AN ESSAY
Over the last few weeks, I have been delving deeper into Aristotle's Politics. In a previous essay, I wrote that I had begun to read Aristotle with more forgiveness. Now, I can confidently say that some of his ideas actually "work" for me. I no longer cast a suspicious eye on everything he writes. Rather, I closely evaluate his arguments to parse points that make sense to me.
In the past, I criticized Aristotle because he was too metaphysical. He presumed that everything on earth has an identifiable "purpose," and that absolute "truth" was obtainable by analyzing various interactions between "purposes." I first read Aristotle when I was college. At the time, I was making discoveries about my own sexuality. Aristotle's metaphysics appeared to argue against "non-procreative" sexuality because "male sexual organs" and "female sexual organs" have absolute, reproductive "purposes." Accordingly, using sexual organs for purposes beyond procreation amounted to "misuse." It is not surprising that the medieval Church and the modern Catholic Church closely read Aristotle. They used this very argument to demonize all sexuality-- with special vehemence reserved for homosexuality.
But a much different picture emerged when I sat down to read Aristotle again. Rather than condemning homosexuality as an abomination--as I always assumed he did, without ever reading as much--he espoused a much less judgmental attitude. To the contrary, he seemed to echo my own belief that homosexuality exists in nature, and that it makes little sense to condemn it. See, e.g., http://reasoncommercejustice.blogspot.com/2009/01/oesterhoudt-strikes.html.
In analyzing the Spartan Constitution, for example, Aristotle reasons as a biologist, observing: "[C]ertainly all people seem compulsively attracted by sexual relations, either with males or females." The Politics, Book II, Ch. ix ¶ 1269b23. Earlier in the same paragraph, he actually praises "societies in which male homosexuality is openly esteemed," because male-centered societies--unlike Sparta--tend to keep avaricious women in check. Id. Aristotle believed that males "naturally" ruled females; thus, it was more an abomination to tolerate females "ruling" men than to allow males to have sex with each other. But in the final analysis, Aristotle suggests that sexuality is natural, no matter whether it involves males or females. Human beings are simply "compulsively attracted" by sexual relations. And that "compulsion" does not draw a bright gender line.
Aristotle does not simply conclude that homosexuality is natural. He even observes that homosexuality performs an essential State function by restraining birthrates. In analyzing the Cretan Constitution, he notes that the lawgiver actually prescribed "sexual relations between males" in order to "keep[] down the birthrate." The Politics, Book II, Ch. x ¶ 1272a12. He also notes that the lawgiver strictly separated males and females in order to prevent unnecessary pregnancies. Id. Put another way, the Cretan lawgiver understood that all human beings are "compulsively attracted by sexual relations" with each other, so he allowed both men and women to find sexual outlets in a manner that would not bankrupt the Kingdom by overpopulation.
I found this fascinating for several reasons. First, I never thought that a classical philosopher--let alone Aristotle--would argue that homosexuality could actually be exploited to fulfill a beneficial State objective. I always thought that Western governments took a moral stance against homosexuality. Apparently that is not true. In the Politics, Aristotle frankly discusses homosexuality as both a natural phenomenon and worthwhile social policy. Morality does not even enter the analysis.
Second, I found it interesting that Aristotle repeatedly speaks out against birthrates. Although he only mentions homosexuality in connection with birthrates in the Cretan example, he mentions low birthrates many times throughout the Politics. He equates high birthrates with poverty, discord and ruin. At the same time, he praises States that carefully control their populations. This makes sense given Aristotle's belief that States should strive to cultivate "good" people, not just "many" people.
Aristotle's views on homosexuality and birthrates fundamentally differ from modern views on the same subjects. For centuries, Western society has learned to revile homosexuality in all its manifestations. Church dogma called homosexuality a "sin;" it warned homosexuals that they would go to hell if they "practiced" it. The law labeled it a "crime;" it warned homosexuals that they would be executed or imprisoned for it. Even the scientific community diagnosed it as a "disease;" psychiatrists did not remove it from the book of "mental illnesses" until about 1970.
Although extreme institutional intolerance toward homosexuality has slowly weakened over time, there remains a virulent moral strain against homosexuality in Western societies. It is still "not normal." It is still somehow illegitimate and "disgusting." Put another way, it may not be "illegal" anymore; but it is still "immoral." Despite some modest legal advances in recent years (i.e., it is no longer constitutionally permissible to jail gay men for having sex), these attitudes force homosexuals to live on the fringes of society. They risk everything by living truthfully. They face a difficult decision whether to tell others about their own sexuality, a decision that no other people need to worry about in society. Or they can simply to choose to live in secret.
These are hardly appetizing decisions to make in life.
Against this background, it is almost inconceivable that a respected scholar would suggest that homosexuality is "natural," let alone that it could serve a "beneficial social purpose." If anything, attitudes toward homosexuality in Western civilization reveal little more than contempt. Until the late 19th Century, "sodomites" hanged in Great Britain. That is a far, far cry from Aristotle's argument that homosexuality actually could provide a benefit to society through lower birthrates.
But Western societies traditionally do not like low birthrates, either. That is why Aristotle's views on low birthrates seem so fascinating today. Historically, Western societies have done their best to encourage high birthrates. They have generally wanted to increase their populations. This coincided with Church dogma that men and women should "honor God" by "blessing Him" with as many offspring as possible. Just as the Church preached against homosexuality, so too did it praise prolific childbearing.
Modern America is no exception to these attitudes. For the most part, the United States encourages procreation among its citizens. Families with many children earn social praise, even congratulations. By the same token, modern America does not fully tolerate homosexuality. Homosexuals, after all, do not procreate. Is there a conceptual link between historical hatred for homosexuals and their inability to contribute to the birthrate?
Is there a moral link? After all, Western history shows that high birthrates bespeak "moral" living, while homosexuality bespeaks "immorality" because it does not contribute to the birthrate. In this sense, there is an inverse relationship between homosexuality and birthrates in modern society: The capacity for high birthrates is moral and good, while homosexuality is immoral and bad because it does not lead to high birthrates.
These views have reigned in the West for centuries. But a quick read through Aristotle reveals that it has not always been so. If a philosopher as renowned as Aristotle suggested that homosexuality is natural and that low birthrates are good, what does that say about "traditional" Western views on these subjects? After all, those who demonize homosexuality as an immoral abomination prize arguments based in "tradition." They say that "tradition" provides a reason to hate homosexuality because "our society has always reviled homosexuality."
But what if "tradition" is wrong? Or at least conveniently tailored to meet ideological ends? When it comes to homosexuality, Aristotle provides a historical example that not everyone in the "Western tradition" thought homosexuality was an abomination. Put simply, Aristotle's divergence from the so-called "tradition against homosexuality" shows that "tradition" arguments can be very misleading. After all, it is easy to just ignore inconvenient voices in a historical tradition, then call the tailored version "tradition."
I do not think that "tradition" categorically supports an argument that homosexuality is necessarily "immoral," or that high birthrates are necessarily "good." We simply must reference Aristotle to wreck any argument that "tradition" on these subjects has been unanimous. It hasn't.
And to those who think arguments based in tradition somehow carry special weight, I offer another quote from Aristotle to temper reliance on tailored history: "Generally, of course, it is the good, and not simply the traditional, that is aimed at." The Politics, Book II, Ch. viii ¶1269a3.
Put another way, it is no answer to a problem to say: "That's the way we've always done it." Solving problems takes independent thought, not blind imitation or historical charades.
Showing posts with label Purposes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Purposes. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
DO WE SPEAK TO UNITE OR TO DECEIVE?
AN ESSAY
As I mentioned last week, I'm re-reading Aristotle's Politics. Surprisingly, I found myself agreeing with many of his points about human beings and their motivations. That surprised me because I always took a prejudiced view against Aristotle. In college, I dismissed him because he was an "absolutist" about truth. But now that many years have passed--and now that I have read so much more--I approach Aristotle with more forgiveness. I do not read him with a smirk anymore. Rather, I read him for what he is: A classical metaphysician. I like some points; I don't like others. It's like reading anyone else.
Yet Aristotle is no average writer. He is a giant among Western philosophers. His views on virtually every subject became dogma for centuries. Men died challenging Aristotlean doctrines in the Catholic church during the Middle Ages. Others risked everything to dispute Aristotle's teachings about ethics and astronomy. As time went on, scientific advances dethroned Aristotle's pre-eminence in some areas. But in others, his influence remains strong--and still relevant. After all, Aristotle wrote about politics, ethics, human beings and beauty. These things cannot be reduced to mathematical fact. Rather, they constantly invite debate, interpretation and reassessment.
Aristotle's political work certainly has continued relevance. Like all the political philosophers who followed him, Aristotle begins by discussing human nature. Aristotle approaches the question with his usual confidence: He makes conclusions as if they were obvious, even if they are just assumptions. He also plays the biologist, constantly comparing humans to their analogues in nature.
I love any discussion about human nature. And I have always disagreed with Aristotle's view here.
Aristotle claims that men are "political animals...by nature." The Politics, Book I, ch. ii, para. 1253a1. He makes this conclusion by examining the key difference between men and beasts: Men have speech. He acknowledges that both animals and men have voice--cows can moo and dogs can bark to voice their feelings--but speech is unique to man.
This might not seem like a profound observation, but Aristotle's understanding of speech is remarkable. The consummate metaphysician, he argues that "speech has a single purpose" and no other. Namely, it enables men to "indicate what is useful and what is harmful," and "what is just or unjust." Id. at para. 1253a7. Finally, he draws the ultimate distinction between men and animals: "[H]umans alone have perception of good and evil, just and unjust." Id.
