4 Roman Morals and Disorientation
Why I am also a Roman concerning Morals
Ancient philosophers, as far back as the early Greeks, framed the question of “a good life” as one of opposition. When is a life good, beautiful, satisfying? What is happiness – one used to say “blessedness” or “felicity”, or the philosophical term Eudaimonia – and when is a life “happy”?
Two opposites were asserted, which remain valid today. The first: live wisely and reasonably, restrained in your pleasures, and according to general custom. Fulfill your obligations– that is, what is required of you. This was the philosophy of the school of the Stoics, who decisively influenced early Christianity in Rome.
The other, its antithesis, already developed in Plato’s time, was the philosophy of delight. Named variously according to its characteristics, it includes the Kyrenaic Philosophy of Aristippus (often called Hedonism in modern usage), or Epicurus’ Philosophy of Joy: avoid pain, and prefer spiritual pleasure (joy) to physical, as physical (over)indulgence may easily become its opposite (e.g., with alcohol).
Between these two antipodes we find numerous subtle gradations: for example, the cynic doctrine of eschewal, non-adaptation, and asceticism: depend on no one and nothing, be free, and remain free.
Thus also concerning morals, I am a Roman. Whatever is right/wrong, good/bad, normal/abnormal according to customs, morals, or everyday etiquette, to say nothing of sexual behaviors, can presently only be claimed – that is, fixed – by dogmatists. In these matters, I follow the advice of Sextus Empiricus: remain skeptical of all systems and worldviews. Thus I seek out, from each of the various systems, case by case, whatever seems appropriate. Beyond that, I try to conform to prevailing traditions, and go with the flow.
Some examples:
I like Marxism’s Theory of Alienation, and the critique of the all-encompassing, indeed totalitarian economism of the time. That everything is subordinated to maximizing returns, to money, to consumption, and objectification.
In conservatism I like the delaying, restraining element of retardation. Only thus can the best establish itself definitively and properly, and remain a while as extant tradition (see above).
As far as desires go, I’d rather avoid what I dislike than seek out what I like. Moreover, every pleasure wants to increase, and always more – every pleasure wants eternity: deep, deep eternity, says Nietzsche. According to the Buddha, all unhappiness arises from desire. Better to leave it be and live ascetically, without needs, like monks.
In Christianity I like the idea of harmlessness, with which it nonviolently and victoriously faced the might of Roman imperialism. I also deeply enjoy religious rituals. Even Cicero, such an intelligent thinker, teacher, and translator of Greek philosophy, was not unhappy to serve in Rome as Pontifex Maximus (the modern-day office of Pope) and, as High Priest, to read the flights of birds like a fortune-teller, even if he didn’t always believe it himself. His “Letters to Atticus”, which provide a good insight into the contemporary history and culture, were among my first forays into my many years of private study of the Greco-Roman world.
In Catholicism I very much like the sensuousness of colors, forms, sounds, and scents. Likewise its internationalism, its ceremonial and millennia-old traditions deeply impress me. In Protestantism, I like its reasonableness. I would immediately accept it as a general lawgiver.
In the philosophy of the Skeptics, I like the typically “postmodern” paradox, that it encompasses itself, and thus also cancels itself out – skepticism of skepticism is self-abnegation. The Law of the Excluded Middle is, in my judgment, not always valid. “A” can also be “not A;” so much for the Rationalists, accused by the Post-Structuralists and Deconstructionists (to whom I also belong) of Logocentrism. After Derrida, this is a product of the male Patriarchy (“Phallocracy”) in the west. Women think differently. This is also one of my favorite subjects (“what is post-structuralism?”); more on that later.
In moments when I encounter the sacred (such as in Catholic churches), I practice Buddhist meditation – that is, concentrating only on my breathing.
This mixture of various and contradictory elements is a favorite specialty of the present-day philosophy of post-modernism. Not only there, but also fashion and design, or the arts or music, work with such heterogeneous elements. In the arts, such a method of working with contrary ideas is called eclectic: “Eclecticism.” In philosophy or religion, one occasionally calls it Syncretism.
Let us dive deeper into the waters of a cheerful and unabashed disorientation – now and again catching a brief glimpse of an edge of truth, led by all-mighty Destiny (which we can neither recognize nor see through nor govern) – each of us with the most individual and multiplicitous goal of felicity. Let us live further in an open, portentous, and chaotic system.
It need not be difficult. Perhaps we could even enjoy this condition of imponderableness and contradiction‽ At least now and again.
Brief and also but rare are the days of real happiness (sigh). I get rather poetic, and this despite the many boldfaced terms, which may require googling (or not).
Thanks for reading!
translated by Andrew Walsh

