Early essay (1851) by Arthur Schopenhauer
Unless
suffering is the direct and immediate object of life, our
existence must entirely fail of its aim.
It is absurd to look upon the enormous amount of pain that abounds everywhere in the world, and originates in needs and necessities inseparable from life itself, as serving no purpose at all and the result of mere chance. Each separate
misfortune, as it comes, seems, no doubt, to be something exceptional; but
misfortune in general is the rule.
I know of no greater
absurdity than that propounded by most systems of philosophy in declaring
evil to be
negative in its character.
Evil is just what is positive; it makes its own
existence felt.
Leibnitz is particularly concerned to defend this
absurdity; and he seeks to strengthen his position by using a
palpable and paltry
sophism. It is the good which is
negative; in other words,
happiness and
satisfaction always imply some desire fulfilled, some state of pain brought to an end.
This explains the fact that
we generally find pleasure to be not nearly so pleasant as we expected, and pain very much more painful. The
pleasure in this world, it has been said, outweighs the pain; or, at any rate, there is an even balance between the two. If the reader wishes to see whether this statement is true, let him
compare the respective feelings of two animals, one of which is engaged in eating the other.
The best
consolation in
misfortune or
affliction of any kind will be the thought of other people who are in a still worse
plight than yourself; and this is a form of
consolation open to everyone. But what an awful
fate this means for mankind as a whole!
We are like lambs in a field, disporting themselves under the eye of the butcher who chooses out first one and then another for his prey. So it is that in our good days we are all
unconscious of the
evil Fate may have presently in store for us -
sickness,
poverty,
mutilation, loss of sight or reason. No little part of the
torment of
existence lies in this, that Time is continually pressing upon us, never letting us take breath, but always coming after us like a
taskmaster with a whip. If at any moment Time stays his hand, it is only when we are delivered over to the
misery of
boredom.
But
misfortune has its uses; for, as our bodily frame would burst asunder if the pressure of the atmosphere were removed, so, if the lives of great men were relieved of all need, hardship and adversity; if everything they took in hand were successful, they would be so swollen with
arrogance that, though they might not burst they would present the spectacle of unbridled
folly - nay, they would go mad. And I may say, further, that
a certain amount of care or pain or trouble is necessary for every man at all times. A ship without ballast is unstable and will not go straight.
Certain it is that
work, worry, labor and trouble, form the lot of almost all men their whole life long. But if all wishes were fulfilled as soon as they arose, how would men occupy their lives? what would they do with their time? If the world were a
paradise of
luxury and ease, a land flowing with milk and honey, where every Jack obtained his Jill at once, men would either die of
boredom or hang themselves; or there would be wars, massacres and murders; so that in the end mankind would inflict more
suffering on itself than it has now to accept at the hands of Nature.
In early youth, as we contemplate our coming life, we are like children in a theater before the curtain is raised, sitting there in high spirits and eagerly waiting for the play to begin. It is a blessing that we do not know what is really going to happen. Could we
foresee it, there are times when children might seem like innocent prisoners, condemned, not to
death, but to life, and as yet all
unconscious of what their
sentence means. Nevertheless every man desires to reach old age; in other words, a state of life of which it may be said,
"It is bad today, and it will be worse tomorrow; and so on till the worst of all."
Again, you may look upon life as an unprofitable episode, disturbing the blessed calm on non-
existence. And, in any case, even though things have gone with you tolerably well, the longer you live the more clearly you will feel that, on the whole, life is a
disappointment, nay, a cheat. If two men who were friends in their youth meet again when they are old, after being separated for a lifetime, the chief feeling they will have at the sight of each other will be one of complete
disappointment at life as a whole; because their thoughts will be carried back to that earlier time when life seemed so fair as it lay spread out before them in the rosy light of dawn, promised so much - and then performed so little. This feeling will so completely predominate over every other that they will not even consider it necessary to give it words; but on either side it will be silently assumed, and form the groundwork of all they have to talk about.
He who lives to see two or three generations is like a man who sits some time in the conjurer's booth at a fair, and witnesses the performance twice or thrice in succession. The tricks were meant to be seen only once; and when they are no longer a
novelty and cease to deceive their effect is gone. While no man is much to be envied for his lot, there are countless numbers whose fate is to be deplored. Life is a task to be done. It is a fine thing to say
defunctus est; it means that the man has done his task.
If children were brought into the world by an act of pure reason alone, would the human race continue to exist? Would not a man rather have so much
sympathy with the coming generation as to spare it the burden of
existence? or at any rate not take it upon himself to impose that burden upon it in cold blood.