For Aristotle, then, speech has a justice function. It not only allows men to communicate their feelings, but it exists to help them find what is useful and just for all. This is the natural purpose of speech. It is imbued with a sensitivity for morality (good and evil), practicality (useful and not useful) as well as justice. These are profound concepts. And Aristotle speaks in absolute terms. There is one "good," one "evil," one "justice" and one "useful." In his view, speech enables man to find them all--and to organize States on that basis. Man is not only a speaking animal; his speech allows him to unite with other men to find universal justice in a useful society. What a remarkable assertion.
It is a remarkable assertion because it invites so much scorn. I naturally shy away from absolutes. Aristotle always offered me a tempting target because he reduces complex issues into absolute "sayings." His argument about speech--and human nature--strikes me as impossibly naive. Aristotle's philosophy of "specific purposes" (teleology) always leads to moments like this. After all, how can we say "speech is for justice and unity" when even brief life experience reveals that men often do not use speech for those purposes? Aristotle assumes that speech leads to cooperation and good. But life experience refutes this: Men lie. They don't cooperate. They don't tell the truth. They divide from one another and twist language to advance their narrow interests. And they certainly do not always use language to find justice. In most cases, language leads to injustice.
For his part, Aristotle would say that deceivers do "not use speech according to its purpose." This is a laughable objection, unfortunately: If language's "natural purpose" is to "find justice," then I would argue that people rarely use it "naturally."
Broadly speaking, Aristotle's theory of language reflects a good view of human nature. Aristotle believed that men naturally worked with one another to achieve a "good life." See Politics, Book I, ch. ii at para. 1252b27. He thought that speech gave them a natural tool to discover useful methods for securing a "good life," as well as to distinguish "good from evil," "right from wrong" and "just from unjust." Finally, he thought that men naturally cooperated with each other to achieve a "good life" filled with justice.
These are admirable sentiments. The problem is that Aristotle assumed everything he concluded. Every philosopher must assume certain basic principles in order to develop his theories about life. Aristotle's assumptions sound appealing, but they remain assumptions. For my part, I cannot assume that men are good by nature. And because of that, I cannot assume that men generally use speech for good purposes. Men unite with speech, but they also deceive with it. Men do good with speech; they also do bad. It is no answer to say--as Aristotle does--that they are merely "ignoring speech's natural purpose." There are no overreaching purposes. We simply attach them according to our individual sensitivities.
Aristotle thought that he could find truth by assigning specific purposes to everything open to human experience or imagination. And he assumed that one "truth" exists to be found: That was his worst assumption of all.
As I mentioned last week, I'm re-reading Aristotle's Politics. Surprisingly, I found myself agreeing with many of his points about human beings and their motivations. That surprised me because I always took a prejudiced view against Aristotle. In college, I dismissed him because he was an "absolutist" about truth. But now that many years have passed--and now that I have read so much more--I approach Aristotle with more forgiveness. I do not read him with a smirk anymore. Rather, I read him for what he is: A classical metaphysician. I like some points; I don't like others. It's like reading anyone else.
Yet Aristotle is no average writer. He is a giant among Western philosophers. His views on virtually every subject became dogma for centuries. Men died challenging Aristotlean doctrines in the Catholic church during the Middle Ages. Others risked everything to dispute Aristotle's teachings about ethics and astronomy. As time went on, scientific advances dethroned Aristotle's pre-eminence in some areas. But in others, his influence remains strong--and still relevant. After all, Aristotle wrote about politics, ethics, human beings and beauty. These things cannot be reduced to mathematical fact. Rather, they constantly invite debate, interpretation and reassessment.
Aristotle's political work certainly has continued relevance. Like all the political philosophers who followed him, Aristotle begins by discussing human nature. Aristotle approaches the question with his usual confidence: He makes conclusions as if they were obvious, even if they are just assumptions. He also plays the biologist, constantly comparing humans to their analogues in nature.
I love any discussion about human nature. And I have always disagreed with Aristotle's view here.
Aristotle claims that men are "political animals...by nature." The Politics, Book I, ch. ii, para. 1253a1. He makes this conclusion by examining the key difference between men and beasts: Men have speech. He acknowledges that both animals and men have voice--cows can moo and dogs can bark to voice their feelings--but speech is unique to man.
This might not seem like a profound observation, but Aristotle's understanding of speech is remarkable. The consummate metaphysician, he argues that "speech has a single purpose" and no other. Namely, it enables men to "indicate what is useful and what is harmful," and "what is just or unjust." Id. at para. 1253a7. Finally, he draws the ultimate distinction between men and animals: "[H]umans alone have perception of good and evil, just and unjust." Id.
For Aristotle, then, speech has a justice function. It not only allows men to communicate their feelings, but it exists to help them find what is useful and just for all. This is the natural purpose of speech. It is imbued with a sensitivity for morality (good and evil), practicality (useful and not useful) as well as justice. These are profound concepts. And Aristotle speaks in absolute terms. There is one "good," one "evil," one "justice" and one "useful." In his view, speech enables man to find them all--and to organize States on that basis. Man is not only a speaking animal; his speech allows him to unite with other men to find universal justice in a useful society. What a remarkable assertion.
It is a remarkable assertion because it invites so much scorn. I naturally shy away from absolutes. Aristotle always offered me a tempting target because he reduces complex issues into absolute "sayings." His argument about speech--and human nature--strikes me as impossibly naive. Aristotle's philosophy of "specific purposes" (teleology) always leads to moments like this. After all, how can we say "speech is for justice and unity" when even brief life experience reveals that men often do not use speech for those purposes? Aristotle assumes that speech leads to cooperation and good. But life experience refutes this: Men lie. They don't cooperate. They don't tell the truth. They divide from one another and twist language to advance their narrow interests. And they certainly do not always use language to find justice. In most cases, language leads to injustice.
For his part, Aristotle would say that deceivers do "not use speech according to its purpose." This is a laughable objection, unfortunately: If language's "natural purpose" is to "find justice," then I would argue that people rarely use it "naturally."
Broadly speaking, Aristotle's theory of language reflects a good view of human nature. Aristotle believed that men naturally worked with one another to achieve a "good life." See Politics, Book I, ch. ii at para. 1252b27. He thought that speech gave them a natural tool to discover useful methods for securing a "good life," as well as to distinguish "good from evil," "right from wrong" and "just from unjust." Finally, he thought that men naturally cooperated with each other to achieve a "good life" filled with justice.
These are admirable sentiments. The problem is that Aristotle assumed everything he concluded. Every philosopher must assume certain basic principles in order to develop his theories about life. Aristotle's assumptions sound appealing, but they remain assumptions. For my part, I cannot assume that men are good by nature. And because of that, I cannot assume that men generally use speech for good purposes. Men unite with speech, but they also deceive with it. Men do good with speech; they also do bad. It is no answer to say--as Aristotle does--that they are merely "ignoring speech's natural purpose." There are no overreaching purposes. We simply attach them according to our individual sensitivities.
Aristotle thought that he could find truth by assigning specific purposes to everything open to human experience or imagination. And he assumed that one "truth" exists to be found: That was his worst assumption of all.
Monday, November 30, 2009
THE IT'S ALL ABOUT ME PARTY (AND SCREW EVERYBODY ELSE)
POLITICAL PARTIES FOR A CHANGING WORLDBy: Mr. E.G. O'Miner, President and Chief Spokesman; Chairman of the Board of Directors, O'Miner Property Acquisition & Development Co., Inc., a Delaware Corporation Specializing in Real Estate Hedges; Profilee, Fortune Magazine's Gold 100 (March 2007); Author, "It's Mine : Stop Apologizing for Your Money" N.Y. Times Bestseller for 24 consecutive weeks; Married subject to prenuptial contract.
No one ever got anywhere in this country helping others. Rather, our ancestors achieved success by focusing on themselves. There is no shame in being selfish when being selfish buys you a house. There is no shame in being selfish when you get the job and the bonus. Just think of it this way: If you stopped to help the other guy, you might not have gotten the job or the bonus. Where would you be then? I assure you, you wouldn't like it.
Yet somehow it has become fashionable in the United States to deprecate wealth. Even really rich people learn that it is rude to mention incomes, portfolios and real estate holdings in public. They even open themselves up to ridicule when they refuse to give money to charitable foundations. Put simply, successful Americans feel increasing pressure to express shame for their success, even though they have realized the American dream.
This is outrageous. We believe it is time to stop feeling guilty for our money and our success. As successful Americans with substantial property holdings and minimal financial worry, we refuse to be modest any longer. We refuse to flagellate ourselves for achieving precisely what everyone sets out to achieve in this country. Rather, we want the world to know what it takes to be successful. We want to step out and say: "It's All About Me." And we're going to be honest, too. We're also going to say from the top of our lungs: "Screw Everybody Else."
I started the It's All About Me Party (And Screw Everybody Else) because I got sick and tired of all the public recriminations about wealth. I started the party because I want to be honest about success. Look, you can't become a millionaire by giving money to others. Being a millionaire requires a decidedly self-centered mental outlook. You need to think about yourself if you want to possess money and property. You can't put together favorable business deals, meaningful commercial contacts or cash large checks unless you adopt a relatively egotistical approach to life. I say to you: It's OK. Don't give yourself "permission." Don't apologize. Rather, say: "It's all about me and I don't give a good two shits what anyone else thinks of me."
Let the moralists complain and call you selfish. You'll be the one laughing in a Bentley while they're talking to themselves in a used Honda.
Let me explain what I mean by "It's All About Me." Being selfish is a lifestyle. It is a commitment, too. When you say "It's All About Me," you take an oath to live for yourself and yourself alone. You tell everyone else to fuck off because if they're not making money for you, they're not worth being around. True, it takes courage to live for yourself; everyone from day one has told you that it's wrong to eat the whole cake without sharing. But you can do it. Be strong. If you really want to be a millionaire, you need to think unconventionally. Don't apologize. Don't share. Take it all for yourself. And be happy doing it.
