt she passed through during
the time as a political prisoner. These phases can be
summarized as (a) socialization with the environment
and culture (knowledge); (b) awareness of the self and
of others as part of the world (comprehension); (c)
awareness of self as having the power to change the
state of affairs through spontaneous creative acts
(analysis, reflection, confrontation, and experimenta-
tion); (d) consolidation of one’s personal values with
those of the majority, and refinement of one’s personal
creative style (reflection, application, and beginning
stage of synthesis); and (e) creation of work that ex-
presses moral responsibility (synthesis, application,
and re-evaluation), and a return to Phase 1, to repeat
the process at a higher level.
During the first three phases, individuals form
moral responsibilities and become aware of their cre-
ative capacity. Spontaneous experimentation often
questions the status quo. A period of introspection and
reflection characterizes Phase 4, and in Phase 5, cre-
ative works with moral content are created, “which
Creativity Research Journal
Creativity in the Moral Domain
can only occur through maturation and the awareness
of the individual as part of humanity” (Benchoam,
1993, p. 113). Again, a Piagetian assumption is appar-
ent, because Benchoam’s cycle ends with a return to
Phase 1, though now at a higher level of moral reason-
ing and creative ability, in which awareness spreads to
new arenas.
The moral obligation for Benchoam as a political
prisoner was “to preserve the physical and psycholog-
ical integrity of the self” (Benchoam, 1993, p. 113).
To achieve this, Benchoam relied heavily on creative
activity. She described how
art became a necessity for me in my functioning as a human
being because it provided me with a calm environment, that
of the inner self. Both of these enterprises—my human-
rights commitment and the arts—have shaped my life and
given meaning to my existence. . . . The constant interaction
of both enterprises has served as a source of refuge and
protest at different stages of my life. (pp. 116–117)
The creation of art with a moral content thus served
as a survival strategy. It allowed freedom in an envi-
ronment of total governmental control. Part of the ef-
fect may have been escapism. Through the creation of
art, Benchoam could place herself in “the outside
world.” Again quoting Benchoam (1993),
Would my attempts to reconstruct the beauty of the outside
world keep me from insanity and help me to regain self-
control under those extreme conditions? At first I did not
have the answer, but later I realized that creative action of an
active mind was indeed what made a great deal of difference
in my psychological states, and that my moral responsibility
was to maintain my humanity under such conditions. (p. 119)
During her imprisonment, Benchoam produced
two kinds of drawings—one in which she expressed
her feelings about the experience and surroundings,
the other in which she established a connection with
the outside world. Interestingly, these creative expres-
sions were so crucial to her preservation of self that
she (and other prisoners) continued to create despite
the fact that such creative actions were seen as a form
of resistance and prohibited.
Benchoam’s drawings (several of which are pub-
lished in a 1993 issue of Creativity Research Journal)
changed as she passed through the five phases of moral
consciousness. In phase 1, her drawings centered on
portraying elements of daily life. Drawings in the sec-
ond phase were used to divert her attention from the
jail conditions. In the third phase, she experimented
97
M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
and created drawings that expressed her feelings about
the conditions of jail. Drawings became more reflec-
tive in the fourth phase. Here, observation and analysis
were important before actually creating a drawing. Fi-
nally, in phase 5, drawings were “the concretizing on
paper and canvas of my thoughts” (Benchoam, 1993,
p. 123).
Benchoam’s (1993) theory was constructed from her
own experiences, which raises the question of general-
ity. In fact, similar concerns apply to all case studies
(Gardner, 1993b; Runco, 1993c). Often the question is
not one of the external validity of autobiography, as in
the case of Benchoam, but concerns generalizability:
When unambiguous cases of creative morality are stud-
ied, do findings apply to everyday cases?
Piechowski (1993) illustrated the development of
inner transformation with three case studies—Etty
Hillesum, a Dutch woman whose inner growth led her
to volunteer for deportation by the Nazis (Levels 3 and
4); Ashley, a university professor who kept a diary of
her moral inner struggle (Level 4); and the Peace Pil-
grim, a woman who covered 25,000 miles on foot,
propounding peace along the way (Level 5). Two prin-
ciples emerged in these individuals—nonseparate-
ness, in which individuals were not seen in isolation
but as a part of a larger whole; and inner peace as a
necessary condition for world peace.
