Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.8

“I would have you understand what is this strength of power. We have a little while ago laid down that nothing is more powerful than the highest good?”

“Yes,” I said.

“But the highest good can do no evil?”

“No.”

“Is there any one who thinks that men are all-powerful?”

“No one,” I said, “unless he be mad.”

“And yet those same men can do evil.”

 “Would to heaven they could not!” I cried.

“Then a powerful man is capable only of all good; but even those who are capable of evil, are not capable of all. So it is plain that those who are capable of evil are capable of less.

“Further, we have shown that all power is to be counted among objects of desire, and all objects of desire have their relation to the good, as to the copestone of their nature. But the power of committing crime has no possible relation to the good. Therefore it is not an object of desire. Yet, as we said, all power is to be desired. Therefore the power of doing evil is no power at all.

“For all these reasons the power of good men and the weakness of evil men are apparent. So Plato's opinion is plain that  ‘the wise alone are able to do what they desire, but unscrupulous men can only labor at what they like, they cannot fulfill their real desires.’ They do what they like so long as they think that they will gain through their pleasures the good which they desire; but they do not gain it, since nothing evil ever reaches happiness.”

—from Book 4, Prose 2

My confusion about the nature of strength and weakness comes from my confusion about the nature of good and evil. Yes, I am right to think that power rests in the ability to achieve something, but no, I am wrong to think that evil is a “something” at all; nothing is gained, because nothing is fulfilled within my very nature. The degree to which anything is powerful is in direct proportion to the degree to which it is good, and so the more I turn to vice, the weaker I become.

That which possesses perfect goodness possesses perfect power, and we can surely call it Divine. That which lacks any goodness at all would possess no power at all, for it would lack any existence. 

In between we will find the full range of all created things, stronger as they work to achieve their ends, weaker as they fail in them. If I understand this rightly, I can see it so clearly in our own human nature, where by our own judgments and choices we may become more like the gods, or wither away into near nothingness.

I am misled because I see the people we usually consider as being powerful, and I see them apparently having the means to get the things they want. They win pleasure, and riches, and fame, and they do so in all sorts of forceful or manipulative ways. Yet how do these things actually give them what they want? They may change the circumstances around them, while they diminish what is within them. I cannot possibly believe they are making themselves happy, because they are not making themselves any better; they are, in fact, making themselves far worse, by thinking and acting in ways that contradict their purpose to know and to love.

If my happiness is my own good, how could something good come from doing something bad? How can understanding be achieved by choosing ignorance? How can love be practiced by pursuing hatred? It seems rather silly to be walking in the opposite direction of where I need to be going.

At a time when I thought I could possibly learn to be an author, producing profound short stories while sitting at a café in Paris or a pub in Dublin, a writing teacher reminded me that an antagonist in my story will hardly come across properly if I make him content and peaceable.

“He is your villain, and does dastardly things, precisely because he is a grasping man, dissatisfied with himself and his world, and he is desperately trying to find happiness, however twisted a form of it he perceives. He is always in conflict with others, precisely because he doesn’t have the very things he needs.”

“Doesn’t he see that he will never become happy by playing his games?”

“Ah, and there is the tragedy of the villain! Either he struggles to turn his own life around, or he perishes by his own hand!”

I never became that bohemian writer, of course, but I remember that advice, and I have unashamedly passed it on to my own students over the years. It wasn’t just a lesson about writing, but a lesson about living.

If I take the time to observe carefully, my daily experience only confirms this, and I should rightly wonder why I am still so impressed by the false achievements of wicked people. I have known many dishonest, selfish, and violent types in my life, but never once have I known one to give any indication of being at peace with himself or with his world. It isn’t that his vice may lead him to misery; it is that his vice already is his misery.

Written in 10/2015

Dhammapada 68

No, that deed is well done of which a man does not repent, and the reward of which he receives gladly and cheerfully. 

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 2.4

Of what, then, is this evidence if not of the existence of an innate inclination of the human soul toward goodness and nobleness, and of the presence of the seeds of virtue in each one of us?

Moreover, because it is entirely to our advantage to be good, some of us deceive ourselves into thinking that we are really good, while others of us are ashamed to admit that we are not.

Why then pray, when one who has not learned letters or music or gymnastics never claims to have knowledge of these arts nor makes any pretense of knowing them, and is quite unable even to name a teacher to whom he went, why, I say, does everyone profess that he has virtue?

