While Epicurus believes that happiness is found in pleasure, his understanding of pleasure is atypical, for he associates the pleasant life with tranquility achieved through limiting desires and avoiding fears. The outlook of Epicurus should not conjure up images of carousers at an endless banquet, consuming copious amounts of food and spirits. Rather, his understanding of hedonism calls for restraint, resulting in freedom from all suffering, whether mental or physical. To reiterate, not all pleasures should be pursued nor all pains avoided, for some pleasures lead to much pain while some pains lead to much pleasure. As he says, “sometimes we pass over many pleasures, when greater discomfort accrues to us as the result of them: and similarly we think many pains better than pleasures, since a greater pleasure comes to us when we have endured pains for a long time.”
1
Central to the outlook of Epicurus is recognizing the interdependence of pleasures and pains. To put the point generally, our choices have consequences, both advantageous and disadvantageous, and in deciding what course to follow we need to consider as many of them as possible. Do some choices have only good consequences and others only bad ones? Thinking so is a mistake, a failure to recognize a critical aspect of the human condition.
This lesson was highlighted many years ago for one of this book’s coauthors, Steven M. Cahn, when he and his wife sought to buy a house. They asked acquaintances to recommend a real estate agent, and one name, Jeff Bell, was mentioned repeatedly. Therefore they called him to ask if he would assist them. As they later discovered, he usually dealt with houses in a much higher price range than they could afford, but, as a favor to mutual friends, he agreed to help.
Soon the Cahns understood why he was so highly regarded. He never pretended that any property, no matter how attractive, was without drawbacks. In case these were being overlooked, he would patiently enumerate them, so that his clients, even if enamored with a place, would fully understand its disadvantages. Nor would he dismiss any property, no matter how unappealing, without calling attention to its advantages. In every case, he would conclude his assessment with words that the Cahns came to consider his motto: “It’s a trade-off.” Eventually his skill in negotiation led to their acquiring at a reasonable price a home that met their needs. Was it a trade-off? Of course, yet the plusses outweighed the minuses.
As the Cahns once told Jeff, his words pointed to an important truth that transcended real estate: every choice in life is a trade-off. They promised him that someday his saying would appear in print. Sadly, he is no longer alive, but his insight deserves to be heeded.
Wherever you reside, your location has certain advantages and disadvantages. It’s a trade-off. Wherever you go to school, that institution offers certain advantages and disadvantages. It’s a trade-off. Whatever your career choice, it has certain advantages and disadvantages. Again, it’s a trade-off.
Once you grasp this essential feature of life, you stop seeking options that have positive consequences but no negative ones. The question to ask in any situation is: what are the negative consequences of the choice I find most attractive? If you can’t accept those consequences, then you need to make a different choice. If you are unable to think of any negative consequences, you haven’t pondered the matter deeply enough. As Epicurus writes, “Every desire must be confronted with this question: what will happen to me, if the object of my desire is accomplished and what if it is not?”
2 Whether to act on any particular desire depends on the answer to that question.
Attaining challenging goals will require that you undertake work you would prefer to avoid. In whatever activity you seek to excel, whether athletics, business, scholarship, or some other pursuit, the path is difficult because achieving the pleasure involves enduring much pain.
That lesson is exemplified in the following true story of a boy named Bobby, who attended a summer sports camp where his superb skills were apparent to all. He was only fifteen, but his prowess was remarkable, and because baseball was the game he loved, everyone assumed he would one day be a major league star.
For many years after, however, most at the camp heard nothing about him. Then one summer day, when former campers were invited to visit, he appeared and participated in a ballgame. Although still outstanding, he had gained weight and slowed down considerably. Later he reported that he had played briefly in the minor leagues but had soon given up baseball and become a construction worker. His voice was quiet, as of one whose dream had long since faded.
When a veteran counselor who had known Bobby all his life was asked how such a superb athlete could have failed, this was the response: “Sure, he loved to play baseball, but that’s all he would do—play it. He wasn’t willing to work at it. Fielding ground balls at training camp may be fun for a while, but as the hours pass the fun disappears. The strain begins to tell, and the field empties. Before long just a few hopefuls are still practicing. They’re the only ones with a real chance to make the majors. The rest better find something else to do.”
Possibly Bobby found satisfaction in his life without ever playing in the major leagues; in that case, assuming he acted ethically, he lived well. But in calculating which pleasures to pursue, he needed to realize that they came at a price. If he wasn’t willing to pay it, then he wouldn’t be able to obtain those pleasures.
The same lesson is found in mastering any substantial subject, for each presents obstacles. As Alfred North Whitehead observes: “To write poetry you must study metre; and to build bridges you must be learned in the strength of material. Even the Hebrew prophets had learned to write, probably in those days requiring no mean effort. The untutored art of genius is—in the words of the Prayer Book—a vain thing, fondly invented.”
3Acquiring an education is not sheer joy. It involves careful study, a concern for detail, and the fortitude to carry projects through to completion regardless of their appeal. Any supposed royal road to learning is no more than a shortcut to ignorance. In short: no pain, no pleasure.
Epicurus teaches that happiness is within our power, but we need to make prudent choices after careful consideration of the range of consequences. As he puts it, “Every pleasure then because of its natural kinship to us is good, yet not every pleasure is to be chosen: even as every pain also is an evil, yet not all are always of a nature to be avoided. Yet by a scale of comparison and by the consideration of advantages and disadvantages we must form our judgment on all these matters. For the good on certain occasions we treat as bad, and conversely the bad as good.”
4The last sentence captures the essence of the view of Epicurus. The good, that is, pleasure, is sometimes bad for us, while the bad, that is, pain, is sometimes good for us. Making wise judgments about good and bad is prudence.
