The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Monday, September 19, 2022

Epictetus, Discourses 1.26.2


And this is the defense that we must plead with parents who are angered at their children studying philosophy: 
 
“Suppose I am in error, my father, and ignorant of what is fitting and proper for me. If, then, this cannot be taught or learnt, why do you reproach me? 
 
“If it can be taught, teach me, and, if you cannot, let me learn from those who say that they know. For what think you? That I fall into evil and fail to do well because I wish to? God forbid. 
 
“What, then, is the cause of my going wrong? Ignorance. Would you not then have me put away my ignorance? Who was ever taught the art of music or of steering by anger? Do you think, then, that your anger will enable me to learn the art of living?" 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.26 
 
I will always be grateful for a father who never needed convincing about the merits of philosophy, at least philosophy as properly understood—being a classically trained scholar, he had no patience for the hogwash. 
 
Having painted myself into the corner of an academic life, I would only advise such a profession for the very few, and yet I do think it a fundamental calling of life that we all, in our own distinct ways, become philosophical. All things in this life, big or small, are only of benefit to us when joined to a sound awareness of meaning and value. 
 
I can no longer count how often I have seen young people drawn to a deeper understanding of themselves and their world, only to find their elders telling them how they are wasting their time. “Stop with this nonsense and go get a real job!”
 
As it turns out, that is exactly what they are trying to do, for they are still unspoiled enough to recognize how the most important job of all is becoming a decent human being. We are free to choose the trade of our liking, and commit ourselves to our peculiar preferences, but those efforts will be wasted without the direction of a moral compass. 
 
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how the work of a rational animal is, well, the most complete act of being rational. 
 
If making money or climbing the social ladder are truly most important, I ask those who scoff at philosophy to offer an account of why this way of life is better than some other. Note how they will express their views so strongly, and yet they will be at a loss to provide an explanation, any argument presenting a proof for their conclusions. It turns out they are quite full of opinions and rather empty of knowledge. 
 
Even where they make a noble attempt, usually employing appeals to force or popularity, they end up using the power of reason, however poorly, to in turn denigrate the power of reason. They don’t like it one bit when you point this out. 
 
Most of us will ultimately resort to pleasure as the rule of life: if it feels good, then it is good, and we like our wealth and our fame because they are a means to our gratification. Just scratch the surface a bit, however, and we realize how often pleasure has been a hindrance, and how often pain has been an asset. The honest man now admits he must go back to the drawing board. 
 
See? Philosophy, properly understood, is a necessity of life—every thought, word, and deed hinges upon the measure of conscience. 
 
Certainly, find a way to pay the bills, though never forget why all of that is in service to the sort of person you decide to become. Skill without prudence will twist you up. Ambition without courage will transform you into a monster. Luxury without temperance will smother you. Riches without justice will pull you under. 
 
It doesn’t matter whether you are a lawyer, a programmer, or a busboy; all that matters is striving to be a wise and virtuous lawyer, programmer, or busboy. 
 
I adore this passage by Epictetus, and I recommend it to any youth who is being hassled about taking his life seriously. 
 
Where is my mistake? Are you saying these questions are irrelevant, or that there are no answers? Why be angry at someone who wonders? 
 
Will you teach me? If you can’t, or you won’t, can you blame me for looking to others? How am I doing wrong by asking how to live rightly? 
 
You say I don’t get it? I want so much to make sense of it. Putting me down won’t lift me up. 
 
Some parents are horrified when their children start painting, writing poetry, or pondering the meaning of life. For me, it is a sign that something within them is working according to plan. 

—Reflection written in 4/2001 

IMAGE: Johannes Moreelse, The Young Poet (c. 1620) 



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