97-Year-Old Philosopher Ponders the Meaning of Life: “What Is the Point of It All?”

If you’ve sat by the bed­side of a dying friend or rel­a­tive, or recov­ered from a ter­mi­nal ill­ness your­self, you may know too well: the con­cerns of yesterday—career anx­i­eties, polit­i­cal high stakes, per­son­al grudges—can slip away into the rear view, becom­ing small­er and more mean­ing­less as hours pass into final days. What takes their place? Maybe a savor­ing of the moment, maybe regrets over moments not savored, maybe a grow­ing acknowl­edg­ment that grat­i­tude mat­ters more than being right. Maybe a will­ing­ness to let go of pri­or ideas—not to adopt new ones, but to open to the ques­tions again.

Some­times, this expe­ri­ence is bewil­der­ing and fright­en­ing, espe­cial­ly when cou­pled with the pains of ill­ness and old age. What­ev­er insights one might have at the thresh­old of death, they can­not eas­i­ly over­come “life­long habits,” says Her­bert Fin­garette in the can­did short film Being 97, a doc­u­men­tary made in the last months of the con­trar­i­an Amer­i­can philosopher’s life. By the time of his death,” notes Aeon, “Fin­garette (1921–2018) had lived what most would con­sid­er a full and mean­ing­ful life. His mar­riage to his wife, Leslie, was long and hap­py. His career as a pro­fes­sor of phi­los­o­phy at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia was both accom­plished and con­tro­ver­sial.”

By this time, his wife of sev­en­ty years had been gone for sev­en. And at 97, phys­i­cal­ly frail and his career long over, Fin­garette was com­ing to terms with “lone­li­ness and absence” as well as with his need for help from oth­er peo­ple to do sim­ple tasks. After 42 years of teaching—and writ­ing on sub­jects like self-decep­tion, Con­fu­cian­ism, eth­i­cal respon­si­bil­i­ty, and addiction—he was also grap­pling with the fact he had been wrong about one par­tic­u­lar­ly press­ing mat­ter, at least.

Fin­garette became infa­mous when, with­out under­tak­ing any sci­en­tif­ic research him­self, he claimed in the 1988 book Heavy Drink­ing that alco­holism was a prob­lem of self con­trol, not a dis­ease. But he does not speak of the polit­i­cal furor in this minor con­tro­ver­sy. Eleven years lat­er, he took on an even heav­ier sub­ject in Death: Philo­soph­i­cal Sound­ings. “What I said was in a nut­shell,” he recalls, “is there’s no rea­son to be afraid or con­cerned or any­thing about death because when you die, there’s noth­ing. You’re not going to suf­fer, you’re not going to be unhap­py… you’re not going to be…. It’s not ratio­nal to be afraid of death.”

He admits, “I now think that is not a good state­ment, because I think it’s impor­tant to fig­ure out why it is then that peo­ple are afraid of death. Why am I con­cerned about it?” His best think­ing aside, “my sense of real­ism tells me, well, no good rea­son or not, it is some­thing that haunts me. I walk around the house and I ask myself, ‘What is the point of it all? There must be some­thing I’m miss­ing in this argu­ment.’” He asks, he says, know­ing “that there isn’t any good answer.” But that doesn’t stop him from look­ing for one. We see Fingarette’s life­long habits as a thinker push him for­ward in pur­suit of what he calls a “fool­ish ques­tion,” although he intu­its that “the answer might be… the silent answer.”

It’s a painful exis­ten­tial real­iza­tion for a man so devot­ed to log­i­cal argu­ment and pro­nounce­ments of cer­tain­ty. This film of Fin­garette in his last months is both a per­son­al­ly mov­ing por­trait and a dra­ma in minia­ture of a uni­ver­sal human dilem­ma: why is it so hard to accept the inevitable? Why do we have minds that strug­gle against it? The mul­ti­tude of pos­si­ble answers may be far less mean­ing­ful than the expe­ri­ence of the ques­tion itself, painful and tran­scen­dent as it is, whether we are griev­ing the loss of oth­ers, fac­ing our own mor­tal­i­ty, or, as in Fin­garet­te’s case, both at once.

Being 97 will be added to our list of Free Online Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

via Aeon

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Death: A Free Phi­los­o­phy Course from Yale Helps You Grap­ple with the Inescapable

Alan Watts Explains Why Death is an Art, Adven­ture and Cre­ative Act

When Aldous Hux­ley, Dying of Can­cer, Left This World Trip­ping on LSD, Expe­ri­enc­ing “the Most Serene, the Most Beau­ti­ful Death” (1963)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

 

A Brief Animated Introduction to Noam Chomsky’s Linguistic Theory, Narrated by The X‑Files’ Gillian Anderson

How is it that chil­dren just enter­ing tod­dler­hood pick up the struc­ture of their respec­tive lan­guages with ease? They are not for­mal­ly taught to use speech; they have lim­it­ed cog­ni­tive abil­i­ties and a “pover­ty of stim­u­lus,” giv­en their high­ly cir­cum­scribed envi­ron­ments. And yet, they learn the func­tion and order of sub­jects, verbs, and objects, and learn to rec­og­nize improp­er usage. Chil­dren might make rou­tine mis­takes, but they under­stand and can be under­stood from a very ear­ly age, and for the most part with­out very much dif­fi­cul­ty. How?

These are the ques­tions that con­front­ed Noam Chom­sky in the ear­ly years of his career in lin­guis­tics. His answers pro­duced a the­o­ry of Uni­ver­sal Gram­mar in the 1960s, and for decades, it has been the reign­ing the­o­ry in the field to beat, ini­ti­at­ing what is often referred to as the “Chom­skyan Era,” a phrase the man him­self dis­likes but which nonethe­less sums up the kinds of issues that have been at stake in lin­guis­tics for over fifty years.

