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In Praise of Idleness
A Discourse on the Aims of LifeIn the following discourse, the argument will be put forward that leisure is of the essence to human flourishing.
In this seminal work, the eminent philosopher posits that humanity's true potential is best realised through leisure, rather than through work. He asserts that the key to a more prosperous future lies in the provision of ample leisure time for all.
In his 1935 essay, In Praise of Idleness, Russell advances the notion that the prevailing emphasis on work is inflicting considerable harm on society, and that the pursuit of happiness and prosperity is better served by a deliberate reduction in working hours.
Russell further elaborates that the "cult of efficiency" has hindered our "capacity for lightheartedness and play".
The modern person, according to Russell, perceives that all activities should be undertaken for the benefit of another purpose, rather than for their own inherent value.
In essence, productivity serves as the primary guiding principle, with individuals undertaking actions primarily to achieve specific outcomes. There is a paucity of intellectual energy devoted to undertaking tasks for their own sake.
Consequently, Russell proposes that our leisure activities become increasingly mindless in nature:
The pleasures of urban populations have become chiefly passive, encompassing activities such as attending cinemas, watching football matches, and listening to the radio. This phenomenon arises from the fact that their active energies are fully engaged in work; if they had more leisure, they would once again engage in activities that require active participation.
To illustrate this point, Russell posits a hypothetical scenario in which the working day is reduced to four hours. In such a world, he asserts that
Individuals endowed with scientific curiosity would have the opportunity to indulge it, and every painter would be able to pursue their craft without facing starvation, irrespective of the quality of their work.
While such a scenario may appear to be a utopian ideal, Russell contends that contemporary production methods have the potential to allocate greater leisure time to the populace.
However, contemporary society has chosen a different path, one that emphasises the value, virtue, and necessity of work.
The value of hard work
The concept of a slacker is unpopular, and it is generally accepted that one should contribute to the collective. However, while industriousness is important and valuable in certain contexts, Russell believes that we must be cautious not to glorify work to the exclusion of all else. Alternative ways of being human are possible.
Moreover, the notion that work is inherently virtuous is a concept that has been perpetuated for an extensive period of time; it would be prudent to consider the interests it serves.
If the prevailing belief is that one's work ethic is a definitive measure of one's value as a human being, then it is pertinent to identify the beneficiaries of this belief.
Russell (2023) contends that this narrative has historically served the interests of the powerful, effectively encouraging workers to prioritize their efforts without question.
Conversely, the wealthy have long espoused the dignity of labour, while eschewing its own application.
Throughout history, aristocracies have primarily engaged in leisure, relying on the labour of others.
The leisure class, according to Russell, was endowed with privileges that were not founded on social justice, consequently leading to an oppressive system that stifled the development of broader sympathies and spurred the creation of theories to justify these privileges.
Despite the apparent injustice of their privileged status and the minimal effort required to attain their position, Russell asserts that the leisure class has contributed extensively to what is commonly referred to as civilization.
It cultivated the arts and discovered the sciences; it wrote the books, invented the philosophies, and refined social relations.Even the liberation of the oppressed has usually been inaugurated from above.
Crucially, Russell suggests that this is not because the aristocracy was somehow better or more enlightened than the workers; it is because the aristocracy had access to leisure:
Leisure is a fundamental aspect of civilisation, and in bygone eras, the labour of the many was instrumental in facilitating the leisure of the elite. However, the value of their labour did not stem from the inherent goodness of work itself, but rather from the inherent goodness of leisure.
The many were compelled to toil ceaselessly to engender leisure for a select few; however, contemporary production methodologies signify that the prospect of leisure for all is now attainable.
This paradigm shift presents a unique opportunity to establish a leisure class that is inclusive, encompassing all segments of society, and devoid of the inherent social injustices that have characterised previous models.
However, as has been demonstrated, Russell contends that society has chosen an alternative course of action. While the potential exists to distribute leisure more equally, the profit motive has been prioritised, leading to an intensification of the value of work.
This has resulted in employment for some, but leisure for none.
To illustrate the absurdity of the present situation, Russell invites us to imagine a hypothetical scenario concerning the manufacture of pins. Suppose the world's pin supply were adequately met by those in the industry working eight hours a day. Suppose someone then invents a tool that doubles the efficiency of every worker. What would be the outcome?
Russell's response is that, in a hypothetical scenario where the invention of a tool doubles the efficiency of every worker, the workforce would reduce their working hours from eight to four, with no adverse impact on productivity. However, he acknowledges that this is not the actual situation.
The men continue to work eight hours, there are too many pins, some employers go bankrupt, and half the men previously involved in making pins are unemployed.
Rather than allocating increased leisure time to the populace, the current system perpetuates the employment of a select group while concurrently engendering 'unemployment' for others.
This arrangement ultimately ensures that the overall leisure time remains unchanged, yet it creates a scenario where half the male population is completely unemployed while the other half is engaged in overwork. Consequently, this arrangement guarantees that the unavoidable leisure leads to universal unhappiness rather than fostering collective well-being. It is difficult to conceive of a more illogical scenario.
Despite the passage of time, the fundamental ethical premise persists: the lives of workers are deemed dignified, justified, and imbued with meaning exclusively through their engagement in work.
The prospect of a world where all individuals have more leisure time is conceivable.
In such a scenario, Russell posits that the pursuit of material 'success' would become secondary in importance, allowing individuals to allocate their energy towards artistic, intellectual, and social pursuits.The potential for human kindness towards one another would also be amplified.
The opportunity for contentedness in life, for ordinary men and women, will engender benevolence and a reduction in suspicion of others. It is the absence of this benevolence that is the most pressing moral issue of our age. The cultivation of benevolence is the result of ease and security, not of a life of arduous struggle.
It is imperative to recognise that greater leisure is not only pivotal for our individual wellbeing but also for the collective future of humanity.
