Epi-curious

It is a bitter November day and a leaden sky hangs low between the ridge tops. The leaves are all off of the trees — save for the oaks, which will hold on to their dead leaves until Spring, when new ones will push them aside.

On this day I was catching up on some reading… I started with the New York Times.

Our traditional emphasis on inspiration promotes a reliance on serendipity, which, in turn, helps dampen the potentially paralyzing awareness of the infinite choices available when you create a fictional world.

The economist Herbert Simon, who reminded us of the futility of trying to consider every possible alternative in a world without end, might have had in mind the budding novelist in Albert Camus’s “Plague,” determined to create a perfect first sentence and therefore unable to advance beyond it.

Computers as Authors? Literary Luddites Unite!

Google, being my friend and constant companion, led me to more information on Herbert Simon, which led in turn to an article from the October 1999 issue of American Psychologist, “If We Are So Rich, Why Aren’t We Happy?” Here is the introduction:

Psychology is the heir to those “sciences of man” envisioned by Enlightenment thinkers such as Gianbattista Vico, David Hume, and the baron de Montesquieu. One of their fundamental conclusions was that the pursuit of happiness constituted the basis of both individual motivation and social well-being. This insight into the human condition was condensed by John Locke (1690/1975) in his famous statement, “That we call Good which is apt to cause or increase pleasure, or diminish pain” (p. 2), whereas evil is the reverse — it is what causes or increases pain and diminishes pleasure.

The generation of utilitarian philosophers that followed Locke, including David Hartley, Joseph Priestley, and Jeremy Benthani, construed a good society as that which allows the greatest happiness for the greatest number (Bentham, 1789/1970, pp. 64 — 65). This focus on pleasure or happiness as the touchstone of private and public life is by no means a brainchild of post-Reformation Europe. It was already present in the writings of the Greeks — for instance, Aristotle noted that although humankind values a great many things, such as health, fame, and possessions, because we think that they will make us happy, we value happiness for itself. Thus, happiness is the only intrinsic goal that people seek for its own sake, the bottom line of all desire. The idea that furthering the pursuit of happiness should be one of the responsibilities of a just government was of course enshrined later in the Declaration of Independence of the United States.

Despite this recognition on the part of the human sciences that happiness is the fundamental goal of life, there has been slow progress in understanding what happiness itself consists of. Perhaps because the heyday of utilitarian philosophy coincided with the start of the enormous forward strides in public health and in the manufacturing and distribution of goods, the majority of those who thought about such things assumed that increases in pleasure and happiness would come from increased affluence, from greater control over the material environment. The great self-confidence of the Western technological nations, and especially of the United States, was in large part because of the belief that materialism — the prolongation of a healthy life, the acquisition of wealth, the ownership of consumer goods — would be the royal road to a happy life.

However, the virtual monopoly of materialism as the dominant ideology has come at the price of a trivialization that has robbed it of much of the truth it once contained. In current use, it amounts to little more than a thoughtless hedonism, a call to do one’s thing regardless of consequences, a belief that whatever feels good at the moment must be worth doing.

This is a far cry from the original view of materialists, such as John Locke, who were aware of the futility of pursuing happiness without qualifications and who advocated the pursuit of happiness through prudence — making sure that people do not mistake imaginary happiness for real happiness.

What does it mean to pursue happiness through prudence? Locke must have derived his inspiration from the Greek philosopher Epicurus, who 2,300 years ago already saw clearly that to enjoy a happy life, one must develop self-discipline. The materialism of Epicurus was solidly based on the ability to defer gratification. He claimed that although all pain was evil, this did not mean one should always avoid pain — for instance, it made sense to put up with pain now if one was sure to avoid thereby a greater pain later. He wrote to his friend Menoeceus

The beginning and the greatest good… is prudence. For this reason prudence is more valuable even than philosophy: from it derive all the other virtues. Prudence teaches us how impossible it is to live pleasantly without living wisely, virtuously, and justly… take thought, then, for these and kindred matters day and night… You shall be disturbed neither waking nor sleeping, and you shall live as a god among men. (Epicurus of Samos, trans. 1998, p. 48)

This is not the image of epicureanism held by most people. The popular view holds that pleasure and material comforts should be grasped wherever they can, and that these alone will improve the quality of one’s life. As the fruits of technology have ripened and the life span has lengthened, the hope that increased material rewards would bring about a better life seemed for a while justified.

Now, at the end of the second millennium, it is becoming clear that the solution is not that simple. Inhabitants of the wealthiest industrialized Western nations are living in a period of unprecedented riches, in conditions that previous generations would have considered luxuriously comfortable, in relative peace and security, and they are living on the average close to twice as long as their great-grandparents did. Yet, despite all these improvements in material conditions, it does not seem that people are so much more satisfied with their lives than they were before.

