Footnotes to Plato from the foothills of the Superstition Mountains
If you aim to avoid idle talk, then you ought also aim to avoid idle thought. A maxim to mind:
Avoid the near occasion of useless conversation.
This applies both to conversation with others and with oneself. The latter is avoided by internal situational awareness which is classically enjoined by:
Guard the mind.
Not easy. It is easy to avoid others, but not easy to avoid one's garrulous self.
The following arrived on Christmas Eve:
Apatheia, Ataraxia, and Holiday Spirit
I was wondering if you had any advice for those struggling to maintain their Stoic calm as Christmas approaches. Alas, I am one of those souls this year. I will not burden you with the details, but it seems the holidays also bring out many of our dear friends’ struggles with booze. To wit, a friend of nearly 20 years began a bender about a week ago that culminated this morning with his saying to me, this morning, some things that no self-respecting man could forgive in one to be labeled a friend, especially when one has had to forgive booze related outbursts several times before.
So, it seems the modifiers, not the nouns, are the functional words in phrases like “old friends” and this friendship will now be over. I have consulted Seneca on friendship and anger, and I recall Cicero’s advice, but I fear the philosophers offer little in the way of immediate comfort as I accept this loss (and also reflect on what the whiskey demons bring out in myself). I expect you must be inundated with mail this time of year, so know that I appreciate your reading this message. If you have any advice, or perhaps a reading suggestion, I’d appreciate the time you took to do so very much. Merry Christmas!
There are two main topics here, interpersonal relationships and the role of alcohol.
How you negotiate interpersonal relations depends on your psychological type. I'm an inner-directed man in roughly David Riesman's sense, who knows what he is about and what he wants to achieve. So for me, cost-benefit analysis comes into play when I choose whom to associate with and whom to avoid. Will contact with this person help me achieve my goals or will it hinder me? Any relationship with anyone incurs costs and provides benefits. So I calculate whether the benefits will outweigh the costs, given my goals. To do this requires self-knowledge. So that is where you must start. Know thyself! But it also requires knowledge of the people you will be associating with. Some people are trouble. You can't help them, but they can harm you. Why are you associating with them? For literary purposes? Because you foolishly overestimate your healing powers? Christ hung out with sinners. But he had special powers, to put it mildly.
On the basis of the slim facts presented, I say that my reader ought to break off contact with his drunkard 'friend.' Break off a 20-year friendship? Well, was it a friendship of affinity or a friendship of propinquity? I won't pause to explain what I mean; you should be able to catch my meaning. If there was a deep bond, and the guy hit hard times and sought solace in the bottle, then that puts a different complexion on things. Maybe my reader should try to help his friend. There is a difference between a heavy drinker and an alcoholic: every (unreformed) alky is a heavy drinker but not conversely. If the friend is an alky, it would probably be best to deep-six him, even if he is 'on the wagon.' It's a good bet he will fall off. As a general rule, people do not change. WYSIWYG! And will continue to get. Schopenhauer spoke of the immutability of character, with only slight exaggeration. The italicized rule is a very important bit of life wisdom. For example, don't marry someone with the thought that you will change him or her. That way lies misery. To my reader, I say: There is no point in wasting time with some guy whose whole life is dominated by the project of climbing out of a hole he himself freely dug with a cocktail glass. The same goes for those who dig their holes and graves with fork and spoon or syringe.
But again, it all depends. Suppose the guy is not an alky. Is my reader single or married? If married, does he have children? Would you want your wife and children to come into contact with a drunkard? Presumably not.
And if you associate with drunks, are you not giving tacit moral approval to their immoral behavior? It is not morally wrong to to have a drink, but it is morally wrong to get drunk, even if you harm no one but yourself. I'll spare you the argument, but invite you think about it.
My reader mentions Stoicism. Here is a brief summary of the Stoic attitude:
There are things that are in our power, and things that are not. The flood that sweeps away my house is not in my power; but my response to the flood is. I can make myself miserable by blaming other people, from the president on down; or I can limit my suffering by taking control of my own mind. Your insulting me is not in my power; but whether or not I let it affect me is in my power.
