Comes The Dawn

21

THE GOOD LIFE: A FLOWING ACTION

The truest view of life has always seemed to me to be that which shows that we are here not to enjoy, but to learn.

—F. W. ROBERTSON

As I see it, the truest view of life is that we are here to learn and to enjoy. While learning, if it be truly such, is enjoyable in all walks of life, my reference in what follows will be to learning about freedom—the good life.

By “enjoy” I do not have in mind the frivolous kind such as entertainment and the like or, as the dictionary has it: “not properly serious or sensible; silly and light-minded; giddy.” Learning and enjoying, properly understood, belong together. My belief: Learning, if it be “truly such,” is unquestionably life’s most enjoyable experience. I agree with Aristotle: “To learn gives the liveliest pleasure, not only to philosophers but to men in general.” This is a conviction greatly in need of explanation if freedom is to prevail, for self if not for others.

But first, a few thoughts as to the kind of learning that is “truly such,” the kind that should, in my view, be one’s ambition. Believing that all actions, even the most serious, should be joyous—fun—here’s support for the idea in the humor of Will Rogers: “So live life that you wouldn’t be ashamed to sell the family parrot to the town gossip.” The instruction? The seeking of righteousness is first and foremost in the kind of learning that is “truly such”—approval from God, not by the gossipy ilk. Merely to stuff one’s mind with the currently fashionable information and slogans of most public media is not learning; it gives us no useful ideas on which to base constructive and creative human action.

One way to draw the distinction between the two kinds of learning is to recognize that it is easy to learn something about many things, but absolutely impossible to learn everything about anything. The more we learn about any one thing—be it an atom, a snowflake or galaxy—the more we know we don’t know—the greater the mystery. Increasing mystery identifies the kind of learning that is “truly such,” the kind that is life’s most enjoyable experience. The other, the popular kind that bedevils our society, was lampooned in Poor Richard’s Almanac: “A learned blockhead is a greater blockhead than an ignorant one.”

One needs, however, more explanations of the type of learning we are here for, the learning that relates to freedom—the good life. That it is a flowing action should be self-evident, flowing since the dawn of language. As Henry Hazlitt suggests, we could accomplish nothing if we had to depend on our own unaided efforts. We could not think above the level of a chimpanzee if we did not inherit the priceless gift of an already-created language. We think in words, an inheritance that is obviously a flowing action.

Learning, the kind worthy of praise, is also a growing action. A brilliant observation: “One does not grow old; one becomes old by not growing.” Growing in what dimension? In awareness, perception, consciousness; in a word, Becoming! That’s what we are here for: emergence—no arrest at any level of learning—by self or by political or any other kind of know-it-alls. When on the right course—emerging which freedom permits—flowing and growing are related actions and occur simultaneously. This, unquestionably, is life’s most enjoyable experience.

True learning is the seeking of truth now and always. Karl Jaspers phrased it thus:

The Greek word for philosopher (philosophos) . . . signifies the lover of wisdom (knowledge) as distinguished from him who considers himself wise in the possession of knowledge. The meaning of the word still endures: the essence of philosophy is not the possession of truth but the search for truth, regardless of how many philosophers may belie it with their dogmatism, that is, with a body of didactic principles purporting to be definitive and complete. Philosophy means to be on the way. Its questions are more essential than its answers, and every answer becomes a new question.

And Stewart Edward White reports a revelation as to how we should respect truth as each of us understands it:

One acquires a truth as one believes in it, and admits it, and tries to stick to it. Until that truth has become to you an unfailing motive power; until you cannot help acting any way but in it; until you are one of its supporting elements, as it were, you do not gain the full benefit of its possession.

There are those among us who regard the free market, private ownership, limited government way of life—freedom of the individual to act creatively as he pleases—as a truth so nearly approximating Divine Intention that we admit it and try to stick to it. We seek to be one of its supporting elements.

We are, however, faced with not less than three obstacles which must be understood or they will overrun and the truth as we see it will not prevail:

1. Despair: Manifested by millions of dictocrats who would run our lives, plus the millions who blindly follow them.

2. Apathy: Our belief cannot be a possession of society or even of ourselves until we can demonstrate its workability.

3. Uniqueness: The flowing, growing action—the very essence of the good life—is accompanied by many dropouts or changeovers which, if the reasons be not known, can lead to a discouragement so pronounced that some workers in freedom’s vineyard will become dropouts themselves.

The first obstacle is an erroneous assessment, namely that freedom has no chance short of mass—majority—understanding and approval. Straighten out the millions! Any individual who entertains this false notion must conclude that our case is hopeless. He throws in the sponge—one less worker in freedom’s vineyard—a dropout!

Have a look at history to remedy this mood of despair. All turnabouts from the bad to the good life have been led by an infinitesimal minority. The most important movement in Western Civilization was achieved by a Leader and a dozen Disciples. Jefferson and two or three others wrote freedom’s greatest political document: The Declaration of Independence. Two men—Richard Cobden and John Bright—turned England around following the Napoleonic wars. Three men—Ludwig von Mises, Wilhelm Roepke and Ludwig Erhard—performed a similar miracle in devastated West Germany shortly after World War II. Saviors are always few in number.1

The second obstacle, namely, the notion that freedom cannot grace society or even ourselves unless we can explain its workability, is a profound challenge. It can be met only by a growing action by free men. Many of us know that freedom does work wonders but not one, to my knowledge, has explained with sufficient clarity why its workability. Our explanations are in need of continuing refinement. What to do? Love the challenge—the formula for perpetual improvement!

Now to the third obstacle. To avoid discouragement, we must speculate on why the dropouts and changeovers are so numerous. Over the past 43 years I have watched them come and go by the thousands: from neophytes to devotees to goners—from seekers to jumping-up-and-down enthusiasts to memories. Should this not depress you and me? Not at all if the reasons be known. Here are three of them:

1. In more than four decades many have gone to their reward.

2. Others have grown above your and my offerings—graced by intellectual and moral ascension. Unless we have ascended far enough ourselves, we know not of their existence. Reflect on those in today’s world who have never heard of Mises, for instance.

3. The good life is a flowing action and, as a consequence, many have discovered a uniqueness they prefer to the study and exposition of how freedom works its wonders. They become contributors to the material welfare of all. Why look upon this as a gain rather than a loss? All would perish were mankind dependent on the production of goods and services by the very few leaders responsible for the turnabouts toward freedom—the good life!

A final question: If one recognizes the value and importance of freedom, how can he best make use of such freedom and contribute to its maintenance and support?

Above all else, recognize that we are here to learn and to enjoy. Learning is most enjoyable when the individual discovers his uniqueness and ardently develops it.

As one sage observed, “Your outgo must equal your intake.” In other words, your further reception of good ideas depends upon your sharing the ideas that come to you with those who care to listen. The more one shares his good ideas, the more he learns. Experience attests to this. Advancement of the good life—freedom of the individual to act creatively as he pleases—is founded on sharing—a flowing action.

Why do I share these ideas? In order to enjoy and to help expand my freedom and yours.

• 1In Roman mythology, Aurora is the goddess of dawn.