October 23, 2006

Dear Colleague,

    Here are some wise words from Epictetus (ca. 60-120) and Seneca (ca. 4 BC-AD 65). Epictetus tells the following story. A senator came to his friend, a Stoic philosopher, and said in a trembling voice: "I have terrible news. I just received a command from Nero, telling me that I am to act in one of his plays.You know how his plays are meant to humiliate. I am asked to play the part of a whore! If I beg to be excused, he will have me beheaded, that's for sure. So, friend, you are the philosopher. You tell me what I should do." The philosopher said, "You should choose life and agree to be in his play. And, by the way, I received an identical command from the emperor." The senator asked, "And what was your answer?" The philosopher's reply, "I chose death." Surprised, the senator said, "Why did you give me one advice and yourself another?" The philosopher answered, "Unlike you, I never had to decide."

    There you are. The more important decisions in life never require a self-debate of pros and cons. You just know what's right for you. When I look at a big menu in the restaurant, I have to go through an agony of rational calculation. But when I was confronted with a choice between staying in Minnesota, a university I came to love, and coming to Wisconsin, an unknown, I knew right away what my decision would be. In doing my research on "Human Goodness," I am struck by how easily some good people make up their mind to do the right thing, even if it means certain death for them and possibly even for their family. Equally striking are some other good people who unhesitatingly put their family first, an ethical position both Confucius and Darwin would have approved. Unfortunate are those who just don't seem to know, and who therefore have to set up columns of "dos" and "don'ts" to help them. Whatever their decision, one thing is certain: it is no more rational than that of those who know right away.

     As for Seneca, I am impressed by the following piece of wisdom. "Some people become highly indignant and complain about the pride of their superiors because they did not have time to give them an audience when they wanted one. But can any one dare to complain about another's pride when he himself never has time for himself?" I have never really thought of myself as being divided between petitioner and grantor. My soul in distress begs my worldly self for a few minute of its time, but the answer is always, "I am too busy right now." Why does my soul never feel offended?

Best wishes,

Yi-Fu

P.S. Erratum. In "Dear Colleague," dated October 9, I mistakenly attributed "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" to H. G. Wells. The correct attribution is Robert Louis Stevenson. Sorry about that.