The Stoics had an important insight into the mind's power to regulate itself. When you really understand their point it can come as a revelation. I was once thinking of a dead relative and how he had wronged me. I began to succumb to negative thoughts, but caught myself and suddenly realized that I am doing it. I saw that I was allowing the negative thoughts to arise and that I had the power to blot them out. The incident was years in the past, and the malefactor was long dead. So the mental disturbance was my own creation. My sudden realization of this — aided no doubt by my reading of Stoic and other wisdom literature — caused the disturbance to vanish.
The Stoics discerned the mind's power to regulate itself and master its thoughts, rather than be mastered by them. They saw that, within certain limits, we create our own reality. Within limits, we can make ourselves miserable and we can make ourselves happy. There is an inner citadel into which one can retreat, and where a very real peace can be enjoyed — assuming that one is willing to practice the Stoic precepts rather than merely read about them.
Stoic calm is not that hard to maintain as long as one avoids the near occasion of unnecessary vexation. Here then is a further reason for my reader to break with his 'friend.'
Coming back to the question of self-knowledge, I recommend that my reader consult Karen Horney (pronounced like horn-eye, not like whore-knee). I don't know if she is much read these days but her books are well-written and full of insight. Here is a taste:
Interpersonal Strategies of Defense
According to Horney, people try to cope with their basic anxiety by adopting a compliant or self-effacing solution and moving toward people, by adopting an aggressive or expansive solution and moving against people, or by becoming detached or resigned and moving away from people. Healthy people move appropriately and flexibly in all three directions, but in neurotic development these moves become compulsive and indiscriminate. Each solution involves a constellation of behavior patterns and personality traits, a conception of justice, and a set of beliefs about human nature, human values, and the human condition. Each also involves a "deal" or bargain with fate in which obedience to the dictates of that solution is supposed to be rewarded.
I would only add that while healthy people are able to behave in all three ways (compliant, expansive, detached) as circumstances require, one can be psychologically healthy and favor one of the interpersonal strategies over the other two. Those of us who resonate to the Stoic teaching are most likely to favor the detachment strategy and move away from people when their bad behavior erupts, by either minimizing one's contact with them, or cutting them off entirely. I have done both. Pre-emptive measures are also to be considered. We were invited to Christmas dinner and to a New Year's Eve party, get-togethers in both cases organized by my wife's friends. I told the wife I would attend one event but not both. I thereby limited the threat to my apatheia and ataraxia.
Finally, having just revealed myself as an introvert and an advocate of detachment (better: non-attachment), I now say to my reader that he should consider who is now giving him advice and factor that in when considering how much of it he should take.
Post-finally, here is a short video clip from Tombstone in which the bad behavior of Johnny Ringo is excused by Curly Bill on the ground that it is the booze in Johnny that is talking. The relevance to my reader's problem is obvious.
Out of sight
Out of mind
Out of range
Of the ill
Will and thought
Of others.
Currently atop the Substack pile. With a little help from Kafka, Heidegger, Schopenhauer, and Einstein.
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Thomas writes (12/29),
A very nice note for the (nearly) new year. It took me decades to realise I am one of those who was nearly socially self-sufficient all his life – no school yard bullying ever touched me, although I was one of the shorter ones until I grew late. And I had no problem concentrating, reading and creating (a few) new ideas in my work for hours on end (indeed, for years on end), whereas I find most people never ever perform such simple feats even once in their lives – concentrating and writing for 4 – 8 hours? How do you do it? How do you not do it, I reply . . .It takes a long time for me to understand the difference because of course we all think we are the same inside until we inspect some bit of human behaviour and find differences. One difference is: socially reliant people have no mental resilience. They can't deal with difficulties on their own. Therefore in crisis situations, which often occur in social groups reacting to wider events, most people determine their responses in a miasma of fear and group-think – a guarantee of poor quality outcomes. So the socially self-sufficient nearly always under-estimate the state of constant frustration (due to non-achievement) and anxiety (when no idle chat or other filler activity is available) of others. So we are amazed when society takes the turns it does. We are exceptionally ignorant, until we study mental lassitude scientifically!Your whisky aphorism has it right. We do need a bit. After all, wit (in the esprit sense) partly comes from talk. And the Kafka quote: responding to corns should just be done, not heard, while one is actually thinking about or discussing things of import, or at least containing some wit.But perhaps there is something to mindless chat? Maybe it serves a purpose such as to limit social violence, in the same way that greeting others (in European culture at least) with a kiss on both cheeks probably (?) limits fist-swinging, at least for that day. I have no idea.
