Musonius Rufus, Lectures 11.12

Therefore let no one say that farming is an obstacle to learning or to teaching the lessons of duty, for it can scarcely be such an obstacle, if we realize that under these conditions the pupil lives in closest association with the teacher, and the teacher has the pupil constantly at hand. And where this is the case, earning a living by farming seems to be most suitable for a philosopher.

And as we find ourselves at the end of this short lecture, the professional philosopher rolls his eyes with that dismissive disgust we all know so well, and he stops squirming in his seat, hoping that we paid absolutely no attention to anything that was said.

Let us move on to something far more important, he might say, like what the proper order of the books in Aristotle’s Metaphysics ought to be. I am not joking when I tell you that my entire department was obsessed with this question for a whole year, and friendships were irreparably broken due to the critical disagreements.

The soap opera took on a whole new level of drama, when the phenomenologists suggested that the text made no sense in any event, and that the order might as well be arbitrary.

If all the philosophers had been manly enough, they might have thrown fists, but given their lack of courage, they were quite happy to just insult one another—in private, of course, behind the backs of their enemies.

Yes, this actually happened, at one of the most “respected” institutes of higher learning in the country. The poor graduate students were in a panic, not knowing which side to pick, uncertain about who to suck up to when it came to begging for a thesis director. Their fellowships, meaning the monies they were given to kiss ass, were on the line.

I should waste no more time on any of that, and waste no more of my efforts in playing such an elaborate and sinister game.

I should no longer seek Aristotle’s secret intentions. I should look instead to what the right time might be to plant and to harvest, both for my crops and for the actions in my own life.

I should worry less about whether Lonergan can actually be in agreement with Aquinas on the status of ideas, and worry more about putting my own mind in order.

I should stop my obsession with finding what is wrong with whatever my colleagues happen to think, and start learning to love my neighbors, especially the ones who treat me like an enemy.

I should join myself to decent people, and commit myself to decent work. A farm could be a good place to start, where I must constantly cooperate with others for the sake of achieving a totally concrete goal.

Stop rolling your eyes at me, because you know you can’t talk your way out of this one.

Written in 11/1999