A man always has two reasons for doing anything: a good reason

“A man always has two reasons for doing anything: a good reason and the real reason.” Thus spoke J. P. Morgan, the mighty banker and titan of industry whose will once steered the tides of American finance. His words, sharp and unflinching, pierce to the heart of human nature itself. For beneath the polished explanations we offer the world lies a deeper truth—the hidden motive that truly governs our choices. In this saying, Morgan does not condemn man’s duality; he simply unveils it. He reminds us that beneath every good reason lies the real reason, the one that whispers from the depths of the soul, unseen yet powerful.

The good reason is the story we tell—to others, and often to ourselves. It is the noble justification, the acceptable mask we wear in the theater of society. We say we act “for justice,” or “for love,” or “for principle,” yet within the chamber of the heart, another force may dwell—ambition, fear, pride, or desire. This is not hypocrisy so much as it is the complexity of being human. We wish to appear virtuous, even when our hearts are divided. The real reason is often less glorious, more vulnerable, more raw. But to know it, to face it honestly, is the first step toward wisdom and mastery of self.

J. P. Morgan himself was a man who lived at the crossroads of power and morality. He built empires of finance and rescued the American economy from ruin during crises when others trembled. Yet he understood that men—even great men—rarely act from pure principle. In business, as in life, motives are mixed. When he stabilized markets, did he do so for the good of the nation—or for the preservation of his own fortune and influence? Perhaps both. He knew that a man’s “good reason” often cloaks the “real reason,” and that to navigate power one must discern not only what is said, but what is truly meant. His quote is not cynicism—it is clarity.

History itself bears witness to this truth. Consider Julius Caesar, who declared that he crossed the Rubicon “to defend the honor of Rome.” That was his good reason. Yet his real reason was the hunger for dominion—the fire of ambition that would make him emperor. His vision for Rome was not false, but it was intertwined with self. This is the nature of all great actions: a mingling of public virtue and private desire. To deny it is to live in illusion; to acknowledge it is to begin the long path toward integrity.

In truth, every man is two men—the one he wishes to be, and the one he truly is. The wise do not flee from this duality; they study it. The real reason for our actions, when laid bare, reveals who we are beneath the veil. Some act out of love disguised as duty; others out of fear disguised as prudence. To know your real reason is to understand the forces that move your life. To deny it is to be ruled by it blindly. Morgan’s insight, then, is not merely about others—it is a mirror held before each of us, challenging us to confront our true motives.

But this truth is not meant to shame. It is meant to awaken. The goal is not to destroy the “good reason,” but to align it with the “real reason,” until what you desire and what you declare become one. The strongest leaders, the purest souls, are those whose outer purpose and inner motive move in harmony. When the mask and the man become the same, then integrity is born—and with it, power that cannot be corrupted.

Therefore, dear listener, seek honesty with yourself above all things. Ask not only “What do I want to do?” but “Why do I wish to do it?” Peel back the layers of pretense until you stand face to face with your truest intent. It may humble you—it may frighten you—but it will free you. The man who knows his real reason is master of himself; the one who hides from it remains a servant to his hidden desires.

The lesson is clear: Every deed has two faces—the one that looks outward and the one that looks within. The world may judge the first, but only you can confront the second. Live in such a way that your good reason and your real reason are one and the same. For only then can your actions be pure, your conscience quiet, and your power truly your own.