Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 11.18.3

. . . Third, that if men do rightly what they do, we ought not to be displeased, but if they do not right, it is plain that they do so involuntarily and in ignorance.

For as every soul is unwillingly deprived of the truth, so also is it unwillingly deprived of the power of behaving to each man according to his deserts. Accordingly men are pained when they are called unjust, ungrateful, and greedy, and in a word wrongdoers to their neighbor . . .

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 11.18 (tr Long)

As rational animals, we will most certainly decide how we will act, and therefore we will be responsible for how we will live; still, our judgments will proceed from the premise that we always choose what seems to be beneficial. We may desire something harmful, and we may do something harmful, but it is only because we somehow think it is good that we would ever pursue it.

When I do what is evil, I certainly could know better, and I certainly should know better. At the time, however, and in whatever twisted sort of a way, I have convinced myself that left is right, that up is down, that right is wrong. The vice comes across as a virtue. Yes, the harm is seen as necessary, or the lie is seen as convenient, or the lust is seen as fulfilling.

When I come to see this ignorance in myself, I ask to be forgiven, to be taught, or to be helped. I want to become better. When I see it in others, should I not ask for much the same? Ignorance is hardly an excuse, though overcoming such ignorance is the remedy.

At the very least, this will assist me in putting up with others, and at the very best, it will assist me in sharing the burdens of others. It reminds me to improve myself by helping others to improve themselves, to look at wisdom and ignorance as the root causes of virtue and vice, and not merely to boil away with resentment at offensive words and deeds.

Profound and abstract philosophical reflection are not even required to understand this, since we can also see it immediately in the patterns of our daily behavior. Observe how we may do something thoughtless, selfish, or manipulative, but if we are corrected or challenged, we quite easily become defensive and indignant.

We don’t like being seen as wrong, because we so desperately want to be right. We might be terribly unjust, but we become charged with a stubborn sense that we embody everything that is just.

The only way out of the cycle of resentment is to admit ignorance, and thereby being open to learning something new. In this way, good living will always follow from good thinking. I can hardly be a decent man if I don’t really know what it means to be decent, nor can I reasonably expect that from anyone else.

Written in 5/2009