I make an effort to read On Moral Ends every year, or at least revisit sections of it now and then. A treatise on ethics, and one of the most important texts in ancient philosophy by one of Rome’s greatest minds. Raphael Woolf‘s translation is considered the most accessible English version available, making for a clear and concise presentation of the text’s philosophical ideas. Julia Annas‘s introduction and notes set the texts up nicely, providing the necessary context for the reader.
Like with The Scapegoat, I’m going to forego my usual two-minute “This book is AWESOME!” type of post in favour of a more detailed essay about the text, and how one might figure its lessons and insights in this day and age. So, once again, I invite you to come in and sit down for a spell, as I oversimplify the works of a great philosopher.
A little bit of background information on the man himself: Born on 3 January 106 BCE, Marcus Tullius Cicero was a Roman lawyer and statesman. Coming from a wealthy family, he was educated in Greek, Latin, and the teachings of Greco-Roman historians, philosophers, poets and playwrights. He used this education to bring the works of such authors to the Roman people. Heavily influenced by Philo of Larissa, his interest in all things literary played a significant role in shaping his life and career in service to the Roman Empire. His philosophical ideas and oratory skills were such that even his enemies would view him as a good, upstanding man that deserved respect. He served during a time when Rome was in the midst of war and the dictatorship of Julius Caesar. Following the assassination of Caesar, Cicero became an enemy of Mark Antony. In a heated power struggle, he attacked him in a series of public speeches, going as far as to call him a “drink-sodden, sex-ridden wreck.” Antony ordered his soldiers to execute Cicero. Cicero did not resist, baring his neck to his killers in a gesture to ease their task.
He met his end, but his works and skills as an orator are remembered.
And when you read his works, it doesn’t feel like a man pontificating on morality (I believe that’s Epictetus‘s shtick). Rather, it feels more like sitting down with him for a good conversation at one of his country estates.
I have been teaching English and Humanities in Victorian schools for close to nine years, and one of my favourite subjects to teach is Philosophy. Whatever level I’m teaching, everything seems to start with the question, “What is the good life?” Gorgias by Plato and Beyond Good and Evil by Nietzsche have been staples in the curriculum since I was a student. These texts make fertile ground for discussion, and few things bring me more joy than to hear the students give their takes on the ideas presented by philosophers and non-philosophers alike. It’s a beautiful thing.
I only wish Cicero was more widely studied in our schools, though I try to invoke him every time I get the chance.
On Moral Ends is a collection of several dialogues, having to do with the prominent schools of philosophy of his time: Epicureanism, Stoicism, and the Platonism of Antiochus of Ascalon. A common theme in these works is Cicero’s criticism of the theory of hedonism, the notion that the good life is the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain. He goes pretty hard on Epicureans, while being a little more charitable to the other schools. For Cicero, the good life was one of being morally good. That is, the relationship between one’s quality of life and the ethical choices they make.
Cicero may be another dead white man, but he knew his stuff. In fact, I think his teachings are more relevant now than ever before.
But then, there’s the question of how one defines ethics. What are your morals? When I did my undergraduate degree at La Trobe, the term “moral relativism” came up quite a bit. Students, tutors, and professors alike would claim to be moral relativists themselves, myself included. The ideas, issues, and values we hold so dear are not inherent to humans as a species, but social constructs that serve to benefit society, or the interests of whoever’s in power, relative to one’s culture. I don’t disagree with this. Even so, many would abandon any pretence of relativism if some hot-button issue came up: Israel/Palestine, female genital mutilation, or funding cuts to the LTU School of Humanities and Social Sciences. Not so relative when it comes to something close to home, it would seem.
I don’t know if Cicero is what you’d call a moral absolutist, which is held as contrary to relativism. He very well could be; he held that there exists a simple and practical set of universal ethics to live by, pertaining to family, friendship, and duties. Living up to commitments, obligations, and a general sense of right and wrong. If not in business, then in life. If not in service to others, then for oneself.
The more I read On Moral Ends, it crystallises something I have felt for a long time:
Modern society has no soul.
I don’t mean “soul” in the religious sense of the physical body and the life-giving spirit of God, but simply the self, or the essence of a person or thing. And while Cicero’s arguments might be difficult to prescribe as a “model to live by,” I find myself becoming increasingly jaded with moral relativism as a mental model. I can’t help but think the ideas presented by Cicero are at least worth considering. And, that modern society by contrast has no soul, no substance, and no moral compass, because individually and collectively we have lost sight of any commonly accepted notion of “good.”
In our society, we rarely speak of morality. If we do, it is usually in some disfigured form. Policy wonks, corporate executives, theoreticians, bankers, most academics and journalists, and most if not all of people in the entertainment industry tend to invoke their sense of morality as a political cudgel, as a means of manipulating others, usually to accomplish some sort of external goal. Separate persons and groups are filed neatly into us-versus-them categories, and any notion or morality is simply weaponised and used to guilt and shame the other side into compliance. Whatever good might come of this, it is generally to signal status and remind everyone who’s in charge. There are many factors that contribute to this, one of them being when philosophy is divorced from reality, and the deeper question of what constitutes a “good life” is confined to our classrooms, lecture theatres and tutorial rooms.