When it's all about you, you use the word "mine" a lot. Don't be afraid to think about "my house," "my money," "my wife," "my beach home," "my portfolio," "my cars," "my coin collection" and "my inheritance." This stuff belongs to you. You worked hard for it. Why should you give it away? Stop punishing yourself for caring about "mine." Sure, your parents and teachers always scolded you for shouting "mine mine mine" when you refused to let some brat share your toys. But they didn't know what the hell they were talking about. Rebel against convention. Stop the guilt. Go ahead and scream "MINE MINE MINE MINE" without a shred of shame. After all, who's the one with the mansion?
You can do this. You can finally make yourself the center of your world. No matter how much you have been brainwashed to care about others, you must dare to see through the lies. If you crave success, you must penetrate the deception. Make yourself the star of the show. Put your needs first, not your paraplegic uncle's. Pleasure yourself, not your spouse. Keep your money in a high-yield account; forget about the charity fund. Screw your brother; he can make it on his own. The minute you start worrying about other people is the minute you veer off the path to success. When it's all about you, you enrich yourself and you even feel good about it. Don't be weak. Don't be conflicted. When it's all about you, there is no conflict: It's just you, my man.
We stand for freedom. We stand for liberty from guilt, self-doubt, pity and compassion. It's amazing what you can accomplish when you only think about yourself all the time. Although we also believe in telling people to "screw off," we do not think that it is a bad thing. After all, putting yourself first means screwing everyone else. It's all part of the ball game. The trick is shedding all those compassionate impulses you learned since birth. If you really want to make a name for yourself, you need the courage to tell everyone else: "Screw you and your problems; it's all about me."
Our opponents say that we live unvirtuous lives. They say we are cruel, unforgiving, heartless and superficial. They can call us all the bad names they want. We're the ones with the big jobs, the big houses and the big cars. We're the ones who get the hot chicks and go on the ritzy vacations. We feel no shame for serving ourselves, because selfish people make the world turn. We don't think "selfish" is a bad word because selfishness creates jobs for all the people who live to share. Put simply, when we say "It's All About Me," we drive the economy. So in a weird way, we share a lot more by refusing to share than we would if we lived to share. And not just that: Virtue doesn't buy villas or hire hot whores; selfishness does.
Be a man. Do yourself a favor and drop the guilt, will you? Join the It's All About Me Party (And Screw Everybody Else). Liberate yourself from bloodsuckers and annoying relatives. Make money without shame. Spend it on yourself, not greedy dependent children, beggars and wives. Because when you permit yourself to be a selfish, greedy, arrogant rapacious pig, you drive this Nation to prosperity. Plus you get a really nice house and a bulging stock portfolio. And that, my friend, is the surest chick magnet on earth.
So shut the fuck up with this "sharing" business. Because when you share, you cheat yourself. And there's no "share" in the phrase "It's All About Me."
Be different. Be selfish. Be strong. Be yourself.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
THANKSGIVING BREAK AND READING A LITTLE
Most people don't mind their "daily routines" during Thanksgiving, so I'm going to conserve my energy until Monday. I don't mind playing to an empty theatre, but for my own good I won't this time.
I've been reading an old nemesis for the last couple days: Aristotle. When I was in college, I used to define my personal philosophy against Aristotle. After all, Aristotle--as the father of modern "analysis" and a consummate biologist--believed that everything on earth had a "purpose." But the "purposes" that Aristotle ascribed to everything really were simply assumptions that carried no intrinsic weight, even if they sounded "right." Aristotle also originated the modern notion of "categorization," which is also artificial despite its organizational usefulness. It sounds great to say: "There are four kinds of goodness." Yet even momentary reflection reveals that it is preposterous to narrow something as amorphous as "good" into four absolutely rigid subdivisions.
Aristotle's methods seem suspect to a natural renegade like me. But I don't deny their influence on Western thought. I venture that Aristotle is probably the most influential secular philosopher of all time. His conclusions and observations--while replete with unjustified assumptions--nonetheless set the standard for everyone who came after him. His analytical and categorical processes remain intact in science, law, mathematics and even the arts. While we might disagree with Aristotle's judgments on some subjects, we nonetheless continue to apply his methods when "dissecting" any question into its "component parts" (analysis... literally "taking apart the whole and examining its parts").
It's worthwhile to re-read such an influential philosopher. Aristotle wrote about everything, from marine biology, to singing, to procreation, to politics, to geometry, to ethics, to law and even to drama. I like comprehensive intellects. Aristotle was definitely a comprehensive intellect who learned because he enjoyed it. He might have been wrong about many things, but I respect his contributions to knowledge. I just don't like metaphysical assumptions and assertions that "absolute truth" exists in life.
I will take up some of Aristotle's points in later essays. For now, I'm going to rest.
See you all next week!
Oesterhoudt
I've been reading an old nemesis for the last couple days: Aristotle. When I was in college, I used to define my personal philosophy against Aristotle. After all, Aristotle--as the father of modern "analysis" and a consummate biologist--believed that everything on earth had a "purpose." But the "purposes" that Aristotle ascribed to everything really were simply assumptions that carried no intrinsic weight, even if they sounded "right." Aristotle also originated the modern notion of "categorization," which is also artificial despite its organizational usefulness. It sounds great to say: "There are four kinds of goodness." Yet even momentary reflection reveals that it is preposterous to narrow something as amorphous as "good" into four absolutely rigid subdivisions.
Aristotle's methods seem suspect to a natural renegade like me. But I don't deny their influence on Western thought. I venture that Aristotle is probably the most influential secular philosopher of all time. His conclusions and observations--while replete with unjustified assumptions--nonetheless set the standard for everyone who came after him. His analytical and categorical processes remain intact in science, law, mathematics and even the arts. While we might disagree with Aristotle's judgments on some subjects, we nonetheless continue to apply his methods when "dissecting" any question into its "component parts" (analysis... literally "taking apart the whole and examining its parts").
It's worthwhile to re-read such an influential philosopher. Aristotle wrote about everything, from marine biology, to singing, to procreation, to politics, to geometry, to ethics, to law and even to drama. I like comprehensive intellects. Aristotle was definitely a comprehensive intellect who learned because he enjoyed it. He might have been wrong about many things, but I respect his contributions to knowledge. I just don't like metaphysical assumptions and assertions that "absolute truth" exists in life.
I will take up some of Aristotle's points in later essays. For now, I'm going to rest.
See you all next week!
Oesterhoudt
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
MUST WE ALWAYS BE LINKED IN?
OESTERHOUDT STRIKES I don't like telephones. If I'm not expecting a call, I can't stand it when the phone rings. Basically, I don't like interruptions. I like focusing on things. I like dedicating my energy fully to a project and getting it done as well as I can. When some fool calls me about new cable service or a municipal election, it breaks my concentration. I don't like small talk, either. I don't like reporting what "I've been doing lately," "how things are going with me," "what I'm doing this weekend" or "how the job search is turning out." I would just rather read and write in peace.
Telephones used to terrorize me in law practice. My bosses expected me to be on the phone all the time: Call the client; call opposing counsel; call me; call your colleague; call the court; call the expert; call the printing service. All meaningless, vacuous, unstimulating calls. Either that or confrontations over the phone: "Give us the documents...no. Get this done now...no. I'm going to sanction you for this...go ahead; see if I care." Nasty, nasty shit.
Telephones allow people to attend to business without "actually being there." In many ways, this is advantageous. But when people try to do too much every day, they abuse the telephone. It gets ridiculous when you make and take 1000 calls a day trying to get everything accomplished from afar. I mean, how much can you really do over a phone line? Good old-fashioned face-to-face contact is a gravely underestimated commodity these days. I think excessive telephone use cheapens human exchange. And telephones cause unreal stress when abused. You can run away from a person. But you can't run from a person with a phone. In a word, telephones can take away your peace if you let them.
And I'm just talking about regular land lines. Cell phones made matters worse. As hard as it is to field phone calls from behind a desk, in the old days at least you could go home and escape the dreaded rings. Once you left the office, the phone could ring all it wanted; you couldn't hear it. As recently as the early 1990s, people had more peace in their lives because they didn't carry their phones with them everywhere they went. Now, everyone and their brother has a cell phone. You can't escape your phone now, even if you want to. Even you leave your house for a moment to buy a gallon of milk, someone can ring your cell phone. You are always on call. You must answer. How can you experience peace if you're worried about who might call you every minute?
American society is obsessed with contact. People don't want to be isolated from others even for an instant. They need to know what others are doing all the time. They need to reach them at any moment. While this might yield some "real-time" benefits, I argue that our society's obsession with constant communicative contact makes it more difficult to find peace than it was only 20 years ago. Some call me an "old soul" because I shut myself in a room for several hours every morning and pull the phone line out of the wall. But I just want some peace. I like the idea that I have time to myself each day when no one can reach me, even in an emergency. If something horrible happens, I'll find out about it when I'm ready. Yet in most cases, if someone calls me, it won't be an emergency. It will be a sales call or a pollster. Screw them. I don't want to hear it. Thank God for caller ID.
I understand that I am a mighty rare bird. I have always relished outdated communicative means. I write handwritten notes. I like meeting people in person. I like face-to-face conversations. I embrace technology to the extent that it makes my daily routine easier. But I do not dive headlong into real-time contact with everyone all the time. I joined Facebook mainly as a free forum for my writing and to learn about old friends. I've had a cell phone since 2000 because sometimes I need to let people know where I am. But I don't update my status every 20 seconds, nor do I make random calls to everyone in my contacts folder. No, I want peace.
