Happiness and Goodness

Philosophical Reflections on Living Well

Steven M. Cahn, Christine Vitrano

• Publisher: Columbia University Press
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780231539364
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Ethics & Moral Philosophy

"Aphenomenal book that offers innovative and penetrating insights into the most fundamental questions of human concern... vivid and enjoyable."—Dov Weiss, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign How should we evaluate the success of each person's life? Countering the prevalent philosophical perspective on the subject, Steven M. Cahn and Christine Vitrano defend the view that our well-being is dependent not on particular activities, accomplishments, or awards but on finding personal satisfaction while treating others with due concern. The authors suggest that moral behavior is not necessary for happiness and does not ensure it. Yet they also argue that morality and happiness are needed for living well, and together suffice to achieve that goal. Cahn and Vitrano link their position to elements within both the Hellenistic and Hebraic traditions, in particular the views of Epicurus and lessons found in the Book of Ecclesiastes. Written in an accessible style and illustrated with incisive vignettes drawn from history, literature, films, and everyday life, Happiness and Goodness is a compelling work of philosophy for anyone who seeks to understand the nature of a good life. "Reminds me of a Socratic dialogue. The absence of jargon and use of realistic examples in this book make philosophy accessible to all interested in improving their lives."—Andrea Tschemplik, American University "This crisply written and incisive book draws on ancient thought and contemporary examples to develop a compelling account of living well."—David Shatz, Yeshiva University "I can't remember the last time I read a book about ethics that was so fascinating."—Ed Lake, deputy editor, Aeon

INTRODUCTION

How do we assess a person’s life? Do we ask how successful the person was in terms of fame, achievement, acquisitions, or relationships? Do we consider what major problems that person faced with health, family, career, or society?

Yet even after these questions are answered, other fundamental ones remain: Was the person happy? Did the person treat others ethically? Did the person live well?

Many philosophers suppose that answers to this second set of questions depend on answers to the first. Our view, however, is that the two sets are independent. In other words, morality, happiness, and quality of life do not follow from activities, accomplishments, or acclaim.

Note that we do not defend a specific moral theory. Instead, we assume that any moral person cares about others, treats them with respect, and seeks to minimize their suffering. Further complications abound, but these are not our focus.

Nor do we distinguish various terms that indicate that a person’s whole life should be viewed positively. Thus we treat as synonymous “achieving well-being,” “attaining meaning,” and “living well,” although most often we refer to the last.

Instead, we ask what are the connections between morality, happiness, and living well? Our answer is that moral behavior is not necessary for happiness and does not ensure it. Morality and happiness, however, are needed for living well, and together suffice to achieve that goal.

We shall explain this view and defend it against arguments of those contemporary philosophers who disagree with us. We include historical references, but unlike many others who have written on these topics, we do not present our ideas as commentary on the writings of Plato or Aristotle. We do, however, link our position to elements within both the Hellenistic and Hebraic traditions.

We begin by considering reflections on the good life offered by the late political and legal theorist Ronald Dworkin. Although we do not find his conclusions persuasive, his presentation offers a convenient gateway to discussion of our main subject.

WASTED LIVES?

In Dworkin’s posthumously published Religion Without God, he argues that an atheist can be religious. While this claim would come as no surprise to adherents of Jainism, Theravada Buddhism, or Mimamsa Hinduism, he has in mind not these Asian religious traditions but a viewpoint common to many Western thinkers who deny theism yet recognize “nature’s intrinsic beauty” and the “inescapable responsibility” of people to “live their lives well.”¹ Dworkin considers such an outlook religious.

Leaving aside his curious line of thought that finds sup port for religious belief in such disparate phenomena as the Grand Canyon, prowling jaguars, and the discovery by physicists of the Higgs boson, let us concentrate on his view that we should all seek to live well so as to achieve “successful” lives and avoid “wasted” ones.²

Does one model fit all? On this important point Dworkin wavers. He maintains that “there is, independently and objectively, a right way to live.” Yet he also recognizes “a responsibility of each person to decide for himself ethical questions about which kinds of lives are appropriate and which would be degrading for him.”³

What sort of life did Dworkin himself find degrading? We are not told but suspect that for such a successful academic, a “degrading life” might have been one without intellectual striving, just as a famed athlete might find degrading life as a couch potato.

