Happiness and Goodness: Philosophical Reflections on Living Well

The Bible attributes the Book of Ecclesiastes to Koheleth, traditionally identified with Solomon, son of David and Bathsheba, powerful king of Israel, builder of the Temple in Jerusalem, famed for his wealth and wisdom. While modern scholarship does not accept the ascription of the Book to Solomon,¹ Koheleth is presented as one who possesses riches, authority, and prestige.

The dating of Ecclesiastes is uncertain, but several leading authorities believe it to be a work of the fourth or third centuries B.C.E., that is, about the time of Epicurus or somewhat later.² Given the interaction between the Hebrew and Greek cultures that occurred during this period, certain common themes might have influenced both Epicurus and the author of Ecclesiastes, although the matter remains murky. In any case, some similarities in outlook between the two are striking, although rarely noted.

Koheleth, of course, is a monotheist, whereas Epicurus is a polytheist, but in neither case is the divine the center of attention. As we have previously discussed, Epicurus affirms that the gods exist but denies that they have any effect on human events. Koheleth refers to God only occasionally and not in standard ways. As Robert Alter writes, “[Koheleth] has enough of a connection with tradition that he never absolutely denies the idea of a personal god, but his [God] often seems to be a stand-in for the cosmic powers-that-be, for fate or the overarching dynamic of reality that is beyond human control.”3 God may eventually judge us, but when, how, or by what standards is unclear. After all, “sometimes a good man perishes in spite of his goodness, and sometimes a wicked one endures in spite of his wickedness.”⁴ No afterlife is anticipated in which such injustices are corrected.

Both outlooks maintain that the pattern of world events is cyclical. Epicurus notes: “Nothing new happens in the universe, if you consider the infinite time past.”⁵ Koheleth famously remarks:

Epicurus seeks tranquility by living what Tim O’Keefe describes as “a moderately ascetic life.”⁷ In a memorable poem Koheleth also urges moderation:

The natural order has a balance that should be respected. In particular, no aspect of life should be pursued so single-mindedly as to blot out concern for other activities.

Like Epicurus, Koheleth especially disparages riches and fame: “Then my thoughts turned to all the fortune my hands had built up, to the wealth I had acquired and won—and oh, it was all futile and pursuit of wind; there was no real value under the sun.”¹⁰ As to renown, Koheleth warns that “the wise man, just like the fool, is not remembered forever; for, as the succeeding days roll by, both are forgotten.”¹¹

Not only is the quest for money and renown futile, so is every other pursuit.

The Hebrew word is “hevel” (rhymes with “level”), which can be translated as “futility,” “vanity,” “absurdity,” “nothingness,” or “mere breath.” Regardless, the point is that all efforts are ultimately useless. We may have high hopes for success over the long run, but as John Maynard Keynes put it bluntly, “In the long run we are all dead.”¹³

Here we arrive at a major difference between Epicurus and Koheleth. Epicurus finds hope for humanity in exercising reason and acting with restraint. Koheleth, while not denying value to wisdom and thoughtful behavior, views any strategy we may adopt as mere temporizing in the face of approaching doom. As regards death, man is akin to the beasts: “Both go to the same place; both came from dust and both return to dust.”¹⁴

Epicurus argues that once we understand death, we can be unconcerned about it and continue to find value in our existence. Koheleth disagrees, maintaining that once we understand death, we should recognize how much of our strivings it renders pointless. “So, too, I loathed all the wealth that I was gaining under the sun. For I shall leave it to the man who will succeed me—and who knows whether he will be wise or foolish?—and he will control all the wealth that I gained by toil and wisdom under the sun. That too is futile.”15 As Michael V. Fox comments, “What really distresses Koheleth is not the loss of his wealth but the inconsequentiality of his labors.”¹⁶

A related difference between Epicurus and Koheleth concerns the place of chance in human events. Epicurus recognizes it as having a role but a relatively minor one. “In yet few things chance hinders a wise man, but the greatest and most important matters reason has ordained and throughout the whole period of life does and will ordain.”¹⁷ For Koheleth, on the contrary:

Given that Koheleth views death as undermining much of our efforts in life and recognizes that death can come at any time without warning, he affords chance a much larger role than does Epicurus, to whom death is nothing.

Surprisingly, although Epicurus and Koheleth hold different views of death and chance, they advocate quite similar approaches to living well. We turn to these next.