The absence of leisure, concomitant with an over-specialisation in one's own industry, results in the diminution of the imaginative capacity required for societal progression.
The generation of novel ideas, values and philosophies is contingent on the presence of individuals who are not solely motivated by the pursuit of employment.
If the majority of people focus all their energies on work, in whose hands do we leave our future?
Russell's In Praise of Idleness is less a practical guide of solutions, and more a challenge to our existing values.
Rather than unquestioningly endorsing work as the most valuable, meaningful, and fulfilling use of our time, we should perhaps all start to question what else humanity might be for.
Modern methods of production have given us the possibility of ease and security for all; we have chosen, instead, to have overwork for some and starvation for the others.Hitherto, we have continued to be as energetic as we were before there were machines; in this, we have been foolish, but there is no reason to go on being foolish forever.
Suffering as a Catalyst for Positive Change
In this passage, the 20th-century thinker James Baldwin offers a compelling perspective on the potential for personal and collective healing through the transformative power of adversity.
In a 1962 talk entitled The Artist's Struggle for Integrity (collected in the anthology The Cross of Redemption), the writer James Baldwin suggests that the artist's struggle to create is an instructive metaphor for the broader human struggle to live.From the raw material of our lives, even our pain and angst and boredom, our task is to salvage beauty and promote connection.
Baldwin's assertion that "everybody's hurt" underscores the universal nature of this struggle. He emphasises the crucial nature of identifying a method to utilise this shared experience to forge connections with others, emphasising the necessity of finding a way to "connect you with everyone else alive".
A similar point is made by the renowned Jorge Luis Borges in his work Twenty-Four Conversations With Borges:
He states that all that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, and our embarrassments, is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.
In periods of adversity, Baldwin exhorts us to maintain our convictions, asserting that brighter days lie ahead and that we have the capacity to contribute to their creation for ourselves and others.
In this vein, Baldwin draws upon the thought of several prominent thinkers:
In this time, when a civilization is undergoing a decline, when it ceases to produce poets, and, more crucially, when it no longer believes in the report that only the poets can make, Baldwin's message is one of resilience and the importance of maintaining our faith.As Conrad once said, "Woe to that man who does not put his trust in life." Henry James echoed this sentiment, advising, "Live, live all you can. It's a mistake not to." Furthermore, Shakespeare's perspective, which is arguably the veracity of all individuals throughout their existence, asserts that 'Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.' Art's purpose is to demonstrate and assist in the acceptance that all perceived safety is an illusion.
Baldwin further elaborates on this sentiment, advising us on how to better withstand the uncertainty and instability that characterises the world.
One survives, no matter how... You survive this, and in some terrible way, which I suppose no one can ever describe, you are compelled, you are corralled, you are bullwhipped into dealing with whatever it is that hurt you.What is crucial here is that if it hurt you, that is not what's important.Everybody's hurt. What is pivotal, what compels, what torments, is the necessity to identify a method through which one can connect with others. This is the sole purpose. It is imperative to recognise that one's personal suffering is of minimal significance, except insofar as it can be utilised to establish a connection with the suffering experienced by others. The act of leveraging one's own suffering in this manner enables the process of personal release. It is my contention that, to the extent that I am able to articulate the nature of suffering, I may also be capable of facilitating a reduction in one's own suffering.
As Baldwin asserts, each individual endures their unique constellation of suffering, yet collective experience is a shared phenomenon.
One's acquaintances, relatives, and members of one's community may offer insights into the potential benefits of sharing personal experiences to foster connections with others grappling with similar challenges.
While not all individuals possess the capacity to liberate personal sentiments through grand public artworks, each individual exerts an influence on their own immediate environment on a daily basis.
As Aldous Huxley observes, while we are inherently incapable of experiencing each other's 'island universes', the construction of bridges is imperative. Iris Murdoch exhorts us to 'unself': to deflate our egos, to set aside our prejudices, and to pay proper attention to whichever vulnerable human being happens to be before us.Echoing this sentiment, Maya Angelou writes:
Each individual has experienced tribulation, solitude, and tempestuous circumstances, both literal and metaphorical. When confronted with others, it is crucial to recognise the sentiment expressed by Angelou: "I understand. I understand how you feel because I have been there myself."The onus falls upon us to provide mutual support and empathy, recognising the commonalities that bind us over our differences.
Baldwin's observations also evoke Friedrich Nietzsche's insight that suffering is exacerbated by triviality or meaninglessness, as articulated in The Genealogy of Morals:
The meaninglessness of suffering, and not suffering itself, has been the curse that has hitherto hung over mankind.
Baldwin's proposal that we derive a purpose from our pain through the establishment of connections with others is therefore a compelling one: by endowing our suffering with meaning, we are able to dispel the curse and alleviate our burden.
In a similar vein, Nietzsche propounds the notion that suffering can be a catalyst for not only intimacy but also greatness.
While Stoic philosophers advocate for the rationalisation of suffering, Nietzsche's perspective is that it is an inevitable and integral aspect of the human experience.
As Nietzsche articulates in The Gay Science:
Only great pain is the ultimate liberator of the spirit… I doubt that such pain makes us 'better'; but I know that it makes us more profound.
Stoics Of A Broken World
The Stoics on What to Do When the World Feels Broken
The Stoics, Toni Morrison, and Jane Goodall on confronting uncertain times with collective strength and understanding, rather than isolated pain and fear.
Irrespective of political allegiances and geographical location, it can be posited that the present moment is characterised by a pervasive sense of dissonance and instability.
Nations at war, politicians hurling vitriol, citizens snarling at one another online — all against a backdrop of ecosystems quietly disappearing from the planet, never to be seen again.
The incessant 24-hour news cycle further exacerbates the sense of anxiety surrounding these events.The pervasive presence of cataclysmic news stories in both traditional and social media formats serves to perpetuate a state of constant, unrelenting anxiety.