It is because none of those other skills is natural to man, and no human being is born with a natural faculty for them, whereas an inclination toward virtue is inborn in each one of us.

Every sort of thing is made to fulfill its own nature, in its own distinct way. Every other condition is superfluous to that, perhaps preferable, yet hardly necessary.

We all know that we should be good, even as we are not always sure how to be good. We want this so much that we delude ourselves into believing that anything we do will make us good.

No, it will not.

We see certain things we desire, and we think that their acquisition will make us kind and decent folks.

No, they will not.

This job, or that spouse, or some honor here or there is entirely beside the point. Regardless of the circumstances, where was the understanding, where was the conviction, where was the self-control, where was the love? I would like to assume I have all of that, since I take it for granted that success is good; but wait, what is the real measure of human success? Have I been selling my dignity and integrity for that supposed success?

If I have never carefully studied quantum physics, then I cannot claim to be a quantum physicist. So if I have never carefully studied virtue, why am I claiming to be virtuous? I don’t want to admit that I don’t know what I should know.

I make the claim, however false, because I know, however vaguely, that this is something I need to live up to. I become worried, because studying quantum physics is hard, and studying virtue is surely harder.

No, it isn’t any harder at all; it should actually come much more easily. It flows from us with ease as soon as we get our priorities in order. Right thinking leads to right doing, and no training in complex equations or mind-twisting concepts is required of anyone here. The physicist may need years of formal education, while the good man only needs his own common sense and a humble heart.

I ask this of myself in a much simpler way: Does my life hang on how good I am at calculus? That skill can be of great service to me in so many ways, but no, it does not. It is a means, not the end.

Does my life hang on whether I can be concerned, respectful, and compassionate? Yes, it does. It is the very fulfillment of being human. It is the end, not a means.

There is one thing I was made for, the one thing that comes naturally to me, and that is the excellence of my own character. I must remember that I can take or leave the rest, since it is something added to my nature, not something grown out of my nature.

“I was born to be a lawyer!”

No, you were born to be honest, whether you happen to be a lawyer or not.

“I was born to be a rock star!”

No, you were born to be humble, whether you happen to be a rock star or not.

“I was born to be a baron of industry!”

No, you were born to be fair, whatever business you happen to work in.

It’s funny how we get it all backwards, and we start with all the accidents, while neglecting the essence. Then we somehow foolishly think we can achieve the essence by spending all of our time on those accidents.

To be a happy man you simply have to be a good man, first and foremost. That comes from within, from all the gifts Nature and Providence put right there in your lap. Everything else comes from the outside.

Written in 4/1999

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 110

When a friend inclined to Cynic views asked Epictetus, what sort of person a true Cynic should be, requesting a general sketch of the system, he answered:

"We will consider that at leisure. At present I content myself with saying this much: If a man puts his hand to so weighty a matter without God, the wrath of God abides upon him. That which he covets will but bring upon him public shame. 

"Not even on finding himself in a well-ordered house does a man step forward and say to himself, I must be master here! Otherwise the lord of that house takes notice of it, and, seeing him insolently giving orders, drags him forth and chastises him. 

"So it is also in this great City, the World. Here also is there a Lord of the House, who orders all thing:

You are the Sun! In your orbit you
have power to make the year and the seasons;  
to bid the fruits of the earth to grow 
and increase, the winds arise and fall; 
you can in due measure cherish with 
your warmth the frames of men; go make 
your circuit, and thus minister unto all 
from the greatest to the least! . . .

You can lead a host against Troy; be Agamemnon!

You can meet Hector in single combat; be Achilles!

"But had Thersites stepped forward and claimed the chief command, he would have been met with a refusal, or obtained it only to his own shame and confusion of face, before a cloud of witnesses." 

Stoic Conversations 21

"Do you remember what my last words were supposed to be? I forget. I know I planned them. It was funny then. Seems stupid now. I'm tired. It's dull."

"I remember what they were."

"Were they any good?"

"Yes. They were the best words."

"What were they?"

"Walk with God."

"That'll do. Thanks. . . . Do me a favor, will you?"

"Sure. Anything."

"Can you have someone else say them for me? . . . I'm tired." 

IMAGE: Edvard Munch, At the Deathbed (1895) 

Stoic Conversations 20

"If someone feels something, if it's what his desires tell him he should do, then that's what he should do. It would be wrong to keep anyone from getting what he wants."