Take a look at the recent US election. Those who had enough of Biden/Harris and their support of America’s forever war in the Middle East were labelled as antisemites, terrorist sympathisers, or far-right activists, even though that was rarely the case. Similarly, those who advocate for medicare for all, universal basic income, and are generally worried about Donald Trump’s economic and social policies are associated with communism, anarchy, or some other mutation of the “woke left.” Again, even though that’s rarely the case. Out-of-work labourers are labelled as “uneducated” or “entitled” just because they want something resembling a halfway decent quality of life. Women who want the right to govern themselves and their bodies are dismissed as “hysterical” and “batshit feminists.” And so on.
Modern “morality” is incoherent at best, and utterly antithetical to a morally good life in the philosophical sense.
Think back to ancient civilisations such as Greece, Rome, Egypt, or China. As distant as each of those civilisations were from one another, they did share common notions of what constituted a morally good life. What a good man is; what the good life is. The Code of Hammurabi, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, the Bible and the teachings of Christ, the Quran and the teachings of Muhammad, Laozi, Cicero, and others illustrated this, whether by example or through the written and spoken word.
In modern society, the notion of “common good” is associated with a hegemonic worldview. “Living your truth” is now the norm, even though it tends to be code for “Do whatever the fuck I want, consequences be damned.” On an individual level, this is passable, provided what you’re doing isn’t negatively affecting others. When it comes to people with broader political ambitions, that’s when problems arise and multiply. I would argue that, by definition, modern society is inherently selfish.
Social media is a good example. Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok purportedly connect people, yet we are not interacting in the conventional sense when we use them. These sites and apps thrive, not because they connect people, but because they appeal to our vanity and feed people’s egos. Our media ecosystem is wired to whip people up into a frenzy, and this in turn preps people to be angry throughout every election, or every time the wind changes. Capitalism has devolved from a system where producer and consumer have equity, to a system predicated on growth for the sake of growth, a need for instant gratification, and “What’s in it for me?”
None of these platforms have connected people in any meaningful way; if anything we are more isolated from each other than ever before, reduced to a purely animalistic state. Offline, we’ve even outsourced the most basic tasks, like ordering at a restaurant to a QR code on your table, so we will never have to live through the inconvenience of interacting with a flesh-and-blood human being ever again.
Some questions to ask of the self:
What’s in store for the future?
Am I being responsible?
Am I only seeing what I want and looking past what I need, out of ego or entitlement?
How can I serve something larger than myself?
Or, at the very least:
What kind of environment am I creating through my words and actions?
For me, these are not idle questions. I might carry myself with a bit of an attitude, as if I were aloof or above it all, but underneath all of that, I am acutely aware that my words and actions have an impact on my family, friends, students, and colleagues. The students might not be fully developed, but they’re far from stupid. They’re watching the adults in the room. They’re listening. And they learn more by example than they do by instruction. If you are in any sort of position of authority, people are going to look to you with high expectations, regardless of whether you think they do or should.
Part of this is informed by my reading of Cicero and other philosophers. But it’s also being on the downhill of my thirties, internalising that I don’t have all the time on this earth, and thinking more about what I’m leaving when my time is done. I can’t not think seriously about my words and actions, and the examples and consequences they may bring. What business would I have being around children if I didn’t have something resembling a congruent, moral worldview?
Cicero coined the term Summum Bonum, which is Latin for “the highest good.” Marcus Aurelius mentions “the common good” something like eighty times in his Meditations, and the Stoics held that goodness lay in the cultivation of four cardinal virtues:
- Courage
- Temperance
- Justice
- Wisdom
Cicero was big on these virtues, writing about them extensively in all of his philosophical texts. He took issue with how the Epicureans found these virtues worthy only in the context of the pursuit of pleasure, or simply when they only apply to one’s own self-interest. These virtues don’t simply happen, they are the product of a lifetime of practice. And they have been slipping from the view of modern society, if they haven’t vanished already. Too often we see people base virtues such as wisdom and justice on the truth of convenience, if nothing else.
Look at the rise of far-right movements in the U.S., Europe, and Australia. Conservatism (a la Edmund Burke) once stood for market regulations, trade policy, social hierarchy, law and order, incremental social progress, and individual rights. Take as many shots at it as you want, but at least it was rooted in something resembling a philosophical worldview. As a lowercase-c conservative myself, I look at populist leaders like Donald Trump, the neocon warmongers of America’s Democratic Party, as well as our own Liberal and Labor parties, and wonder, what exactly is “conservative” about these people? As far as I am concerned, they have vandalised their parties and their support bases.
Perhaps one could interpret these ancient virtues as a set of heuristics we can optimise for the long term, rather than the short term? I might just be one person. But I’d like to think I’m building towards something, even if it’s just giving the kids a little push in this or that direction. I’m not saying I do this perfectly, but I try. This is important, because the current generations (Z and Alpha) have all the potential you could imagine, but they’ve also inherited a world that is very chaotic, and the odds are stacked against them. Most don’t seem to know what to build towards. It’s scary, and they deserve better.
So if we keep going the way we’re going, where short-term thinking and the gratification of the individual are held above all else, and the good life is one of hedonism and growth for the sake of growth, what will the future look like? World War III? Technocracy? Riots every time the wind changes? Societal collapse? Some other unspecified form of global chaos? Common notions of good are being ignored, and the future isn’t looking too bright.
Maybe it’s time to see the return of such common notions of ethics, of those four cardinal virtues–courage, temperance, justice, and wisdom. It might seem hard to do, when an election doesn’t go as you hoped, or when you’re facing social and economic uncertainty. I would say such conditions make it all the more important, to have a simple set of ethics as the work of one’s life. Because if we just throw our hands in the air and say “fuck it,” then our options will be even fewer.
The question is, where do we find another Cicero?
Lawrence Deveney 