If We Are So Rich, Why Aren’t We Happy

So I got to thinking about prudence. Here are some definitions:

pru·dence

  1. The state, quality, or fact of being prudent.
  2. Careful management; economy.

Synonyms: prudence, discretion, foresight, forethought, circumspection

These nouns refer to the exercise of good judgment, common sense, and even caution, especially in the conduct of practical matters. Prudence is the most comprehensive: “She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older” (Jane Austen). Discretion suggests wise self-restraint, as in resisting a rash impulse: “The better part of valor is discretion” (Shakespeare). Foresight implies the ability to foresee and make provision for what may happen: She had the foresight to make backups of her computer files. Forethought suggests advance consideration of future eventualities: The empty refrigerator indicated a lack of forethought. Circumspection implies discretion, as out of concern for moral or social repercussions: “The necessity of the times, more than ever, calls for our utmost circumspection” (Samuel Adams).

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition

pru·dence

: attentiveness to possible hazard : caution or circumspection as to danger or risk

Merriam-Webster Dictionary of Law

prudence

The quality or state of being prudent; wisdom in the way of caution and provision; discretion; carefulness; hence, also, economy; frugality.

Prudence is principally in reference to actions to be done, and due means, order, seasons, and method of doing or not doing. —Sir M. Hale.

Prudence supposes the value of the end to be assumed, and refers only to the adaptation of the means. It is the relation of right means for given ends. —Whewell.

Syn: Wisdom; forecast; providence; considerateness; judiciousness; discretion; caution; circumspection; judgment.

Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary

prudence

  1. discretion in practical affairs [ant: imprudence]
  2. knowing how to avoid embarrassment or distress; “the servants showed great tact and discretion” [syn: discretion, discreetness, circumspection]

WordNet® 2.0

So, I am thinking to myself, “This is not the image of epicureanism that I hold (Q.E.D.). Back to the dictionary I go.

ep·i·cu·re·an

  1. Devoted to the pursuit of sensual pleasure, especially to the enjoyment of good food and comfort.
  2. Suited to the tastes of an epicure: an epicurean repast.
  3. Epicurean Of or relating to Epicurus or Epicureanism.
  4. A devotee to sensuous and luxurious living; an epicure.
  5. Epicurean A follower of Epicurus.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition

epicurean

  1. Pertaining to Epicurus, or following his philosophy. “The sect Epicurean.” —Milton.
  2. Given to luxury; adapted to luxurious tastes; luxurious; pertaining to good eating.

    Courses of the most refined and epicurean dishes. —Prescott.

  3. A follower or Epicurus.
  4. One given to epicurean indulgence.

Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary

epicurean

  1. of Epicurus or epicureanism; “Epicurean philosophy” [syn: Epicurean]
  2. devoted to pleasure; “a hedonic thrill”; “lives of unending hedonistic delight”; “epicurean pleasures” [syn: hedonic, hedonistic]
  3. furnishing gratification of the senses; “an epicurean banquet”; “enjoyed a luxurious suite with a crystal chandelier and thick oriental rugs”; “Lucullus spent the remainder of his days in voluptuous magnificence”; “a chinchilla robe of sybaritic lavishness” [syn: luxurious, sybaritic, voluptuary, voluptuous] n : a person devoted to refined sensuous enjoyment (especially good food and drink) [syn: epicure, gourmet, gastronome, bon vivant, foodie]

WordNet ® 2.0

That last one resonates a little better with my understanding of epicureanism: gluttonous, hedonistic foodies. Ah, yes, the tie-in with food!

So, how can I consummate the congnitive dissonance created by these competing concepts? Look at it this way. Do you remember the story of the ant and the grasshopper? The ant toils all Summer long, storing away food for the Winter. The grasshopper plays all Summer and suffers as Winter approaches. The ant is being prudent having foresight to the risk of not having adequate stores through the Winter. At the same time, once Winter arrives and the grasshopper comes to the ant’s door, the ant seems to live in epicurean luxury, with abundant supplies and unwilling to show charity. Imagine the headlines: “Impoverished Grasshopper Dies on Doorstep of Epicurean Ant.”

So…

Gretchen and I made Apple Butter the other day. I know it sounds decadent, but we were really just trying to preserve some apples that were about to go bad. “Waste-not, Want-not.”

2 Replies to “Epi-curious”

  1. oh i think the best explanation of epicureanism is lucretius’ de rerum natura. (http://www.utm.edu/research/iep/l/lucretiu.htm).

    he makes it pretty clear that the true basis of the idea is “tranquility” in the face of life’s disasters.

    the philosophy got such a bad name, i think, because it is atomistic, materialist, turns away from civics and politics, and doesn’t believe in an afterlife.

    that’s why you should *be here now* so to speak. . .

  2. Be present in the moment…

    We’ve known the answer for 10,000 years, but nobody wants to listen because it seems too simple.

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