The carefully curated content, incentivised and thus designed to entice and retain the viewer's attention, perpetuates a state of perpetual anxiety for more information. This content is consumed with a sense of desperation, akin to the need for seawater, despite the awareness that it will never fully satiate the viewer's thirst for knowledge, and the inability to regulate this urge.
As the 20th-century philosopher Hannah Arendt laments in her collection of essays, Thinking Without A Banister:
The most challenging aspect, she asserts, lies in loving the world as it is, with all its evils and sufferings.
The question arises as to how individuals can focus on their own lives and wellbeing when confronted with the seemingly obligatory consideration of external events. How can individuals overcome the pervasive sense of impending doom that is perpetuated by incessant notifications? How can individuals maintain a sense of contentment in their daily lives when confronted with the pervasive strife that characterises the wider world?
In this regard, Stoic philosophy proffers a substantial corpus of guidance.
One such tenet is Epictetus's well-known dichotomy of control, which asserts that individuals should attach their wellbeing exclusively to that which they have the capacity to influence. The philosophy encourages individuals to recognise that external circumstances do not determine their emotions; rather, they are the environment within which they operate. Consequently, it is recommended that individuals focus their energies on actions within this environment that contribute to a fulfilling life for themselves and others.
However, it must be noted that this approach may not be immediately applicable to all, as the ability to disengage from feelings of anxiety about the future or from feelings of compassion for others is not necessarily a simple feat.
The Stoics, however, do not advocate the suppression of such feelings; rather, they propose a constructive reframing of them.
In his discussion of Stoicism and emotions, Seneca reassures us that our horror towards a catastrophic news story is a perfectly natural reaction, and that such feelings can be described as 'first movements'. He further elaborates that shock, fear and angst are all natural physiological reactions that simply happen to us, and over which we have no control.
The focal point of Stoic philosophy, as expounded by Epictetus and Seneca, lies in our subsequent actions.
The question arises as to whether we should permit the initial emotional response to escalate into a state of irrationality, uncontrollability, and life-destroying hopelessness or rage. Alternatively, we could seek to gather our thoughts and emotions under the banner of sound judgment.
In his Meditations, Marcus Aurelius offers perspicacious counsel on the tempering of unsettled feelings:
He advises against undue concern, suggesting that individuals should not allow their thoughts to be dominated by the prospect of future suffering. Instead, he encourages the examination of present circumstances, advising that one should ask oneself what aspects of each situation are truly unendurable and unbearable. It is likely that such introspection will reveal aspects of our present that we may find challenging.
The future may appear daunting or dismal, yet it remains inherently uncertain. We will address the events that transpire in due course; it is the present that demands our immediate attention.
In order to redirect our focus to the present, we are advised to inquire whether we are currently in danger or confronted with an insurmountable task.Marcus hypothesizes that many individuals will experience feelings of embarrassment when confronted with the realization that their apprehensions regarding the future are largely influenced by their own imaginings, which are often unhelpful and unnecessary.
This sense of embarrassment is echoed by the renowned writer Toni Morrison, who in a 2015 essay for The Nation urged that our response to crises should have, as the essay's title has it, No Place for Self Pity, No Room for Fear.
Morrison recounts how her personal disillusionment with the world prompted a swift response from a friend, who advised her not to be cowed when things do not go as desired, and that this is precisely the moment to commence her work.
In a series of passages that have been widely lauded for their rhetorical force, Morrison writes:
I am gazing out of the window in a state of extreme desolation, feeling powerless.At that moment, a companion, a fellow artist, contacts me to extend holiday greetings. He inquires about my well-being, and instead of the customary "Oh, fine — and you?", I spontaneously disclose the truth: "Not well. The artist confesses to being not only depressed, but also unable to work or write, feeling as though he is paralysed and unable to continue work on his novel. He states that this is the first time he has ever felt this way and is on the verge of explaining himself further when he is interrupted by his friend, who exclaims, "No! No, no, no! This is precisely the time when artists go to work — not when everything is fine, but in times of dread. This is precisely the role of the artist."
I experienced a sense of inadequacy throughout the remainder of the morning, particularly when I reflected upon the artists who had been compelled to create within the confines of gulags, prison cells, and hospital beds; who had to undertake their artistic endeavours whilst facing relentless persecution, exile, vilification, and condemnation.Not to mention those who were subjected to execution.
This is precisely the time when artists must go to work, for there is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear.We must speak, we must write, we must do language. It is through this that civilisations heal.
While acknowledging the prevailing challenges, it is crucial to resist succumbing to the pernicious influence of malevolence.Chaos, akin to failure, harbours latent potential, offering insights that can be transformed into knowledge and wisdom, much like artistic endeavours.
We may be tempted to retreat into our inner citadels and focus on self-preservation, but as Morrison asserts, action is the greatest liberator of fear and anxiety.
This is a fundamental aspect of Stoic philosophy that is often overlooked. Indeed, the Stoics emphasised the importance of self-reflection, the release of attachments to external factors, and the cultivation of personal virtue.
However, this constitutes merely a fraction of the Stoic philosophy. Indeed, the tenets of Stoic cosmopolitanism mandate that individuals should first cultivate themselves in order to subsequently engage with the external world and make a positive contribution to it.
The dichotomy of control does not imply the disregard of external factors; rather, it signifies the attribution of personal well-being to our own endeavours to enhance it, through the cultivation of moral integrity towards ourselves and our peers.
Rather than being overwhelmed by seemingly insurmountable and complex global issues, or being engulfed in an incessant stream of urgent and turbulent news, we empower ourselves to concentrate our energies on living a good life in the present moment.
The Stoics emphasise that all individuals are interconnected, forming part of a single global community. Consequently, by enhancing our personal capabilities, we contribute to the enhancement of the world.Action, in its various forms, whether political, artistic or even a modest act of kindness per day, is instrumental in effecting change.As Marcus counsels:
One's actions should be in the manner of a vine yielding grapes, independent of any expectation of reciprocity.