Your invitation's kind
So I hope you won't mind
If your party I miss.
To be alone is bliss.Your friends are such a bore
And idle talk's a chore
They will be good to miss.
To be alone is bliss.
Social distancing? I've been doing it all my life. O beata solitudo, sola beatitudo! Happy solitude, the sole beatitude. How sweet it is, and made sweeter still by a little socializing.
Full lockdown? I could easily take it, and put it to good use. It provides an excellent excuse to avoid meaningless holiday socializing with its empty and idle talk.
Franz Kafka: The Diaries 1910-1923, ed. Max Brod, Schocken 1948, p. 199:
In the next room my mother is entertaining the L. couple. They are talking about vermin and corns. (Mrs. L. has six corns on each toe.) It is easy to see that there is no real progress made in conversations of this sort. It is information that will be forgotten again by both and that even now proceeds along in self-forgetfulness without any sense of responsibility.
I have read this passage many times, and what delights me each time is the droll understatement of it: "there is no real progress made in conversations of this sort." No indeed. There is no progress because the conversations are not seriously about anything worth talking about. There is no Verantwortlichkeit (responsibility): the talk does not answer (antworten) to anything real in the world or anything real in the interlocutors. It is jaw-flapping for its own sake, mere linguistic behavior which, if it conveys anything, conveys: ‘I like you, you like me, and everything’s fine.’
The interlocutors float along in the inauthenticity (Uneigentlichkeit) of what Martin Heidegger calls das Man, the ‘they self.’ Compare Heidegger’s analysis of idle talk (Gerede) in Sein und Zeit (1927), sec. 35.
Am I suggesting that one should absolutely avoid idle talk? That would be to take things to an unnecessary and perhaps imprudent extreme. It is prudent to get yourself perceived as a regular guy — especially if you are an 'irregular guy.'
I am not under full lockdown like the Canadians in Ontario province. But the weight room now allows only six at a time and for one hour only, and you have to book each session in advance. This Christmas Eve should be very nice. I booked a 3-4 pm slot. I expect no one else to be there; I can overstay into the 4-5 pm slot. I can sing, talk to myself, grunt, groan, and use any machine. The TVs will be on; I can crank the fans way up. I shall commandeer the stationary bike upon which I will pedal while reading J. J. Valberg's superb The Puzzle of Experience. Ditto tomorrow.
Ganz man selbst sein, kann man nur wenn man allein ist. (Schopenhauer, Parerga und Paralipomena) "Only when one is alone can one be entirely oneself." (tr. BV)
I wouldn't make a very good socialist.
Oh happy solitude, sole beatitude! The introvert comes most fully into his own and most deeply savors his psychological good fortune, in old age, as Einstein attests.
Albert Einstein, "Self-Portrait" in Out of My Later Years (Citadel Press, 1956), p. 5:
. . . For the most part I do the thing which my own nature drives me to do. It is embarrassing to earn so much respect and love for it. Arrows of hate have been shot at me too; but they never hit me, because somehow they belonged to another world, with which I have no connection whatsoever.
I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.
Among regular guys it is best to play the regular guy — as tiring and boring as that can be. Need relief? Strictly limit your time among regular guys. But mix with them a little lest you be hated for being 'aloof,' or 'unfriendly.'
As long as one is in the world, one must be able to pass as being of the world.
Almost all socializing is levelling and dispiriting. It drains one's spiritual sap. But a little socializing is good, like a little whisky. In both cases, however, more is not better.
In this fallen world, society is the enemy of solitude, and solitude is to be preferred if the good of the soul is a goal.