I shall be told, I suppose, that my philosophy is comfortless - because I speak the truth; and people prefer to be assured that everything the Lord has made is good. Go to the priests, then, and leave philosophers in peace! At any rate, do not ask us to accommodate our
doctrines to the lessons you have been taught. That is what those rascals of sham philosophers will do for you. Ask them for any
doctrine you please, and you will get it. Your University professors are bound to preach
optimism; and it is an easy and agreeable task to upset their theories.
I have reminded the reader that every state of
welfare, every feeling of
satisfaction, is
negative in its character; that is to say, it consists in
freedom from pain, which is the positive element of
existence. It follows, therefore, that the
happiness of any given life is to be measured, not by its joys or
pleasures, but by the extent to which it has been free from
suffering - from positive
evil. If this is the true standpoint, the lower animals appear to enjoy a happier
destiny than man. Let us examine the matter a little more closely. However varied the forms that human
happiness and
misery may take, leading a man to seek the one and shun the other, the material basis of it all is bodily
pleasure or bodily pain. This basis is very restricted: it is simply health, food, protection from wet or cold, the
satisfaction of the sexual instinct; or else the absence of these things. Consequently, as far as real physical
pleasure is concerned, the man is not better off than the brute, except in so far as the higher possibilities of his nervous system make him more sensitive to every kind of
pleasure, but also, it must be remembered, to every kind of pain. But then compared with the brute, how much stronger are the
passions aroused in him! what an immeasurable difference there is in the depth and vehemence of his emotions! - and yet, in the one case, as in the other, all produce the same result in the end: namely, health, food, clothing, and so on.
The chief source of all this
passion is that thought for what is absent and future, which, with man, exercises such a powerful influence upon all he does. It is this that is the real origin of his cares, his hopes, his fears - emotions which affect him much more deeply than could ever be the case with those present joys and
sufferings to which the brute is confined. In his powers of reflection, memory and foresight, man possesses, as it were, a machine for condensing and storing up his
pleasures and his sorrows. But the brute has nothing of the kind; whenever it is in pain, it is as though it were
suffering for the first time, even though the same thing should have previously happened to it times out of number. It has no power of summing up its feelings. Hence its careless and placid temper: how much it is to be envied! But in man reflection comes in, with all the emotions to which it gives rise; and taking up the same elements of
pleasure and pain which are common to him and the brute, it develops his susceptibility to
happiness and
misery to such a degree that, at one moment the man is brought in an instant to a state of delight that may even prove fatal, at another to the depths of
despair and
suicide.
If we carry our analysis even farther, we shall find that, in order to increase his
pleasures, man has intentionally added to the number and pressure of his needs, which in their original state were not much more difficult to satisfy than those of the brute. Hence
luxury in all its forms: delicate food, the use of
tobacco and
opium, spirituous liquors, fine clothes and the thousand and one things that he considers necessary to his
existence.
And above and beyond all this, there is a separate and peculiar source of
pleasure, and consequently of pain, which man has established for himself, also as a result of using his powers of
reflection; and this occupies him out of all proportion to its value, nay, almost more than all his other interests put together - I mean
ambition and the feeling of honor and
shame; in plain words, what he thinks about the opinion other people have of him. Taking a thousand forms, often very strange ones, this becomes the goal of almost all the efforts he makes that are not rooted in physical
pleasure or pain. It is true the besides the sources of
pleasure which he has in common with the brute, man has the
pleasures of the mind as well. These admit of many gradations, from the most innocent trifling or the merest talk up to the highest intellectual achievements; but there is the accompanying
boredom to be set against them on the side of
suffering.
boredom is a form of
suffering unknown to brutes, at any rate in their natural state; it is only the very cleverest of them who show faint traces of it when they are domesticated; whereas in the case of man it has become a downright scourge. The crowd of miserable wretches whose one aim in life is to fill their purses, but never to put anything into their heads offers a singular instance of this
torment of
boredom. Their wealth becomes a punishment by delivering them up to the
misery of having nothing to do; for, to escape it, they will rush around in all directions, traveling here, there and everywhere. No sooner do they arrive in a place than they are anxious to know what amusements it affords; just as though they were beggars asking where they could receive a dole! Of a truth, need and
boredom are the two poles of human life. Finally, I may mention that as regards the sexual relation, man is committed to a peculiar arrangement which drives him obstinately to choose one person. This feeling grows, now and then, into a more or less
passionate love, which is the source of little
pleasure and much
suffering.