I just can't understand why so many people want to know "what's going on with everyone" all the time. For example, I cannot ride the elevator in my apartment building without seeing some well-dressed woman on a mobile device furiously typing something. Strangely, it's always a woman, and always white. I see them on the weekends, early in the morning, at night, in the evening, you name it. What are they writing about? Why? To whom? It can't just be about work: You don't write work emails at 11 PM on Saturday, do you? I can't figure it out, but that's because I'm Balthazar Oesterhoudt, an antiquated man who likes reading, peace and quiet. Can someone tell me what these women are scribbling? What the hell is so important? Can't it wait until they get where they're going? Why couldn't they write the message before leaving the apartment? Why try to do four things at once? These questions perplex me; and they make me question my place in this linked-in society: Do I even belong in this century?
Friedrich Nietzsche wrote a polemic called "Uncontemporary Observations." He dared to criticize beliefs and trends that most people in his day simply assumed to be valid. I continue that tradition. I do not like this linked-in society and I find it quite disturbing. I like privacy. More and more, our society willingly cedes its privacy in order to "let everyone else know what's going on with us all the time." Sadly, even professional success now depends on "how many people you know" and "how well you communicate with lots people in your 'network.'" That, in turn, engendered an entirely new--and distinctly American--concept in the English language: "NETWORKING."
I don't "network." I maintain human relationships with as many people as I can. I do not cultivate relationships that I know won't go anywhere. And I certainly do not calculate relationships in order to win petty career advancement. I don't like using people for selfish ends. Yet this is precisely what "networking" demands. I am not "successful" in the linked-in world because I do not like exploiting others for my own gain. I actually take pride in that. If I fail because I do not properly "network," I consider that a compliment.
But again, I am a mighty rare bird. I take my time when I speak, read and write. I don't stop reading something because it's over a sentence long. I relish life as it comes; I don't try to manipulate it according to a plan or expectation.
People who "network" don't have time for that. Every conversation must yield a tangible benefit; every contact must have a "purpose" that leads closer to a "goal." If you write something, it had better be short because these folks are in a hurry. There is never enough time for them. And that's why there is no peace in the linked-in society. You have peace when you have enough time each day to meaningfully pursue your own heart. If finding peace means turning off your cell phone for a few hours, I say do it.
Speak when you want to, not because you must. That will bring you some peace. Unplug yourself for a while. It is quite rewarding. Who knows: You might actually feel human again.
Monday, May 18, 2009
LUCKY OR HAPPY? WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?
AN ESSAY
I often write about happiness and unhappiness. In my view, human beings long to experience good, positive feelings as much as they can in life. Freud thought the same: “What do [men] demand of life and wish to achieve in it? They strive after happiness; they want to become happy and remain so.” Civilization and its Discontents, p. 25. Yet people say they want to be “happy” without really knowing what it means. All they know is that they want to feel good more than they feel bad—or at least more than they feel physical pain. Still, “feeling happy” is complex, especially in American life. Many people cannot feel happy unless they first achieve some “subsidiary aims,” such as making money, owning property or obtaining the “right life mate.” They exhaust themselves seeking these “subsidiary aims” to such an extent that they lose sight of the end goal: Happiness. Instead, they endless obsess over the “subsidiary aims.” In short, “a means” to happiness replaces the “end.”
Money is the best example. Money is a medium; it is a means to obtain other things, things that will ostensibly bring happiness. Yet many people forget this when they set out upon “the money-making life.” Even Aristotle recognized this 2500 years ago. Interestingly, both Freud and Aristotle agree that men seek happiness in life: “…[What] is it that we say…is the highest of all goods achievable by action? Verbally there is very general agreement; for both the general run of men and people of superior refinement say that it is happiness, and identify living well and doing well with being happy.” Ethics, Book I, Ch. 4. But Aristotle expressly ruled out “money-making” as a pathway to true happiness: “The life of money-making is one undertaken under compulsion, and wealth is evidently not the good we are seeking; for it is merely useful and for the sake of something else.” Ethics, Book I, Ch. 5. In other words, Aristotle understood that money is a “subsidiary aim” that is “merely useful…for the sake of something else,” namely, “happiness.” Despite Aristotle’s warning, however, many Americans live their lives for money. They think it will categorically bring them happiness. In so doing, they are “barking up the wrong tree.” Perhaps that explains why so few Americans think they are happy. If “living for money” categorically cannot win happiness, then there is no way a true “money-maker” will ever find happiness.
If money does not bring happiness, what does? In truth, we can forgive many Americans for their error. After all, we are merely sensory creatures. We believe what we see and hear. Our senses tell us that money appears to make wealthy people happy. They appear to want for nothing. They do not worry about their rent or their bills. They drive beautiful cars, go on exotic vacations and do what they want every day. This stands in stark contrast to our own lives, in which money is a constant worry. When money is a worry, it dominates our outlook. It provides too many opportunities for suffering. In these circumstances, we cannot feel the “strongly positive emotions” that mark happiness. Freud said that the “presence of unpleasure” makes happiness impossible. Cf. Freud, Civilization and its Discontents, p. 34. To paraphrase Bobby McFerrin: When we worry, we cannot be happy. Nonetheless, we believe that if we only cast off the “money yoke,” our worries would disappear, leaving our minds free to finally experience “strongly positive emotions.” From our perspective, the rich have that freedom. That is why we think they must be happy. And that is why we think that money will automatically make us happy, too.
But this is a delusion. One must merely pick up a tabloid newspaper to see that even mega-rich superstars are not happy, either. They might not worry about bills and health care, but they find other sources for “unpleasure” in their lives: Cheating boyfriends, bitter divorces, cancer, lost contracts, sagging boobs, wrinkles, potbellies, baldness, betrayals, Oscar snubs, humiliations, criminal prosecutions for disorderly conduct, drunk driving or domestic abuse… the list goes on. Money did not cause pain here. These unhappy stars have plenty of money. Yet they clearly are not happy, either. They simply experience unpleasure from a different source than the rest.
Where are the happy people, then? If wealth does not bring happiness, what does? In America, commerce is King. This is not just left-wing rhetoric: We really think we can buy anything. Why can’t we buy happiness, too? It seems like a cruel joke. If we seek happiness but we can’t buy it, what is all this chatter about “becoming successful” and “working hard?” If neither success, nor hard work, nor money can categorically create happiness, what is the point? We work hard and attempt to become successful because we want the power to buy things. But if we can’t buy happiness, what do we have? Aristotle and Freud say that we all want happiness. At the same time, American life tells us we need to be successful. Yet the two are not consistent. Success and money do not automatically create happiness. They may provide a means to it, but they are not replacements for happiness. Happiness comes from somewhere else, somewhere within ourselves.
Or does it? Can we fool ourselves into happiness no matter our external circumstances? Can we manipulate our attitudes so that we always feel “strongly positive emotions?” To answer that question, we must examine language. While we colloquially understand that “happiness” means a prevalence of “strongly positive emotions” over “negative feelings, stress and pain,” does that mean that external circumstances play no role in the analysis? Or can we become happy by sheer force of will, despite all the ills that fate throws upon us? In other words, are happy people simply “lucky?” If they are, what does that say about all our frantic efforts to “become happy” in life? If happiness is basically just a crapshoot, why bother even trying to “find happiness” in the first place?
This is not a small concern. In English, there is a very close relationship between the concepts “happiness” and “luck.” “Happy” is an ancient English word. It derives from the root “hap,” which in turn stems from the Old English “haep” and Old Norse “happ,” meaning “convenient” or “suitable.” Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Ed. “Hap” means “chance, luck or lot,” or at least an “occurrence or happening.” “Hap” gives rise not only to “happy,” but also to “happen” and “happenstance.” All these words imply purely random, chance occurrences over which human will appears to have little influence. Looking more closely at “happy,” the dictionary tells us that the word means: “1. favored by circumstances; lucky; fortunate; 2. having, showing or causing a feeling of great pleasure, contentment, joy, etc., joyous, glad, pleased; 3. exactly appropriate to the occasion.” Id. A “happy person,” then, appears to have made little effort in life. Rather, he is merely “favored by circumstances” and “fortunate” to feel the way he does. He feels “great pleasure, contentment and joy” because circumstances favor him. But why do circumstances favor him? Because he is simply “lucky?” If he is “just lucky,” does that mean he played a role in his own happiness? Or did “fate” just randomly bless him? Here, we can already see the trouble brewing. To be “happy,” our “circumstances” must “favor us.” We must be “lucky” and “fortunate.” We must benefit from “chance occurrences” and “happenstance” to be “happy.” Our own efforts seem irrelevant to the task. Put simply, “happiness” requires “luckiness.”
So what does “lucky” mean? According to Webster, “lucky” means “having good luck; fortunate.” Webster’s New World Dictionary, 4th Ed. Again, we see “fortune” at work in these concepts. Fortune involves random chance, not purposeful action. And what about “good luck?” “Luck,” like “hap,” is an ancient English word. It derives from the Indo-European root “leuk,” meaning “what bends together” or “what occurs.” That root evolved into the Middle Dutch “luk” and the German “Glück.” In German, “Glück” translates not only to “luck,” but also to “happiness.” Bertelsmann’s Deutsches Wörterbuch tells us that “Glück” means: “1. favorable, fortunate circumstances or a turn of events; a coincidence; 2. the success that comes from that turn of events; 3. a feeling of inner satisfaction and joy, especially after accomplishing sought-after wishes; 4. favorable chance (my translations).” In English, Webster says that “luck” means: “1. the seemingly chance happening of events that affect someone; fortune; fate; 2. good fortune; success; prosperity; advantage.” Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Ed.
