Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 3.6

If you find in human life anything better than justice, truth, temperance, fortitude, and, in a word, anything better than your own mind's self-satisfaction in the things which it enables you to do according to right reason, and in the condition that is assigned to you without your own choice—if, I say, you see anything better than this, turn to it with all your soul, and enjoy that which you have found to be the best.

But if nothing appears to be better than the deity which is planted in you, which has subjected to itself all your appetites, and carefully examines all the impressions, and, as Socrates said, has detached itself from the persuasions of sense, and has submitted itself to the gods, and cares for mankind—if you find everything else smaller and of less value than this, give place to nothing else, for if you do once diverge and incline to it, you will no longer without distraction be able to give the preference to that good thing which is your proper possession and your own.

For it is not right that anything of any other kind, such as praise from the many, or power, or enjoyment of pleasure, should come into competition with that which is rationally and politically or practically good. All these things, even though they may seem to adapt themselves to the better things in a small degree, obtain the superiority all at once, and carry us away.

But to you, I say, simply and freely choose the better, and hold to it. But that which is useful is the better. Well then, if it is useful to you as a rational being, keep to it. But if it is only useful to you as an animal, say so, and maintain your judgment without arrogance. Only take care that you make the inquiry by a sure method.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 3 (tr Long)

Few things in this life have given me greater joy and comfort than the opportunity to reflect on who I am, and why I am here. I have learned that I am given a mind so that I may discover what is true and good through my own reasoning. I can knowingly rule myself, and need not just blindly allow myself to be ruled.

At the same time, few things discourage me as much as the bickering and bullying that can sadly come with the life of the mind. Ideologues try to rigidly impose their own thinking, and demagogues confuse philosophy with sophistry.

This is perhaps one of the reasons I have always felt at home in the company of Stoicism. The good Stoic, the one who pursues not merely the name but the task, does not insist upon his own way, and he does not impose his own rules upon others. He may come to know with great depth and certainty how to distinguish between what is true and false, and between what is right and wrong, but he also understands that he cannot force anyone else to understand. He knows that, however long and hard the road may be, we must all come to understand for ourselves.

Bagehot, in The English Constitution, said that the Crown in a constitutional monarchy did not have the right to dictate or to demand, but rather “the right to be consulted, the right to encourage, the right to warn.” Though obviously in a rather different context, I suggest that the true philosopher has much the same rights. He will feel a duty to offer his guidance along the way, but he will not tell us what we must think or decide.

I know it seems an old and hackneyed phrase, but we do still use it for a reason: you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. Indeed, you can show a man the truth, but you can’t make him think. Socrates understood this.

Marcus Aurelius follows in this same spirit. If I can think of anything more beneficial than the Stoic life, then I should by all means follow that other life. He asks only that I be sure I have made the most reasonable decision. Much as St. Thomas Aquinas argued, make certain you always follow your conscience, but also make certain your conscience is always informed.

Do I have good reason to think that the life of pleasure, power, or praise will make me complete and happy? If so, life should be lived that way with total commitment. Do I have doubts, however, that this is really the best life? Have I noticed how these things may seem helpful at some times, but can also become deeply harmful at other times? Might I suspect that there are greater goods to guide the way? Then I must surely reconsider the priorities I have set for myself.

I only need to think this through for myself, and not merely do what the world tells me to do, in order to see that pleasure, power, or praise are inferior to virtue, and that they will only become good or bad when they are ruled by prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. My own honest estimation will show me the way.

Once I have made my decision, one way or the other, I must stand firm with it. Compromising the higher for the lower, or making excuses for the inferior at the expense of the superior, hardly shows a genuine respect for what I claim to value. If I wish to have it both ways, it becomes clear that I didn’t really know what I wanted to begin with. If I wish to sell out prudence for thoughtlessness, justice for greed, temperance for lust, or fortitude for equivocation, I am deeply confused about who is the rightful master.

It will be frustrating, but ultimately liberating, for me to make my choice. I must decide if I am a man ruled by character, or a beast ruled by gratification. 

Written in 1/2005