I have a hammer... (What makes something good?)

I have a hammer.  I am comfortable saying it is a "good" hammer. It has a weighty steel head, feels comfortable in my hand, and delivers considerable pressure to the head of a nail when I swing it. It could function as a paperweight, preventing the papers on my desk from blowing away, but it is slightly ugly and cumbersome for the purpose. It bothers me not at all that my hammer cannot perform complicated calculations. I don't consider that important in a hammer. It is - in my assessment - a "good" hammer. 

I have a HP19B calculator.  I am comfortable saying it is a "good" calculator. Its plastic keys are easy to press, but not so easy that a slip types by mistake. Its calculations are accurate, and the screen clearly displays the results. It could function as a paperweight to prevent the papers on my desk from blowing away, not while I'm using it, and only if the draft was mild (as its not very heavy). It bothers me not at all that my calculator would fracture into numerous pieces were I to swing it at the head of a nail (and thereafter never perform another calculation!). I don't consider that important in a calculator. The HP19B is - in my assessment - a "good" calculator. 

It seems to me that to say that my hammer, my calculator or anything else are "good" it is necessary to connect and measure them in some way against a purpose. With my hammer that's clear enough. Whether the purpose associated with my hammer is an objective fact, or whether we are all expected to subjectively agree (perhaps after experiencing the satisfaction of swinging it at a nail), we can probably agree on its purpose. 

For my hammer, calculator (or paperweight for that matter) their purpose is not controversial. But when we enter the realm of people and relationships such assessments becomes more complicated…

I have a friend called Ben. Although he is quite “hard” it would be no good using him to knock in a nail (unless I lent him my hammer!). Ben could serve as a paperweight, but he would likely get bored, plus with Ben sitting on my desk there wouldn’t be much room left to work. Ben’s mental arithmetic is pretty good, but I couldn’t trust it for very complicated calculations.

Is Ben a “good” friend? Or even a “good” human being?!  What does it even mean to ask those kinds of questions?  

Surely to say anything about Ben (or myself or anyone else) I need be able to say with confidence what life and friendship are for… What the purpose of being human is… That’s tougher to agree on than my hammer.  

For an employee,between from nine to five the existence of a job description provides the "purpose" against which we can assess an employee as "good" or not.. But where might we find the "job description" for life? For friendship?

Perhaps we use words like “good” a little too unthinkingly…

Or perhaps we need to think harder about the purpose of things…