It is, however, a wonderful thing that the mere addition of thought should serve to raise such a vast and
lofty structure of human
happiness and
misery; resting, too, on the same narrow basis of joy and sorrow as man holds in common with the brute, and exposing him to such violent emotions, to so many storms of
passion, so much convulsion of feeling, that what he has suffered stands written and may be read in the lines on his face. And yet, when all is told, he has been struggling ultimately for the very same things that the brute has attained, and with an incomparably smaller expenditure of
passion and pain.
But all this contributes to increase the measure of
suffering in human life out of all proportion to its
pleasures; and the pains of life are made much worse for man by the fact that
death is something very real to him. The brute flies from
death instinctively without really knowing what it is, and therefore without ever contemplating it in the way natural to a man, who has this prospect always before his eyes. So that even if only a few brutes die a natural
death, and most of them live only just long enough to transmit their species, and then, if not earlier, become the prey of some other animal - whilst man, on the other hand, manages to make so-called natural
death the rule, to which however, there are a good many exceptions - the advantage is on the side of the brute, for the reason stated above. But the fact is that man attains the natural term of years just as seldom as the brute; because the unnatural way in which he lives, and the strain of work and emotion, lead to a degeneration of the race; and so his goal is not often reached.
The brute is much more content with mere
existence than man; the plant is wholly so; and man finds
satisfaction in it just in proportion as he is dull and obtuse. Accordingly, the life of the brute carries less sorrow with it, but also less of joy, when compared with the life of man; and while this may be traced, on the one side, to
freedom from
torment of care and anxiety, it is also due to the fact that hope, in any real sense, is unknown to the brute. It is thus deprived of any share in that which gives us the most and the best of our joys and
pleasures, the mental anticipation of a happy future, and the inspiriting play of fantasy, both of which we owe to our power of imagination. If the brute is free from care, it is also, in this sense without hope; in either case because its consciousness is limited to the present moment, to what it can actually see before it. The brute is an embodiment of present impulses, and hence what elements of fear and hope exist in its nature - and they do not go very far - arise only in relation to objects that lie before it and within reach of those impulses: whereas a man's range of vision embraces the whole of his life, and extends far into the past and future.
Following upon this, there is one respect in which the brutes show real wisdom when compared to us - I mean the quiet, placid enjoyment of the present moment. The tranquillity of mind which this seems to give them often puts us to
shame for the many times we allow our thoughts and our cares to make us restless and discontented. And, in fact, those
pleasures of hope and anticipation which I had mentioned are not to be had for nothing,. The delight which a man has in hoping for and looking forward to some special
satisfaction is a part of the real
pleasure attaching to it enjoyed in advance. This is afterwards deducted; for the more we look forward to anything the less
satisfaction we find in it when it comes. But the brute's enjoyment is not anticipated and therefore suffers no deduction; so that the actual
pleasure of the moment comes to it whole and unimpaired. In the same way, too,
evil presses upon the brute only with its own intrinsic weight; whereas with us the fear of its coming often makes its burden ten times more grievous.
It is just this characteristic way in which the brute gives itself up entirely to the present moment that contributes so much to the delight we take in our domestic pets. They are the present moment personified, and in some respect they make us feel the value of every hour that is free from trouble and annoyance, which we, with our thoughts and preoccupations, mostly disregard. But man, that selfish and heartless creature, misuses this quality of the brute to be more content than we are with mere
existence, and often works it to such an extent that he allows the brute absolutely nothing more than mere, bare life.
The bird which was made so that it might rove over half the world, he shuts up in the space of a cubic foot, there to die a slow death in longing and crying for freedom; for in a cage it does not sing for the pleasure of it. And when I see how man misuses the dog, his friend; how he ties this intelligent animal up with a chain, I feel the deepest
sympathy with the brute and burning
indignation against its master.
We shall see later that by taking a very high standpoint it is possible to justify the
sufferings of mankind. But this justification cannot apply to animals, whose
sufferings, while in a great measure brought about by men, are often considerable even apart from their agency. And so we are forced to ask, Why and for what purpose does all this
torment and
agony exist? There is nothing here to give the will pause; it is not free to deny itself and so obtain
redemption. There is only one consideration that may serve to explain the
sufferings of animals. It is this: that the will to live, which underlies the whole world of
phenomena, must in their case satisfy its cravings by feeding upon itself. This it does by forming a gradation of
phenomena, every one of which exists at the expense of another. I have shown, however, that the capacity for
suffering is less in animals than in man. Any further explanation that may be given of their fate will be in the nature of
hypothesis, if not actually mythical in its character; and I leave the reader to speculate upon the matter for himself.
