Seneca, On the Happy Life 8: Discerning the Highest Good

Our highest good may also be defined otherwise, that is to say, the same idea may be expressed in different language. Just as the same army may at one time be extended more widely, at another contracted into a smaller compass, and may either be curved towards the wings by a depression in the line of the center, or drawn up in a straight line, while, in whatever figure it be arrayed, its strength and loyalty remain unchanged; so also our definition of the highest good may in some cases be expressed diffusely and at great length, while in others it is put into a short and concise form.

Thus, it will come to the same thing, if I say "The highest good is a mind which despises the accidents of fortune, and takes pleasure in virtue.” Or "It is an unconquerable strength of mind, knowing the world well, gentle in its dealings, showing great courtesy and consideration for those with whom it is brought into contact."

Or we may choose to define it by calling that man happy who knows good and bad only in the form of good or bad minds, who worships honor, and is satisfied with his own virtue, who is neither puffed up by good fortune nor cast down by evil fortune, who knows no other good than that which he is able to bestow upon himself, whose real pleasure lies in despising pleasures. . . .

—Seneca the Younger, On the happy life, Chapter 4 (tr Stewart)

The ignorant man cares neither for words nor for meaning. The scholar often cares for words at the expense of meaning. The true philosopher loves words because they indicate meaning.

There isn’t always one right wording, since varying forms of definitions will express different aspects and strengths, and different degrees of breadth and depth. Arrange your army in whatever formation you wish, but it is still the same army.

I would always enjoy reading Aristotle on happiness with students, and though his philosophy is from a different tradition than that of the Stoics, I was pleased to see how some students would have that moment of insight, where however we ordered the words, it became clear to them that happiness was essentially measured by what we did, and not by what happened to us.

Aristotle, for example, offers a very precise definition:

Happiness is the activity of a rational soul, according to complete virtue, and determined over a complete life.

Now all of that is quite a mouthful, and can certainly seem confusing and obscure. More academically inclined students may take this apart, and relate all the pieces to the overall argument of the chapter, that happiness is always an end and never a means, and that it must therefore be something complete and self-sufficient, or that we can come to know what is good for a human being by considering the function of human nature. Such discussions are the sorts of things that inspire us bookish teachers, especially if we can dabble in the subtleties of the original Greek.

Every so often I would have the pleasure of such an involved and lively discussion, though one of my favorite moments came when I noticed a quiet and reserved student staring out the window and smiling. I wanted to pull her into the conversation. I asked her if any of the definition was helpful.

“Yes, because it sounds like he’s really just saying two things. Happiness is about living, and it’s about living well.” The budding Greek scholars were suddenly silent, because the unassuming student had it all in a nutshell.

Notice also, of course, how this is hardly much different from a Stoic view, or from the different wordings that Seneca suggests. Happiness proceeds from the excellence of my actions, and not from my circumstances. This is why the happy man is strong from within. He expresses love and concern for his neighbors, out of the very conviction that his character will define him. We might consider many different parts and aspects of a happy life, but it remains one and the same thing throughout.

I was once part of a similar sort of discussion, this one not even in the formal context of a class, where we were trying to come to an agreeable definition of honor. Seneca uses it, for example, in one of his possible definitions. Now honor seems quite a noble word, but it can be used in very different ways.

The conversation was quickly unraveling, because some people thought seeking honor was an expression of good moral character, and others thought it was the pursuit of vanity. It took someone only a moment to clarify what was shared, and where there was divergence: “Honor is about respect or credit. Now a good man is honorable if he acts out of respect for his own conscience. A bad man is honorable if he lets his life be determined only by the respect other people give him.”

I don’t think Seneca, or any Stoic, or any philosopher, could have put it any better. Let what is good in life proceed from yourself, and not what you receive from the world. 

Written in 10/1999