The Good Capitalist
I update the posts on here with precious infrequency. As always, the problem is not a lack of ideas, but rather too many, and too little mental effort on my part to string them together in a way that the reader might find palatable.
I've been reading a good deal of philosophy as of late. Much of it lives up to its reputation (for better or worse) in that it is lofty-headed, uninterpretable long-windedness that one might struggle to apply to daily life. The ancient Greek philosophers were so adamant that philosophy should be practical and help a person lead a better, happier life that they would likely be horrified by more comtemporary stuff like the lengthy rantings of Kant about morality that are impossible to comprehend unless you have a doctorate in the field and about 10 years to kill.
Adam Smith is best known for documenting the ostensible benefits of capitalism to society, as well as being its most well-known advocate. A member of the Scotish Enlightenment, he was actually concerned with the plight of the poor. He wanted to answer the question: what system of economics would do the most to alleviate poverty? Capitalism, as a new force that was replacing the feudalism that preceded it, was his answer to that question, which seemed to be benefiting society in his own day.
Prior to writing his more popular "Wealth of Nations", Smith wrote a treatise about human morality entitled "The Theory of Moral Sentiments" in which he expounds on the nature of virtue innate to human beings. He describes the "impartial spectator" innate to almost all people (perhaps not sociopaths), which is that little voice that crops up in your head when you're trying to decide on a moral dilemma, and that attempts to persuade you to take the correct course. Just about anyone reading this will know exactly what I mean by this. Socrates called it his "daemon". We call it conscience.
The book isn't as thunderous and weighty as it might sound. In the early pages, Smith talks about the various ways in which human beings have empathy for each other. We see someone in pain and feel their pain, to the extent that we have experienced it ourselves or can imagine it. If you feel yourself disconnected from your fellow human creatures, reading through the book is actually a pretty good means of weaving yourself back into the tangled threads of humanity.
And, like a lot of philosophy, some of it borders on self-help in that it offers prescriptive advice. Lest it be thought that what was going on in Smith's own day did not resemble our own, here is what he says to those who might find themselves in the throes of despair, which I share here in conclusion because I wish I had found this advice many years ago (and, perhaps, had the gall to put into practice):
"Are you in adversity? Do not mourn in the darkness of solitude, do not regulate your sorrow according to the indulgent sympathy of your intimate friends; return, as soon as possible, to the daylight of the world and of society. Live with strangers, with those who know nothing, or care nothing about your misfortune; do not even shun the company of enemies; but give yourself the pleasure of mortifying their malignant joy, by making them feel how little you are affected by their calamity, and how much you are above it."
I've been reading a good deal of philosophy as of late. Much of it lives up to its reputation (for better or worse) in that it is lofty-headed, uninterpretable long-windedness that one might struggle to apply to daily life. The ancient Greek philosophers were so adamant that philosophy should be practical and help a person lead a better, happier life that they would likely be horrified by more comtemporary stuff like the lengthy rantings of Kant about morality that are impossible to comprehend unless you have a doctorate in the field and about 10 years to kill.
Adam Smith is best known for documenting the ostensible benefits of capitalism to society, as well as being its most well-known advocate. A member of the Scotish Enlightenment, he was actually concerned with the plight of the poor. He wanted to answer the question: what system of economics would do the most to alleviate poverty? Capitalism, as a new force that was replacing the feudalism that preceded it, was his answer to that question, which seemed to be benefiting society in his own day.
Prior to writing his more popular "Wealth of Nations", Smith wrote a treatise about human morality entitled "The Theory of Moral Sentiments" in which he expounds on the nature of virtue innate to human beings. He describes the "impartial spectator" innate to almost all people (perhaps not sociopaths), which is that little voice that crops up in your head when you're trying to decide on a moral dilemma, and that attempts to persuade you to take the correct course. Just about anyone reading this will know exactly what I mean by this. Socrates called it his "daemon". We call it conscience.
The book isn't as thunderous and weighty as it might sound. In the early pages, Smith talks about the various ways in which human beings have empathy for each other. We see someone in pain and feel their pain, to the extent that we have experienced it ourselves or can imagine it. If you feel yourself disconnected from your fellow human creatures, reading through the book is actually a pretty good means of weaving yourself back into the tangled threads of humanity.
And, like a lot of philosophy, some of it borders on self-help in that it offers prescriptive advice. Lest it be thought that what was going on in Smith's own day did not resemble our own, here is what he says to those who might find themselves in the throes of despair, which I share here in conclusion because I wish I had found this advice many years ago (and, perhaps, had the gall to put into practice):
"Are you in adversity? Do not mourn in the darkness of solitude, do not regulate your sorrow according to the indulgent sympathy of your intimate friends; return, as soon as possible, to the daylight of the world and of society. Live with strangers, with those who know nothing, or care nothing about your misfortune; do not even shun the company of enemies; but give yourself the pleasure of mortifying their malignant joy, by making them feel how little you are affected by their calamity, and how much you are above it."