Piechowski (1993) concluded that for self-actualiz-
ing and unambiguously ethical individuals, moral
truths may be entirely self-evident. After all, these in-
dividuals live with these truths, so perhaps there is less
creativity required for them to be meaningful. After
some debate, Piechowski concluded that “one could
consider the process of advanced inner growth as a
process of creating a new self. . . . If we can assume
that discovering a truth is a creative process, then dis-
covering one’s true self must be one too” (p. 89). Thus
Piechowski concluded that inner transformation is in-
deed a creative process.
Note Piechowski’s (1993) connecting inner moral
transformations to creativity via truth. He wrote,
What characterizes them is that they live moral truth. But
moral truth is achieved only as a result of advanced inner
transformation. Can one be creative in regard to moral truth?
These individuals engaged in an intense and deliberate
process of inner transformation which presented many indi-
vidual problems to be solved, for example, finding ways of
coping with emotional pain and tasks of self-discipline, free-
ing oneself from possessiveness and jealousy, practicing
98
harmlessness, finding ways of being of service in a selfless
way, and striving for greater acceptance of others and of
themselves. . . . But the principal task for Peace Pilgrim,
Etty, and Ashley, was to give a new meaning to their lives
and to discover their true selves. One could interpret this as
problem-finding in the intrapersonal domain: the self as the
object of discovery and creation. (p. 96)
Especially interesting in this argument is the recog-
nition of intentions, problem finding, and interper-
sonal ability. Intentions were discussed in detail ear-
lier. Runco (1993b) included problem finding in his
suggestions about creativity in the moral domain
(more on that later), and Gardner (1993b) had quite a
bit to say about the distinctiveness of intrapersonal
talents.
Like Benchoam (1993), Piechowski (1993) pre-
sented a stage model. He described the levels as fol-
lows: (a) Level 1, in which the main concern is with
oneself, one’s own protection and survival; (b) Level
2, in which there is a lack of inner direction, a sense of
inner fragmentation in which one is submissive to the
values of the group and in which the focus is on ful-
filling the expectations of others; (c) Level 3, in which
a person possesses moral concerns and a sense of the
ideal, but has not yet reached it, and in which moral
questions become important and are deeply felt;
(d) Level 4, which shows self-actualization, and in
which ideals and actions agree and one develops a
strong sense of responsibility; and (e) Level 5, which
is inspired by a powerful ideal such as equal rights,
world peace, or universal love. Importantly, Pie-
chowski’s cases were not artists. This may help gener-
alizations, at least to other nonartists.
Rappoport and Kren (1993) also focused on indi-
viduals outside the artistic domain. Their work is es-
pecially interesting because they found two individu-
als who performed moral actions without being
altruistic. More specifically, the two individuals were
altruistic at one point, but had histories lacking altru-
ism. This may seem contrary to assumptions about
special developmental backgrounds of moral exem-
plars. In fact, the personal histories suggested to Rap-
poport and Kren that their two cases were motivated
primarily by narcissism. Both individuals were active
in their protection of Jews during the Holocaust.
Much of the past literature on the Holocaust sug-
gests that rescuers were autonomous, self-reliant, had
strong moral values, and had a history of concern with
problems of the oppressed. Individuals involved in
Creativity Research Journal

rescue activities were thought to be good. Rappoport
and Kren (1993) attempted to explain the rescue activ-
ities of Oskar Schindler and Siegfried Jagendorf, two
amoral individuals who saved thousands of Jews from
death. Rappoport and Kren suggested that what
caused them to be involved in these rescue activities
was not their invisible altruism, but their narcissistic
personalities. In playing out savior roles, both
Schindler and Jagendorf “gained the ultimate narcis-
sistic gratification of high admiration and respect from
those they helped” (p. 135). This notion about narcis-
sism is interesting, particularly given Gardner’s
(1993a) argument that eminent creators are self-
promoters who often use other people.
Gardner (1993b) himself chose Mahatma Gandhi,
who had a long history of altruism and moral activ-
ity. (Gardner described Gandhi as precocious in the
moral domain.) Gardner argued for a focus on unam-
biguous cases, and he felt Gandhi was the “exemplar
par excellence in our time of creativity in the moral
domain” (p. 29). Gandhi’s moral creativity was
demonstrated through his work to mobilize others to
service and wider goals and his own creative solu-
tions to moral dilemmas. Gandhi’s most creative
moral solution may have been the invention of satya-
graha, a process of nonviolent resistance to injustice.
