Do our current lifestyles violate the Socratic notion of Good?
If happiness is a goal, and if that happiness extends beyond the mere alleviation of suffering, how to we evaluate happiness? If our own happiness comes at the expense of another, how do we justify our gain? Equally important, but rarely considered, is the converse question: If our suffering brings happiness to another, how do we justify the personal pain? Is our own suffering less important than that of another?
How do we minimize suffering? Is such a quest restricted to humans, or are other organisms included? What is the temporal frame of the quest? Does it extend beyond the moment, perhaps to months or years? Does it extend beyond the personal to include other individuals?
We could minimize suffering to humans and other animals by playing solitaire in the woods. But even that seemingly humble act takes life. Tacking on the seemingly simple acquisition of water, food, clothing, and shelter for a single human being in the industrialized world brings horrific suffering to humans and other animals. Attending to the needs of the 7.1 billion humans currently inhabiting Earth comes at tremendous cost to the water, soils, and non-human species on the planet. Contemplating the desires of an increasing number of people on an overpopulated globe is enough to drive a thinking person to despair.
There is nothing inherently wrong with pleasure, yet the Greek word for “pleasure” forms the root of the English word “hedonism.” According to my pals Merriam and Webster, hedonism propounds that pleasure or happiness is the sole or chief good in life. When stated in this manner, pleasure seems to have taken a step too far. But drawing the line between personal pleasure and hedonism is no mean feat. Less often considered is the line we draw between personal suffering and the attendant happiness of others.
But, lest we take that step too far, we should remember that the idea of hedonism some 2,500 years ago when Socrates was haunting the Mediterranean region was a bit different than the idea today. Back then, humans comprised a tiny drop in the large bucket known as Earth. The quest for personal pleasure and happiness at that time would have essentially zero impact on the natural world relative to the impact of today’s quest for gratification by 7.1 billion people on this ever-shrinking and depleted orb.
When my happiness requires the suffering of another, is my happiness warranted? When the pleasure of another requires my suffering, is the suffering warranted? Does failing to contemplate questions about our needs and desires commit us to nihilism? Does living within the Age of Industry, hence participating in untold horrors to humans and other organisms, violate the Socratic notion of good?
See Also:
–Questioning Culture: Shades of Existential Gray
–Questioning Culture: The Long Littleness of Life
–Questioning Culture: A Series
–Photo: roonster/Flickr
First, I doubt that the creation of 7.1 billion people is the result of seeking “pleasure”, but more of feeding an archaic machine that once required cheap human labor. Until recently in history (and still in much of the world), children are human capital to perform labor and support older generations. Since the discovery of agriculture, humans have broken the cycles of nature and siphoned off natural resources to develop unnatural societies fueled by depleting resources. Pleasure is a sensual experience, a byproduct of simple existence. Humans have no monopoly on pleasure. All animals have the capacity to feel pleasure… Read more »
Thank you for including the suffering of animals in this moral query!
Makes me think of the Native American wisdom of Seventh Generation thinking.
Almost as if they knew all about potential suffering already and thought ahead to avert it.
What were white men thinking when they pretty much obliterated a society that had balance and harmony in nature? Instant gratification, aka greed.
I keep hoping we humans realize there is a difference between the search for happiness
and the sociopathogical & mental illness of greed.
I don’t have high hopes.