"What if I want to rob you? What if I want to expose myself in public parks? What if I want to become an addict? What if I want to throw myself off a building?"

"Don't be silly, those are completely different cases!"

"Why? I may feel like I want to do them. My passions are speaking to me."

"But you may be harming other people, or harming yourself."

"So there is another condition I need to apply? Not just that I want something, but that I should want something that is good for others and for me?"

"Well, yes."

"Then things don't become good just because you desire them, but you should desire then because they are good?"

"Hold on now, who's to say what's good or bad?"

"Quite right, that's a further question, but it is one that requires reason, not just passion."

"I guess I've never thought of it that way, though I feel like I've heard that argument somewhere before."

"Do you know a fellow named Socrates?"

"No, what department is he in?"

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 2.3

For take the common man; when asked whether he is stupid or intelligent, not one will confess to being stupid; or again, when asked whether he is just or unjust, not one will say that he is unjust.

In the same way, if one asks him whether he is temperate or intemperate, he replies at once that he is temperate; and finally, if one asks whether he is good or bad, he would say that he is good, even though he can name no teacher of virtue or mention any study or practice of virtue he has ever made. 

Our instincts and inclinations can be fascinating things, playing themselves out in ways we are not always aware of.

It took me some time to recognize that a certain sharpness was simply a sign that my wife was hungry, and that it was thoughtless of me to overlook this. It took her some time to recognize that a certain silence was simply a sign that I was frustrated with a problem, and that I was now prone to becoming angry. Learning about such quirks helped us to understand one another better, and so to improve ourselves.

The passions are drawn to pleasure, and they shy away from pain. Just as the plant may turn to the sunlight, or the mouse may hide from the cat, or the dog may drool at the sight and smell of a steak, so I too will feel desire for some things and aversion to others.

At the level of my body, I am not all that different from a plant or an animal, perhaps more refined in degree but quite the same in kind. But if my body is inclined to want food, and warmth, and comfort, toward what is my soul inclined? As with all things, I must only consider its nature.

My reason is made to understand, and from this my will is made to choose. This is why the mind is the ruling principle, that which can judge the meaning and purpose in other things. Through it, I am not only moved to act, but I can decide to act, knowing why it is right for me to do so.

And even when I am not thinking as clearly as I could, or not choosing to reflect on the merit of what I am doing, my very identity as a human being is disposed toward wisdom and virtue. It is precisely what I am here for, and every fiber of me longs for it, as much I might ignore that truth or turn away from that good. Like they say, fish gotta swim, and birds gotta fly . . . and every one of us can’t help but want virtue.

While we may not know right then and there how to do it, or even precisely what it is we are longing for, that still remains the emptiness we wish to fill. The inclination is at work all of the time, whether waking or sleeping, whether we are looking right at it or stubbornly looking away. It isn’t something that comes from outside of us, but something that is from the inside of what we are.

The end is living well, not just living, and the biggest part of being on this earth is figuring out what that means.

One way to grasp this is to observe how we genuinely wish to think of ourselves as being good. People will regularly say that they are not gifted at this or that ability, like having a knack for numbers, or possessing an ability for producing art, or being talented at football, yet they are far less likely to admit that they are morally flawed. This rubs us the wrong way, perhaps because we instinctively know that this is what ultimately defines us, what makes or breaks us.

Though the cardinal virtues are currently not in common parlance, it still troubles us quite deeply to consider that we might lack them. Tell me that I would make a terrible lawyer, or doctor, or accountant, and I will gladly agree with you. Tell me, however, that I am ignorant instead of thoughtful, cowardly instead of brave, gluttonous instead of temperate, or selfish instead of fair, and I will be tempted to take offense.

Why should this bother me? If I am brutally honest with myself, I know that I am often far from the mark when it comes to virtue. Still, I am also aware that it is not just a skill, one among many that I might have; it is the only skill that I need to have. Talents, or trades, or hobbies can come and go, particular to one man or another, while virtue is necessary, universal for all men.

I know that my character is the fullest expression of my humanity, and I know that the value of anything else will depend on that. That inclination always remains within me, though I may never have bothered to become fully conscious of it.

Written in 4/1999

Aesop's Fables 10

The Ass and the Lap-Dog

A Farmer one day came to the stables to see to his beasts of burden: among them was his favorite Ass, that was always well fed and often carried his master. 