This process involved several stages, which included
efforts to persuade through discussion and reason;
persuasion through suffering (fasting); and as a last
resort, nonviolent coercion, noncooperation, or civil
disobedience. Instead of confrontation or violence,
“a proponent of satyagraha mobilized the reasons
and conscience of one’s opponent by inviting suffer-
ing on oneself. The satyagraha hoped thereby to
convert the opponent and make him a willing ally”
(p. 41).
A concrete example of Gandhi’s morally creative
solutions lies in the situation called “The Event,” a
labor dispute between textile workers and mill own-
ers. Gandhi first asked the workers to refrain from vi-
olence or begging. After Gandhi arrived at a solution
he felt was fair to both sides, he began a fast. After
three days of the fast, the mill owners were ready to
work to reach a settlement. The mill owners insisted
they would give no more than a 20% raise, whereas
workers wanted a 35% raise. Gandhi’s solution satis-
fied both parties. The workers received a 35% raise
one day, and a 20% the next day, and a perpetual in-
crease of 27 1/2% (the arithmetical compromise).
Creativity Research Journal
Creativity in the Moral Domain
Gardner (1993b) acknowledged the problems asso-
ciated with the singling out of one moment in
Gandhi’s life. Gardner put it this way:
On so many dimensions, Gandhi was a prototypically cre-
ative master. He was prototypical in his precocity in his cho-
sen (moral) domain; his obsessive search for opportunities
and his capacity to exploit them; his studied marginality; his
oscillation between attachments to the many and the need
for isolation; his essential selfishness; his Faustian ascetism;
and the persistence of many childlike features in his philos-
ophy and in his person. (p. 44)
Although not all children will reach the level of
moral responsibility attained by Gandhi, teachers and
parents probably can assist in the moral development
of all children by providing opportunities to develop
such interest and skills. Morality may be one of the
domains (such as philosophy or physics) that requires
huge investments and mature motivations. As Gardner
(1993b) cautioned,
There are certain domains of experience in which precocity
or prodigiousness can be readily recognized. Provided that
the society provides opportunities for the advancement of
young children, one is not surprised to learn of a child of 5
or 10 who is notably outstanding in numerical or mathemat-
ical power, in musical performance, in playing chess, or in
displaying mechanical or spatial prowess. When it comes to
an understanding of other persons, and an ability to deal
effectively with them, however, the markers are elusive.
Limitations in size, power, emotional breadth and subtlety,
worldly experience, and knowledge of motivation all serve
to limit the capacity of the young child to appear precocious
in the social, political, religious, or ethical realms. (p. 30)
Yet Gandhi’s parents saw his capacity for moral au-
thority and allowed him to function as a moral arbiter
between his parents and other elders. Fortunately for
Gandhi, his parents gave him the freedom to explore
social and ethical problems and develop his own re-
sponses. As Gardner (1993b) stated, “Gandhi had re-
peated opportunities to ‘test himself’ as a moral
agent” (p. 31).
We are encouraged by developmental histories such
as Gandhi’s and think they offer optimism for educa-
tors. Further encouragement is seen in the evidence
suggesting that developmental histories have an impact
on creativity (Albert & Runco, 1986; Runco & Charles,
1997) and on creative morality in particular (Ben-
choam, 1993; Schwebel, 1993). Apparently a great deal
can be done today for tomorrow’s morality. In the fol-
lowing section, we focus on possible educational goals.
99
M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
Education
Benchoam (1993) suggested that educators should
reinforce children’s exploration of moral issues by not
quelling their “activistic” actions. From an early age,
she herself was involved in activist activities (as well
as art). Benchoam wrote: “My mother and a sixth
grade history teacher provided greater meaning for my
activism by encouraging the involvement of young
children and adolescents in the making of policies
which affected us as students” (p. 115). Benchoam
also suggested that facilitating general cognitive de-
velopment will help creative morality, and that educa-
tors should take special care to reinforce feelings of
self-efficacy. As noted earlier, the individual must
view him- or herself as capable of effecting change.
This is reinforced by what Haste (1993) suggested
about efficacy.