The philosophy of Stoic cosmopolitanism is predicated on the belief — or, perhaps more accurately, the hope — that a vast collective of such vines will construct a superior world, one that is more in accordance with the rational order of the cosmos (logos).
In the context of Stoicism, it is important to note that the term "hope" may be perceived as controversial. However, it is not the passive hope that yearns for better times and is devastated if they do not arrive. Such a hope is considered anathema to the Stoic philosophy.
Instead, the focus is on a form of faith that is context-independent, serving as a motivating and justifying force for good action. This faith asserts that the creation of a better life for oneself and others is contingent on individual decision-making, leading to the release of attachment to external circumstances and the prioritisation of personal joy (chara) in one's endeavours. Good action, in this context, is considered to be inherently rewarding. This faith asserts that the ultimate 'prize' in our quest for the good life is the knowledge that we have done the best we can.This is the abiding hope offered by Stoic cosmopolitanism.
The eminent primatologist Jane Goodall proffers a congruent interpretation of hope in her seminal work, The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times:
The term "hope" is frequently misinterpreted, often regarded as passive wishful thinking, as if to hope for something to happen without taking action. However, this interpretation is antithetical to the essence of genuine hope, which necessitates engagement and action.
The overconsumption of information, therefore, is unlikely to engender a more hopeful and empowered version of oneself; indeed, the news does not require a hopeful, empowered version of oneself, but this is essential for oneself and for the world.
As articulated by the 18th-century Irish novelist Maria Edgeworth,
Those who are animated by hope are capable of accomplishing the seemingly impossible, in contrast to those who are under the depressing influence of fear.
Heidegger believed that personal catastrophe could serve as a catalyst for introspection and the rediscovery of a more authentic life path.This notion of renewal potentially extends beyond the individual to society as a whole.
It is recommended that individuals allocate sufficient time for introspection, disengage from external distractions, prioritise familial relationships, and engage in deep breathing exercises. This approach involves recalibrating one's sense of well-being, shifting the focus from broader external circumstances to one's personal efforts within these circumstances.
Once prepared, one can then turn outward once more with optimism and re-enter the world.
How To Critique The Opposing Side
John Stuart Mill and Daniel Dennett on the Methodology of Critiquing 'the Other Side'
The following rules of engagement are proposed by John Stuart Mill and Daniel Dennett: if one does not attempt to understand the opposing view, then one does not understand one's own...
In the 1990s, the American lawyer Mike Godwin observed that those embroiled in online debates were prone to accusing each other of Nazism.
This phenomenon, which has gained significant traction within the online discourse, is now recognised as Godwin's Law, a term that has gained cult status within the internet community.The formal formulation of Godwin's Law, as outlined by Wikipedia, is as follows:
The likelihood of a person or persons being compared to Hitler or another Nazi increases in proportion to the length of the discussion.
A cursory examination of social media platforms reveals that, despite its provenance in the 1990s, Godwin's Law continues to hold relevance in the contemporary era. What commenced as a whimsical observation within the confines of an online community has metamorphosed into a condemnatory critique of the most pervasive form of communication in human history.
Rather than collaborating to find solutions, it appears that many individuals online are more interested in 'winning' the debate and portraying their opponents as a broad-brush of evil.
Driven by the need for validation through likes and shares, individuals who can succinctly disparage their opponents, preferably in a tweet-length format, are lauded by their respective groups.
The deployment of derogatory labels such as 'Nazi' is a common practice, but other terms of a similar nature are employed with the same intent, including 'fascist', 'communist' and 'woke'.
The question of the precise connotations of these terms is, in this context, irrelevant. What is important is the sentiment they signify: that the person or group being criticised is intellectually and morally deficient, and deserving of contempt.
It is evident that tribalism has existed for a considerable period prior to the advent of the internet, which merely serves to amplify the reach and delineate the boundaries of these groups through the medium of rhetoric.
In order to circumvent the unsavoury and unseemly verbal confrontations that characterise such environments, it may be advisable to disengage from the platforms and forums where such discourse is most prevalent. This could entail abstaining from social media, news outlets, and comment sections, thereby ensuring an existence unencumbered by unwarranted and irrational discourse.
As has been attributed to George Bernard Shaw (though the attribution is uncertain),
"Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, and the pig likes it."
This adage, often attributed to George Bernard Shaw, offers a compelling perspective on engaging in good faith debate, particularly when it appears to be unattainable.
However, when the stakes of a discussion are high, withdrawing to preserve our own sanity might be perceived as irresponsible.Addressing this viewpoint is crucial.
The question therefore arises as to how such differences can be resolved, and how individuals can more effectively engage with those who hold divergent views.
Historically, philosophers have engaged in profound debates on emotionally charged subjects for millennia, including the organisation of society, the foundations of belief, and the principles of human existence.
Consequently, a number of robust 'rules of engagement' have been formulated to facilitate discussions without undue antagonism. These principles may offer valuable insights for the management of disagreements in various contexts, including political, religious, social, economic, and other domains.
A notable illustration of this can be found in the following passage from John Stuart Mill's 1859 work On Liberty:
He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that.His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them.But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side, if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion…
Moreover, it is insufficient for an individual to merely hear the perspectives of opponents from their own instructors, as presented, along with the refutations offered by these instructors. It is imperative that one is able to hear these perspectives from individuals who genuinely hold these views, and to understand them in their most convincing and persuasive form.
The late philosopher Daniel Dennett also emphasised the importance of comprehending the opposing view in depth.
In his 2013 work Intuition Pumps and Other Tools for Thinking, Dennett distils a list of rules inspired by game theorist Anatol Rapoport — a list that philosophy professors now often share with their first-year students:
The following is a list of instructions on how to compose a successful critical commentary:
1. One should endeavour to re-express the standpoint of the target so lucidly, vividly and fairly that the target conveys their appreciation by remarking, "I am grateful for your articulation of this perspective."