Brahma is said to have produced the world by a kind of fall or mistake; and in order to atone for his
folly he is bound to remain in it himself until he works out his
redemption. As an account of the origin of things, this is admirable! According to the
doctrines of
Buddhism, the world came into being as the result of some inexplicable disturbance in the heavenly calm of
Nirvana, that blessed state obtained by expiation, which had endured so long a time - the change taking place by a kind of
fatality. This explanation must be understood as having at bottom some moral bearing; although it is illustrated by an exactly parallel theory in the domain of physical science, which places the origin of the sun in a primitive streak of mist, formed one knows not how.
Subsequently, by a series of moral errors, the world became gradually worse and worse - true of the physical orders as well - until it assumed the dismal aspect it wears today. Excellent! The Greeks looked upon the world and the gods as the work of an inscrutable necessity. A passable explanation: we may be content with it until we can get a better. Again,
Ormuzd and
Ahriman are rival powers, continually at war. This is not bad. But that a God like
Jehovah should have created this world of
misery and
woe, out of sheer
caprice, and because he enjoyed doing it, and should then have clapped his hands in praise of his own work, and declared everything to be very good - this will not do at all! In its explanation of the origin of the world,
Judaism is inferior to any other form of religious
doctrine professed by a civilized nation; and it is quite in keeping with this that it is the only one which presents no trace whatever of any belief in the
immortality of the soul.
Even though
Liebnitz' contention, that this is the best of all possible worlds, were correct, that would not justify God in having created it. For he is the
Creator not of the world only, but of possibility itself; and therefore, he ought to have so ordered possibility as that it would admit of something better.
There are two things which make it impossible to believe that this world is the successful work of an all-wise, all-good, and, at the same time, all-powerful Being; firstly, the
misery which abounds in it everywhere; and secondly, the obvious
imperfection of its highest product, man, who is a burlesque of what he should be. These things cannot be reconciled with any such belief. On the contrary, they are just the facts which support what I have been saying; they are our own authority for viewing the world as the outcome of our own misdeeds, and therefore, as something that had better not have been. Whilst, under the former
hypothesis, they amount to a bitter accusation against the Creator, and supply material for sarcasm; under the latter they form an
indictment against our own nature, our own will, and teach us the lesson of
humility. They lead us to see that,
like the children of a libertine, we come into this world with the burden of sin upon us; and that it is only through having continually to
atone for this sin that our
existence is so miserable, and that its end is
death.
There is nothing more certain than the general truth that it is the grievous
sin of the world which has produced the grievous
suffering of the world. I am not referring here to the physical condition between these two things lying in the realm of
experience; my meaning is
metaphysical. Accordingly, the sole thing the reconciles me to the
Old Testament is the story of the Fall. In my eyes, it is the only metaphysical truth in that book, even though it appears in the form of an
allegory. There seems to me no better explanation of our
existence than that it is the result of some false step, some sin of which we are paying the penalty. I cannot refrain from recommending to the thoughtful reader a popular, but at the same time profound treatise upon this subject by
Claudius which exhibits the essentially pessimistic spirit of Christianity. It is entitled:
Cursed is the ground for thy sake.
Between the ethics of the Greeks and the ethics of the Hindus, there is a glaring contrast. In the one case (with the exception. it must be confessed, of
Plato), the object of ethics is to enable a man to lead a happy life; in the other, it is to free and redeem him from life altogether - as is directly stated in the very first words of the
Sankhya Karika.
Allied with this is the contrast between the Greek and the Christian idea of
death. It is strikingly presented in a visible form on a fine antique
sarcophagus in the gallery at
Florence, which exhibits, in relief, the whole series of ceremonies attending a wedding in ancient times, from the formal offer to the evening when
Hymen's torch lights the happy couple home. Compare that with the Christian
coffin, draped in mournful black and surmounted with a
crucifix! How much significance there is in these two ways of finding comfort in
death. They are opposed to each other, but each is right. The one points to the
affirmation of the will to live, which remains sure of life for all time, however rapidly its forms may change. The other, in the symbol of
suffering and
death, points to the
denial of the will to live, to
redemption from this world, the domain of
death and d
evil. And in the question between the affirmation and the denial of the will to live, Christianity is in the last resort right.