But I can imagine a form of sociality superior to solitude. This would be a society of spirits who had passed through the school of solitude and had achieved self-individuation. But such a society is not to be had here below, if anywhere.
A qualification is needed. There are rare occasions in rare friendships in which one gets a glimpse of what that sodality of spirit would be like.
I'll end on a mundane note. In my experience, a little socializing is often physically stimulating. On an early morning ramble, I am doing alright. I encounter an acquaintance. We chat for a few minutes. When I start up again I feel energized. There's a spring in my step and glide to my stride. I exult, "I feel better than any old man should be allowed to feel."
RELATED: Introverts and Inwardness
Time it took to compose this entry: 35 minutes from 4:00 to 4:35.
Here:
Gov. Doug Ducey on Monday issued a statewide "stay-at-home" order to slow the spread of the new coronavirus, preventing Arizonans from leaving their residences except for food, medicine and other "essential activities."
The directive, which also allows for outdoor exercise, will take effect upon close of business Tuesday [3/31] and apply through at least April 30.
You extroverts will suffer, and it will be a moral challenge for us introverts to contain our Schadenfreude.
Patrick Kurp of Anecdotal Evidence is an introvert too, not that I am surprised:
Our time has come – introverts, that is. We who are happiest with our thoughts, who shun the mob, for whom “social” is code for “tedious,” who never exchange high-fives or fist bumps, who remain in our rooms with Pascalian contentedness, who are stubbornly unclubbable, who have the good taste never to be the life of the party – we are fulfilling our civic and ethical obligations simply by being ourselves. Social distancing is second nature, old hat, the common sense of sensible people. Extroverts, we’ve always known, are dangerous.
He then goes on to quote a guy I know.
There is an analog of contagion in the spread of attitude. Moods are socially transmissible. Which do you carry? Which do you avoid? Voluntary social self-quarantine is something to consider.
Thus spoke the introvert.
This is a re-post from April 2012 with minor edits and additions.
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The bolded material below is taken verbatim from Susan Cain, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking (Crown 2012), p. 13. I then give my responses. The more affirmative responses, the more of an introvert you are.
1. I prefer one-on-one conversations to group activities. Absolutely! Especially in philosophical discussions. As Roderick Chisholm once said, "In philosophy, three's a crowd."
2. I often prefer to express myself in writing. Yes.
3. I enjoy solitude. Is the Pope Catholic? Beata solitudo, sola beatitudo. Happy solitude, the sole beatitude.
4. I seem to care less than my peers about wealth, fame, and status. Seem? Do!
Money is a mere means. To pursue it as an end in itself is perverse. And once you have enough, you stop acquiring more and turn to higher pursuits.
As for fame, it is a fool's cynosure. Obscurity is delicious. To be able to walk down the street and pass as an ordinary schmuck is wonderful. The value of fame and celebrity is directly proportional to the value of the fools and know-nothings who confer it. And doesn't Aristotle say that to be famous you need other people, which fact renders you dependent on them? He does indeed, in his Nicomachean Ethics.
Similarly with social status. Who confers it? And what is their judgment worth?
5. I dislike small talk, but I enjoy talking in depth about topics that matter to me. More than once in these pages have I ranted about the endless yap, yap, yap, about noth, noth, nothing.
6. People tell me I'm a good listener. Yes. My mind drifts back to a girl I knew when I was fifteen. She called me her 'analyst' when she wasn't calling me 'Dr. Freud.'
7. I'm not a big risk-taker. That's right. I recently took a three-day motorcycle course, passed it, and got my license. I had been eyeing the Harley-Davidson 883 Iron. But then I asked myself how riding a motorcycle would further my life tasks and whether it makes sense, having come this far, to risk my life and physical integrity in pursuit of cheap thrills.
8. I enjoy work that allows me to "dive in" with few interruptions. Right. No instant messaging. Only recently acquired a cell phone. I keep it turned off. Call me the uncalled caller. Still don't have a smart phone. My wife is presently in a faraway land on a Fulbright. That allows me to unplug the land-line. I love e-mail; fast but unintrusive. I'll answer when I feel like it and get around to it. I don't allow myself to be rushed or interrupted.