Ques­tions about lan­guage acqui­si­tion have always been the sub­ject of intense philo­soph­i­cal spec­u­la­tion. They were fold­ed into gen­er­al the­o­ries of epis­te­mol­o­gy, like Plato’s the­o­ry of forms or John Locke’s so-called “blank slate” hypoth­e­sis. Vari­a­tions on these posi­tions sur­face in dif­fer­ent forms through­out West­ern intel­lec­tu­al his­to­ry. Descartes picks up Plato’s dual­ism, argu­ing that humans speak and ani­mals don’t because of the exis­tence of an immor­tal “ratio­nal soul.” Behav­ior­ist B.F. Skin­ner sug­gests that oper­ant con­di­tion­ing writes lan­guage onto a total­ly impres­sion­able mind. (“Give me a child,” said Skin­ner, “and I will shape him into any­thing.”)

Chom­sky “gave a twist” to this age-old debate over the exis­tence of innate ideas, as Gillian Ander­son tells us in the ani­mat­ed video above from BBC 4’s His­to­ry of Ideas series. Chomsky’s the­o­ry is biolin­guis­tic: it sit­u­ates lan­guage acqui­si­tion in the struc­tures of the brain. Not being him­self a neu­ro­bi­ol­o­gist, he talks of those the­o­ret­i­cal struc­tures, respon­si­ble for repro­duc­ing accu­rate syn­tax, as a metaphor­i­cal “lan­guage acqui­si­tion device” (LAD), a hard­wired fac­ul­ty that sep­a­rates the human brain from that of a dog or cat.

Chomsky’s the­o­ry has lit­tle to do with the con­tent of lan­guage, but rather with its struc­ture, which he says is uni­ver­sal­ly encod­ed in our neur­al archi­tec­ture. Chil­dren, he writes, “devel­op lan­guage because they’re pre-pro­grammed to do this.” Syn­tax is pri­or to and inde­pen­dent of spe­cif­ic mean­ing, a point he demon­strat­ed with the poet­ic sen­tence “Col­or­less green ideas sleep furi­ous­ly.” Every Eng­lish speak­er can rec­og­nize the sen­tence as gram­mat­i­cal, even very small chil­dren, though it refers to no real objects and would nev­er occur in con­ver­sa­tion.

Con­verse­ly, we rec­og­nize “Furi­ous­ly sleep ideas green col­or­less” as ungram­mat­i­cal, though it means no more nor less than the first sen­tence. The region­al vari­a­tions on word order only under­line his point since, in every case, chil­dren quick­ly under­stand how to use the ver­sion they’re pre­sent­ed with at rough­ly the same devel­op­men­tal age and in the same way. The exis­tence of a the­o­ret­i­cal Lan­guage Acqui­si­tion Device solves the chick­en-egg prob­lem of how chil­dren with no under­stand­ing of and only a very lim­it­ed expo­sure to lan­guage, can learn to speak just by lis­ten­ing to lan­guage.

Chomsky’s the­o­ry was rev­o­lu­tion­ary in large part because it was testable, and researchers at the professor’s long­time employ­er, MIT, recent­ly pub­lished evi­dence of a “lan­guage uni­ver­sal” they dis­cov­ered in a com­par­a­tive study of 37 lan­guages. It’s com­pelling research that just might antic­i­pate the dis­cov­ery of a phys­i­cal Lan­guage Acqui­si­tion Device, or its neu­ro­bi­o­log­i­cal equiv­a­lent, in every human brain.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Michel Gondry Ani­mate Philoso­pher, Lin­guist & Activist Noam Chom­sky

The Ideas of Noam Chom­sky: An Intro­duc­tion to His The­o­ries on Lan­guage & Knowl­edge (1977)

Noam Chom­sky Defines What It Means to Be a Tru­ly Edu­cat­ed Per­son

5 Ani­ma­tions Intro­duce the Media The­o­ry of Noam Chom­sky, Roland Barthes, Mar­shall McLuhan, Edward Said & Stu­art Hall

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Michel Foucault Offers a Clear, Compelling Introduction to His Philosophical Project (1966)

The­o­rist Michel Fou­cault first “rose to promi­nence,” notes Aeon, “as exis­ten­tial­ism fell out of favor among French intel­lec­tu­als.” His first major work, The Order of Things: An Archae­ol­o­gy of the Human Sci­ences, pro­posed a new method­ol­o­gy based on the “dis­ap­pear­ance of Man” as a meta­phys­i­cal cat­e­go­ry. The ahis­tor­i­cal assump­tions that had plagued phi­los­o­phy made us too com­fort­able, he thought, with his­tor­i­cal sys­tems that impris­oned us. “I would like to con­sid­er our own cul­ture,” he says in the 1966 inter­view with Pierre Dumayet above, “to be some­thing as for­eign to us.”

The kind of estrange­ment Fou­cault induced in his eth­nolo­gies, genealo­gies, and his­to­ries of West­ern moder­ni­ty opened a space for cri­tiques of knowl­edge itself as a “for­eign phe­nom­e­non,” he says. Mad­ness and Civ­i­liza­tion, The Birth of the Clin­ic, The Order of Thingsand Dis­ci­pline and Pun­ish exam­ine systems—the asy­lum, the med­ical pro­fes­sion, the sci­ences, and prisons—and allow us to see how ide­olo­gies are pro­duced by instru­men­tal uses of lan­guage and tech­nol­o­gy.

