Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 5.37

When you are calling out on the Rostra, have you forgotten, man, what these things are?

“Yes, but they are objects of great concern to these people!”

Will you too then be made a fool for these things?

“I was once a fortunate man, but I lost it, I know not how.”

But being fortunate means that a man has assigned to himself a good fortune, and a good fortune is good disposition of the soul, good emotions, good actions.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 5 (tr Long)

I used to be quite impressed, and often intimidated, by the confident rhetoric of important folks. They sounded so wise, and seemed so much better than me. I was certain I could never reach such a height of excellence.

Hard experience slowly taught me two things about such people, and why I was so easily misled. First, they don’t know as much as they’d like you to think. Second, their concern is with the appearance of character, not with the content of character.

This was a burden for me at school, and it remained a burden at work. It was something present in all aspects of social life as well. I began to realize, however, that I would run into two very different types of people in this world, those who were committed to the task of living well, and those who were committed to giving others the impression that they were living well.

The first sort of person doesn’t much care about his image, and that makes him worthy of actual respect. The second sort of person only wishes to be seen in a certain way, whether he is actually worthy of it or not.

One is a characterized by humility and integrity, the other by pride and deception. One will help you because it is right, the other will manipulate you because it is convenient.

When I first read Plato, I saw that the sophists have always been with us. They may be able to speak with great eloquence, and put on fine airs, but it’s all style with no substance. Even as their reasoning is fallacious, their words will tickle the passions. In many cases, the sophists use their skill as a means to acquire great power and influence. There are demagogues, both big and little, who are like pied pipers in the political, religious, and professional realms.

The lure of fame is quite tempting, and its acquisition is rather intoxicating. The remedy lies, as Marcus Aurelius says, in rethinking what truly makes our lives worthy and fortunate.

If I employ sweet words and empty promises to lead people by the nose, I am defining my worth by the approval and praise I hope to receive. It is all an illusion, of course, and in one sense the master has become a slave to his mob.

If, however, I am defining my worth by how I build my own wisdom and virtue, I have made myself fortunate from within, with no need to be approved and praised from without. I won’t need to pander, to play games, or to appear like something I am not. 

Written in 9/2006

IMAGE: Magnus Zeller, The Orator (1920)