From Marcus Aurelius' book, the Meditations, there is a passage that I have revisited often. It caught me by surprise, and it struck me as counter-intuitive at first. The passage follows as such:
"Men seek for seclusion in the wilderness, by the sea-shore, or in the mountains- A dream that you have cherished only too fondly yourself. But fancies are wholly unworthy of a philosopher, since at any moment you can choose to retire within yourself. Nowhere can man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul...
After all, what frets you? The vices of humanity?...
Think of the myriad of enmities, suspicions, animosities, and conflicts that are now vanished with the dust and ashes of the men who knew them; and fret no more."
I have a significant record of escapist fantasies (often in the form of indulging in fantasy worlds, like Harry Potter, Star Wars, or The Lord of The Rings). Later in my life, I gained a deep desire to travel (sometimes called wanderlust). As a hardcore introvert, the fast paced, emotionally charged occurrences of social interactions made it hard for me to be invested in things like small talk. I found refuge in these fantasies. I avoided social gatherings like the plague. As a kid, I disliked talking to adults. I thought they only talked about mundane things like gossip or sports.
The topic I dreaded the most (even today) was business, which is the absolute vain of my existence. I say this at the risk of sounding pretentious: I have a deep, unadulterated hatred for the notion of accumulating wealth for wealth's sake (which is often the case). Now, please don't misunderstand me; I find economics to be a fascinating field and one necessary for society to function. Yet, I have a feeling that very few economists go into the field with the hope of becoming wealthy.
I would get better with age. I learned to have meaningful conversations with people in my day to day life, and I enjoy socializing with like minded peers and friends. Yet, when you have this (odd and, I'll admit, bit self-centered and prone to judgmental behavior) way of thinking, the idea of seclusion becomes very romantic, and at first I thought it to be in accordance with what I knew about philosophy. I found that if there is any consensus of ideas among the great thinkers, then it is that the mastery over the mind (will, spirit, consciousness, whatever you may wish to call it), is the best way to lead a good life. Temperance of the spirit and the refining of virtue are almost always present on the ancient's writings. If this quest to refine the will is the true philosopher's path, then why not fully pursue it? A full commitment to this ideal might mean a solitary life in retreat and contemplation. Many Philosophers have often lived in isolation, however, many more (and arguably some of the greatest), have had prominent social lives, and many dedicated themselves to teaching. This I found to be somewhat of a contradiction; I think this especially on the case of Socrates, who lived a famously vocal life, but at the same time told his friend, Crito: “It is only in death that we are truly cured of the 'sickness' of life.” In this case, Socrates believes that the spirit survives after one dies, and so, through death, he would lose his physical body (which is merely a burden to him), thus being able to focus on refining his spirit for all eternity. How can someone who considers living to be an illness, prefer to engage in public discourse? Wouldn't living as closely as one can to being dead, preferable? I kept wondering about it. Especially the passage by Aurelius. What does he mean by saying that thoughts of seclusion are "wholly unworthy of a philosopher"? Whatever it is, he surely must known a sort of truth, for Socrates agreed with him. However, I failed to grasp it's meaning.
It strikes me now that, perhaps the answer is ethical on by nature. Philosophers might feel a duty to society, to help people lead better lives. This would make sense, given the number of "schools" of philosophy that have existed throughout the years. A similar argument is given by the Stoics, who claim that everyone must live on accordance to their nature. This is to say, if you are an emperor, you should be a good one. If you are a slave, you should be a good one. However, the stoics where basing this aspect of their philosophy on the fact that they thought that nature (or the gods, and perhaps in their case, a hybrid of both: the logos) did in fact work the way they presumed it did. However it might be the case that nature does not assign us specific "natures". Nietzsche mocked the stoics for demanding their values from a nature that they themselves created, a nature "by the stoa".
It occurs to me now that perhaps I have been looking at this dilemma with the wrong lens. It is not about if the philosopher should live in seclusion or as an active member of society. It is about what we wish to accomplish with either of both. I began to see the bigger picture by reading a quote by Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics.
"Every art and every investigation, and similarly every action and pursuit, is considered to aim at some good. Hence the Good has been clearly defined as that at which all things aim".
So, basically:
"Every rational activity aims at some end or good. One end (like one activity) may be subordinate to another".
Note that Aristotle capitalizes good, as in "Hence the Good". He is talking about the thing that we do literally everything for. The ultimate goal. Indeed Aristotle is talking about the meaning of life. Well, sort of. The meaning of life (According to Aristotle) is to acquire that ultimate good.
Lets put that thought aside and come back to an isolated life. As in so far there are arguments in support it. For example, if it is a "proper" philosopher's path to refine the mind, and if such thing thing could, hypothetically, be achieved better in isolation (partial or complete, this is just a hypothetical), then the logical course of action to take is to partake on a solitary life. Yet in the other hand, Marcus Aurelius calls this behavior "unworthy of a philosopher". This is because his sense of duty or of one's own function (often in relation to a greater system: society, the state, the logos). Being on your own would just be a waste of time. Yet, why does this sense of responsibility surpass in importance the refining of the mind? It is precisely because of Plato and Aristotle. To Aristotle, the greatest good (or simply the Good) was happiness (or something similar he called eudaemonia), and the best way to be happy was to be virtuous. This may imply that, devotion to pondering philosophy, or intellectual exercises are not, in fact, the goal of life. Eudaemonia can be achieved with the help of philosophy, and perhaps through a dedication to it, if we so desire; our folly comes in thinking that the means were the end. The thing is, and Marcus Aurelius points it out, that we are, in fact, social animals. This is a part of who we are. We need to live in communities. Accepting this fact is crucial, because then we can move on to formulating an equation for happiness:
Social interaction* + X = eudaemonia
*may vary depending on the needs of the individual, however, it is necessary, and remains a constant.
So, in Aristotle's case, he came to the conclusion that X is virtue or a virtuous life. This makes sense given that a) we need to be with people, b) we need to get along with the people we live with in order to be happy (if a society that is not stable, the quality of life decreases for it's citizens), c) because this social phenomenon happens often and occurs throughout all of history, our biology has adapted to reward such social behavior.
I agree with Aristotle. Plus, an introvert such as myself could take advise from Marcus Aurelius and, with some practice, retreat into one's self, if ever the social life seems too overwhelming. However, I would like you to consider this hypothetical. A person that is confined to a single spot in, say, a city, can act virtuously. Yet, because in this hypothetical the person can't actually move, one might be inclined to think the person may become unhappy with the limits of their situation. What if their passion is to travel the world? What if they would want to become a doctor and help people? What if they could not fulfill their ambitions? So? They are being virtuous! They should be happy! Or so it seems to be.
Perhaps I think they would not be happy because I can experience, and have always experienced the joy of movement, and the possibilities it allows. But what if they were suddenly imprisoned? Perhaps living a fulfilling life is necessary to achieve eudaemonia. Perhaps living a fulfilling AND virtuous life is the better combination. (in which case, our formula for happiness would be: social interaction + fulfillment + virtue = eudaemonia). Perhaps my need for fulfillment is just a delusion. Perhaps virtue alone can sustain our happiness. Perhaps, our assumption that social interaction is a need, is incorrect. Perhaps a virtuous life is not the way to live a good life; maybe hedonism is (although this seems unlikely). Maybe, our assumption that there is no inherent meaning of life is incorrect. There is no clear answer. Which makes sense, otherwise, everyone would be happy.
But that is just another day in the life of a wandering philosopher.
Atlas.
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