In all these words, we see an undeniable link between “chance,” “luck” and “happiness.” In German, the link is intrinsic; “Glück” means both “luck” and “happiness.” It describes not only “chance events” and “favorable occurrences,” but also the “feeling of inner satisfaction and joy” that springs from them. It is no coincidence that the English “luck” relates to “Glück.” Although the English definition for “luck” does not list “the feeling of inner satisfaction and joy” that springs from chance events, the word “happy” directly implies “luckiness.” See “happy” definition, supra. And both words relate back to the Indo-European notion that “luck” merely means that things “bend together” for a person’s benefit. Put another way, luck is random. Human will does not affect it. It blesses its beneficiaries without regard to their efforts, intentions, wishes or merits.
In this etymological light, does it make any sense to “pursue happiness?” It appears not. After all, it seems that happiness depends on luck. Luck blesses at random; it does not favor those who “really want to be happy” or who “work really hard” at it. Without “chance occurrences,” “fortune,” “coincidence,” “turns of events,” “fate” and “favorable circumstances,” we will never truly fit the “happy” definition. The word “pursue” implies purposeful action directed toward a particular object. Yet when we “pursue happiness,” we attempt to secure something that eludes human intention altogether. We cannot really “pursue” something that will happen by chance. Our best and most intensive efforts will not cause something to occur at random. At the most, we can “hope” for such events; we do not “pursue” them. We can boldly struggle to mold our circumstances by effort and toil. But if chance stands against us, it seems that we will never find happiness. Ironically, however, a person may be happy even if he makes no effort at all. As long as “fortune” and “luck” meet on his side, he will experience the “joy and contentment” that arise from his “lucky circumstances.” On some level, we all know this. We have seen examples. This is why we contemptuously dismiss some “happy people” as “lucky bastards.” It just doesn’t seem fair that circumstances “bent together for them,” but not for us. After all, we think we did more, earned more and worked more than they did. Yet they became happy because they got lucky, while we slave away without fortune’s blessings. And we certainly do not experience “great contentment or joy,” because our circumstances are not “favorable.”
But fairness and happiness do not go hand in hand. To use a cliché, life is not fair, just as random events, chance occurrences and “fortune” do not reward us all equally. This perplexes us. We learn that hard work, determination and rational behavior will bring us success, then happiness. We think we have rational control over our feelings and our destinies. We think we should be rewarded for “making all the right moves” and “paying our dues.” Yet “circumstances favor” certain people over others without regard to their merit, effort, ability or zeal. It is no answer to say that some “really hard working people” generate their own circumstances. To some extent, life unfolds without regard to human choice or will. Certain people benefit from totally random occurrences. They meet the right people at the right times. They have the right idea in the right decade. Or they simply happen to please the right person, who happened to live at the right moment in history. Others are simply born with great advantages. No calculation can presage these “chance” occurrences. Yet “luck” bestows them on some, and not others. Blessed with luck, they relish the “feeling of inner satisfaction and joy” that flows from their circumstances: They are “happy.” But they were “lucky” first.
Where does this leave us? In a word, it leaves us with the disheartening impression that we do not have total control over our lives. Benjamin Franklin and other enterprising Americans throughout our history disparaged luck, claiming that hard work and “good decisions” “manufactured” luck for them. They said: “Anyone can make it as long as they work hard.” But this, I fear, is propaganda. In my view, men like Benjamin Franklin benefited from luck and chance, no matter how hard they worked. Lord knows how many hard working people have lived on this planet who never benefited from “lucky chances.” They never became successful, famous or even happy. The lucky ones will always say: “This is how I did it… and you can do it, too!” That statement defies the very nature of luck. Luck only chooses some, not all. And it has nothing to do with talent or merit. Talent does not even increase the chances that “luck will strike.” Random means random. There is no way to influence it.
At this point, I cannot avoid discussing destiny as opposed to pure reason. I must confess that I believe in destiny, at least to the degree than I cannot rationally account for certain chance events in life. I cannot verify with my senses why I met certain people in life, why certain people lived, and others died. Quite simply, luck plays a huge role in life. And grammatically speaking, it is a prerequisite for happiness. Thus, it is a matter of chance and coincidence whether we become happy, since nothing can control the “random events” that will generate the circumstances necessary to experience the “strongly positive emotions” that flow from those lucky circumstances. Or perhaps it is destiny that determines who benefits from “chance events,” if they are even “chance events” at all. What do I know? If destiny chooses the people who benefit from chance events—and thus become happy—does that not sound like quasi-religion? There are chosen ones and there are the damned.
We all want happiness. We all want to feel good more than we feel bad. We listen to philosophers and heroes who offer us ways to find it. Yet we cannot escape grammar. Happiness turns largely on luck. Lucky people are happy. Unlucky people are not. Think about it. If some truly unlucky event befalls you, are you happy? Definitely not. Chance did not favor you. But if a lucky event befalls you, are you happy? Absolutely. You benefited from chance. It changed your circumstances and you feel great about it. Did you influence the chance events? Probably not. They would not be “chance events” if you did.
I suppose the only way to cope with luck is to cultivate a healthy respect for uncertainty in life. Maybe we will be happy. Perhaps we won’t. Yet we can spare ourselves heartbreak if we refrain from pursuing it. After all, we cannot pursue luck. And without luck, there is no true happiness. In America, this is a hard way to live. We learn that we can control our lives and we can buy anything. Yet no store sells luck or happiness. Luck can give us money, but money can’t give us luck. By the same token, money can’t give us happiness. You need luck for that.
I often write about happiness and unhappiness. In my view, human beings long to experience good, positive feelings as much as they can in life. Freud thought the same: “What do [men] demand of life and wish to achieve in it? They strive after happiness; they want to become happy and remain so.” Civilization and its Discontents, p. 25. Yet people say they want to be “happy” without really knowing what it means. All they know is that they want to feel good more than they feel bad—or at least more than they feel physical pain. Still, “feeling happy” is complex, especially in American life. Many people cannot feel happy unless they first achieve some “subsidiary aims,” such as making money, owning property or obtaining the “right life mate.” They exhaust themselves seeking these “subsidiary aims” to such an extent that they lose sight of the end goal: Happiness. Instead, they endless obsess over the “subsidiary aims.” In short, “a means” to happiness replaces the “end.”
Money is the best example. Money is a medium; it is a means to obtain other things, things that will ostensibly bring happiness. Yet many people forget this when they set out upon “the money-making life.” Even Aristotle recognized this 2500 years ago. Interestingly, both Freud and Aristotle agree that men seek happiness in life: “…[What] is it that we say…is the highest of all goods achievable by action? Verbally there is very general agreement; for both the general run of men and people of superior refinement say that it is happiness, and identify living well and doing well with being happy.” Ethics, Book I, Ch. 4. But Aristotle expressly ruled out “money-making” as a pathway to true happiness: “The life of money-making is one undertaken under compulsion, and wealth is evidently not the good we are seeking; for it is merely useful and for the sake of something else.” Ethics, Book I, Ch. 5. In other words, Aristotle understood that money is a “subsidiary aim” that is “merely useful…for the sake of something else,” namely, “happiness.” Despite Aristotle’s warning, however, many Americans live their lives for money. They think it will categorically bring them happiness. In so doing, they are “barking up the wrong tree.” Perhaps that explains why so few Americans think they are happy. If “living for money” categorically cannot win happiness, then there is no way a true “money-maker” will ever find happiness.
If money does not bring happiness, what does? In truth, we can forgive many Americans for their error. After all, we are merely sensory creatures. We believe what we see and hear. Our senses tell us that money appears to make wealthy people happy. They appear to want for nothing. They do not worry about their rent or their bills. They drive beautiful cars, go on exotic vacations and do what they want every day. This stands in stark contrast to our own lives, in which money is a constant worry. When money is a worry, it dominates our outlook. It provides too many opportunities for suffering. In these circumstances, we cannot feel the “strongly positive emotions” that mark happiness. Freud said that the “presence of unpleasure” makes happiness impossible. Cf. Freud, Civilization and its Discontents, p. 34. To paraphrase Bobby McFerrin: When we worry, we cannot be happy. Nonetheless, we believe that if we only cast off the “money yoke,” our worries would disappear, leaving our minds free to finally experience “strongly positive emotions.” From our perspective, the rich have that freedom. That is why we think they must be happy. And that is why we think that money will automatically make us happy, too.
But this is a delusion. One must merely pick up a tabloid newspaper to see that even mega-rich superstars are not happy, either. They might not worry about bills and health care, but they find other sources for “unpleasure” in their lives: Cheating boyfriends, bitter divorces, cancer, lost contracts, sagging boobs, wrinkles, potbellies, baldness, betrayals, Oscar snubs, humiliations, criminal prosecutions for disorderly conduct, drunk driving or domestic abuse… the list goes on. Money did not cause pain here. These unhappy stars have plenty of money. Yet they clearly are not happy, either. They simply experience unpleasure from a different source than the rest.
Where are the happy people, then? If wealth does not bring happiness, what does? In America, commerce is King. This is not just left-wing rhetoric: We really think we can buy anything. Why can’t we buy happiness, too? It seems like a cruel joke. If we seek happiness but we can’t buy it, what is all this chatter about “becoming successful” and “working hard?” If neither success, nor hard work, nor money can categorically create happiness, what is the point? We work hard and attempt to become successful because we want the power to buy things. But if we can’t buy happiness, what do we have? Aristotle and Freud say that we all want happiness. At the same time, American life tells us we need to be successful. Yet the two are not consistent. Success and money do not automatically create happiness. They may provide a means to it, but they are not replacements for happiness. Happiness comes from somewhere else, somewhere within ourselves.