With the Farmer came his Lapdog, who danced about and licked his hand and frisked about as happy as could be. The Farmer felt in his pocket, gave the Lapdog some dainty food, and sat down while he gave his orders to his servants. The Lapdog jumped into his master's lap, and lay there blinking while the Farmer stroked his ears. 

The Ass, seeing this, broke loose from his halter and commenced prancing about in imitation of the Lapdog. The Farmer could not hold his sides with laughter, so the Ass went up to him, and putting his feet upon the Farmer's shoulder attempted to climb into his lap. The Farmer's servants rushed up with sticks and pitchforks and soon taught the ass that 

Clumsy jesting is no joke.

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.12

For we take a friendly view of our own private affairs, and partiality always obscures our judgment. I fancy that many men would have arrived at wisdom had they not believed themselves to have arrived there already, had they not purposely deceived themselves as to some parts of their character, and passed by others with their eyes shut: for you have no grounds for supposing that other people's flattery is more ruinous to us than our own.

Who dares to tell himself the truth? Who is there, by however large a troop of caressing courtiers he may be surrounded, who in spite of them is not his own greatest flatterer?

The vanity begins within myself, and then it lashes out at whoever stands in my way. I am so full of myself that nothing else can enter. Worse yet, I am so full of myself that my bitterness overflows, and it burns others.

I complain that the world is always wrong, but it rarely occurs to me that I might be wrong. I am smug, self-satisfied, immediately ready to cast blame, and hardly willing to receive it.

Over the years I have done some odd things, and been to a few interesting places, but something common to all of them was that I overheard quite a bit of what other people had to say, far more than they may have thought. I don’t need to get involved, or say anything at all; I just need to listen.

Through it all, I sadly discern a common pattern. Put two or more people together, give them a certain problem, and they will almost always point fingers. The fault is out there, not in here. They cover for themselves, and they circle the wagons.

Others are the villains, and they are the suffering heroes. The more they talk it over, the stronger their indignation becomes. Sometimes even the facts start changing, as some aspects are grossly exaggerated, while others are ignored completely.

I suspect that when we are in groups, we are simply tempted to magnify the self-righteousness that is already simmering inside of us. Give me another to back me up, and I feel vindicated. I now have a further justification for not thinking clearly.

The more the heads nod in agreement, the more the thinking seems to get rattled. This must be why the most important people like having a crew of yes-men to follow them around.

By looking outside, it distracts me from looking inside. I am now free to judge everyone and everything besides myself. I don’t need to learn anything new, because I already know it all. I don’t need to become a better man, because I am already the best man there is. How ridiculous the self-deception can become!

Sometimes we are so adamant in telling a lie that we actually come to believe it, and at no time is this more apparent than when we lie to ourselves. The degree to which we express how deeply we are shocked, appalled, or offended can far too easily reflect the delusions about our own bloated sense of self.

The Stoic remembers that the biggest obstacle to wisdom and virtue is in our own hearts and minds, not in the way the rest of the world happens to unfold. How ironic that the thing closest to me, my very self, is the most difficult for me to look at fairly and honestly. My self-imposed ignorance of my own character is surely at the root of my doubt and uncertainty about a good life.

Written in 4/2011

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 3.2

What the truth says inwardly without noise of words

1. Speak Lord, for Your servant hears. I am Your servant; O give me understanding that I may know Your testimonies. Incline my heart unto the words of Your mouth. Let Your speech distill as the dew. The children of Israel spoke in old times to Moses, Speak You unto us and we will hear, but let not the Lord speak unto us lest we die. Not thus, O Lord, not thus do I pray, but rather with Samuel the prophet, I beseech You humbly and earnestly, Speak, Lord, for Your servant hears. Let not Moses speak to me, nor any prophet, but rather speak You, O Lord, who did inspire and illuminate all the prophets; for You alone without them can perfectly fill me with knowledge, while they without You shall profit nothing.

2. They can indeed utter words, but they give not the spirit. They speak with exceeding beauty, but when You are silent they kindle not the heart. They give us scriptures, but You make known the sense thereof. They bring us mysteries, but You reveal the things that are signified. They utter commandments, but You help to the fulfilling of them. They show the way, but You give strength for the journey. They act only outwardly, but You do instruct and enlighten the heart. They water, but You give the increase. They cry with words, but You give understanding to the hearer. 