Fou­cault shift­ed his focus in the last peri­od of his career, after a 1975 LSD trip and sub­se­quent expe­ri­ences in Berke­ley changed his out­look. Yet he con­tin­ued, in his mon­u­men­tal, unfin­ished, mul­ti-vol­ume His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty to demon­strate how modes of philo­soph­i­cal and sci­en­tif­ic dis­course gave rise to cul­tur­al phe­nom­e­na we take for grant­ed as nat­ur­al states. Fou­cault was a crit­ic of the way the psy­chi­a­try and med­i­cine pathol­o­gized human behav­ior and cre­at­ed sys­tems of exclu­sion and cor­rec­tion. In his final work, he exam­ined the clas­si­cal his­to­ry of eth­i­cal dis­ci­pline and self-improve­ment.

We might rec­og­nize the rem­nants of this his­to­ry in our con­tem­po­rary cul­ture when he writes, in The His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty, Vol­ume 3, that “improve­ment, the per­fec­tion of the soul that one seeks in phi­los­o­phy…. Increas­ing­ly assumes a med­ical col­oration.” Fou­cault described the ways in which plea­sure and desire were high­ly cir­cum­scribed by util­i­tar­i­an sys­tems of con­trol and self-con­trol. It’s hard to say how much of this ear­ly inter­view the lat­er Fou­cault would have endorsed, but it’s yet anoth­er exam­ple of how lucid and per­cep­tive he was as a thinker, despite an unde­served rep­u­ta­tion for dif­fi­cul­ty and obscu­ri­ty.

He admits, how­ev­er, the inher­ent dif­fi­cul­ty of his project: the self-reflec­tive cri­tique of a mod­ern Euro­pean intel­lec­tu­al, through the very cat­e­gories of thought that make up the Euro­pean intel­lec­tu­al tra­di­tion. But “after all,” he says, “how can we know our­selves if not with our own knowl­edge?” The endeav­or requires a “com­plete twist­ing of our rea­son on itself.” Few thinkers have been able to make such moves with as much clar­i­ty and schol­ar­ly rig­or as Fou­cault.

via Aeon

Relat­ed Con­tent:

When Michel Fou­cault Tripped on Acid in Death Val­ley and Called It “The Great­est Expe­ri­ence of My Life” (1975)

Hear Hours of Lec­tures by Michel Fou­cault: Record­ed in Eng­lish & French Between 1961 and 1983

Michel Fou­cault: Free Lec­tures on Truth, Dis­course & The Self (UC Berke­ley, 1980–1983)

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Michel Fou­cault, “Philoso­pher of Pow­er”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Monty Python’s Best Philosophy Sketches: “The Philosophers’ Football Match,” “Philosopher’s Drinking Song” & More

From dead par­rots to The Mean­ing of Life, Mon­ty Python cov­ered a lot of ter­ri­to­ry. Edu­cat­ed at Oxford and Cam­bridge, the Pythons made a habit of weav­ing arcane intel­lec­tu­al ref­er­ences into the sil­li­est of sketch­es. A clas­sic exam­ple is “Mrs. Premise and Mrs. Con­clu­sion Vis­it Jean-Paul Sartre,” (above) from episode 27 of Mon­ty Python’s Fly­ing Cir­cus.

The sketch fea­tures writ­ing part­ners John Cleese as Mrs. Premise and Gra­ham Chap­man as Mrs. Con­clu­sion, gab­bing away in a laun­derette about how best to put down a budgie. Mrs. Premise sug­gests flush­ing it down the loo. “Ooh! No!” protests Mrs. Con­clu­sion. “You should­n’t do that. No that’s dan­ger­ous. Yes, they breed in the sew­ers, and even­tu­al­ly you get evil-smelling flocks of huge soiled bud­gies fly­ing out of peo­ple’s lava­to­ries infring­ing their per­son­al free­dom.”

From there the con­ver­sa­tion veers straight into Jean-Paul Sartre’s The Roads to Free­dom. It’s a clas­sic sketch–vintage Python–and you can read a tran­script here while watch­ing it above.

Anoth­er clas­sic is the “Philoso­pher’s Drink­ing Song,” shown above in a scene from Mon­ty Python Live at the Hol­ly­wood Bowl. The song was writ­ten and sung by Eric Idle. In the sketch, mem­bers of the phi­los­o­phy depart­ment at the “Uni­ver­si­ty of Wool­loomooloo” lead the audi­ence in singing, “Immanuel Kant was a real pis­sant who was very rarely sta­ble; Hei­deg­ger, Hei­deg­ger was a boozy beg­gar who could think you under the table…”

And one of our favorites: “The Philoso­phers’ Foot­ball Match” (above), a filmed sequence from Mon­ty Python Live at the Hol­ly­wood Bowl, pit­ting the Ancient Greeks against the Ger­mans, with Con­fu­cius as ref­er­ee. The sketch was orig­i­nal­ly broad­cast in 1972 in a two-part West Ger­man tele­vi­sion spe­cial, Mon­ty Python’s Fliegen­der Zirkus.

When you’re done laugh­ing, you can dive deep into phi­los­o­phy here with our col­lec­tion of 75 Free Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es online.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

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Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in Novem­ber 2011.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mon­ty Python’s “Argu­ment Clin­ic” Sketch Reen­act­ed by Two Vin­tage Voice Syn­the­siz­ers (One Is Stephen Hawking’s Voice)

John Cleese’s Phi­los­o­phy of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Cre­at­ing Oases for Child­like Play

John Cleese on How “Stu­pid Peo­ple Have No Idea How Stu­pid They Are” (a.k.a. the Dun­ning-Kruger Effect)

A Beautiful Short Documentary Takes You Inside New York City’s Last Great Chess Store

Chess Forum in Green­wich Vil­lage is, like Gramer­cy Type­writer and the Upper East Side’s Ten­der But­tons, the sort of shop New York­ers feel pro­tec­tive of, even if they’ve nev­er actu­al­ly crossed the thresh­old.