Or does it? Can we fool ourselves into happiness no matter our external circumstances? Can we manipulate our attitudes so that we always feel “strongly positive emotions?” To answer that question, we must examine language. While we colloquially understand that “happiness” means a prevalence of “strongly positive emotions” over “negative feelings, stress and pain,” does that mean that external circumstances play no role in the analysis? Or can we become happy by sheer force of will, despite all the ills that fate throws upon us? In other words, are happy people simply “lucky?” If they are, what does that say about all our frantic efforts to “become happy” in life? If happiness is basically just a crapshoot, why bother even trying to “find happiness” in the first place?
This is not a small concern. In English, there is a very close relationship between the concepts “happiness” and “luck.” “Happy” is an ancient English word. It derives from the root “hap,” which in turn stems from the Old English “haep” and Old Norse “happ,” meaning “convenient” or “suitable.” Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Ed. “Hap” means “chance, luck or lot,” or at least an “occurrence or happening.” “Hap” gives rise not only to “happy,” but also to “happen” and “happenstance.” All these words imply purely random, chance occurrences over which human will appears to have little influence. Looking more closely at “happy,” the dictionary tells us that the word means: “1. favored by circumstances; lucky; fortunate; 2. having, showing or causing a feeling of great pleasure, contentment, joy, etc., joyous, glad, pleased; 3. exactly appropriate to the occasion.” Id. A “happy person,” then, appears to have made little effort in life. Rather, he is merely “favored by circumstances” and “fortunate” to feel the way he does. He feels “great pleasure, contentment and joy” because circumstances favor him. But why do circumstances favor him? Because he is simply “lucky?” If he is “just lucky,” does that mean he played a role in his own happiness? Or did “fate” just randomly bless him? Here, we can already see the trouble brewing. To be “happy,” our “circumstances” must “favor us.” We must be “lucky” and “fortunate.” We must benefit from “chance occurrences” and “happenstance” to be “happy.” Our own efforts seem irrelevant to the task. Put simply, “happiness” requires “luckiness.”
So what does “lucky” mean? According to Webster, “lucky” means “having good luck; fortunate.” Webster’s New World Dictionary, 4th Ed. Again, we see “fortune” at work in these concepts. Fortune involves random chance, not purposeful action. And what about “good luck?” “Luck,” like “hap,” is an ancient English word. It derives from the Indo-European root “leuk,” meaning “what bends together” or “what occurs.” That root evolved into the Middle Dutch “luk” and the German “Glück.” In German, “Glück” translates not only to “luck,” but also to “happiness.” Bertelsmann’s Deutsches Wörterbuch tells us that “Glück” means: “1. favorable, fortunate circumstances or a turn of events; a coincidence; 2. the success that comes from that turn of events; 3. a feeling of inner satisfaction and joy, especially after accomplishing sought-after wishes; 4. favorable chance (my translations).” In English, Webster says that “luck” means: “1. the seemingly chance happening of events that affect someone; fortune; fate; 2. good fortune; success; prosperity; advantage.” Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Ed.
In all these words, we see an undeniable link between “chance,” “luck” and “happiness.” In German, the link is intrinsic; “Glück” means both “luck” and “happiness.” It describes not only “chance events” and “favorable occurrences,” but also the “feeling of inner satisfaction and joy” that springs from them. It is no coincidence that the English “luck” relates to “Glück.” Although the English definition for “luck” does not list “the feeling of inner satisfaction and joy” that springs from chance events, the word “happy” directly implies “luckiness.” See “happy” definition, supra. And both words relate back to the Indo-European notion that “luck” merely means that things “bend together” for a person’s benefit. Put another way, luck is random. Human will does not affect it. It blesses its beneficiaries without regard to their efforts, intentions, wishes or merits.
In this etymological light, does it make any sense to “pursue happiness?” It appears not. After all, it seems that happiness depends on luck. Luck blesses at random; it does not favor those who “really want to be happy” or who “work really hard” at it. Without “chance occurrences,” “fortune,” “coincidence,” “turns of events,” “fate” and “favorable circumstances,” we will never truly fit the “happy” definition. The word “pursue” implies purposeful action directed toward a particular object. Yet when we “pursue happiness,” we attempt to secure something that eludes human intention altogether. We cannot really “pursue” something that will happen by chance. Our best and most intensive efforts will not cause something to occur at random. At the most, we can “hope” for such events; we do not “pursue” them. We can boldly struggle to mold our circumstances by effort and toil. But if chance stands against us, it seems that we will never find happiness. Ironically, however, a person may be happy even if he makes no effort at all. As long as “fortune” and “luck” meet on his side, he will experience the “joy and contentment” that arise from his “lucky circumstances.” On some level, we all know this. We have seen examples. This is why we contemptuously dismiss some “happy people” as “lucky bastards.” It just doesn’t seem fair that circumstances “bent together for them,” but not for us. After all, we think we did more, earned more and worked more than they did. Yet they became happy because they got lucky, while we slave away without fortune’s blessings. And we certainly do not experience “great contentment or joy,” because our circumstances are not “favorable.”
But fairness and happiness do not go hand in hand. To use a cliché, life is not fair, just as random events, chance occurrences and “fortune” do not reward us all equally. This perplexes us. We learn that hard work, determination and rational behavior will bring us success, then happiness. We think we have rational control over our feelings and our destinies. We think we should be rewarded for “making all the right moves” and “paying our dues.” Yet “circumstances favor” certain people over others without regard to their merit, effort, ability or zeal. It is no answer to say that some “really hard working people” generate their own circumstances. To some extent, life unfolds without regard to human choice or will. Certain people benefit from totally random occurrences. They meet the right people at the right times. They have the right idea in the right decade. Or they simply happen to please the right person, who happened to live at the right moment in history. Others are simply born with great advantages. No calculation can presage these “chance” occurrences. Yet “luck” bestows them on some, and not others. Blessed with luck, they relish the “feeling of inner satisfaction and joy” that flows from their circumstances: They are “happy.” But they were “lucky” first.
Where does this leave us? In a word, it leaves us with the disheartening impression that we do not have total control over our lives. Benjamin Franklin and other enterprising Americans throughout our history disparaged luck, claiming that hard work and “good decisions” “manufactured” luck for them. They said: “Anyone can make it as long as they work hard.” But this, I fear, is propaganda. In my view, men like Benjamin Franklin benefited from luck and chance, no matter how hard they worked. Lord knows how many hard working people have lived on this planet who never benefited from “lucky chances.” They never became successful, famous or even happy. The lucky ones will always say: “This is how I did it… and you can do it, too!” That statement defies the very nature of luck. Luck only chooses some, not all. And it has nothing to do with talent or merit. Talent does not even increase the chances that “luck will strike.” Random means random. There is no way to influence it.
At this point, I cannot avoid discussing destiny as opposed to pure reason. I must confess that I believe in destiny, at least to the degree than I cannot rationally account for certain chance events in life. I cannot verify with my senses why I met certain people in life, why certain people lived, and others died. Quite simply, luck plays a huge role in life. And grammatically speaking, it is a prerequisite for happiness. Thus, it is a matter of chance and coincidence whether we become happy, since nothing can control the “random events” that will generate the circumstances necessary to experience the “strongly positive emotions” that flow from those lucky circumstances. Or perhaps it is destiny that determines who benefits from “chance events,” if they are even “chance events” at all. What do I know? If destiny chooses the people who benefit from chance events—and thus become happy—does that not sound like quasi-religion? There are chosen ones and there are the damned.
We all want happiness. We all want to feel good more than we feel bad. We listen to philosophers and heroes who offer us ways to find it. Yet we cannot escape grammar. Happiness turns largely on luck. Lucky people are happy. Unlucky people are not. Think about it. If some truly unlucky event befalls you, are you happy? Definitely not. Chance did not favor you. But if a lucky event befalls you, are you happy? Absolutely. You benefited from chance. It changed your circumstances and you feel great about it. Did you influence the chance events? Probably not. They would not be “chance events” if you did.
I suppose the only way to cope with luck is to cultivate a healthy respect for uncertainty in life. Maybe we will be happy. Perhaps we won’t. Yet we can spare ourselves heartbreak if we refrain from pursuing it. After all, we cannot pursue luck. And without luck, there is no true happiness. In America, this is a hard way to live. We learn that we can control our lives and we can buy anything. Yet no store sells luck or happiness. Luck can give us money, but money can’t give us luck. By the same token, money can’t give us happiness. You need luck for that.
Friday, May 15, 2009
THE SHADOW PEOPLE
OESTERHOUDT STRIKES
Have you seen the shadow people? If you get up early in the morning, you see them scurrying stone-faced from their apartments in fresh suits with laptops, briefcases or duffel bags. If they are women, you can smell newly-applied perfume as you walk past them. The women carry expensive designer bags in which they mix work papers with a few personal things. Both the men and women look like they just got out of the shower. If you don’t pay attention, you will miss them because they move fast. They move down the hallway, jump on the elevator and zip out the front door where they hail cabs. You might never see them again for three months. Then you discover that they live in your building.
I live in a pretty typical Manhattan apartment building. I thank good fortune for the fact that I do not have a “traditional job.” It lets me come and go as I please. I get up around 7:30 in the morning and go to bed around midnight. I do not have to dress up every day and I am free to leave the premises without punching a time clock or otherwise accounting to anyone for my whereabouts. I meet people who live in my building. I get used to seeing them. But occasionally I will get up earlier than 7:30. On those days, I invariably encounter “shadow people.” Just last week, I counted four new “shadow people” in my building. One lives on my floor. He is probably 30, but his facial expression makes him look about 57. I saw him at 6:45 one Thursday morning. He was on his way to work. Later the same day, I saw him coming home—still in his suit—as I came back to my apartment with dinner at 9:30 PM. On Friday morning, I was up early again. There he was, this time with wet hair and smelling like he had just washed. It was 7:00 AM. He was on his way to work again.