3. Therefore let not Moses speak to me, but You, O Lord my God, Eternal Truth; lest I die and bring forth no fruit, being outwardly admonished, but not enkindled within; lest the word heard but not followed, known but not loved, believed but not obeyed, rise up against me in the judgment. Speak, Lord, for Your servant hears; You have the words of eternal life. Speak unto me for some consolation unto my soul, for the amendment of my whole life, and for the praise and glory and eternal honor of Your Name.

Stoic Conversations 19

"Listen bitches, Life is all about money! Get with it!"

"No, life is all about character."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the guy whose ear you just yelled in, and the guy who ended up with half of your drink in his face."

"Fuck you, faggot."

"Sorry, I couldn't hear you. I'm still wiping your spit out of my ear."

"You want me to kick the shit out of you?"

"Yes, please. That way I can sue you for all that big money you have. You obviously have no character I can learn from."

"I got no time for you, pussy!"

"Of course not. Go buy some more bitches with your big money."

"Whatever!"

IMAGE: What Boston College parents pay for. . .

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 2.2

Now in the care of the sick we demand no one but the physician to be free from error, and in handling the lyre no one but the musician, and in managing the helm no one but the pilot, but in the conduct of life it is no longer only the philosopher whom we expect to be free from error, though he alone would seem to be the only one concerned with the study of virtue, but all men alike, including those who have never given any attention to virtue.

Clearly, then, there is no explanation for this other than that the human being is born with an inclination toward virtue. And this indeed is strong evidence of the presence of goodness in our nature, that all speak of themselves as having virtue and being good. 

I recall being told as a young pup that we now lived in the age of the experts, where everyone was quite good at knowing about something, while no one could make sense of everything.

Well, I’m fairly sure it’s always been that way; Musonius describes a world that is rather similar. If I want my car fixed, I go to a mechanic. If I want to resolve a lawsuit, I go to a lawyer. If I want to get some money, I go to a banker.

Do I know that the mechanic isn’t making up fake problems? No, because I don’t know everything about how my car runs. Do I know that the lawyer isn’t playing games with me? No, because I don’t have all those rows of books in my office. Do I know that the banker isn’t sucking me dry? No, because he lends to me on terms I can never understand.

Leave all of that aside. A nice car, or a clean legal record, or a perfect credit score never make the man. They tell me all the time that it does, but I now know that it doesn’t. At some point, through the whole smokescreen, I saw something important, that the measure of my worth was never about where I lived, or which people I knew, our how much money I was able to borrow.

The measure of my worth is my own virtue. No one ever gives it to me, and no one ever takes it away from me, and it requires nothing more than what Nature has already provided for me.

Wait, which expert do I go to find out more about this? Is there a special class? Do I need to earn a degree? Who is qualified to fix it my life?

Only I am qualified, just as every other human being on the face of the earth is equally qualified. No experts, no classes, no degrees, no further requirements.

There is no product to be bought, and no greater price to be paid.

Do I have the power of reason? Yes, I am able to think for myself.

Do I have the power of will? Yes, I am able to choose for myself.

Am I faced with the most basic world of experience? Of course, I confront the reality of pleasure and pain, of riches and poverty, of ease and hardship, in each day of my life.

And that is all I need to make a judgment, and to make a decision.

“But what about the philosophers? Shouldn’t we listen to them? They are the experts, they are the professionals!”

Distinguo. Define your terms. Do you mean the man who spends his life writing books about the theory of the true and the false, the right and the wrong? Perhaps you can learn something wonderfully abstract from him, but look at what he cares most about. When you are in the dirt, will he personally help you up? Of course not; he needs to earn tenure.

Do you mean the man who spends his life living with prudence, fortitude, temperance and justice, even as he earns little money, does his work quietly, and is treated like a freak? You can certainly learn something quite practical from him, and you can see quite clearly what he cares about. When you are in the dirt, he will personally help you up; he has nothing to care for but his own convictions.

The first is the expert, while the second is the everyman. The real philosopher is a thinking man, and he is a good man. No letters after his name will ever make him better, and the only expertise he needs is an informed conscience. I can do that, you can do that, and there is no need for specialized training.

By all means, look to your doctor to tell you what is wrong with your body. If he is a decent one, he will give you personal comfort along with your medicine. When it comes to the health of your soul, however, you need no doctors; you already have your cure, given to you, and to all of us, by Nature. You may choose to live through truth and love.

Some are made for this or that trade, but all are made for virtue.

Written in 4/1999

Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 3

10. To him who was sorrowing in the midst of the two armies, Hrishikesha, as if smiling, O descendant of Bharata! spoke these words. 

