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The
Imperfectability of Man
Review by Ryan McMaken
by Ryan McMaken
On
the Unseriousness of Human Affairs
by
James V. Schall, ISI
Books, 2001
"The best
things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in
your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path
of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but
do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties
and daily bread are the sweetest things in life."
~
Robert Louis Stevenson
"God
is dead," Nietzsche tells us. We have killed him and all we
are left with is terrible freedom. For James V. Schall, Nietzsche’s
assertion embodies modernism in all its foolishness and arrogance.
Nietzsche himself is no fool, but has only identified the central
belief of modernity: the belief that man is the master of all and
can bring everything within his grasp. In his most recent book,
On
the Unseriousness of Human Affairs, Schall contends however,
that man is not now and cannot be master of all, but in his mad
drive to be so has inverted the rational order of human affairs.
Where once man might have pursued the simple pleasures of the virtuous
life in a fallen world, modern man will not be content with anything
less than the creation of heaven on earth, a material paradise where
the problems of economics and politics have all been consumed by
the end of history. Schall denies not only that such a thing is
impossible, but that the very pursuit of such perfection is dangerous
and contrary to what man was created for: for happiness and for
contemplation of the "higher things," the things over which man
has no control.
For
Schall, the lesson of Original Sin (not necessarily as a religious
dogma, but simply as a fact of human nature) is a lesson learned
all too rarely by modern man. For the same sin that afflicted the
first parents is the same that afflicts us now: intellectual pride.
And according to the essayist Hilaire Belloc, "no sin is more
offensive to the angels." The intellect is fine but there is
so much more:
"What!
Here we are with the jolly world of God all around us, able
to sing, to draw, to paint, to hammer and build, to sail, to
ride horses, to run, to leap; having for our splendid inheritance
love in youth and memory in old age, and we are to take one
miserable little faculty, our one-legged, knock-kneed, gimcrack,
grumpy intellect, or analytical curiosity rather (a diseased
appetite) and let it swell till it eats up every other function?"
But
what of this "miserable little faculty" that Belloc is so suspicious
of? When is the appropriate time to use it? Aristotle appears to
give us the answer, and as with so much of Aristotle’s thought,
the answer lies in moderation. After all, it was once understood
that the work within the political and the economical spheres was
to provide order and resources for leisure, and within leisure,
to turn to the things that really matter: sport, beauty, philosophy,
and the company of friends. We find that Schall is fond of quoting
Samuel Johnson and his friend James Boswell, who were frequent dinner
companions. After one night of particularly fulfilling conversation,
Boswell declared "I believe this is as much as can be made
of life." Clearly, Aristotle would have agreed, for like many
of the ancients, Aristotle was preoccupied with what it meant to
live well, and for Schall, it is "prudence and the contemplative
and supernatural virtues that have to do with our living well."
If
living well consists in finding connection with the supernatural
virtues, what happens when man rejects the supernatural? What happens
is modern man. The rejection of the supernatural has occurred to
man throughout the ages because it denigrates the works of man.
It places his wars, his social programs, and his ideological battles
below something higher. It says that the ways of man are not the
best way, or more insulting yet, not even the only way. Schall tells
us:
"The
whole modern argument against God is that he has distracted us
from the really important things – our own lot, our own making
of a world that is ours alone to redeem, our efforts to make the
world safe for democracy, our drive to alleviate poverty and sickness
and even death. Anything devoted to the transcendent is so much
distraction. Indeed, religion is not merely the opium of the people,
but the rival of man."