“How can it still exist?” is a ques­tion left unan­swered by “King of the Night,” Lone­ly Leap’s love­ly short pro­file of Chess Forum’s own­er, Imad Khachan, above, but no mat­ter. We’re just glad it does.

The store, locat­ed a block and a half south of Wash­ing­ton Square, looks old­er than it is. Khachan, hung out his shin­gle in 1995, after five years as an employ­ee of the now-defunct Vil­lage Chess Shop, a rift that riled the New York chess com­mu­ni­ty.

Now, things are much more placid, though the film incor­rect­ly sug­gests that Chess Forum is the only refuge where chess lov­ing New York­ers can avail them­selves of an impromp­tu game, take lessons, and buy sets. (There are also shops in Brook­lyn, Harlem, and the Upper East Side.) That said, Chess Forum might not be wrong to call itself “New York’s last great chess store.” It may well be the best of the last.

The nar­row shop’s inte­ri­or trig­gers nos­tal­gia with­out seem­ing cal­cu­la­tion, an organ­ic reminder of the Village’s Bohemi­an past, when beret-clad folkies, artists, and stu­dents wiled away hours at bat­tered wood­en tables in its many cheap cafes and bars. (Two blocks away, sole sur­vivor Caf­fé Reggio’s ambi­ence is intact, but the prices have kept pace with the neigh­bor­hood, and the major­i­ty of its clien­tele are clutch­ing guide­books or the dig­i­tal equiv­a­lent there­of.)

Khachan, born in Lebanon to Pales­tin­ian refugees, gives a warm wel­come to tourists and locals alike, espe­cial­ly those who might make for an uneasy fit at tonier neigh­bor­hood estab­lish­ments.

In an inter­view with the Green­wich Vil­lage Soci­ety for His­toric Preser­va­tion, he recalled a “well-dressed and high­ly edu­cat­ed doc­tor who would come in wear­ing his Har­vard logo sweater, and lose repeat­ed­ly to a home­less man who was a reg­u­lar at Chess Forum and a chess mas­ter.”

The game also pro­vides com­mon ground for strangers who share no com­mon tongue. In Jonathan Lord’s rougher New York City chess-themed doc, Pass­port Play, Khachan points out how dia­grams in chess books speak vol­umes to expe­ri­enced play­ers, regard­less of the lan­guage in which the book is writ­ten.

The store’s mot­tos also bear wit­ness to the val­ue its own­er places on face-to-face human inter­ac­tion:

Cool in the sum­mer, warm in the win­ter and fuzzy all year long.

Chess Forum: An expe­ri­ence not a trans­ac­tion

Smart peo­ple not smart phones.  (You can play a game of chess on your phone, Khachan admits, but don’t fool your­self into think­ing that it’s giv­ing you a full chess expe­ri­ence.)

An hour of play costs about the same as a small lat­te in a cof­fee­house chain (whose preva­lence Khachan refers to as the Bostoniza­tion of NYC.) Senior cit­i­zens and chil­dren, both revered groups at Chess Forum, get an even bet­ter deal—from $1/hour to free.

Although the store’s offi­cial clos­ing time is mid­night, Khachan, sin­gle and child­less, is always will­ing to oblige play­ers who would stay lat­er. His soli­tary mus­ings on the neighborhood’s wee hours trans­for­ma­tion sup­ply the film’s title and med­i­ta­tive vibe, while remind­ing us that this gen­tle New York char­ac­ter was orig­i­nal­ly drawn to the city by the specter of a PhD in lit­er­a­ture at near­by NYU.

Read­ers who would like to con­tribute to the health of this inde­pen­dent­ly owned New York City estab­lish­ment from afar can do so by pur­chas­ing a chess or backgam­mon set online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

When John Cage & Mar­cel Duchamp Played Chess on a Chess­board That Turned Chess Moves Into Elec­tron­ic Music (1968)

Chess Grand­mas­ter Gar­ry Kas­parov Relives His Four Most Mem­o­rable Games

Man Ray Designs a Supreme­ly Ele­gant, Geo­met­ric Chess Set in 1920–and It Now Gets Re-Issued

A Human Chess Match Gets Played in Leningrad, 1924

A Free 700-Page Chess Man­u­al Explains 1,000 Chess Tac­tics in Plain Eng­lish

Clay­ma­tion Film Recre­ates His­toric Chess Match Immor­tal­ized in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey

Play Chess Against the Ghost of Mar­cel Duchamp: A Free Online Chess Game

Chess Grand­mas­ter Mau­rice Ash­ley Plays Unsus­pect­ing Trash Talk­er in Wash­ing­ton Square Park

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  See her onstage in New York City through Decem­ber 20th in the 10th anniver­sary pro­duc­tion of Greg Kotis’ apoc­a­lyp­tic hol­i­day tale, The Truth About San­ta. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Hunter S. Thompson, Existentialist Life Coach, Presents Tips for Finding Meaning in Life

hst

Image by Steve Ander­son, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

At first blush, Hunter S. Thomp­son might be the last per­son you would want to ask for advice. After all, his dai­ly rou­tine involved copi­ous amounts of cocaine, LSD and Chivas Regal. He once raked a neighbor’s house with gun­fire. And he once almost acci­den­tal­ly blew up John­ny Depp. Yet beneath his gonzo per­sona lay a man who thought deeply and often about the mean­ing of it all. He was some­one who spent a life­time star­ing into the abyss.