You know who I’m talking about. I’m talking about the people with no life-work balance. I do not like to judge others’ lifestyles, but I can’t understand the shadow people. I do not even need to meet them to know they are unhappy. It is evident. They have drawn, haggard faces. They move intensely. They look cranky. They do not stop for anything. They are always rushing. They have to be somewhere all the time, and the clock is ticking. They even curse and mutter to themselves when there is a delay of any kind. They mouth profanities in subway stations, elevators and grocery stores. If something does not go according to plan, they let others know how upset they are. After all, they have important things to do. And people expect them to be somewhere else, namely, at work.
Anyone who spends 14 hours a day working in a corporate office will eventually collapse into unhappiness. True, bright-eyed young workers who want to bootlick their way to success might have the capacity to ignore time and discomfort for a while. But as the months pass—and opportunities for youthful personal enjoyment wane—resentment and misery replace zeal and cheer. Shadow people are all relatively young. They all have something to prove. When they were very young, they lived their lives to prepare for work. Now, they are actually “living the dream.” Yet as the reality dawns on them that time escapes—and they are not getting any younger—something else displaces their enthusiasm, something desperate and intolerant. You can sense it when you encounter them. There is always some pressing issue, a phone call, a meeting. There is always something urgent, something that demands immediate attention. There is no time to waste. And that is precisely the problem. There is no time for anything anymore. Not even sleep. When time moves like that, years can pass in a flash.
Shadow people frighten me for two reasons. First, their intensity makes me feel uneasy. Second, they show me an alternate reality that is truly terrifying because it runs counter to everything I hold dear in my life. On the intensity question, who likes being around perennially nervous, edgy, rushing, pushy, unexciting people who only think about getting to work on time? Who likes enduring brutal stares when you accidentally hold up the line in the morning? Shadow people have no mercy because they live intensely. They are racing. They are competing. They have to work as many hours as they can to get a promotion, make partner or win some other monumental work-based accolade. Any moment outside the office is wasted time, and they are not afraid to tell you that. They do not tell you directly; you can just feel it by the way they look, act and speak. In short, don’t get in their way. Thankfully, it is easy to avoid them. You just need to sleep past 6 AM and get home before 10 PM.
Shadow people’s “alternate reality” frightens me every time I see it. I could have been in their position. If life had carried me in a different direction with the law, I might have been an associate at some monolithic law firm. If I had, I would have become a shadow person. I would have donned a costume every morning before dawn, crept into my office and worked on mergers until night fell and well beyond. I would have contended with billable hours requirements, overweening supervisors, supercilious colleagues and bitter rivals. Outside the office, I would have rushed to and fro in an effort to make deadlines and get home in time to snatch a few winks. Or maybe I would have just slept in a cot in the office, then washed up in the firm’s 57th floor restroom. If this had been my life, I would not have had time to reflect. I would not have had time to be forgiving. My face would have become drawn, my temples gray and my eyes sunken. I would have had no time to create anything but pleadings. I would have had no time to think for myself. Instead, I would have been a legal automaton working maniacally toward “partnerhood.” Although not all shadow people are lawyers, they all share one thing in common: Total dedication to success in the employment-centered life program.
What is that, exactly? It is what it says. To use my definition, a life program refers to a lifestyle coupled with core, guiding values, assumptions and prejudices. Lifestyle simply means a person’s everyday routine: What time to get up, what time to eat, how to dress, how to speak, where to go, what to do, etc. But a life program infuses that routine with guiding values and prejudices. In my life program, I infuse my daily routine with a respect for time, a desire to enrich my mind with new knowledge and the freedom to live independently. “Traditional success” does not guide me, nor do I feel badly that I have not achieved it. I do not put faith in “traditional success” because I believe that “traditional success” depends too much on the judgments of others. In the shadow person’s life program, however, external judgments are all-important. They want to succeed in a hierarchical system. To do that, they must please those in “superior hierarchical positions” by giving them the results they want. Their own values are irrelevant to that task. Rather, they must assume the superior’s values. Their superiors show up at the office early and stay late. So the shadow person does the same. They imitate their “successful superiors.” To achieve success, they turn to employment. And it is not just any employment. Shadow people aim high. They want stressful jobs and stressful tasks. They do not want to work 8 hours a day. They do not care about how much they sacrifice. They transform their values to suit the arduous endeavor ahead. In the “employment-centered life program,” shadow people live to work. They do not work to live. There is no balance between work and life. For shadow people, work is life, and life is work. Work provides meaning as much it provides opportunity for “success.”
But there is more to this phenomenon. Because employment is central to the “employment-centered life program,” the values of modern employment play a key role in the shadow person’s existence. These values not only control the shadow person’s bodily movements (ie, summoning his body to the office for countless hours; compelling him to adhere to mundane protocols; subjecting him to cruel and abusive treatment by superiors, etc.), but they also influence his overall perceptions. He gets dressed in a suit every morning because that is the rule. Still, he does not resent it. Why? If he reflected on the question beyond the mere “requirement” to dress formally, he would realize: “One must dress well at work in order to dignify and respect the job.” In this sense, his job takes on a noble status. Just as courtiers had to wear their best when appearing before the King, so too must modern employees wear their best to appear at work. They must dignify employment as an institution. Shadow people revere their jobs because their jobs exercise sovereign power over them in every way. That is what motivates them to get up before dawn and put on a suit. They are answering the King’s call. Employment changes their values, whether they know it or not.
You may say: “People wear suits at work; so what?” It may seem obvious. Yet I mention it because there is no real reason—in the abstract—to dignify employment. Employment means nothing but compensated service by a servant on behalf of a master. The master’s work may be utterly repugnant, selfish or unethical. It may be utterly mundane, unexciting and unprofound. Why then should the servant dignify it with fine clothes? Why dignify something that may be undignified? In my view, the idea that “employment” deserves intrinsic “respect” by “dressing well” bespeaks a hopelessly servile mindset. It is as if “service to a private economic master” has replaced “presence before the King” as the event necessitating “respectful” dress. The job has become the sovereign. Not only must the employee answer the King’s every command; rather, he must also “dignify his majesty” by appearing in his best clothes before him. The irony is that most employees at large offices rarely see anyone from the outside world while at work, rendering all their fine dress superfluous. They are not impressing anyone. There is no one there to see them. They are simply “dignifying their jobs” in the abstract. They are just following the “employment-centered life program.” And that program demands respect for employment in the abstract.
Shadow people live purposively. You can see it when you encounter them. They always have a place to go and something to do. They are always on phones or rushing off to accomplish some important task. Everything has a purpose in their lives. Every action and every thought ostensibly leads a step further to the coveted promotion, the coveted big account or the coveted deal. Purposes provide guidance and reassurance. Purposes transform into goals, and goals set purposeful action in motion. Purposes ward off meaninglessness and win “success.” On the other hand, purposes beget risk. One can either fulfill a purpose or fail to fulfill it. That means that purposes involve winning and losing. Winning fulfills the purpose. Losing leaves the purpose unfulfilled. When human beings engage in activities that involve winning and losing, their minds narrow and their emotions darken. They fixate on winning and do their utmost to avoid losing. Winning feels good; losing hurts like hell. To avoid losing and to maximize their chances to win, shadow people compete. That means they put forward their maximal efforts to accomplish their purposes, necessarily to the detriment of all those who seek to accomplish the same purpose. Competition means a spirited, contested quest to win something. It raises emotions and tensions. It raises expectations and sharpens nerves. It spawns imaginative methods calculated to win victory and avoid defeat. In victory, it intensifies good emotions. In defeat, it exacerbates bad emotions. The “employment-centered life program” constantly involves competition. That is why shadow people are so intense. They are racing to win, no matter how banal the activity. If they lose, they fail to fulfill their purpose. And that would undermine their reason for living. For shadow people, everything in life becomes competitive, from catching a cab to ordering dinner to getting the long-coveted promotion. Put simply, when people are competitive, they are not pleasant. They are trying to win. If you threaten their chances to win, you will receive no quarter from them.
Who are these people? Do you recognize them? I call them shadow people for two reasons. For one, they move quickly and almost unnoticeably, like shadows. Second, they are like shadows because they merely reflect others’ light. Shadow people live their lives for “employment-centered success.” As such, they tailor their values, habits and lifestyles to match the requirements needed to achieve that success. This makes them “shadow-like” in the sense that the “employer shines the light” and we simply see their silhouettes.
When a shadow person moves quickly down the hallway at 5:30 AM, Tumi bag in hand, he is not rushing for himself. He is rushing to fulfill his employment-related purpose. It is not his purpose. He just thinks it is his purpose. By dutifully rushing somewhere at an ungodly hour, he thinks he is advancing up the chain. But he would not be running back to the office if someone did not expect him to be there. He is expected; he does not expect. And he would not seek to advance up “the chain” if he did not implicitly revere “the chain” itself. That is shadow-like. After all, shadows are passive. They depend on some other object to exist at all. So it goes with the shadow people.
Have you seen the shadow people? If you get up early in the morning, you see them scurrying stone-faced from their apartments in fresh suits with laptops, briefcases or duffel bags. If they are women, you can smell newly-applied perfume as you walk past them. The women carry expensive designer bags in which they mix work papers with a few personal things. Both the men and women look like they just got out of the shower. If you don’t pay attention, you will miss them because they move fast. They move down the hallway, jump on the elevator and zip out the front door where they hail cabs. You might never see them again for three months. Then you discover that they live in your building.