The Blessed Lord said: 

11. You have been mourning for them who should not be mourned for. Yet you speak words of wisdom. The truly wise grieve neither for the living nor the dead. 

12. It is not that I have never existed, nor you, nor these kings. Nor is it that we shall cease to exist in the future.

13. As are childhood, youth, and old age, in this body, to the embodied soul, so also is the attaining of another body. Calm souls are not deluded by this.

14. Notions of heat and cold, of pain and pleasure, are born, O son of Kunti, only of the contact of the senses with their objects. They have a beginning and an end. They are impermanent in their nature. Bear them patiently, O descendant of Bharata.

15. That calm man who is the same in pain and pleasure, whom these cannot disturb, alone is able, O great among men, to attain to immortality.

16. The unreal never is. The Real never is not. Men possessed of the knowledge of the Truth fully know both these.

17. That by which all this is pervaded—That know for certain to be indestructible. None has the power to destroy this Immutable.

18. Of this indwelling Self, the ever-changeless, the indestructible, the illimitable—these bodies are said to have an end. Fight therefore, O descendant of Bharata.

—Bhagavad Gita, 2:10-18

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 3

He used then to discourse, pacing up and down in the painted colonnade, which is also called the colonnade or Portico of Pisianax, but which received its name from the painting of Polygnotus; his object being to keep the spot clear of a concourse of idlers. It was the spot where in the time of the Thirty 1400 Athenian citizens had been put to death. 

Hither, then, people came henceforth to hear Zeno, and this is why they were known as men of the Stoa, or Stoics; and the same name was given to his followers, who had formerly been known as Zenonians. So it is stated by Epicurus in his letters. According to Eratosthenes in his eighth book On the Old Comedy, the name of Stoic had formerly been applied to the poets who passed their time there, and they had made the name of Stoic still more famous. 

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.5

Sayings of Ramakrishna 16

God, His scripture, and His devotee are all to be regarded as one, in one and the same light. 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.11

Then again, when the mind is elevated by the greatness of its thoughts, it becomes ostentatious in its use of words, the loftier its aspirations, the more loftily it desires to express them, and its speech rises to the dignity of its subject.

At such times I forget my mild and moderate determination and soar higher than is my wont, using a language that is not my own. Not to multiply examples, I am in all things attended by this weakness of a well-meaning mind, to whose level I fear that I shall be gradually brought down, or what is even more worrying, that I may always hang as though about to fall, and that there may be more the matter with me than I myself perceive.

When all else seems right with the world, it makes perfect sense that my thoughts, my words, and my actions should be simple, humble, and unassuming. I should say less, and I should mean what I say with a sincere concern that it is first and foremost true and helpful, regardless of how much attention it brings me. I tell myself that I know full well how pointless it is to puff myself up with pompous ideas and baroque language; let Nature temper my vanity.

But then I am suddenly not so sure of myself. Did I really need to use the term “baroque”, when a much more direct word would have worked just fine? Did I use it because it was best for the job, or was I somehow showing off? I am sure I don’t intend to be self-serving, but I worry I am doing it nonetheless. There is that nagging uncertainty again, knowing in one sense but being quite clueless in another.

Am I getting it wrong, or am I worrying too much, which is yet another way of getting it wrong?

The Stoics followed the thinking of Socrates, that virtue proceeds from wisdom, and that vice proceeds from ignorance. Hence if I have failed to do what is good, it is because I did not rightly understand what was good; the merit of my choice will be measured by the depth of my awareness.

What is happening, however, when I think I know, and I still find it so hard to follow through in what I do? The Peripatetics, the followers of Aristotle, suggested that something in our power of choice is still keeping us back. I may understand a universal concept in theory, but I am not making use of a particular application in practice. The comprehension is not complete, and I am not joining the grand principle to the actual situation.

Take, for example, my general knowledge that I should not eat or drink what is unhealthy. Yet put a whole pound of bacon, or an entire bottle of whiskey, in front of me, and I will still be tempted to consume it all, right then and there. The general fact that this is unhealthy is hidden, is overcome, by another specific perception, that it is quite pleasant. I am aware broadly, forgetful narrowly, and I am not really connecting the dots.

I have never taken the Aristotelian view to be in contradiction to the Platonic view, but rather as a complement or supplement to it.