So in 1958, before he became a counter-cul­ture icon, before he even start­ed writ­ing pro­fes­sion­al­ly, Thomp­son wrote a long let­ter about some of the big ques­tions in life to his friend, Hume Logan, who was in the throes of an exis­ten­tial cri­sis.

While the first cou­ple of para­graphs warns against the dan­gers of seek­ing advice, Hunter then expounds at length on some deep, and sur­pris­ing­ly lev­el-head­ed truths. Below are a few pearls of wis­dom:

  • Whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal. It is a choice we must all make con­scious­ly or uncon­scious­ly at one time in our lives. So few peo­ple under­stand this!
  • You might also try some­thing called Being and Noth­ing­ness by Jean-Paul Sartre, and anoth­er lit­tle thing called Exis­ten­tial­ism: From Dos­toyevsky to Sartre. These are mere­ly sug­ges­tions. If you’re gen­uine­ly sat­is­fied with what you are and what you’re doing, then give those books a wide berth. (Let sleep­ing dogs lie.)
  • To put our faith in tan­gi­ble goals would seem to be, at best, unwise. We do not strive to be fire­men, we do not strive to be bankers, nor police­men, nor doc­tors. WE STRIVE TO BE OURSELVES.
  • Let’s assume that you think you have a choice of eight paths to fol­low (all pre-defined paths, of course). And let’s assume that you can’t see any real pur­pose in any of the eight. THEN— and here is the essence of all I’ve said— you MUST FIND A NINTH PATH.
  • Is it worth giv­ing up what I have to look for some­thing bet­ter? I don’t know— is it? Who can make that deci­sion but you? But even by DECIDING TO LOOK, you go a long way toward mak­ing the choice.

The let­ter was pub­lished in the 2013 book, Let­ters of Note. You can read it in its entire­ty below.

April 22, 1958
57 Per­ry Street
New York City

Dear Hume,

You ask advice: ah, what a very human and very dan­ger­ous thing to do! For to give advice to a man who asks what to do with his life implies some­thing very close to ego­ma­nia. To pre­sume to point a man to the right and ulti­mate goal— to point with a trem­bling fin­ger in the RIGHT direc­tion is some­thing only a fool would take upon him­self.

I am not a fool, but I respect your sin­cer­i­ty in ask­ing my advice. I ask you though, in lis­ten­ing to what I say, to remem­ber that all advice can only be a prod­uct of the man who gives it. What is truth to one may be dis­as­ter to anoth­er. I do not see life through your eyes, nor you through mine. If I were to attempt to give you spe­cif­ic advice, it would be too much like the blind lead­ing the blind.

“To be, or not to be: that is the ques­tion: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suf­fer the slings and arrows of out­ra­geous for­tune, or to take arms against a sea of trou­bles … ” (Shake­speare)

And indeed, that IS the ques­tion: whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal. It is a choice we must all make con­scious­ly or uncon­scious­ly at one time in our lives. So few peo­ple under­stand this! Think of any deci­sion you’ve ever made which had a bear­ing on your future: I may be wrong, but I don’t see how it could have been any­thing but a choice how­ev­er indi­rect— between the two things I’ve men­tioned: the float­ing or the swim­ming.

But why not float if you have no goal? That is anoth­er ques­tion. It is unques­tion­ably bet­ter to enjoy the float­ing than to swim in uncer­tain­ty. So how does a man find a goal? Not a cas­tle in the stars, but a real and tan­gi­ble thing. How can a man be sure he’s not after the “big rock can­dy moun­tain,” the entic­ing sug­ar-can­dy goal that has lit­tle taste and no sub­stance?

The answer— and, in a sense, the tragedy of life— is that we seek to under­stand the goal and not the man. We set up a goal which demands of us cer­tain things: and we do these things. We adjust to the demands of a con­cept which CANNOT be valid. When you were young, let us say that you want­ed to be a fire­man. I feel rea­son­ably safe in say­ing that you no longer want to be a fire­man. Why? Because your per­spec­tive has changed. It’s not the fire­man who has changed, but you. Every man is the sum total of his reac­tions to expe­ri­ence. As your expe­ri­ences dif­fer and mul­ti­ply, you become a dif­fer­ent man, and hence your per­spec­tive changes. This goes on and on. Every reac­tion is a learn­ing process; every sig­nif­i­cant expe­ri­ence alters your per­spec­tive.

So it would seem fool­ish, would it not, to adjust our lives to the demands of a goal we see from a dif­fer­ent angle every day? How could we ever hope to accom­plish any­thing oth­er than gal­lop­ing neu­ro­sis?

The answer, then, must not deal with goals at all, or not with tan­gi­ble goals, any­way. It would take reams of paper to devel­op this sub­ject to ful­fill­ment. God only knows how many books have been writ­ten on “the mean­ing of man” and that sort of thing, and god only knows how many peo­ple have pon­dered the sub­ject. (I use the term “god only knows” pure­ly as an expres­sion.) There’s very lit­tle sense in my try­ing to give it up to you in the prover­bial nut­shell, because I’m the first to admit my absolute lack of qual­i­fi­ca­tions for reduc­ing the mean­ing of life to one or two para­graphs.