Secondly, it is essential to enumerate any points of agreement, with a particular emphasis on those that do not align with commonly held or widely acknowledged views.
3. Any insights gained from the target should be acknowledged.
Only after these steps have been completed may one proceed with a rebuttal or criticism.
This approach respects the other person as an actual human being, rather than as a nameless representative of some 'other' or 'enemy'. It also cleverly transforms them into a more receptive audience for criticism.
When an interlocutor endeavours to comprehend and articulate one's perspective with fairness, it engenders a sense of respect, signifies that one has been heard, and fosters the likelihood of collaborative efforts to identify a mutually agreed point of difference, or at the very least, a resolution.
However, it is important to recognise that expecting this level of considered reasonableness in unregulated online spaces may be a naïve expectation. Even philosophers, regarded as intellectuals, do not consistently adhere to this standard. Indeed, many renowned works are replete with examples of name-calling and ad hominem attacks.For instance, Schopenhauer's critique of Hegel in The World as Will and Representation (Vol. II) is a prime example of this phenomenon, and was written long before the advent of the internet.
Hegel, elevated to the status of a 'certified Great Philosopher' by the powers that be, was, in Schopenhauer's opinion, a charlatan of insipid and nauseating ideas, devoid of literary merit.
Even the most esteemed figures in the realm of 'rational thinking' are not immune to criticism, highlighting the inherent weaknesses, blind spots, and irritations that characterize human nature.The adoption of Mill and Dennett's principles of engagement does not serve to alter this fundamental truth.
While the internet in its entirety may not be remedied by their counsel, it is conceivable that by maintaining these principles as a point of reference, we might foster more cordial and productive disagreements.
At the very least, we can make a difference by embodying the change we want to see in the world, and try to approach people with different views sensitively and civilly (even if, on particularly loaded topics, we won't always succeed).
Ultimately, it can be posited that all individuals on this planet are inherently vulnerable human beings seeking a fulfilling life.Engaging in calm dialogue, actively listening to one another's unique and valuable perspectives, and examining issues beyond superficial rhetoric to fundamental principles may lead to the realisation that there is considerably more common ground than initially perceived.
A Consideration of Transformative Decision-Making
When confronted with 'transformative' decisions, such as becoming a parent, Paul contends that it is irrational to base such decisions on the notion of which path will lead to the greatest personal happiness, as it is impossible to know with absolute certainty. Instead, she asserts that we should evaluate whether embarking on a particular path is worthwhile for the sake of the revelations it will yield.
In one of my favourite passages from his 1984 novel The Unbearable Lightness of Being, the late Czech writer Milan Kundera writes:
Human life transpires but once, and the rationale behind the inability to ascertain the distinction between favourable and unfavourable decisions is that within a particular circumstance, one is afforded but a single decision; no opportunity to compare alternative decisions is granted.
This captures the essence of why major life decisions — what to do, where to live, who to love — cause such profound disquiet: they fix our lives down a particular path from which we can never return.
This predicament gives rise to the question of how one should approach the major crossroads of life, and whether there exists a set of principles to guide such decisions.
A significant challenge inherent in major life decisions is their potential to entail transformative experiences, as defined by contemporary philosopher Laurie Ann Paul.
Paul defines transformative experiences as having two key characteristics: firstly, you cannot know what they are like until you undergo them, and secondly, they alter you in profound ways.
These experiences are thus both 'epistemically' and 'personally' transformative: one acquires previously inaccessible knowledge of what it is to undergo a certain experience, and – crucially – one is also radically changed by it, with the way one thinks and views the world being reconfigured.
Examples of such experiences include the onset of parenthood, the loss of a loved one, undergoing major surgery, achieving overnight fame, winning an Olympic gold medal, the loss of a limb, the experience of divorce, undergoing a religious conversion, or gaining vision as a blind person.
While the imagination may be able to partially grasp the nature of such events, Paul contends that a comprehensive understanding of them is only attainable through direct experience.As she elucidates in her 2014 book Transformative Experience,
The epistemic inaccessibility of the experience of bereavement, such as the loss of a child, spouse, or parent, may be part of what underlies the resentment of the bereaved towards comments from those who have not experienced such a loss and who offer platitudes such as 'I understand what you are going through'.
A similar observation can be found in Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling:
He asserts that no generation can truly learn from a predecessor about what it means to be human, and that each generation must therefore begin anew.
As Paul succinctly summarises, an encounter with a transformative experience
teaches something new, something that one could not have known before having the experience, while also effecting a change in the individual.
This prompts the question of how we should approach the decision-making process in situations where transformative experiences are involved.
Paul suggests that a significant factor contributing to the complexity of such decisions is the fact that, in the presence of transformative experiences, our conventional decision-making processes often prove ineffective.
To illustrate this, consider a scenario in which one is at a café, deliberating over breakfast options. Examining the menu, which is replete with familiar dishes, one can effortlessly envision the future self relishing – or not – each option. Based on the prevailing preferences, a subjective value can be ascribed to each option. The rational choice is evident: if the objective is to maximise value for the future self, the breakfast that is anticipated to be most relished should be selected.
However, when we apply this approach to decisions involving transformative experiences, we encounter two problems:
Firstly, it is not possible to accurately assign subjective value to transformative kinds of experience that have not been personally undergone.
Once an individual elects to undergo a transformative experience, it is imperative to acknowledge that a profound and often unpredictable transformation will ensue. Consequently, it is essential to recognise that one's current preferences may not serve as an accurate predictor of future preferences.
To illustrate this point, consider the decision-making process involved in choosing to become a parent. Prior to the experience of parenthood, it is impossible to accurately predict the subjective experience of becoming a parent.
