Post #199: The Philosopher’s Little Wall

12 July 2026

“Like someone who takes refuge under a little wall from a storm of dust or hail driven by the wind, the philosopher is satisfied if he can somehow lead his present life free from injustice and impious acts and depart from it with good hope, blameless and content.”

—Plato, Republic 496d-e

“What more do the monks expect of me, Ananda? For forty-five years I have taught the Dhamma, making no distinction between inner and outer circles of disciples, and holding nothing back in my fist as a teacher. Now I am eighty years old and worn out. So one more time, Ananda: you should live as islands unto yourselves, with no other refuge than the Dhamma, having put away all hankering after the world.”

—Digha Nikaya 16.2:25–26 (freely rendered)

     It might make more sense of our human condition if those who had made their way, with untold effort, from the dimness of the Cave towards the dazzling sunlight, could count on a warm welcome if they were ever to turn back and bring a ray of that illumination down to their contemporaries in the shadows. Alas, that is hardly the world we live in.

     Erasmus popularized a hopeful ancient saying, going back to the Genesis Rabbah: “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man would be king.” Plato had his doubts and declared it more likely, in Socrates’ name, that whoever upheld justice too scrupulously before the vagaries of the crowd would sooner be killed than heard properly (Apology 31e). Thus the descent back down into the Cave remains as perilous as it is laudable—something not to be undertaken by the faint of heart, or by those who value their mortal coils unduly.

     “What does philosophy have to offer mankind?”—Seneca asked—and allowed himself a hopeful answer: “Counsel! You’re called in to help the unhappy, to aid the shipwrecked, the captive, the sick, the impoverished, and those who must stretch out their necks for the axe. (…) Death is on our trail, and life is fleeting away; teach us something with which to face our troubles! Give us courage to meet hardship; make us calm in the face of the unavoidable; relax the straightened limits of the time that is allotted to us.” (Epistles 48 and 49) A noble vision, to be sure, but one that leaves out a crucial caveat: what if no such advice is ever sought or solicited?

     And why should anyone seek answers from philosophy, especially in her dilapidated modern condition? (For they know not what they do.) As the Stoics were fond of pointing out, just as it would be unreasonable to demand olives from a vine, or grapes from an olive tree (Epictetus, Discourses II.20.19), so it is with human beings. The denizens of the semi-dark, raised on nothing but dim flickers and dancing shadows on the walls of their Cave, can scarcely be expected to esteem a source of light they cannot see—assuming that the messages reaching them from above can even be trusted. Worse yet, who can be sure about which of the ostensible bringers of light are the authentic ones, and which the false prophets and wolves in sheep’s clothing? (The Buddha gave some excellent guidance to the Kalamas on this fraught question, but the surrounding confusions have not thereby been abated much in the world.)

     Not that a philosopher in the worthier sense would withhold from others whatever scraps of wisdom he may have been able to garner, or close his eyes to need, or stop his ears to requests for help. The very joy of wisdom, if it is genuine, ought to lie not least in having something worthwhile to share with others, as Seneca pointed out in his Sixth Epistle: “If wisdom were offered me on the one condition that I should keep it shut away and not divulge it to anyone, I would reject it. There is no enjoying the possession of anything valuable unless one has someone to share it with.”

     Nay more, to carry one another’s burdens where it is feasible, to give your cloak too when someone would have your shirt, or to walk two miles (or give two dollars) for every one that is asked of you—all these are not pious counsels only, but demands of wisdom, though obviously difficult to live by in the world as we know it. A philosopher should not stint more than a sage (though he might hold back a little more than a saint would); but whether anyone will show much interest in his most precious pearls remains another question entirely. And where they remain scantly valued, or perhaps not valued at all, such treasures are certainly not to be cast before anyone’s feet, least of all before the hoofs of the swinish multitude, as Burke put it so graphically.

     That the world needs help rather urgently, now as ever, may seem well-nigh incontrovertible; but whether it also wants help is more than questionable, and whether from you, especially if you bring philosophy along for company, much more so still. Be prepared, then, to be mocked and scorned, not welcomed: “Well, well, what have we here? A real philosopher, is it?” (Epictetus, Encheiridion 22, loosely rendered) Or as Sun Tzu observed about the Tao, if fools did not laugh at it, then how could it be the real thing (Tao Te Ching 41)?

     Who asked you to meddle politics with its myriad poisons and pitfalls in all directions (nos. 122 and 175, etc.)? If you have no great multitudes to preach to, thank your good fortune and remind yourself, in moments of discouragement, that a quiet, peaceful life is a blessing, not something to be regretted. The mournful tale that begins with sermons on a mount and ends on Skull Hill could be told of many sons of God, not just one. So cherish your freedom, heed the little wall, and be grateful for its protective powers. Keep at your work; mind your own business;* let go the fruits of your action, and leave the rest to Dhamma.

*Thus also Socrates in Xenophon’s Memorabilia 2.8.5-6”: “It is not at all easy to do work for which one will not be blamed. For it is difficult to do anything faultlessly, and even if one were able to avoid error, one could hardly escape being judged unfairly. So avoid those who are quick to blame others, seek out the company of the fair-minded, and keep doing whatever work you are able to endure, attending to it as carefully and eagerly as possible.”