Although creativity and moral perspective no doubt
will benefit from a large knowledge base, there may
be a question about the influence of general cognitive
development, given the lack of correlations reported
by Andreani and Pagnin (1993). Perhaps instead of a
general knowledge base, educators should target
metaphorical thinking skills. This is implied by John-
son’s (1993) theory that metaphorical thinking under-
lies moral imagination, and it is intimated by
Bronowski’s (1977, p. 12) theory of how and why in-
dividuals are connected with society. Bronowski
(1977) quoted William Blake in this regard:
A dog starv’d at his Master’s gate
Predicts the ruin of the State. (p. 12)
Blake apparently felt strongly about minute partic-
ulars, which included details about individuals that are
indicative of society, such as the “starv’d dog.”
Bronowski discussed this as a kind of metaphor, and
metaphoric skills could be targeted in the classroom,
although once again we should keep in mind Haste’s
(1993) example of “a child who is deprived, hungry,
or suffering” and how an awareness of social prob-
lems is not enough. Creative morality, in this view, re-
quires vision (which may come from metaphorical
reasoning) and responsibility.
Colby and Damon (1992) reported that the moral
exemplars in their studies “treasure the chance to take
[risks and hardships] on” (p. xii), and Benchoam
(1993) similarly argued that “moral responsibility and
its need for creative action . . . flourish where there is
100
a recurrent interaction with a conflictive environment”
(p. 112). From this we might infer that students are
challenged. That in turn indicates that educators
might use Kohlbergian dilemmas in the classroom
(see Duska & Whelan [1975] and Mattox [1975] for
classroom dilemmas). We will only add that this idea
should not be taken too far. Readers may know of
Goertzel and Goertzel’s (1962) findings about con-
flict in the family background of highly creative in-
dividuals (see Runco, 1994a, for a review). The
Goertzels were careful to avoid recommending the
systematic introduction of trauma, and the same con-
clusion no doubt applies to suggestions about hard-
ship and conflict (Runco, 1994a). Perhaps Kohlberg’s
(1987) dilemmas-as-exercises will be useful because
they challenge, but in an impersonal and nonthreaten-
ing fashion.
An assumption underlying the use of such dilemma
exercises is that of the value of problem solving. Re-
call Piechowski’s (1993) comment about problem
finding for moral reasoning. With this in mind, Runco
(1993a) asked that educators take care to include more
than problem solving in exercises that are given to stu-
dents. He pointed out that problem finding—which
represents a range of actions, including the identifica-
tion of problems and their definition—is critical for
creative thinking and may be particularly important in
the attainment of moral creativity. Moreover, problem
finding sets the stage for problem solving; a high-
quality problem probably has a high likelihood of a
high-quality solution.
Of course, problem finding by itself is also insuffi-
cient. As Runco (1993b) described it, “If an artist in-
tends to have a moral impact, he or she should define
problems in such a way as to facilitate their solution”
(p. 24). In other words, with moral issues, problem de-
finition is probably more important than problem
identification. You need to go beyond awareness of the
problem and actually suggest a direction for its solu-
tion. Educators should therefore use a particular kind
of problem-finding task—one that encourages stu-
dents to both identify the problem and a direction for
solution. Educators might use real-world moral dilem-
mas to encourage the development of problem defini-
tion and solution evaluation.
This brings up one of the controversial hypotheses,
alluded to early in this article. The hypothesis is that
creative writing has advantages over other creative
work. Runco (1993b) proposed that writing allows in-
Creativity Research Journal

dividuals to explore problems and potential solutions,
and to do so in great depth. The visual arts may not
allow the same informational depth, though of course
they might make up for it in the emotional reactions
they can elicit. Those emotional reactions might en-
sure that viewers or other consumers persist in their
efforts. The visual arts might thus make up in motiva-
tion what they lack in range of opportunity for explo-
ration and expression. This is one reason we men-
tioned the possibility of catharsis in the arts (also see
Csikszentmihalyi, 1988; Wakefield, 1994).
Haste (1993) evaluated two different educational
programs already in existence that emphasize moral
action. One is the National Curriculum Council
(NCC) program for citizenship education, and the sec-
ond is aimed at stimulating “green awareness” in
young people. The NCC program identified eight
components of citizenship, with an information and
action component to illustrate each. The Blue Peter
Green Book illustrates ways in which a child can both
help with conservation and care of the environment
and exercise influence on public offices. Twenty-eight
issues are covered. Each section contains an action
box with suggestions for acts to aid greenness and
campaign for change.