While one may have previously engaged in childcare, whether for others' children or for a younger sibling, or may have received testimonies from other parents, the precise and multifaceted ways in which a child will influence one's inner life remain unknowable.As Paul articulates it:
The specific characteristics of your offspring, including their dispositions, inclinations, health, physical abilities, and cognitive and emotional development, will have a substantial impact on your life as a parent.The character of many hours of your waking life will be composed of experiences that are the direct effects of the features of the actual child that you produce.
The implications of this transformation extend beyond the realm of knowledge, profoundly impacting individuals' personal identities. The transition to parenthood is accompanied by significant hormonal shifts in both males and females, with fathers undergoing notable changes and mothers facing substantial biological, neurophysiological, and hormonal adjustments during and following childbirth.
The impact of these changes on individuals' priorities and preferences is, as Paul writes, something that cannot be anticipated by prospective parents.
The impact of parenthood can be both positive and negative, and while it may be characterized by feelings of joy and happiness, it is often accompanied by significant emotional upheaval. Individuals who have become parents often report a transformation in their perspectives and values, highlighting the profound impact of this life event on personal identity and priorities.
The challenge lies in the fact that, due to the transformative nature of parenthood, it is often difficult to predict how one's core preferences will evolve. The transition to parenthood can lead to a shift in priorities, potentially resulting in a reduced focus on one's career or education, and a redefined sense of personal identity. Concerns regarding the welfare of one's child may take precedence over one's own well-being, and the intensity of love for one's partner or pet may undergo a transformation.
The eventualities are numerous and unpredictable, and as such, it is not possible to assign a subjective value to the experience of having a child.
The rationality of such decisions is thus rendered unattainable, as the experience of parenthood remains unknown to us until it is personally undergone. Consequently, the subjective value of parenthood cannot be ascribed.
Furthermore, even if such an ability to assign a subjective value to 'having a child' was recognised, the ability to predict changes in preferences post-childbirth remains elusive.
Consequently, regardless of the rigour of cost-benefit analyses, the depth and diversity of gathered testimony, or the obsessiveness of research and future modelling, the 'right', 'correct' or 'rational' decision remains unattainable.
This is particularly the case in the context of transformative decisions, where the future is inherently uncertain and the potential for change is profound.
Consequently, the question arises as to how we should proceed and what factors could inform our transformative decisions.
Given the impossibility of assigning subjective value to an unknowable future experience, and the inability to predict how that future experience will change us, Paul believes that transformative decisions should be made without predefined expectations.
In order to proceed rationally, Paul suggests that we should not attempt to weigh against an unknown future value, but instead take a step back and consider the value of the experience itself, whether or not it is discovered. She writes:
The decision of whether to embark upon the journey of self-discovery and the subsequent exploration of the unfolding of one's life in the context of this novel experience is at the discretion of the individual.
She asserts that, in contrast to the assessment of future values, the consideration of revelatory values is a rational approach.
Rather than posing questions such as 'which path will make me happier?' or 'which path is better?', Paul proposes alternative interrogations: 'Do I deem the revelatory value of the path itself worth it? Do I want to gain insight into what this path is like? Do I want to discover who I'll become down this path? Or does the revelation carry no appeal?' Am I satisfied with my current preferences, and uninterested in seeing how this new, undiscovered kind of experience will change them?'
The process of making transformative decisions can be challenging, but refraining from seeking a 'better' or 'correct' answer can be liberating.It is important to recognise that one cannot predict how one will feel or who one will become, and therefore it is unwise to base the decision on these factors.
Instead, the decision should be based on whether the experience itself is of greater value to the individual than its potential to alter them, irrespective of the form that change might take.As Paul articulates it:
The choice to undergo a transformative experience and its subsequent outcomes is made for the sake of the experience itself, even if this entails a future that involves stress, suffering, or pain.
When considering the decision to procreate, Paul counsels against basing the choice on the anticipation of parenthood, or on how one might feel during this period, as these are unreliable guides. Instead, he advises basing the decision on the aspiration to discover what it is like to be a parent, and the manner in which this role will shape one's identity. As Paul writes:
The decision to embark on the journey of parenthood, with its myriad of emotional fluctuations, profound changes, and shifts in priorities, is not one that is made based on preconceived notions of what it will entail. Rather, it is an act of volition, driven by the desire to explore the depths of personal transformation that come with the role of a parent.
Conversely, the decision to remain childfree entails the conscious choice to forgo this potential journey of self-discovery. This choice is not driven by the thought, 'I know it won't make me happy' (because that is unknowable), but rather by a personal assessment of which experiences are more compelling.
While one may engage in extensive research and gather abundant testimony, the ultimate decision boils down to a personal evaluation of which revelations one deems worthwhile, and which domains of human experience one wishes to explore.
Life is characterised by a series of revelations that profoundly alter our identity.
Decisions such as whether to start a family, relocate to another country, or pursue a new career path are often of significant personal importance. However, as Paul notes, the available evidence is often limited when it comes to informing such decisions.
As Kundera noted at the outset of this article, a fundamental aspect of the existential condition of human life is the inability to revisit past decisions and experiment with different options; we are confined to making a single commitment.
The futility of calculation is evident in this context, as the values being calculated are unknown to us, and even if they were, the relevance of the result to our changed, future selves is dubious.Given the constraints of all else being equal, it can be concluded that there is no option that is objectively better than another. Instead, there are simply different options, which we will adapt to as we live them.
This may be a source of frustration, yet it should also partly free us from the impulse to obsessively plan our futures, as we cannot know what is best.
Consequently, significant life changes, such as relocating to a new country or pursuing an alternate career, are approached with an openness to transformation rather than fixed expectations or a sense of future gratification.
The value of discovery is weighed against that of non-discovery, and whether the revelation is deemed to be worth it, and whether the discovery and the subsequent unpredictable change intrigues. The path is chosen not because it is known to be 'better' for the individual (because such knowledge is impossible), but because it is the path that is of most interest to experience in one's one and only existence.
