G. C. Jeffers

Dear ___________________,

I am tremendously glad to hear that you have been changed by our exchange of letters. I have also been changed in many ways, not least by my own clearer articulation of why I do what I do. Before I wax sentimental (something I am prone to do), I wanted to briefly answer the final question you asked. I think it bears repeating verbatim: “Why, if all of this education business is so difficult and requires such striving only to find oneself admitting with Socrates that we don’t really know anything, should we pursue it? Why not abandon the project altogether and turn to more practical or pleasurable adventures?” Now, I am not trying to be difficult here, but this question cannot be answered unless we tease out some of the latent assumptions within the question. In order to tease this out, I have chosen to write a dialogue (modeled on the dialogues of Plato). I hope you enjoy it.

Erasmus: Good morning young man. Where are you headed?

Young man: I am headed to work, sir.

Erasmus: But you are of school age. Has some calamity come upon your family requiring you to abandon your education in the material service of your family?

Young man: No, sir. I have simply decided that I do not enjoy schooling, but that I do enjoy honest work and the pleasures that can come from a day’s labor.

Erasmus: I see. What do you mean by honest work?

Young man: I suppose I mean work that accomplishes something and is compensated fairly.

Erasmus: How do you know whether you are compensated fairly?

Young man: Like everyone else does. I compare my wages to the wages of others of similar abilities and similar jobs. If I fall in what I consider to be the average or normal range, then I assume I am being compensated fairly.

Erasmus: And why do you believe that an average wage is a fair one?

Young man: I don’t understand the question.

Erasmus: I mean, is it not possible that every one of you is being paid less or more than you deserve?

Young man: I suppose . . .

Erasmus:  And, if that is the case, could it not be true that you do not necessarily have a vantage point from which you can evaluate the fairness of your wages?

Young man: No, I disagree. I am in exactly the position to know whether my wages are fair. After all, I am the one putting in the work. I wouldn’t do it if I were underpaid.

Erasmus: Of course you have your instincts, but how would you know if you were underpaid? How do you know what kind of wage your work deserves? What if you have simply been deceived?

Young man: I don’t know. I guess it is possible.

Erasmus: Ok, then let’s go back to the second part of your reason for not being in school. You said it was to earn the pleasures that come from a day’s labor.

Young man: Yes

Erasmus: What pleasures are you talking about?

Young man: Oh, you know, the knowledge of doing something useful.

Erasmus: Is that it?

Young man: And, I suppose, the pleasure in being able to afford the things I want to buy.

Erasmus: Ah, I see. And these things–being useful, buying pleasurable goods and services–is only possible if one does an honest day’s work?

Young man: Not quite. Pleasurable goods and services can be purchased by others, but the right to enjoy them rests only with those who do an honest day’s work.

Erasmus: That is very interesting. What do you mean by “the right to enjoy them?”

Young man: I suppose that I mean that pleasure can be deserved or not deserved, and that those who do useful and productive work deserve pleasure.

Erasmus: I see. And how do you define “productive” and “pleasure?”

Young man: The same as everyone, I guess. Pleasure is what feels good, right? And being productive is doing something that results in good things for others.

Erasmus: But what is your basis for thinking that pleasure and being productive are worthy goals?

Young man: I don’t know. I guess it is common sense, right? Do you not think they are worthy goals?

Erasmus: Oh no, I agree that they are. I am just interested in why they are. And, I am further interested in why being productive causes one to deserve pleasure.

Young man: Well I’m not interested. I don’t really care. And I am going to be late to work.

Erasmus: Wait, wait. That is not the right attitude. These things matter.

Young man: Why do they matter?

Erasmus: Because what one decides about these matters may change the direction of one’s life.

Young man: In what way?

Erasmus: Imagine that, upon reflection, you concluded that “being productive,” while good, is not necessary for one to deserve pleasure.

Young man: Go on.

Erasmus: Would you still try to accomplish a day of honest work before seeking out pleasure?

Young man: I don’t know. It is difficult to imagine what I would think in a hypothetical situation.

Erasmus: Of course, but isn’t it at least possible that you would behave differently than you do today?

Young man: Yes, it is possible.

Erasmus: In which case, these things matter.

Young man: I suppose they do in some sense.

Erasmus: Shouldn’t they matter to you?

Young man: I suppose, since these things affect my life, though I don’t really feel like it.

Erasmus: Why don’t you feel like it?

Young man: Because doing all of this thinking and reflecting is difficult, and by nature I don’t like difficult things.

Erasmus: Is there anything you do on a regular basis that requires particular skill?

Young man: Most definitely. I love to play basketball.

Erasmus: Why are you willing to do the difficult work for the sake of succeeding at basketball?

Young man: Because the payoff is so good. I love how I feel after a game, I love the camaraderie, I love to be commended for my abilities. And besides, there is something valuable about knowing that I can endure difficult things.

Erasmus: Precisely. You have hit the nail on the head. Surely the same is true with the life the mind.

Young man: That makes sense.

Erasmus: So, are you going to make any changes?

Young man: Perhaps. Let me give it some time.

Erasmus: Very good. I will leave you with this: According to Socrates, the great teacher of Athens, “the unexamined life is not worth living.”

Faithfully yours,
Mr. Jeffers