The contrast which the
New Testament presents when compared with the Old, according to the ecclesiastical view of the matter, is just that existing between my ethical system and the moral philosophy of Europe. The
Old Testament represents man as under the
dominion of Law, in which, however, there is no
redemption. The New Testament declares Law to have failed, frees man from its dominion, and in its stead preaches the kingdom of grace, to be won by faith, love of neighbor and entire sacrifice of self. This is the path of
redemption from the
evil of the world. The spirit of the
New Testament is undoubtedly
asceticism, however your Protestants and rationalists may twist it to suit their purposes.
Asceticism is the denial of the will to live; and the transition from the Old Testament to the new, from the dominion of Law to that of Faith, from justification by works to
redemption through the Mediator, from the domain of sin and
death to eternal life in Christ, means, when taken in its real sense, the transition from the merely moral virtues to the denial of the will to live. My philosophy shows the metaphysical foundation of
justice and the love of mankind, and points to the goal to which these virtues necessarily lead, if they are practiced in
perfection. At the same time it is candid in confessing that a man must turn his back upon the world, and that the denial of the will to live is the way of
redemption. It is therefore really at one with the spirit of the
New Testament, whilst all other systems are couched in the spirit of the Old; that is to say, theoretically as well as practically, their result is
Judaism - mere despotic theism. In this sense, then, my
doctrine might be called the only true Christian philosophy - however paradoxical a statement this may seem to people who take superficial views instead of penetrating to the heart of the matter.
If you want a safe compass to guide you through life, and to banish all doubts as to the right way of looking at it, you cannot do better than accustom yourself to regard the world as a penitentiary, a sort of penal colony, or ergasterion, as the earliest philosophers called it. Amongst the
Christian Fathers,
Origen with praiseworthy courage, took this view, which is further justified by certain objective theories of life. I refer, not to my own philosophy alone, but to the wisdom of all ages, as expressed in
Brahmanism and
Buddhism, and in the sayings of Greek philosophers like
Empedocles and
Pythagoras; as also by
Cicero, in his remark that the wise men of old used to teach that we come into this world to pay the
penalty of
crime committed in another state of
existence - a
doctrine which formed part of the initiation into the mysteries. And
Vanini - whom his contemporaries burned, finding that an easier task than to confute him - puts the same thing in a very forcible way.
Man, he says, is so full of every kind of misery that, were it not repugnant to the Christian religion, I should venture to affirm that if evil spirits exist at all they have passed into human form and are now atoning their crimes. And true
Christianity - using the word in its right sense - also regards our
existence as the consequence of sin and error.
If you accustom yourself to this view of life you will regulate your expectations accordingly, and cease to look upon all its disagreeable incidents, great and small, its
sufferings, its worries, its
misery, as anything unusual or irregular; nay, you will find that everything is as it should be, in a world where each of us pays the penalty of
existence in his own peculiar way. Amongst the
evils of a penal colony is the
society of those who form it; and if the reader is worthy of better company, he will need no words from me to remind him of what he has to put up with at present. If he has a soul above the common or if he is a man of genius, he will occasionally feel like some noble prisoner of state, condemned to work in the galleys with common criminals; and he will follow his example and try to isolate himself.
In general, however, it should be said that this view of life will enable us to contemplate the so-called imperfections of the great majority of men, their moral and intellectual deficiencies and the resulting base type of countenance, without any surprise, to say nothing of
indignation; for we shall never cease to reflect where we are, and that the men about us are beings conceived and born in sin, and living to atone for it. That is what
Christianity means in speaking of the sinful nature of man.
Pardon's the word to all!. Whatever
folly men commit, be their shortcomings or their vices what they may, let us exercise forbearance; remembering that when these faults appear in others it is our own follies and vices we behold. They are the shortcomings of
humanity, to which we belong; whose faults, one and all, we share; yes, even those very faults at which we now wax so indignant, merely because they have not yet appeared in ourselves. They are faults that do not lie on the surface. But they exist down there in the depths of our
nature; and should anything call them forth they will come and show themselves, just as we now see them in others. One man, it is true, may have faults that are absent in his fellow; and it is undeniable that the sum total of bad qualities is in some cases very large; for the difference of individuality between man and man passes all measure.
In fact, the conviction that the world and man is something that had better not have been is of a kind to fill us with
indulgence towards one another. Nay, from this point of view, we might well consider the proper form of address to be, not
Monsieur, Sir, mein Herr, but my fellow-sufferer, Soci malorum, compagnon de miseres! This may perhaps sound strange, but it is in keeping with the facts: it puts others in the right light; and it reminds us of that which is after all the most necessary thing of life - the tolerance, patience, regard, and love of neighbor, of which everyone stands in need, and which, therefore, every man owes his fellow.