Something similar, I think, happens to me when I try to be simple, humble, and unassuming, and yet I still struggle with the temptation of being embellished, vain, and lofty. The conscience remains only partly formed, because I have not fully built the habit of applying the rule to the instance. My struggle is not that I don’t know at all, but that I don’t know as fully and as clearly as I could.

As always, just thinking, mulling it over as a profound abstraction, will mean little if it is not exercised concretely in daily life. Like growing pains, my frustration can encourage me that I am on the right track, but I still have a ways to go.

Written in 4/2011

Sayings of Socrates 25

I have had no regular disciples; but if anyone likes to come and hear me while I am pursuing my mission, whether he be young or old, he may freely come. 

Nor do I converse with those who pay only, and not with those who do not pay; but anyone, whether he be rich or poor, may ask and answer me and listen to my words.

And whether he turns out to be a bad man or a good one, that cannot be justly laid to my charge, as I never taught him anything.

And if anyone says that he has ever learned or heard anything from me in private which all the world has not heard, I should like you to know that he is speaking an untruth.

—Plato, Apology 33a–b

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 1.10

But I think, by Hercules, that in philosophical speculation it is better to view things as they are, and to speak of them on their own account, and as for words, to trust to things for them, and to let one's speech, simply follow where they lead.

"Why do you want to construct a fabric that will endure for ages? Do you not wish to do this in order that posterity may talk of you? Yet you were born to die, and a silent death is the least wretched. Write something therefore in a simple style, merely to pass the time, for your own use, and not for publication. Less labor is needed when one does not look beyond the present."

The world of academia is largely one of big words and hot air. This is especially true in the field of philosophy, which so easily becomes disconnected from the real needs of life. I say this not with a sense of accusation and resentment, but with a sense of shame and guilt, for having spent far too much of my life playing along with those very games.

At first, I assumed it was just the philosophers. Then I saw it with the sociologists, the political scientists, the historians, and the psychologists. Then I saw it in law, in medicine, in religion, and in finance. Then I saw it in the day-to-day world of business, of politics, of entertainment, and of social services. The rot ran so terribly deep.

What are so many of these people saying, and why are they saying it? They use fancy concepts, attuned to the shallow fashion of the day, to become self-appointed experts. They do this in order to give themselves a sense of superiority, of being important, and to build up a name.

The typical academic who might be reading this is gritting his teeth right now. He wants to refute such ridiculous claims, and assure us that all is well. He will ridicule the whistleblower, the fellow who points out that the Emperor has no clothes.

Yet inside of himself, he knows the claims to be quite true. He would prefer you not recognize that, as it might expose the vanity of all he has worked for. He has published articles, after all, with titles like “The Esotericism of Being Qua Being: Confronting the Pan-Sexuality of False Ontology” to gain the respect of his venerable peers.

What is so funny is that you have no idea if that is a real peer-reviewed journal article, do you?

Tell the truth in its most direct form, keep it simple, and care nothing for your legacy. We are all dust, and to dust we shall all return. In the meantime, we can try to live with character, and help others to do the same. We have done well if we have given love, and treated others with justice and kindness. All the rest is a wasted effort.

It is best to do good, regardless of whether you are remembered for your cleverness. It is best to speak your wisdom quietly, and to expect no recognition for it. It is best to practice compassion for all, instead of deliberately making ideological enemies of others. There is never any need to pick a fight.

Nature will be as she will be. Follow her, and speak of her with reverence and clarity. That is not only a much better life, but also a much easier life.

Written in 4/2011

Tao Te Ching 50

Men come forth and live; they enter again and die.

Of every ten three are ministers of life to themselves; and three are ministers of death.

There are also three in every ten whose aim is to live, but whose movements tend to the land or place of death. And for what reason? Because of their excessive endeavors to perpetuate life.

But I have heard that he who is skillful in managing the life entrusted to him for a time travels on the land without having to shun rhinoceros or tiger, and enters a host without having to avoid buff coat or sharp weapon. 

The rhinoceros finds no place in him into which to thrust its horn, nor the tiger a place in which to fix its claws, nor the weapon a place to admit its point. And for what reason? Because there is in him no place of death.

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.7

. . . “Your anticipation is right; and as doctors are wont to hope, it shows a lively nature now fit to withstand disease. But I see that you are very ready in understanding, and I will multiply my arguments one upon another. See how great is the weakness of these wicked men who cannot even attain that to which their natural instinct leads them, no, almost drives them.