I’m going to steer clear of the word “exis­ten­tial­ism,” but you might keep it in mind as a key of sorts. You might also try some­thing called Being and Noth­ing­ness by Jean-Paul Sartre, and anoth­er lit­tle thing called Exis­ten­tial­ism: From Dos­toyevsky to Sartre. These are mere­ly sug­ges­tions. If you’re gen­uine­ly sat­is­fied with what you are and what you’re doing, then give those books a wide berth. (Let sleep­ing dogs lie.) But back to the answer. As I said, to put our faith in tan­gi­ble goals would seem to be, at best, unwise. So we do not strive to be fire­men, we do not strive to be bankers, nor police­men, nor doc­tors. WE STRIVE TO BE OURSELVES.

But don’t mis­un­der­stand me. I don’t mean that we can’t BE fire­men, bankers, or doc­tors— but that we must make the goal con­form to the indi­vid­ual, rather than make the indi­vid­ual con­form to the goal. In every man, hered­i­ty and envi­ron­ment have com­bined to pro­duce a crea­ture of cer­tain abil­i­ties and desires— includ­ing a deeply ingrained need to func­tion in such a way that his life will be MEANINGFUL. A man has to BE some­thing; he has to mat­ter.

As I see it then, the for­mu­la runs some­thing like this: a man must choose a path which will let his ABILITIES func­tion at max­i­mum effi­cien­cy toward the grat­i­fi­ca­tion of his DESIRES. In doing this, he is ful­fill­ing a need (giv­ing him­self iden­ti­ty by func­tion­ing in a set pat­tern toward a set goal), he avoids frus­trat­ing his poten­tial (choos­ing a path which puts no lim­it on his self-devel­op­ment), and he avoids the ter­ror of see­ing his goal wilt or lose its charm as he draws clos­er to it (rather than bend­ing him­self to meet the demands of that which he seeks, he has bent his goal to con­form to his own abil­i­ties and desires).

In short, he has not ded­i­cat­ed his life to reach­ing a pre-defined goal, but he has rather cho­sen a way of life he KNOWS he will enjoy. The goal is absolute­ly sec­ondary: it is the func­tion­ing toward the goal which is impor­tant. And it seems almost ridicu­lous to say that a man MUST func­tion in a pat­tern of his own choos­ing; for to let anoth­er man define your own goals is to give up one of the most mean­ing­ful aspects of life— the defin­i­tive act of will which makes a man an indi­vid­ual.

Let’s assume that you think you have a choice of eight paths to fol­low (all pre-defined paths, of course). And let’s assume that you can’t see any real pur­pose in any of the eight. THEN— and here is the essence of all I’ve said— you MUST FIND A NINTH PATH.

Nat­u­ral­ly, it isn’t as easy as it sounds. You’ve lived a rel­a­tive­ly nar­row life, a ver­ti­cal rather than a hor­i­zon­tal exis­tence. So it isn’t any too dif­fi­cult to under­stand why you seem to feel the way you do. But a man who pro­cras­ti­nates in his CHOOSING will inevitably have his choice made for him by cir­cum­stance.

So if you now num­ber your­self among the dis­en­chant­ed, then you have no choice but to accept things as they are, or to seri­ous­ly seek some­thing else. But beware of look­ing for goals: look for a way of life. Decide how you want to live and then see what you can do to make a liv­ing WITHIN that way of life. But you say, “I don’t know where to look; I don’t know what to look for.”

And there’s the crux. Is it worth giv­ing up what I have to look for some­thing bet­ter? I don’t know— is it? Who can make that deci­sion but you? But even by DECIDING TO LOOK, you go a long way toward mak­ing the choice.

If I don’t call this to a halt, I’m going to find myself writ­ing a book. I hope it’s not as con­fus­ing as it looks at first glance. Keep in mind, of course, that this is MY WAY of look­ing at things. I hap­pen to think that it’s pret­ty gen­er­al­ly applic­a­ble, but you may not. Each of us has to cre­ate our own cre­do— this mere­ly hap­pens to be mine.

If any part of it doesn’t seem to make sense, by all means call it to my atten­tion. I’m not try­ing to send you out “on the road” in search of Val­hal­la, but mere­ly point­ing out that it is not nec­es­sary to accept the choic­es hand­ed down to you by life as you know it. There is more to it than that— no one HAS to do some­thing he doesn’t want to do for the rest of his life. But then again, if that’s what you wind up doing, by all means con­vince your­self that you HAD to do it. You’ll have lots of com­pa­ny.

And that’s it for now. Until I hear from you again, I remain,

your friend,
Hunter

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in Feb­ru­ary 2015.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read 10 Free Arti­cles by Hunter S. Thomp­son That Span His Gonzo Jour­nal­ist Career (1965–2005)

Hunter S. Thompson’s Deca­dent Dai­ly Break­fast: The “Psy­chic Anchor” of His Fre­net­ic Cre­ative Life

How Hunter S. Thomp­son Gave Birth to Gonzo Jour­nal­ism: Short Film Revis­its Thompson’s Sem­i­nal 1970 Piece on the Ken­tucky Der­by

Hunter S. Thomp­son Chill­ing­ly Pre­dicts the Future, Telling Studs Terkel About the Com­ing Revenge of the Eco­nom­i­cal­ly & Tech­no­log­i­cal­ly “Obso­lete” (1967)

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing lots of pic­tures of bad­gers and even more pic­tures of vice pres­i­dents with octo­pus­es on their heads.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

Alan Watts Dispenses Wit & Wisdom on the Meaning of Life in Three Animated Videos

Since his death in 1973, the pop­u­lar British philoso­pher, writer, speak­er, and one­time-Epis­co­pal-priest-turned-stu­dent-of-Zen-and-wild­ly-eclec­tic-coun­ter­cul­tur­al-spir­i­tu­al-thinker Alan Watts has become a cot­tage indus­try of sorts. And if you were unfa­mil­iar with his work, you might think—given this descrip­tion and the men­tion of the word “industry”—that Watts found­ed some sort of self-help sem­i­nar series, the kind in which peo­ple make a con­sid­er­able invest­ment of time and mon­ey.

