Another strategy is adopted by Richard Kraut, who identifies living well with “flourishing.” He uses that term to characterize a human being “who possesses, develops, and enjoys the exercise of cognitive, affective, sensory, and social powers (no less than physical powers).” Those who flourish develop “properly and fully” the “potentialities, capacities, and faculties that (under favorable conditions) they naturally have at an early stage of their existence.”
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This approach, however, raises a series of problems. First, not all our potentials can be actualized in a single lifetime. An individual who might have the talents to succeed as an organist, football player, surgeon, stockbroker, or engineer does not have the time to fulfill all these goals at a high level. Choices need be made, and in every case some possibilities will remain unfulfilled.
Furthermore, how do we know at an early stage of a person’s existence which abilities that individual may develop later in life? Consider Anna Mary Moses (1860–1961), who was a farmer’s wife in Virginia and New York and did embroidery of country scenes. At the age of seventy-five she began to paint, achieving worldwide fame as “Grandma Moses.” She was not born to be a painter or a farmer’s wife. She had a range of abilities and opportunities, and over time made her choices.
No appeal to what is natural will demonstrate what ought to be. As Sidney Hook writes, “What man should be is undoubtedly related to what he is, for no man should be what he cannot be. Yet a proposition about what he is no more uniquely entails what he should be than the recognition of the nature of an egg necessitates our concluding that the egg should become a chicken rather than an egg sandwich.”
2Furthermore, not all our abilities are worthy. As Kraut himself puts it, “some natural powers are bad for the person who has them.” Skills as a liar, cheater, and hypocrite are presumably among those Kraut believes should be “extirpated.”
3Which abilities, then, should we develop? Kraut answers that we should develop those that lead to flourishing. But which ones lead to flourishing? Those that are good. And which are good? Those that lead to flourishing. This circularity doesn’t help us choose from among the options we face.
To illustrate the problem, consider the real-life case of Phil Saltman, a jazz pianist in the 1930s and 1940s, whose extraordinary talents could have propelled him to international renown.
4 After appearing as soloist with the Boston Pops Orchestra, however, he decided that life as a touring musician was not to his liking. He chose instead to open a summer camp for boys and girls who enjoyed playing music, even if they did not plan to pursue the activity professionally. The camp succeeded,
5 and he never doubted his choice to give up the opportunity for a distinguished solo career in order to guide youngsters and play music with them in amateur combos.
Did he make a mistake? Did he limit his chances for a successful life? Did he waste his significant talents?
Kraut would have answered that he should have chosen to flourish. But would he have flourished more by pursuing a concert career or by becoming a camp director? Some of his friends thought he had made a serious mistake; others agreed with his choice. No appeal to the concept of flourishing, however, would have helped settle the matter.
Perhaps more insight can be found in the specific examples Kraut offers. Let us, therefore, consider the activities he cites with strong approval, as well as those about which he shows much less enthusiasm.
Among those he favors are walking, dancing, traveling, playing tennis, swimming, attending the opera, writing poetry, reading novels, basking in the warmth of the sun, cooking, doing crossword puzzles, playing chess, running an organization, philosophizing, and enjoying our sexual powers.
6 Ones he finds of lesser value include bowling, playing checkers, watching inane television programs, accumulating wealth, achieving fame, holding socially isolating jobs, and remaining single.
7As with Susan Wolf’s account of meaningful and meaningless activities, Kraut’s lists raise more questions than they answer. Why is tennis better than bowling? How do both compare to badminton, archery, or quoits? Why is chess better than checkers? Perhaps Kraut would find checkers more challenging if he had lost game after game to a checkers champion. Which game’s value is more akin to that of Scrabble? What’s the matter with socially isolating jobs? Serving as a lighthouse keeper, exploring a rainforest, writing fiction in a remote cabin, or doing research in a library cubicle are surely worthy activities.
Why does Kraut, as did Wolf, denigrate fame and wealth? We doubt either of them would reject a professorial position on the grounds that the institution offering it provides too much status or an excessively high salary.
Why does the study of philosophy invariably appear on philosophers’ lists of worthwhile activities? Indeed, the study of such subjects as sociology, geology, Asian religions, ceramics, and finance are rarely cited with enthusiasm.
Kraut contrasts checkers and literature, finding little value in the former but much in the latter. If a person delights in playing board games, however, and does not particularly enjoy reading the novels of Henry James or Thomas Hardy, should we conclude, as Kraut does, that the individual “is handicapped by a cognitive or linguistic disability”?
8 Should we also say that anyone not fond of lieder is handicapped by a musical disability?
Why is Kraut against the single life? He suggests that a person might wish to marry because of thinking that “the complex affective and interactive skills needed by a good marriage partner are ones that he will enjoy acquiring and exercising.” (Perhaps such words would not be the most inspiring to recite at a wedding.) Could the single life also have advantages? Kraut doesn’t suggest any. However, he strongly supports sexual activity, maintaining that “The extinction of sexual desire, in favorable circumstances—that is, when there are attractive and likable people to whom one can give and from whom one can receive sexual pleasure—would be a great loss.”
9 The dubious implication is that chastity, whether for moral, religious, or personal reasons, is not conducive to flourishing.
Do all Kraut’s examples help decide whether Pat or Lee is living a more worthwhile life? Kraut, not surprisingly, expresses much enthusiasm for what he terms “the thrilling
process of acquiring a body of knowledge about a subject that fascinates us.”
10 Thus we can assume he would judge that Pat the philosopher is flourishing, especially because Pat is married, plays the cello, and enjoys strolling the beaches of Cape Cod.
Perhaps surprisingly, however, many of Kraut’s criteria for flourishing also fit Lee’s life. Lee enjoys swimming and the warmth of the sun. Lee’s physical powers have been developed by surfing and golfing, while Lee’s cognitive and sensory powers have been increased by travel. Moreover, Lee’s social powers have been enhanced through many friendships, and Lee’s affective powers are developed from numerous romances. As to “enjoyment of sexual powers,” Lee’s accomplishments in this area likely have exceeded those of Pat.
How, then, are we to weigh Lee’s advantages against Pat’s devotion to teaching, research, family, and hobbies? Assuming Lee sometimes reads literature and does not spend much time playing checkers, Lee, like Pat, would meet Kraut’s criteria for flourishing. Thus we have made no progress in deciding which of the two, if either, is closer to living well.