I live in a pretty typical Manhattan apartment building. I thank good fortune for the fact that I do not have a “traditional job.” It lets me come and go as I please. I get up around 7:30 in the morning and go to bed around midnight. I do not have to dress up every day and I am free to leave the premises without punching a time clock or otherwise accounting to anyone for my whereabouts. I meet people who live in my building. I get used to seeing them. But occasionally I will get up earlier than 7:30. On those days, I invariably encounter “shadow people.” Just last week, I counted four new “shadow people” in my building. One lives on my floor. He is probably 30, but his facial expression makes him look about 57. I saw him at 6:45 one Thursday morning. He was on his way to work. Later the same day, I saw him coming home—still in his suit—as I came back to my apartment with dinner at 9:30 PM. On Friday morning, I was up early again. There he was, this time with wet hair and smelling like he had just washed. It was 7:00 AM. He was on his way to work again.
You know who I’m talking about. I’m talking about the people with no life-work balance. I do not like to judge others’ lifestyles, but I can’t understand the shadow people. I do not even need to meet them to know they are unhappy. It is evident. They have drawn, haggard faces. They move intensely. They look cranky. They do not stop for anything. They are always rushing. They have to be somewhere all the time, and the clock is ticking. They even curse and mutter to themselves when there is a delay of any kind. They mouth profanities in subway stations, elevators and grocery stores. If something does not go according to plan, they let others know how upset they are. After all, they have important things to do. And people expect them to be somewhere else, namely, at work.
Anyone who spends 14 hours a day working in a corporate office will eventually collapse into unhappiness. True, bright-eyed young workers who want to bootlick their way to success might have the capacity to ignore time and discomfort for a while. But as the months pass—and opportunities for youthful personal enjoyment wane—resentment and misery replace zeal and cheer. Shadow people are all relatively young. They all have something to prove. When they were very young, they lived their lives to prepare for work. Now, they are actually “living the dream.” Yet as the reality dawns on them that time escapes—and they are not getting any younger—something else displaces their enthusiasm, something desperate and intolerant. You can sense it when you encounter them. There is always some pressing issue, a phone call, a meeting. There is always something urgent, something that demands immediate attention. There is no time to waste. And that is precisely the problem. There is no time for anything anymore. Not even sleep. When time moves like that, years can pass in a flash.
Shadow people frighten me for two reasons. First, their intensity makes me feel uneasy. Second, they show me an alternate reality that is truly terrifying because it runs counter to everything I hold dear in my life. On the intensity question, who likes being around perennially nervous, edgy, rushing, pushy, unexciting people who only think about getting to work on time? Who likes enduring brutal stares when you accidentally hold up the line in the morning? Shadow people have no mercy because they live intensely. They are racing. They are competing. They have to work as many hours as they can to get a promotion, make partner or win some other monumental work-based accolade. Any moment outside the office is wasted time, and they are not afraid to tell you that. They do not tell you directly; you can just feel it by the way they look, act and speak. In short, don’t get in their way. Thankfully, it is easy to avoid them. You just need to sleep past 6 AM and get home before 10 PM.
Shadow people’s “alternate reality” frightens me every time I see it. I could have been in their position. If life had carried me in a different direction with the law, I might have been an associate at some monolithic law firm. If I had, I would have become a shadow person. I would have donned a costume every morning before dawn, crept into my office and worked on mergers until night fell and well beyond. I would have contended with billable hours requirements, overweening supervisors, supercilious colleagues and bitter rivals. Outside the office, I would have rushed to and fro in an effort to make deadlines and get home in time to snatch a few winks. Or maybe I would have just slept in a cot in the office, then washed up in the firm’s 57th floor restroom. If this had been my life, I would not have had time to reflect. I would not have had time to be forgiving. My face would have become drawn, my temples gray and my eyes sunken. I would have had no time to create anything but pleadings. I would have had no time to think for myself. Instead, I would have been a legal automaton working maniacally toward “partnerhood.” Although not all shadow people are lawyers, they all share one thing in common: Total dedication to success in the employment-centered life program.
What is that, exactly? It is what it says. To use my definition, a life program refers to a lifestyle coupled with core, guiding values, assumptions and prejudices. Lifestyle simply means a person’s everyday routine: What time to get up, what time to eat, how to dress, how to speak, where to go, what to do, etc. But a life program infuses that routine with guiding values and prejudices. In my life program, I infuse my daily routine with a respect for time, a desire to enrich my mind with new knowledge and the freedom to live independently. “Traditional success” does not guide me, nor do I feel badly that I have not achieved it. I do not put faith in “traditional success” because I believe that “traditional success” depends too much on the judgments of others. In the shadow person’s life program, however, external judgments are all-important. They want to succeed in a hierarchical system. To do that, they must please those in “superior hierarchical positions” by giving them the results they want. Their own values are irrelevant to that task. Rather, they must assume the superior’s values. Their superiors show up at the office early and stay late. So the shadow person does the same. They imitate their “successful superiors.” To achieve success, they turn to employment. And it is not just any employment. Shadow people aim high. They want stressful jobs and stressful tasks. They do not want to work 8 hours a day. They do not care about how much they sacrifice. They transform their values to suit the arduous endeavor ahead. In the “employment-centered life program,” shadow people live to work. They do not work to live. There is no balance between work and life. For shadow people, work is life, and life is work. Work provides meaning as much it provides opportunity for “success.”
But there is more to this phenomenon. Because employment is central to the “employment-centered life program,” the values of modern employment play a key role in the shadow person’s existence. These values not only control the shadow person’s bodily movements (ie, summoning his body to the office for countless hours; compelling him to adhere to mundane protocols; subjecting him to cruel and abusive treatment by superiors, etc.), but they also influence his overall perceptions. He gets dressed in a suit every morning because that is the rule. Still, he does not resent it. Why? If he reflected on the question beyond the mere “requirement” to dress formally, he would realize: “One must dress well at work in order to dignify and respect the job.” In this sense, his job takes on a noble status. Just as courtiers had to wear their best when appearing before the King, so too must modern employees wear their best to appear at work. They must dignify employment as an institution. Shadow people revere their jobs because their jobs exercise sovereign power over them in every way. That is what motivates them to get up before dawn and put on a suit. They are answering the King’s call. Employment changes their values, whether they know it or not.
You may say: “People wear suits at work; so what?” It may seem obvious. Yet I mention it because there is no real reason—in the abstract—to dignify employment. Employment means nothing but compensated service by a servant on behalf of a master. The master’s work may be utterly repugnant, selfish or unethical. It may be utterly mundane, unexciting and unprofound. Why then should the servant dignify it with fine clothes? Why dignify something that may be undignified? In my view, the idea that “employment” deserves intrinsic “respect” by “dressing well” bespeaks a hopelessly servile mindset. It is as if “service to a private economic master” has replaced “presence before the King” as the event necessitating “respectful” dress. The job has become the sovereign. Not only must the employee answer the King’s every command; rather, he must also “dignify his majesty” by appearing in his best clothes before him. The irony is that most employees at large offices rarely see anyone from the outside world while at work, rendering all their fine dress superfluous. They are not impressing anyone. There is no one there to see them. They are simply “dignifying their jobs” in the abstract. They are just following the “employment-centered life program.” And that program demands respect for employment in the abstract.
Shadow people live purposively. You can see it when you encounter them. They always have a place to go and something to do. They are always on phones or rushing off to accomplish some important task. Everything has a purpose in their lives. Every action and every thought ostensibly leads a step further to the coveted promotion, the coveted big account or the coveted deal. Purposes provide guidance and reassurance. Purposes transform into goals, and goals set purposeful action in motion. Purposes ward off meaninglessness and win “success.” On the other hand, purposes beget risk. One can either fulfill a purpose or fail to fulfill it. That means that purposes involve winning and losing. Winning fulfills the purpose. Losing leaves the purpose unfulfilled. When human beings engage in activities that involve winning and losing, their minds narrow and their emotions darken. They fixate on winning and do their utmost to avoid losing. Winning feels good; losing hurts like hell. To avoid losing and to maximize their chances to win, shadow people compete. That means they put forward their maximal efforts to accomplish their purposes, necessarily to the detriment of all those who seek to accomplish the same purpose. Competition means a spirited, contested quest to win something. It raises emotions and tensions. It raises expectations and sharpens nerves. It spawns imaginative methods calculated to win victory and avoid defeat. In victory, it intensifies good emotions. In defeat, it exacerbates bad emotions. The “employment-centered life program” constantly involves competition. That is why shadow people are so intense. They are racing to win, no matter how banal the activity. If they lose, they fail to fulfill their purpose. And that would undermine their reason for living. For shadow people, everything in life becomes competitive, from catching a cab to ordering dinner to getting the long-coveted promotion. Put simply, when people are competitive, they are not pleasant. They are trying to win. If you threaten their chances to win, you will receive no quarter from them.
Who are these people? Do you recognize them? I call them shadow people for two reasons. For one, they move quickly and almost unnoticeably, like shadows. Second, they are like shadows because they merely reflect others’ light. Shadow people live their lives for “employment-centered success.” As such, they tailor their values, habits and lifestyles to match the requirements needed to achieve that success. This makes them “shadow-like” in the sense that the “employer shines the light” and we simply see their silhouettes.
When a shadow person moves quickly down the hallway at 5:30 AM, Tumi bag in hand, he is not rushing for himself. He is rushing to fulfill his employment-related purpose. It is not his purpose. He just thinks it is his purpose. By dutifully rushing somewhere at an ungodly hour, he thinks he is advancing up the chain. But he would not be running back to the office if someone did not expect him to be there. He is expected; he does not expect. And he would not seek to advance up “the chain” if he did not implicitly revere “the chain” itself. That is shadow-like. After all, shadows are passive. They depend on some other object to exist at all. So it goes with the shadow people.
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