In a sense, he did: the Alan Watts Orga­ni­za­tion (pre­vi­ous­ly known as the Alan Watts Elec­tron­ic Uni­ver­si­ty, the Alan Watts Cen­ter, or the Alan Watts Project) main­tains Watts’ pro­lif­ic audio and video archives. Found­ed in the last year of his life by Watts and his son Mark, the Orga­ni­za­tion charges for access to most of his work. The col­lec­tions are pricey. Albums of talks on such sub­jects as Bud­dhism and Com­par­a­tive Phi­los­o­phy and Reli­gion are exten­sive, but come at a cost.

Though the orga­ni­za­tion offers free con­tent, you could find your­self spend­ing sev­er­al hun­dred dol­lars to hear the col­lect­ed Watts lec­tures. It’s mon­ey the Mark Watts sug­gests cov­ers the “sub­stan­tial under­tak­ing” of dig­i­tiz­ing hun­dreds of hours of record­ings on lac­quered disks and mag­net­ic reels. These are noble and nec­es­sary efforts, but fans of Watts will know that hun­dreds of selec­tions from his deeply engag­ing talks are also freely avail­able on YouTube, many of them with nifty ani­ma­tions and musi­cal accom­pa­ni­ment, like the videos here from After Skool.

Watts would like­ly have been pleased with this situation—he loved to give out wis­dom wide­ly and kept no eso­teric trade secrets. But he was also, by his own admis­sion, “a spiritual/philosophical enter­tain­er,” who made a liv­ing telling peo­ple some of the most unset­tling, coun­ter­in­tu­itive meta­phys­i­cal truths there are. He did it with humor, eru­di­tion and com­pas­sion, with intel­lec­tu­al clar­i­ty and rhetor­i­cal aplomb.

So what did he have to tell us? That we should join the church of Alan Watts? Attend his next lec­ture and buy his book? Shape our lives into an emu­la­tion of Alan Watts? Though he wore the trap­pings of a West­ern expos­i­tor of East­ern thought, and embraced all kinds of non-tra­di­tion­al beliefs and prac­tices, Watts was too iron­i­cal and detached to be a guru. He couldn’t take him­self seri­ous­ly enough for that.

If there’s any one thread that runs through the incred­i­bly broad range of sub­jects he cov­ered, it’s that we should nev­er take our­selves too seri­ous­ly either. We buy into sto­ries and ideas and think of them as con­crete enti­ties that form the bound­aries of iden­ti­ty and exis­tence: sto­ries like think­ing of life as a “jour­ney” on the way to some spe­cif­ic denoue­ment. Not so, as Watts says in the ani­mat­ed video at the top. Life is an art, a form of play: “the whole point of the danc­ing is the dance.”

But what about the mean­ing of life? Is Alan Watts going to reveal it in the last course of his ten-week ses­sion (payable in install­ments)? Will we dis­cov­er it in a series of self-improve­ment pack­ages? No. The mean­ing of life he says, is life. “The sit­u­a­tion of life is opti­mal.” But how is any­one sup­posed to judge what’s good with­out unchang­ing exter­nal stan­dards? A clas­sic Zen sto­ry about a Chi­nese farmer offers a con­cise illus­tra­tion of why we may have no need—and no real ability—to make any judg­ments at all.

You’ll find many more free excerpts of Watts’ lectures—of vary­ing lengths and with or with­out ani­ma­tions, on YouTube. To get a fur­ther taste of his spir­i­tu­al and philo­soph­i­cal dis­til­la­tions, see the links below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Wis­dom of Alan Watts in Four Thought-Pro­vok­ing Ani­ma­tions

Zen Mas­ter Alan Watts Explains What Made Carl Jung Such an Influ­en­tial Thinker

Take a Break from Your Fran­tic Day & Let Alan Watts Intro­duce You to the Calm­ing Ways of Zen

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Journal of Controversial Ideas, Co-Founded by Philosopher Peter Singer, Will Publish & Defend Pseudonymous Articles, Regardless of the Backlash

Pho­to of Peter Singer by Mat Vick­ers, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Aus­tralian bioethi­cist Peter Singer has made head­lines as few philoso­phers do with claims about the moral sta­tus of ani­mals and the “Singer solu­tion to world pover­ty,” and with far more con­tro­ver­sial posi­tions on abor­tion and dis­abil­i­ty. Many of his claims have placed him out­side the pale for stu­dents at Prince­ton, his cur­rent employ­er, where he has faced protests and calls for his ter­mi­na­tion. “I favor the abil­i­ty to put new ideas out there for dis­cus­sion,” he has said in response to what he views as a hos­tile aca­d­e­m­ic cli­mate, “and I see an atmos­phere in which some peo­ple may be inti­mat­ed from doing that.”

For those who, like him, make con­tro­ver­sial argu­ments such as those for euth­a­niz­ing “defec­tive infants,” for exam­ple, as he wrote about in his 1979 Prac­ti­cal Ethics, Singer has decid­ed to launch a new venue, The Jour­nal of Con­tro­ver­sial Ideas. As The Chron­i­cle of High­er Edu­ca­tion reports, the jour­nal aims to be “an annu­al, peer-reviewed, open-access pub­li­ca­tion that will print wor­thy papers, and stand behind them, regard­less of the back­lash.” The idea, says Singer, “is to estab­lish a jour­nal where it’s clear from the name and object that con­tro­ver­sial ideas are wel­come.”