Recall here that Haste (1993) described the impor-
tance of vision and of taking what we called a broad
view. In a sense, Haste did this herself, noting a large
overlap between moral action and citizenship. She
suggested that children learning about citizenship via
a program similar to The Blue Peter Green Book have
a better chance at development of moral creativity
than those exposed to the NCC program. This is be-
cause the NCC program emphasizes education for
conformity to roles and community helpfulness,
whereas The Blue Peter Green Book emphasizes edu-
cation for confronting the system to effect change, or
what she called “full participatory democracy” (p. 10).
Further, The Blue Green Peter Book focuses on skills
in knowledge gathering and debate and discussion in
real-life contexts. Thus, children believe in their po-
tential to affect change. The NCC program used role
playing and more “safe” projects. This would imply
that to help develop moral creativity in children, they
must be involved in real-life actions in which they feel
their efforts do make a difference, and this is entirely
consistent with the trend in the creativity research to
utilize realistic and real-world exercises and assess-
ments (Renzulli, 1982; Runco & Chand, 1994).
Creativity Research Journal
Creativity in the Moral Domain
Haste (1993) offered the following guidelines for
educating for vision, efficacy, and responsibility: For
vision, “we need individuals to be able to question re-
ceived truths, to get below the surface of assumptions,
and to arrive at some understanding of principles”
(p. 10). A teacher can begin by recognizing moral cre-
ativity as a desirable characteristic. That may sound
obvious, but educators can value creativity in general
but not the specific components (e.g., autonomy) or
expressions (e.g., moral reasoning) of it. Moreover, as
Haste noted, often educators discuss historical figures
such as Florence Nightingale or Joan of Arc, but their
struggles and confrontations with authority are down-
played, and the virtues of patience and quiet determi-
nation are stressed. According to Haste, these em-
phases should be changed. Vision requires questioning
and confronting the status quo. Thus,
reducing the achievements of heroes and heroines to spuri-
ous or misleading virtues, or alternatively, using their stories
as dubious evidence that the democratic system eventually
allowed the desired changes to occur, is not going to lead to
an appreciation of the need for and operation of vision. Yet a
more accurate account of their real virtues, and the bloody
nature of their struggle, might engender vision. (p. 11)
Haste (1993) recommended involvement in com-
munity activities, classroom debates, and real-life ac-
tion for fostering efficacy. These suggestions are, of
course, consistent with Kohlberg’s (1987) ideas about
introducing dilemmas into the classroom (also see
Duska & Whelan, 1975; Mattox, 1975). Other evi-
dence for challenging the status quo was presented by
Benchoam (1993), Runco (1993b), and Stein (1993).
To assist in encouraging responsibility, teachers
must help children understand and be aware of the en-
emies of moral creativity, the pressures and dangers of
conformity placed on them through advertising and
media. Although schools have been reluctant to play
this role, Haste (1993) argued for teaching children
not only how their bodies work, but their minds as
well,
so that they can see the enemies of participatory democracy are
not just the “baddies” out there, but the perfectly normal work-
ings of ordinary social and cognitive life. . . . To effect both cit-
izenship and moral creativity, we must confront the darker side
of the system, and the darker side of the self. (p. 11)
Here, we see a parallel, on the individual level, of
McLaren’s (1993) theory of the dark side of creativity
(cf. Schmid, 1967).
101
M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
Schwebel (1993) was particularly concerned about
the elimination of art education programs that we are
currently experiencing in our school systems. He em-
phasized that “those who wish to encourage inner
freedom could support such programs of education in
the arts” (pp. 79–80). As further support, Schwebel
wrote
Society needs its artists to help its people understand what is
occurring two centuries after the American and French revo-
lutions. It needs them, for their creativity, but especially for
their moral creativity. A still life of a bountiful harvest, a
young love in Bohemia, a humorous set of couplets about
sex, clever repartee on stage about social customs—these
are all the good pleasures we humans enjoy, interpretations
of nature and social relations that give deeper meaning to
life. But if art is to serve humankind in the most essential
ways, it must also do what it has accomplished in some of its
greatest moments: interpret the underlying social struggles
for power—with all their social, political, racial, ethnic, and
sexual implications—that would otherwise be withheld
from public consciousness. (p. 80)
Those concerned that too much emphasis is being
placed on creative morality as problem solving may be
comforted by the suggestion that educational efforts
include the arts.