But of all possible lives, which are well-lived? To help answer this question, consider the following two fictional, though realistic, cases.

Pat received a bachelor’s degree from a prestigious college and a Ph.D. in philosophy from a leading university, then was awarded an academic position at a first-rate school, and eventually earned tenure there. Pat is the author of numerous books, articles, and reviews, is widely regarded as a leading scholar and teacher, and is admired by colleagues and students for fairness and helpfulness. Pat is happily married, has two children, enjoys playing bridge and the cello, and vacations each summer in a modest house on Cape Cod. Physically and mentally healthy, Pat is in good spirits, looking forward to years of happiness.

Lee, on the other hand, did not attend college. After high school Lee moved to a beach community in California and is devoted to sunbathing, swimming, and surfing. Lee has never married but has experienced numerous romances. Having inherited wealth from deceased parents, Lee has no financial needs but, while donating generously to worthy causes, spends money freely on magnificent homes, luxury cars, designer clothes, fine dining, golfing holidays, and extensive travel. Lee has many friends and is admired for honesty and kindness. Physically and mentally healthy, Lee is in good spirits, looking forward to years of happiness.

Both Pat and Lee live in ways that appear to suit them. Both enjoy prosperity, treat others with respect, engage in activities they find fulfilling, and report they are happy. Are both living equally well? In other words, are both pursuing equally meaningful lives? Or, alternatively, is either life wasted?

Dworkin offers little guidance to help answer these questions. He urges that we make our lives into works of art,⁴ but works of arttypically contain complexities and conflicts not found in the lives of Pat or Lee. The story of each might be told in the form of a play or novel, but neither individual appears to have the makings of Medea, Hamlet, or Anna Karenina.

Dworkin also remarks that “someone creates a work of art from his life if he lives and loves well in family or community with no fame or artistic achievement at all.”⁵ Here Dworkin, having urged us to live well by making our lives into works of art, unhelpfully suggests that works of art are those made by living well. This circular explanation sheds no light on how to live well, so Dworkin’s appeal to works of art does not help us choose between the lives of Pat and Lee.

Many other philosophers, however, have provided reasons for believing that Pat’s life is superior to Lee’s. These thinkers rate the pursuit of philosophical inquiry, playing the cello, or raising a family, more highly than surfing, a series of romances, or a luxurious home.

Yet not all philosophers agree with this assessment. Two who do not are Richard Taylor and Harry Frankfurt, each of whom would maintain that Pat and Lee are living equally well.

Consider first Taylor’s approach. He discusses the case of Sisyphus, who, according to Greek myth, was condemned for his misdeeds to the eternal task of rolling a huge stone to the top of a hill, only each time to have it roll down to the bottom again. Is the activity of Sisyphus meaningless? Taylor concludes that the answer depends on whether Sisyphus has a desire to roll stones up hills. Most of us don’t, but if Sisyphus does, then he has found “mission and meaning.”⁶ Therefore, according to Taylor, living well is living in accord with your desires. If your activities match your wishes, then your life is successful. Whether the activity is teaching philosophy, driving luxury cars, or rolling stones up hills makes no difference.

Frankfurt reaches a similar conclusion. He maintains that we infuse our lives with meaning by loving certain intrinsic ends and caring about the means to achieve them. Need the ends themselves be of a particular sort? Not according to Frankfurt. As he writes, “Devoting oneself to what one loves suffices to make one’s life meaningful, regardless of the inherent or objective character of the objects that are loved.”⁷ Because Pat loves discussing philosophy, playing bridge, and spending time with family, while Lee loves surfing, golfing, and engaging in romantic adventures, both, according to Frankfurt, possess the essentials of a meaningful life.

As we noted, however, most philosophers reject this view of what makes a life significant.⁸ They maintain that certain activities are more worthy than others, so lives spent engaged in those more worthy activities are more worthy lives. But which activities have more worth and which less? And on what bases should we decide such matters?

We shall next consider in turn three much-discussed attempts to provide persuasive answers to these questions.

PROJECTS OF WORTH?

