29 Jan WHAT A MAN HAS (Α.SCHOPENHAUER) | Part A’
Epicurus, the great teacher of happiness, has correctly and finely divided human needs into three classes.
First there are the natural and necessary needs which, if they are not satisfied, cause pain. Consequently, they are only victus et amictus (food and clothing) and are easy to satisfy.
Then we have those that are natural yet not necessary, that is, the needs for sexual satisfaction, although in the account of Laertius Epicurus does not state this; (generally I here reproduce his teaching in a somewhat better and more finished form). These needs are more difficult to satisfy.
Finally, there are those that are neither natural nor necessary, the needs for luxury, extravagance, pomp, and splendour, which are without end and very difficult to satisfy.
It is difficult, if not impossible, to define the limit of our reasonable desires in respect of possessions. For a man’s satisfaction in regard to this rests not on an absolute but a merely relative amount, namely the relation between his claims and his possessions. Therefore, to consider possessions alone is just as meaningless as to take the numerator of a fraction without the denominator, A man to whom it has never occurred to claim certain good things, does not miss them at all and is perfectly satisfied without them; whereas another, who possesses a hundred times more than he, feels unhappy because he lacks the very thing he is claiming.
In this respect, every man also has his own horizon of what is possible and attainable for him and his claims extend as far as this. When any object lying within this horizon presents itself so that he can count on its attainment, he feels happy; on the other hand, he feels unhappy when difficulties appear and deprive him of the prospect. What lies beyond this horizon has no effect on him at all. Thus the great possessions of the rich do not worry the poor; on the other hand, if the wealthy man’s plans fail, he is not consoled by the many things he already possesses.
After the loss of wealth or position, our habitual frame of mind proves to be not very different from what is was previously, when once the first grief and sorrow are overcome. The reason for this is that, after fate has reduced the amount of our possessions, we ourselves now diminish to an equal extent that of our claims. In the case of a misfortune, however, this operation is really painful; after it has been performed, the pain becomes less and less and in the end is no longer felt; the wound has healed up. Conversely, in the case of good fortune, our claims are pressed ever higher and are extended; here is to be found the delight. But it lasts only until this operation is entirely performed. We become accustomed to the increased measure of our claims and are indifferent to the possessions that correspond to it.
People are often reproached because their desires are directed mainly to money and they are fonder of it than of anything else. Yet it is natural and even inevitable for them to love that which, as an untiring Proteus, is ready at any moment to convert itself into the particular object of our fickle desires and manifold needs. Thus every other blessing can satisfy only one desire and one need; for instance, food is good only for the hungry, wine for the healthy, medicine for the sick, a fur coat for winter, women for youth, and so on.
Consequently, all these are only, that is to say, only relatively good. Money alone is the absolutely good thing because it meets not merely one need in concreto, but needs generally in abstracto.
People who originally have no means but are ultimately able to earn a great deal, through whatever talents they may possess, almost always come to think that these are permanent capital and that what they gain through them is interest. Accordingly, they do not put aside a part of their earnings to form a permanent capital, but spend their money as fast as they earn it. But they are then often reduced to poverty because their earnings decrease or come to an end after their talent, which was of a transitory nature, is exhausted, as happens, for example, in the case of almost all the fine arts; or because it could be brought to bear only under a particular set of circumstances that has ceased to exist.
Therefore what they earn should become their capital, whereas they recklessly regard it as mere interest and thus end in ruin.
On the other hand, those who possess inherited wealth at least know at once and quite correctly what is capital and what interest. And so most of them will endeavour to secure their capital and in no case will they encroach on it; in fact, where possible, they will put by at least an eighth of the interest to meet future contingencies; thus they usually remain well off.
Parerga & Paralipomena
Arthur Schopenhauer