It
is here where we really begin to the see the political repercussions
of refusing to learn the lesson of original sin. Flannery O’Connor
in a letter to a friend who was near to despair over the amount
of sin in the Church wrote: "What you seem actually to demand
is that the Church put the kingdom of heaven on earth right now,
that the Holy Spirit be translated at once into all flesh…. You
are asking that man return at once to the state God created him
in; you are leaving out the terrible radical human pride that causes
death." The philosopher George Steiner pointed out that many
Jews, impatient with the delay of the messiah, and Christians, tired
of waiting for the second coming, have decided to take matters into
their own hands and mete out universal justice on their own in their
own time. It is at this point that man slips from the reality of
the fallen world where "the worst has already happened and
continues to happen" into a world where man, fueled by radical
pride, can set it all right, where he can seize control of history
and make it into something more to his liking. Only by engaging
in the unserious things, however, can we regain our sanity, our
prudence, and our virtue. Only through dance and song and play and
sport can we appreciate the created world for what it is, and not
what in our prideful imaginations it might have been.
Throughout
history, Americans in general have been remarkably immune to the
pride and the temptations of bringing heaven to earth. Generally
skeptical of messianic visions like Marxism, fascism, and utopian
socialism, Americans have largely shrugged off the frantic claims
of ideologues that all can be made perfect if we are only willing
to abandon ourselves to the pursuit. In other words, Americans have
been reluctant to embrace only the serious things. To be sure, American
history has been punctuated with unpleasant episodes of frantic
visions of paradise in manifest destiny or in the imperialism of
the early 20th century, but such crusades have generally
burnt themselves out and Americans have been content to follow the
advice of George Washington and to pursue peaceful commerce to provide
Americans with the time to once again pursue the unserious things.
Schall
does not mention the fevered radicalism that so now occupies America’s
elites and is now so enmeshed in her foreign policy, and even though
he seems to have disregarded his own advice in the past
year, it is easy to see that his call to remember the lesson
of Original Sin should not be just an academic question. In fact,
our current state of affairs reminds one of what Schall calls "aberrations"
of human prudence, and such aberrations "suggest a common theme,
namely, that an improper understanding of man’s final destiny necessarily,
yet still voluntarily, sets one off to find or to create more rapidly
the Kingdom of God on earth. This search justifies activities that
violate the Commandments and reason in the name of a greater, more
urgent good." Reading Schall’s words, it is difficult to see
how we can continue to tell ourselves that this is not the road
down which American civilization is now headed.
Daily
we are bombarded with claims that we must invest ourselves in a
battle to destroy evil, or to bring our way of life to every corner
of the globe at the point of a gun. We are told that if victory
in these things can be attained, then it must be attained,
for some in their arrogance still believe that the Kingdom of God,
thanks to us, is at hand. As in Schall’s aberrations, reason and
the Ten Commandments have been shunted aside in favor of a greater
goal – bringing "market democracy" to the Arab world and
securing more and more territory for American bases, American markets,
and American oil rigs. Who can be troubled with such unserious things
as domestic culture, arts, and community when total victory is at
hand? We only need invade a few more countries, or bomb a few more
cities, or trample a few more American liberties until victory is
ours, now and forever.
Schall,
like the philosophers, tells us that in our folly, we are looking
for a time when we will all live "happily ever after"
when all the heroes and heroines have nothing left to do. What will
we do then, when all the serious things have been taken care of?
Indeed, man will have to rediscover that, as Plato asserted, he
is a mere "plaything" of God, and that this is the best
thing about being human. Of course, after having sacrificed everything
in the name of bringing the Kingdom to earth, man will have forgotten
about the unserious things, and the contemplative and supernatural
virtues will have been swallowed up in the "victory" over
history and over sin itself. If we allow ourselves to be students
of the higher things, we know that there will never be a time when
we, through our own efforts, will live "happily ever after."
So why sacrifice the good things in pursuit of such an unattainable
goal? After the rubble produced by our arrogance is cleared and
the smoke lifts, it will still be the same as always, but if we
are lucky, we will be able to say after a fine dinner "this
is as much as can be made of life" and leave the serious things
for another time.
December
8, 2003
Ryan
McMaken [send him mail]
is a regular columnist for LewRockwell.com.
Copyright
© 2003 LewRockwell.com
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