“And further, how if they are deprived of this great, this almost invincible, aid of a natural instinct to follow? Think what a powerlessness possesses these men. They are no light objects that they seek; they seek no objects in sport, objects it is impossible that they should achieve. They fail in the very highest of all things, the crown of all, and in this they find none of the success for which they labor day and night in wretchedness.

“But herein the strength of good men is conspicuous. If a man could advance on foot until he arrived at an utmost point beyond which there was no path for further advance, you would think him most capable of walking: equally so, if a man grasps the very end and aim of his search, you must think him most capable.

“Wherefore also the contrary is true; that evil men are similarly deprived of all strength. For why do they leave virtue and follow after vice? Is it from ignorance of good? Surely not, for what is weaker or less compelling than the blindness of ignorance? Do they know what they ought to follow, and are they thrown from the straight road by passions? Then they must be weak too in self-control if they cannot struggle with their evil passions.

“But they lose thus not only power, but existence all together. For those who abandon the common end of all who exist, must equally cease to exist. And this may seem strange, that we should say that evil men, though the majority of mankind, do not exist at all; but it is so. For while I do not deny that evil men are evil, I do deny that they ‘are,’ in the sense of absolute existence. You may say, for instance, that a corpse is a dead man, but you cannot call it a man. In a like manner, though I grant that wicked men are bad, I cannot allow that they are men at all, as regards absolute being.

“A thing exists which keeps its proper place and preserves its nature; but when anything falls away from its nature, its existence too ceases, for that lies in its nature.

“You will say, ‘Evil men are capable of evil’: and that I would not deny. But this very power of theirs comes not from strength, but from weakness. They are capable of evil; but this evil would have no efficacy if it could have stayed under the operation of good men. And this very power of ill shows the more plainly that their power is nothing. For if, as we have agreed, evil is nothing, then, since they are only capable of evil, they are capable of nothing.”

“That is quite plain.” . . .

—from Book 4, Prose 2

It may seem odd to suggest that evil is really nothing, and that those who do evil are powerless. I have heard many students proclaim, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard!” But if something is good simply by being itself, then evil, as its opposite, will be the failure of something to be itself. By extension, if virtue is a power of living well, then vice is a weakness in living well.

Perhaps the difficulty comes from thinking that evil is therefore somehow “imaginary”, or that its effects are not at all “real”. Yes, its effects are quite real, but as the result of an absence, not of a presence.

Just like the hole in a doughnut is real only in relation to what exists around it, so evil is only real in relation to what is good. It is not in itself a presence, but a privation, the negation of what should be present according to a thing’s nature.

I first came across this sort of argument in St. Augustine’s Confessions, where he struggled to make sense of which things in life were good, and which things in life were bad. Was spirit good, and matter evil? Was there some line dividing different types of beings that were beneficial or harmful? Can I even say that a man is evil in himself, or that his thoughts and actions could more rightly be considered evil?

Boethius here presents an argument very similar to Augustine’s, one I am sure he must have been quite familiar with. We speak of darkness as the absence of light, or hunger as the absence of being fed, and we can also speak of evil as the absence of good. Things are never the problem; the problem is in our failure to make the right use of things, to fulfill them, to complete the very purpose within their natures.

I am misled into believing that wicked people are powerful, because I am looking at all the wrong indicators of what is strong or weak. I see that they claim to own so many things, or to have so much influence over others, even as they really possess none of those things at all.

People may employ things in certain ways, though always in a manner that abuses those things contrary to their nature, and most importantly in a manner that abuses their own nature.

In the simplest of terms, I should not think of a man as being strong if he is starving his soul, or somehow bigger if he is hacking away more and more bits of his humanity. He is becoming less, not more.

If I am living with vice, is it perhaps because I am ignorant of the good? That is a weakness, an absence of the wisdom that should be a part of my rational nature. Is it because I am incapable of controlling my desires? That too is a weakness, an absence of the choice that should be a part of my will.

Slowly but surely, I abandon my very identity as a person. Is there still something there? Yes, but it is the shadow of man, not a complete man at all. It is as if I am throwing myself off a cliff, into the void, abandoning all that I was made to be, falling into emptiness.

That is rather frightening, as it should be, and it should remind me of what I still can be. No one else has been the cause of the inner corruption, except myself. Those judgments I thought would increase me were only diminishing me, in the deepest sense of what it means for me to exist, as a creature given the purpose to know and to love.

Written in 10/2015