As Paul articulates it:
The lesson of transformative experience, therefore, is that if one is to choose rationally, one is compelled to face one's future as Marlow does in Conrad's Heart of Darkness, as he sails along the coast of Africa, watching it slip by the ship like an enigma. The coast, as observed by Marlow, is characterised by its ability to evoke a range of emotions, from inviting to insipid, and always silent, as if to suggest an invitation to explore its intricacies.
When confronted with life's transformative choices, individuals must introspect and discern whether to embark on the uncharted terrain of self-discovery or to remain on the familiar path.
While these decisions may be presented as well-researched and considered, in essence, major crossroads in our lives are leaps of faith.We are responsible for these decisions, yet it is important to recognise the limited control we have over their outcomes.
It is important to recognise that blaming oneself or others is unproductive in the face of outcomes that diverge from initial expectations. Instead, the value of such experiences should be acknowledged, as it is often the case that transformative decisions are made with full awareness of the potential consequences.
Life, as Paul suggests, is more akin to a game of chance than one of prediction, and as such, we should adjust our approach accordingly.
A life lived rationally and authentically, then, as each big decision is encountered, involves deciding whether or how to make a discovery about who one will become.If revelation comes from experience, independently of the (first-order) pleasure or pain of the experience, there can be value in discovering how one's preferences and lived experience develop, simply for what such experience teaches. The game of Revelation, therefore, is of paramount importance, and is played not for the sake of victory, but for the sake of the game itself.
Look For A Way Of Life
Hunter S. Thompson's philosophy, as outlined in his work, is predicated on the notion that individuals should not seek goals, but rather, should seek a way of life.
The following discourse seeks to explore the question of how individuals might gain more meaning and fulfilment from life. In this regard, it is proposed that the following formula, offered by the young Hunter S. Thompson, is remarkably shrewd.
In 1958, a 20-year-old Hunter S. Thompson's friend was grappling with the search for a sense of purpose and fulfilment in life. In a letter featured in Shaun Usher's Letters of Note, Thompson eloquently articulated a lesson derived from a diverse array of philosophies, encompassing Buddhism and existentialism.
The lesson articulated is as follows: in order to live meaningfully, it is not advisable to pursue predetermined, pre-established goals; rather, the cultivation of a distinct way of life should be the objective.
However, the question remains: what does this entail? More specifically, what manner of life should one seek to cultivate, and why should this take precedence over the achievement of objectives?
Thompson's position is that "all advice can only be a product of the person who gives it" (Thompson, 2023).
The assertion is made that each individual is the culmination of their responses to experience, and it is further posited that as one's experiences vary and accumulate, one's identity and, by extension, one's perspective, undergo a transformation. This process of continuous learning and perspective alteration is further compounded by the fact that every significant experience serves as a catalyst for change.
Consequently, it appears unwise to adjust one's life to the demands of a goal that is perceived from a changing perspective on a daily basis. How can we aspire to achieve anything other than a state of rapidly evolving neurosis?
It can be argued that the pursuit of tangible goals is unwise, and that we should not adjust our lives to meet these goals. Instead, we should strive to be ourselves.
It is important to avoid the misinterpretation that personal goals should be set aside entirely. Rather, the emphasis should be on the pursuit of personal fulfilment, rather than the pursuit of personal fulfilment being dictated by external goals.
Goals are static entities, whereas human beings are not. If we seek to add meaning or purpose to our lives by focusing intently on some new and exciting objective or achievement, we risk limiting our own potential, stifling our growth, and denying the possibility of who we might become.
This is not to say that goals are to be eschewed; rather, it is to be noted that they should not be placed in a position of primacy.
In every individual, heredity and environment have combined to produce a creature of certain abilities and desires, including a deeply ingrained need to function in such a way that his life will be meaningful.A man has to be something; he has to matter.
In my estimation, the formula for achieving this can be outlined as follows: an individual must select a path that will enable their abilities to function at maximum efficiency in pursuit of their desires.
In doing so, he fulfils a need (giving himself identity by functioning in a set pattern towards a set goal), he avoids frustrating his potential (choosing a path which puts no limit on his self-development), and he avoids the terror of seeing his goal wilt or lose its charm as he draws closer to it (rather than bending himself to meet the demands of that which he seeks, he has bent his goal to conform to his own abilities and desires).
In summary, Thompson's approach does not entail the dedication of his life to the pursuit of a predetermined goal; rather, he opts for a lifestyle he deems enjoyable. The goal itself becomes of secondary importance; what matters is the process of functioning towards that goal.
Rather than constructing an existence based on specific objectives, Thompson encourages his friend to reflect on the alignment between his capabilities and his aspirations.What are his strengths? What activities does he find fulfilling? What pursuits hold value for him?
The same process can be applied to oneself, and it is important to consider which activities one values. These may include creation, helping others, reading, writing, working with numbers, being outdoors, working with animals, singing, dancing, playing sport, travelling, learning, building, painting, interacting with others, simplifying, predicting, designing, fixing, cooking, or challenging oneself.
Goals provide structure and an organizing framework; however, if the activities associated with achieving these goals are not enjoyed or valued, it is unlikely that a happy and fulfilling life will be led.
While a promotion may offer a fleeting sense of satisfaction, if it comes at the cost of engaging in activities that provide personal fulfilment, challenges that stimulate growth, or problems that demand resolution, then its impact on overall contentment and purpose may be negligible.
In the pursuit of purposeful, meaningful, and enjoyable lives, individuals should be guided by their own values and aspirations rather than by external conventions that prioritize factors such as financial gain, status, and power. As Thompson asserts:
It appears almost absurd to suggest that an individual must function within a pattern of their own choosing, for to allow another to define one's own goals is to relinquish one of life's most meaningful aspects: the definitive act of will that distinguishes an individual.
