Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.15

“That is a strange conclusion and hard to accept. But I see that it is suited too well by what we have agreed upon earlier.”

“You are right,” she said, “but when one finds it hard to agree with a conclusion, one ought in fairness to point out some fault in the argument which has preceded, or show that the sequence of statements is not so joined together as to effectively lead to the conclusion; otherwise, if the premises are granted, it is not just to cavil at the inference.”

—from Book 4, Prose 4

This brief passage may seem like something of a sidetrack from the main argument, on the relationship of virtue and vice to reward and punishment. I find it suitably placed, however, because Lady Philosophy is asking us to assent to things we may not previously have found believable. It serves as a timely reminder that we should judge by the truth of the matter, not by the comfort of the matter.

Are the premises true? Is the argument valid? Then the conclusion follows. What might still make it strange, or hard to accept? I can think of many things I have considered as obstacles to agreement, though they weren’t really obstacles at all. The difficulty has always been in the stubbornness of my will, never in the openness of my mind.

Perhaps the conclusion is unpopular. Others may frown at it, but that will not make it any less true.

Perhaps the conclusion is unfamiliar. My habits are hard to break, but sometimes they have been poorly formed.

Perhaps the conclusion is inconvenient. I may understand it in theory, but it is rudely asking me to change how I live in practice.

Perhaps the conclusion is uncomfortable. Sure, it might be right and good, but it happens to be getting in the way of my desires.

For example, if happiness is something that can never do us harm, but pleasure can most certainly do us harm, then pleasure cannot be happiness. My lust should not get in the way of that understanding.

Or if our merit comes only from what we do, but honor depends on what other people might do, then our merit cannot come from honor. My vanity should not get in the way of that understanding.

Or if the worst punishments involve losing our own nature, but vices destroy our very nature, then vices will be a worst punishment. My resentment should not get in the way of that understanding.

The conclusion proceeds from the soundness of the argument, and the argument does not proceed from my preference for the conclusion. What frustration and grief I will save myself from if I don’t put the cart before the horse!

Written in 11/2015