Some philosophers have argued that Fred could not be happy because friendships are necessary for happi ness, and Fred has no interest in friends. Christopher W. Gowans, for instance, imagines Fred “sitting alone watching himself praised on his wide-screen television.” Does he not feel “lonely”?
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To begin with, the assumption that having friends is essential for happiness is implausible. Some people prefer solitude. They would rather eat alone than with others. They like to travel by themselves, not in a group. They work solo rather than collaboratively. Granted, friends can provide support, but they also can be a source of unwanted obligations. Hence while most of us seek friends and are unhappy without them, a few people reject any overture to intense involvements. They prefer privacy to intimacy.
Fred, however, isn’t a lone wolf. He’s friendly with innumerable people, doing favors for many and receiving favors in return. He is expert at socializing, for how else could he win support, make successful deals, and earn widespread praise for his supposed integrity?
Does he care about others? No. Do others realize his lack of concern? No. Remember, he’s a phony but a successful one.
Do we correctly assess the character of all those with whom we interact? Surely not. Here is one reason, for example, why national searches for academic administrators often produce disappointing results. A candidate who appears confident and genial may turn out in office to be evasive or irresponsible. Another whose crusty manner or candid opinions make a poor first impression may nevertheless be given the opportunity to serve in an administrative position and become widely admired for trustworthiness and conscientiousness. The lesson is that cordiality doesn’t guarantee honesty.
Fred’s true character is unknown to the public as well as to some, although not all, who work with him. If asked, many would say Fred had numerous friends, including themselves. After all, such is his act, and he performs it with panache.
We may think we know people well, yet be surprised by their decisions. To illustrate with a realistic case, suppose as a professor you write letters of recommendation for two of your outstanding graduate students, Joan and Kate, who are seeking faculty positions. You praise both for the high quality of their scholarship, their skill in teaching, their fine characters, and their amiable personalities. Later you learn that Kate obtained an attractive academic position but Joan found none and reluctantly left academia. You wonder about this outcome, but lacking an explanation, attribute it to luck.
The situation, however, involves choice, not merely chance. Joan, in fact, was interviewed at a first-rate school and during her visit was told by the dean that the job was hers. The dean, however, had one condition: Joan was expected to teach a particular course each year in which numerous varsity athletes would enroll, and she would be required to award them all passing grades, even if their work was in every respect unsatisfactory. Only the dean would know of this special arrangement.
Joan rejected the position on moral grounds and continued trying to obtain a suitable opportunity in academic life. Never again, however, was she offered a faculty position, and she was forced to pursue a career path that gave her little satisfaction. Her potential as a teacher went unfulfilled, and her planned research was left undone. Throughout her life she remained embittered.
Kate was invited for an interview at the school Joan had turned down, and the dean made her the identical offer made to Joan. After weighing the options, Kate accepted the appointment, even though she recognized that doing so would require her to act unethically.
Kate went on to a highly successful academic career, became a popular teacher and renowned researcher, moved to one of the nation’s most prestigious universities, and enjoyed all the perquisites attendant to her membership on that school’s renowned faculty. Occasionally she recalled the conditions of her initial appointment but viewed the actions she had taken as an unfortunate but necessary step on her path to a wonderful life.
How Joan and Kate would each handle the dean’s offer was hard to predict, for a person’s character is not always manifest. Clearly, however, the case illustrates again that happiness and morality do not necessarily go together. As Bernard Gert concludes, “a person does not need to be moral in order to be happy or to live a fulfilling life.”
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