Is it true that “con­tro­ver­sial ideas” have been denied a hear­ing else­where in acad­e­mia? The wide­ly-cov­ered tac­tics of “no-plat­form­ing” prac­ticed by some cam­pus activists have cre­at­ed the impres­sion that cen­sor­ship or illib­er­al­ism in col­leges and uni­ver­si­ties has become an epi­dem­ic prob­lem. No so, argues Princeton’s Eddie Glaude, Jr., who points out that fig­ures who have been dis­in­vit­ed to speak at cer­tain insti­tu­tions have been wel­comed on dozens of oth­er cam­pus­es “with­out it becom­ing a nation­al spec­ta­cle.” Sen­sa­tion­al­ized cam­pus protests are “not the norm,” as many would have us believe, he writes.

But the ques­tion Singer and his co-founders pose isn’t whether con­tro­ver­sial ideas get aired in debates or lec­ture forums, but whether schol­ars have been cen­sored, or have cen­sored them­selves, in the spe­cial­ized forums of their fields, the aca­d­e­m­ic jour­nals. Singer’s co-founder/ed­i­tor Jeff McMa­han, pro­fes­sor of moral phi­los­o­phy at Oxford, believes so, as he told the BBC in a Radio 4 doc­u­men­tary called “Uni­ver­si­ty Unchal­lenged.” The new jour­nal, said McMa­han, “would enable peo­ple whose ideas might get them in trou­ble either with the left or with the right or with their own uni­ver­si­ty admin­is­tra­tion, to pub­lish under a pseu­do­nym.”

Those who feel cer­tain posi­tions might put their career in jeop­ardy will have cov­er, but McMa­han declares that “the screen­ing pro­ce­dure” for pub­li­ca­tion “will be as rig­or­ous as those for oth­er aca­d­e­m­ic jour­nals. The lev­el of qual­i­ty will be main­tained.” Some skep­ti­cism may be war­rant­ed giv­en the journal’s intent to pub­lish work from every dis­ci­pline. The edi­tors of spe­cial­ist jour­nals bring net­works of review­ers and spe­cial­ized knowl­edge them­selves to the usu­al vet­ting process. In this case, the core found­ing team are all philoso­phers: Singer, McMa­han, and Francesca Min­er­va, post­doc­tor­al fel­low at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Ghent.

One might rea­son­ably ask how that process can be “as rig­or­ous” on this whole­sale scale. Though the BBC reports that there will be an “intel­lec­tu­al­ly diverse inter­na­tion­al edi­to­r­i­al board,” board mem­bers are rarely very involved in the edi­to­r­i­al oper­a­tions of an aca­d­e­m­ic jour­nal. Justin Wein­berg at Dai­ly Nous has some oth­er ques­tions, includ­ing whether the degree, or exis­tence, of aca­d­e­m­ic cen­sor­ship even war­rants the journal’s cre­ation. “No evi­dence was cit­ed,” he writes “to sup­port the claim that ‘a cul­ture of fear and self-cen­sor­ship’ is pre­vent­ing arti­cles that would pass a review process” from see­ing pub­li­ca­tion.

Fur­ther­more, Wein­berg says, the journal’s puta­tive founders have giv­en no argu­ment “to allay what seems to be a rea­son­able con­cern that the cre­ation of such a jour­nal will fos­ter more of a ‘cul­ture of fear and self-cen­sor­ship’ com­pared to oth­er options, or that it plays into and rein­forces exper­tise-under­min­ing mis­con­cep­tions about acad­e­mia bandied about in pop­u­lar media that may have neg­a­tive effects…. Giv­en that the found­ing team is com­prised of peo­ple not­ed for views that empha­size empir­i­cal facts and con­se­quences, one might rea­son­ably hope for a pub­lic dis­cus­sion of such evi­dence and argu­ments.”

Should schol­ars pub­lish pseu­do­ny­mous­ly in peer-reviewed jour­nals? Shouldn’t they be will­ing to defend their ideas on the mer­its with­out hid­ing their iden­ti­ty? Is such sub­terfuge real­ly nec­es­sary? “Right now,” McMa­han asserts, “in cur­rent con­di­tions some­thing like this is need­ed…. I think all of us will be very hap­py if, and when, the need for such a jour­nal dis­ap­pears, and the soon­er the bet­ter.” Giv­en that the journal’s co-founders paint such a broad­ly dire pic­ture of the state of acad­e­mia, it’s rea­son­able to ask for more than anec­do­tal evi­dence of their claims. A few high-pro­file inci­dents do not prove a wide­spread cul­ture of repres­sion.

It is also “fair to won­der,” writes Annabelle Tim­sit at Quartz, “whether the board of a jour­nal ded­i­cat­ed to free speech might have a bias toward pub­lish­ing par­tic­u­lar­ly con­tro­ver­sial ideas in the inter­est of free­dom of thought” over the inter­ests of good schol­ar­ship and sound eth­i­cal prac­tice.

via Dai­ly Nous

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A New Aca­d­e­m­ic Hoax–Complete with Fake Arti­cles Pub­lished in Aca­d­e­m­ic Journals–Ventures to Show the “Cor­rup­tion” of Cul­tur­al Stud­ies

What Are the Most Influ­en­tial Books Writ­ten by Schol­ars in the Last 20 Years?: Lead­ing Aca­d­e­mics Pick “The New Canon”

The 20 Most Influ­en­tial Aca­d­e­m­ic Books of All Time: No Spoil­ers

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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