The same individuals may also be encouraged by
the focus on the development of the personality traits
that are associated with creative thinking. Richards
(1993) argued that the characteristics of creative per-
sons may give them an edge in pursuing moral respon-
sibility and awareness and should therefore be encour-
aged. The critical characteristics include “a sustained
cognitive–affective moral awareness, the courage and
confidence to act, and the vision to look outward to is-
sues on a species scale” (p. 180). Richards felt a moral
vision grew “out of individual empathetic concern on
an everyday level, to ultimately embrace universal
principles” (p. 180). This fits well with Haste’s (1993)
tripartite model and with Benchoam’s (1993) idea
about empathy for creative morality.
Educational efforts should encourage the good—
the arts and those important traits mentioned earlier—
but it should also eliminate the bad. To this end,
Richards (1993) identified the following areas of po-
tential blindness that limit an individual from honestly
appreciating societal problems:
• Time frames and contrasts: An individual reacts
to only sudden or major changes and overlooks
the gradual, perhaps more dangerous, situations.
102
In the words of Richards, “If it happens quick-
ly, we tend to catch it. But, if the scale is years,
then watch out, because it just might catch us”
(p. 168).
• False boundaries of fearfulness: It is hard for
individuals to comprehend dangers that they
cannot concretely imagine or have not person-
ally experienced. Slowly evolving dangers,
such as nuclear war or environmental deteriora-
tion, are examples of dangers to which one may
be blind.
• Restricted view of community: This refers to
seeing only the needs of one’s reference group,
not those of the species as a whole. Richards
felt it was crucial for individuals to get past
these narrow frameworks. Again quoting her,
our survival has become strongly dependent upon our com-
monalities as human beings, not on the differences between
each other as individuals and as members of narrow refer-
ence groups. We must seek to make all of humanity our
band. . . . We need not abandon our individual and group
identities and efforts, but instead need to supplement them
with a much broader consciousness, becoming more aware,
solicitous, and protective of our “species self.” (pp. 168–169)
• Psychic numbing: This involves the use of psy-
chological defenses such as denial to avoid
awareness of discomforting problems. When
individuals feel discomfort, they instigate
efforts to erase or eliminate it.
Richards (1993) argued that creative individuals
can assist in constructing a new vision because they
may have characteristics that make it easier for them
not to fall prey to the four major blindnesses. But
again, creative abilities alone do not guarantee that
creative individuals will, in fact, be motivated to take
on moral responsibility. To achieve moral responsibil-
ity, one must have a universal perspective, have an em-
pathic concern for others, and make a commitment
(Colby & Damon, 1992).
Escapism and avoidance should also be discour-
aged (Benchoam, 1993; Richards, 1993). As Richards
argued,
one dares to have a look, despite the difficulties this may
entail. . . . [An] adult faces an initial small problem and
takes a small creative risk. It is successful. The child rides
out the uncertainty, sees the result, gets a pat on the back
from a parent perhaps, and becomes aware of a tiny feeling
Creativity Research Journal

that is savored. The message for the future: “Examine the
situation—and then do something.” (p. 175)
Thus, a teacher can encourage a child to be morally
responsible by helping students become interperson-
ally aware, competent, and assertive, with a sense of
personal power and a valuing of peaceful and cooper-
ative solutions over those that are aggressive. Educa-
tors should work to discourage blindnesses and should
actively model and otherwise encourage an empa-
thetic and socially responsible style of living.
Discussion and Conclusions
Even in this fledgling area of study, there are points
of agreement and disagreement among theorists.
There is some question, for example, about the role of
intentions and the value of art for art’s sake (Dudek,
1993) and questions about the educational value of
general knowledge, in comparison to specific (e.g.,
metaphorical) skills. There were even questions about
the social and objective facets of moral creativity and
development.
Stein (1993) and Schwebel (1993) emphasized the
social, communicable aspects of creative morality.
These were also given great weight by other authors,
who suggested that creative morality is a matter of ac-
tual action and accomplishment. Haste (1993), for ex-
ample, seemed to think that something must get done
for it to be called moral, and that it wasn’t enough to
simply think or consider moral options. Similarly,
Richards (1993) said, “Examine the situation—and
then do something” (p. 175). Benchoam (1993) and
Piechowski (1993), in contrast, emphasized personal
and subjective aspects of creative morality. These lat-
ter views seem very important to us, and for the same
reasons subjective aspects of other kinds of creativity
seem to be important (Runco, 1993c). Perhaps most
important is that the personal facets may precede the
social. An individual must have an insight before he or
she can explore or share the idea or solution.