A tendency towards procrastination in decision-making can result in the choice being made for the individual by circumstance. Those who find themselves disenchanted with this state of affairs are obliged to either accept the situation or seek an alternative. It is important to be mindful of the distinction between seeking goals and seeking a way of life. It is advisable to first decide how one wishes to live and then to seek a livelihood that aligns with that way of life.
A possible reaction to this line of thinking might be the following: "But what if I don't know how I want to live? What then?" Thompson anticipates this very response from his friend:
The crux of the matter, as Thompson posits, is whether one should relinquish the present in pursuit of a hypothetical ideal. The onus, therefore, falls upon the individual to determine the worth of such a sacrifice. It is, however, pertinent to note that the decision to seek betterment is not one that can be made on another's behalf. Only the individual can truly ascertain the merits of such a choice. Nevertheless, even the act of seeking signifies a significant step towards making a decision.
It is not my intention to encourage you to embark on an extensive journey in pursuit of an idealised state of existence; rather, I wish to emphasise the possibility of rejecting the predefined choices that life has presented to you.There are indeed more options available to you than simply acquiescing to the decisions that have been imposed upon you.
While it is true that we may not have all the answers immediately, or be certain of our desired future course of action, this does not mean that we should accept the circumstances of our existence without question.
Indeed, the first step on the path to a better way of life is the decision to cultivate one.
The philosophy underpinning Thompson's approach is founded on the premise that prioritising the refinement of processes supersedes the pursuit of specific outcomes. This philosophy draws from the fertile intellectual traditions of Nietzsche, who expounds on the concept of self-discovery, the Buddha, who cautions against the perils of identity fixation, and Kierkegaard, who expounds on the imperative of living as if one is destined for posterity. The Stoic dichotomy of control is also discussed, as well as the approach to transformative decisions proposed by Laurie Ann Paul. Other philosophers covered include Sartre, who is discussed in terms of 'bad faith'; Heidegger, who is discussed in terms of authenticity; and Iris Murdoch, who is discussed in terms of unselfing. Finally, Kieran Setiya is discussed in terms of setting better resolutions.
Questions As A Child
Do you recall posing philosophical questions during your childhood?
If one were to posit the existence of a day prior to the present day, and a day prior to that, and so on, would it follow that one could continue in this fashion indefinitely?
In his 1997 memoir Confessions of a Philosopher, the late thinker Bryan Magee recollects how he began to ponder philosophical problems from a young age, with the world presenting him with perplexing puzzles that captivated his youthful inquisitiveness.
It is possible that the reader may also recall pondering such puzzles during their own childhood.
For instance, one might ponder the question of whether a day can be preceded by another, and another, and yet another, to infinite repetition, or whether the number of days is finite.
In addition to grappling with the concept of time, the 9-year-old Magee confronted challenges in her contemplations of space.
A pertinent question he posed was whether one could continue to travel in a single direction indefinitely, or whether there was a limit to the extent of space.
Magee's contemplation of the inception and cessation of time and space gave rise to a conundrum: if a beginning could be ascribed to space and time, it would necessarily follow that there existed nothing prior to that inception.
However, if this were the case, then the subsequent query was how any phenomenon could possibly come into existence from such a state of nonexistence.
The young Magee found himself consumed by this conundrum, and he believed he lacked some crucial element.As Magee writes, "There were adults who I thought at first might be able to help me,"
However, their responses only served to exacerbate his perplexity.On the one hand, some professed an inability to resolve the issue, swiftly transitioning to unrelated topics as if this question lacked even the slightest interest. On the other hand, there were those who dismissed it with disdain, offering derisive comments such as, 'Oh, you shouldn't concern yourself with such trivial matters...'
Magee expressed his discontent, remarking, "If they were unable as I was to answer the question,"
How could they feel superior to it? Why were they not disconcerted, and why did they not find it even interesting?After several perplexing rebuffs, I ceased to engage with others on the topic and instead focused on reflecting upon it independently.
The question that guided this inquiry was: why do children often excel in the field of philosophy?
In my interview with contemporary philosopher Scott Hershovitz on this topic, he advanced two main reasons why children make surprisingly brilliant philosophers:
Firstly, their limited world knowledge means they are constantly perplexed by the world around them. This perplexity extends to the things other people take for granted or the standard explanations of phenomena. They are constantly observing the world around them and asking questions, such as the basis for authority, the size of the universe, or any other topic that captures their imagination.
Secondly, it is evident that the subjects demonstrate a remarkable degree of intellectual audacity, attributable to a number of factors. They exhibit a notable reluctance to be daunted by the prospect of error, a characteristic that is evidenced by their consistent propensity to err. Moreover, the subjects do not perceive errors as a source of embarrassment.
Hershovitz provides compelling illustrations of inquiries posed by children that delve deeply into philosophical subjects.
For instance, a boy named Ian, unable to watch his preferred television channel because three other people were intent on watching something else, poses the following question:
This prompts a thought-provoking inquiry into the relative merits of selfishness versus altruism, encapsulated by the provocative question, "Why is it better for three people to be selfish than one?"
Hershovitz comments that this is perhaps his favourite question in the book.
The child who posed this question, Ian, has not yet been influenced by societal norms in making decisions, and thus this is the first instance in which he has encountered the notion that the satisfaction of multiple individuals should take precedence over that of a single individual. His inquiry represents a challenge to certain economic perspectives regarding the world, namely the notion that the primary objective should be to maximize the satisfaction of people's preferences. Moreover, it poses a compelling challenge to the very foundations of democracy. By questioning the premise that self-interest is a valid basis for decision-making, it challenges the very tenets of democratic principles.
Ian's inquiry is a noteworthy one, as it exemplifies the type of question that children pose with apparent ease, thereby challenging established social practices.
Those who are attentive to such inquiries will find themselves noticing children making comments and posing questions that are of a philosophical interest.