9. I like to celebrate birthdays on a small scale, with only one or two close friends or family members. I don't see the point of celebrating birthdays at all. What's to celebrate? First, birth is not unequivocally good. Second, it is not something you brought about. It befell you. Better to celebrate some good thing that you made happen.
10. People describe me as "soft-spoken" or "mellow." I'm too intense to be called 'mellow,' but sotto voce applies.
11. I prefer not to show or discuss my work with others until it is finished. Pretty much, with the exception of these blog scribblings.
12. I dislike conflict. Can't stand it. I hate onesidedness. I look at a problem from all angles and try to mediate oppositions when possible. I thoroughly hate, reject, and abjure the blood sport approach to philosophy. Polemic has no place in philosophy. This is not to say that it does not have a place elsewhere, in politics for example. Don't confuse politics with political philosophy.
13. I do my best work on my own. Yes. A former colleague, a superficial extrovert, once described me as 'lone wolf.' 'Superficial extrovert' smacks of pleonasm. An extrovert is like a mirror: nothing in himself, he is only what reflects. Is that fair? Fair enough for a blog post. Or an extrovert is like an onion: peel away the last skin and arrive at — precisely nothing. The extrovert manages to be surface all the way down. Or you could say that he is merely a node in a social network. He is constituted by his social relations, and nothing apart from them; hence no substance that enters into social relations.
14. I tend to think before I speak. Yes.
15. I feel drained after being out and about, even if I've enjoyed myself. Yes. This is a common complaint of introverts. They can take only so much social interaction. It depletes their energy and they need to go off by themselves to 'recharge their batteries.' In my case, it is not just an energy depletion but a draining away of my 'spiritual substance.' It is as if one's interiority has been compromised and one has entered into inauthenticity, Heidegger's Uneigentlichkeit. The best expression of this sense of spiritual depletion is probably Kierkegaard's remark in one of his early journal entries about a party he attended:
I have just returned from a party of which I was the life and soul; witty banter flowed from my lips, everyone laughed and admired me — but I came away, indeed that dash should be as along as the radii of the earth's orbit ———————————————————- wanting to shoot myself. (1836)
16. I often let calls go through to e-mail. Yes. See comment to #8 above.
17. If I had to choose, I'd prefer a weekend with absolutely nothing to do to one with too many things scheduled. I love huge blocks of time, days at a stretch, with no commitments whatsoever. Dolce far niente. Sweet to do nothing.
18. I don't enjoy multitasking. Right. One thing at a time.
19. I can concentrate easily. Obviously, and for long stretches of time.
20. In classroom situations, I prefer lecture to seminars. Especially if I'm doing the lecturing.
Here is a description of the Myers-Briggs INTP. And here is another.
We introverts make up about a quarter of the population. No surprise, then, that we are poorly understood. We are not shy or anti-social. Extroverts abuse us, but there is no need to reply in kind since the present turn of events will do the job for us. They will suffer. We will have no trouble maintaining our social distance. We have rich inner lives and welcome the opportunity to have an excuse to withdraw from the idle talkers, the unserious, the spiritless, and the superficial. Call it the Introvert Advantage.
"All of a man's problems derive from his inability to sit quietly alone in his room."
An exaggeration, no doubt, but curiously apropos at the present time.
More on Pascal in my Pascal category.
Thomas Merton wrote a very good book, The Silent Life. Had he been more assiduous in the living of that life he would not have quit his hermitage to attend a theology conference in Bangkok where he met his end by electrocution at the young age of 53.
I will come back to what for Merton and for many of us is the central conflict in the spiritual life, that between contemptus mundi and secular concern.
More on Merton in my Merton category.
We introverts need our solitude, and in a world lousy teeming with extroverts, we can easily see the bright side of the 'social distancing' that prudence demands in the face of the Wuhan Flu. It offers us a good excuse to avoid idle talk and social dissipation.
"I really would love to attend the block party and partake of the pot luck, but given my age-related susceptibility and the enormity of the WuFlu threat . . . ."
Related:
Relations with extroverts should be left at the superficial level. Never seek a deep relation with a person who is surface all the way down.