Susan Wolf maintains that “meaningful lives are lives of active engagement in projects of worth.” To be actively engaged is to be “gripped, excited, involved.”¹ As for “projects of worth,” they are those that are “worthwhile,” a term Wolf recognizes as suggesting “a commitment to some sort of objective value,” while admitting that she has “neither a philosophical theory of what objective value is nor a substantive theory about what has this sort of value.”²

She does, however, offer numerous examples of activities she believes are sources of meaning and ones that are not. Among those that yield meaning are moral or intellectual accomplishments, relationships with friends and relatives, aesthetic enterprises, religious practices, climbing a mountain, training for a marathon, campaigning for a political candidate, caring for an ailing friend, and developing one’s powers as a cellist, cabinetmaker, or pastry chef.³

Among those that do not yield meaning are collecting rubber bands, memorizing the dictionary, making handwritten copies of War and Peace, riding a roller coaster, meeting a movie star, finding a great dress on sale, loving a pet goldfish, lying on the beach on a beautiful day, eating a perfectly ripe peach, watching sitcoms, recycling, playing computer games, solving crossword puzzles, and writing checks to Oxfam and the ACLU. Wolf warns especially against “focusing too narrowly on the superficial goals of ease, prestige, and material wealth.”⁴

Controversial cases for her include a life single-mindedly given to corporate law, one devoted to a religious cult, and, an example she takes from David Wiggins, a pig farmer who buys more land to grow more corn to feed more pigs to buy more land to grow more corn to feed more pigs.⁵

Individuals she cites as paradigms of having had meaningful lives are Mother Theresa, Einstein, Cézanne, and “Gandhi, perhaps.” Among those she mentions whose lives may lack meaning are “the alienated housewife, the conscripted soldier, the assembly line worker.”⁶

These lists, unfortunately, raise more questions than they answer. Why are involvements with religious practices clearly meaningful but not devotion to a religious cult? Why is caring for an ailing friend meaningful but not providing support for a sick stranger? Why is solving crossword puzzles not an intellectual accomplishment? Why is meeting a movie star meaningless? Does Wolf suppose meeting a famous philosopher would be more meaningful? Why is having met David Lewis more meaningful than having met W. C. Fields?

Why is single-minded concentration on corporate law a controversial case? Would single-minded concentration on labor law, patent law, or constitutional law also be controversial? Does single-minded concentration on epistemology escape controversy?

Why is developing one’s powers as a pastry chef meaningful, but eating a peach is not? If we can find meaning by preparing food, why can’t we find meaning by eating it? Why is meaning found in campaigning for a political candidate who is an advocate of the ACLU, yet not found in providing funds to support the activities of the ACLU?

Why is meaning absent if one is drafted and then fights to defend one’s country? Is the problem supposed to arise from having been drafted or from fighting a war? Why is launching a business to become rich considered superficial? Does an enterprise that generates large earnings thereby lose worth?

Wolf’s warning against a focus on achieving “ease, prestige, and material wealth” is ironic, given that, as any academic dean knows, the tried-and-true method of recruiting professors is to offer them the ease most of them find in a reduced teaching schedule, the prestige of joining other well-known colleagues, and a sizable increase in salary. Trying to persuade noted scholars to join a department without offering them greater ease, prestige, or material wealth is not likely to succeed.

As for hobbies, collecting rubber bands is no doubt unusual, but people have devoted their lives to collecting stamps, coins, baseball memorabilia, beer bottles, theatrical programs, medieval works in astrology, and comic books. Are some collections meaningful and others not?

On...

Table of contents

• Cover 
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents 
• Foreword
• Preface
• 1. Introduction
• 2. Wasted Lives?
• 3. Projects of Worth?
• 4. Flourishing?
• 5. Things That Matter?
• 6. Morality and Happiness
• 7. Morality and Unhappiness
• 8. Character
• 9. Appearing Moral
• 10. God and Morality
• 11. Heaven and Hell
• 12. Moral Judgments
• 13. Moral Standards
• 14. Choosing the Experience Machine
• 15. Happiness and Ignorance
• 16. Assessing Achievement
• 17. Pleasures and Pains
• 18. Fear of the Divine
• 19. Fear of Unfulfilled Desires
• 20. Fear of Death
• 21. Futility
• 22. Living Well
• 23. Satisfaction
• 24. Concluding Questions
• Notes
• Index
• About the Authors