📨 Lucky's Letters #8: Seeking Progress

Lucky takes a stand against the abstract.

Don’t forget: If you miss a letter from Lucky, or want to return to a previous one, you can find them all here.

---

Dear Lucky,

I have recently become interested in the application of ancient philosophy.

The wisdom of the Greek schools resonates with me, and I’m in the process of devouring every bit of material I can find.

I’m acquiring a lot of knowledge along the way, but as I said, I’m interested in the application of what I’m learning about. And, by extension, I’m interested in thinking and acting more virtuously.

What I’d like to know is how I measure this.

How do I know for sure if I’m getting better at “doing philosophy”?

It seems too abstract a concept. It’s not something about which I can collect scientific data or track on a smartwatch, is it?

Regards,
Seeking Progress

---

Dearest of all those who are seeking progress,

You’re so right to juxtapose the abstract with the practical.

Complex theories and difficult inquiries have their place, but are they very conducive to achieving maximum happiness on earth? I think that’s for each individual to decide for themselves.

I’ll tell you a secret, though: I was halfway through my morning tea when I decided they aren’t.

I always make big decisions while holding a mug, by the way. There’s something about a warm beverage that convinces me I’m onto something profound.

In any case, many people decide that philosophy, all of it, is a frighteningly abstract subject and down tools before ever starting work on it. Or they go ahead and blindly follow abstract theories as if following a ghost through a wall and end up confused and with painful headaches.

This morning, Pat the Postie told me she measures her progress by how many steps it takes to finish her delivery round. “Some days, fewer steps mean efficiency,” she said. “Other days they mean I’ve forgotten a street.”

I’m sure there’s a lesson somewhere in that interesting observation.

Your phrase “doing philosophy” captures it. It’s a pursuit that impacts our daily lives. Practical philosophy is to mental hygiene what brushing teeth is to dental hygiene. The major advantage of philosophy, of course, is that it’s still possible to develop wisdom while toothless.

Seriously, though: Philosophy is something we have to try with the resolution that to not try is to die. To make progress, we have to do. Otherwise, what’s the point?

Thought is not enough. Ideas conceived, even words spoken, are not enough. The act is where it’s at, the deed where it’s done, the movement where it’s made. “It” in the end is character—who we are and were based on what we do and did.

Experiences and memories, too, are born of what we do. Regret is born of what we don’t: “I didn’t floss, and now I must endure the inconvenience and ignominy of root-canal work.”

By doing, by enacting the practical, we’re taking more responsibility for ourselves.

We’re taking up the opportunity to live more freely. To have full control over our thoughts, intentions, and actions. Through continued learning, we can develop the wisdom to guide these thoughts, intentions, and actions. That’s freedom.

Want to hear some real abstract philosophy, SP? Try this close paraphrase of something Bertrand Russell once wrote:

The argument has been made that our knowledge of the future mirroring the past is justified because the future has consistently turned into the past and has always exhibited a resemblance to it. Thus, one could argue we possess indirect experience of the future—specifically, of events that were once anticipated but are now part of the past, which we might call “past futures.” However, this argument assumes the conclusion it seeks to establish. While we have empirical evidence of “past futures,” we lack any basis for claims regarding “future futures.” The critical question is whether “future futures” will conform to the pattern of “past futures.” This cannot be determined solely from the observation of “past futures.” As a result, we are compelled to search for a more fundamental principle to justify the expectation that the future will follow the same laws as the past.

Now, I’m not criticizing Russell for the above. It was written for its own purpose. I’m just not sure what it was.

But it highlights the point we’re making here. This is probably what many modern people imagine when they think of philosophy.

At this point, I’m in need of a biscuit. Bertrand Russell can do that to a person. I keep custard creams and bourbons for such emergencies—crunchy, sweet, reassuringly uncomplicated. Everything abstract philosophy isn’t.