The personal side of creative morality was implied
in that the self was included in many theories. Self-
discipline, self-awareness, and self-actualization were
each emphasized. Creativity is also quite personal
(Runco, in press-b), but of course neither morality nor
creativity are self-centered. On the contrary. The theo-
ries reviewed in this article emphasize self in relation
Creativity Research Journal
Creativity in the Moral Domain
to culture and society. Creative morality involves a
clear sense of self—one in clear contact with social
and cultural context. This is striking in the case studies
of Colby and Damon (1992). They suggested that
moral endeavors may lead to the flow states described
earlier by Csikszentmihalyi (1990) and in particular to
the transcendence of self. This may explain why cer-
tain creative individuals are self-promoters (Gardner,
1993a). Perhaps what they accomplish and can even-
tually share in the larger social arena is dependent on
their first devoting time and energy entirely to them-
selves and their work.
The context of self is apparent in Benchoam’s
(1993) ideas about “the awareness of the individual as
part of humanity.” Similarly, Piechowski (1993) de-
scribed the nonseparateness of the individual, and
Richards (1993) described an “abstract [interpersonal]
relatedness and mutuality.” As Richards described it,
“helping may come increasingly to be viewed not just
as an aid for the other, the self, or one’s group, but for
the all-inclusive ‘us.’ Increasingly, then, one’s ‘band’
can become humanity and the viewpoint part of one’s
‘species self’ ” (p. 179).
Benchoam captured the personal and the social in
two different purposes for art:
On one hand, it is a relation with my inner self, like a love of
freedom, often illustrated in my work by representations of
nature, human solitude, and meditation. On the other hand, I
have used my art work as a means of communicating ideas to
people; usually some political or social concept. (1993)
A subtle but critical point of disagreement involves
the concept of adaptation. Numerous theorists have
tied creativity to adaptation (e.g., Cohen, 1989; Flach,
1990; Rothenberg & Sobel, 1980), the basic idea
being that creative thinking allows an individual to be
flexible, and that this flexibility in turn supplies op-
tions for effective coping. Not surprisingly, the adap-
tiveness of creative thinking is often used to justify its
role in resolving moral problems. Still, care must be
taken with the concept of adaptation. This is because
an individual—and society as a whole—might be too
adaptive, or at least too adaptive for creativity. This
would occur when an environment elicits stable and
thus unoriginal behaviors. An individual or society
might be too traditional to be creative, and yet fit well
into the immediate environment.
This view might seem to be incompatible with that
proposed by Gruber (1993) and Miller and Karl
103
M. A. Runco & J. Nemiro
(1993) and especially with Rothenberg and Sobel’s
(1980) position that “creativity is the highest form of
human adaptation” (p. 370). It is thus vital to keep in
mind that our species can consciously direct evolu-
tion. Richards (1993) referred to this as conscious
evolution and recommended that the schools, media,
and other institutions teach individuals “to circumvent
our perceptual limitations and distinguish what is still
‘natural’ in our evolution from what has now become
dangerous and needs to be altered” (p. 168).
Bronowski (1977), Ornstein and Ehrlich (1989), and
Runco (in press-a) also emphasized conscious evolu-
tion. Bruner (1965) put the issue very aptly when he
suggested that we must prepare our children “for the
unforeseeable future” (p. 115), and Stein (1993) was
quoted earlier in this article as suggesting that we
must “master technology or it will master us” (p. 199).
The adaptability supplied by creativity should allow
us to control our own fate and to cope with the unfore-
seeable future, but it must be consciously directed. It
must be, in Heinzen’s (1994) terms, proactive rather
than reactive creativity.
This is one reason we explored educational implica-
tions; education is a kind of proactive morality. And
importantly, many of the educational recommenda-
tions apply equally well to informal as well as formal
education (Benchoam, 1993; Piechowski, 1993;
Schwebel, 1993), and most apply well beyond child-
hood. In fact, many of the changes and insights re-
ported by the case studies took place well into adult-
hood. Consider also the behavior of Schindler and
Jagendorf (Rappoport & Kren, 1993). All this is quite
consistent with the idea of conscious evolution, though
here we apply that idea to ontogenic evolution, rather
than phylogenic evolution. Individuals can direct their
own development and do so in a creative and moral
fashion. What a wonderfully optimistic prospect.
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