A Letter To A Friend (On Hedonism)

I was thinking about you the other hour and how by degrees of consideration I have begun to understand the pressure you once and possibly still do feel to achieve greatly, and how you consequently personally desire to do greatly, regardless perhaps of the impracticalities of such desires. I considered my own situation, as one must do in order to understand another, with the express desire to pinpoint the source of this endless undercurrent of guilt that courses through me in the knowledge that I am not doing all that I should be. I thought of Sartre who says that feelings such as guilt, anxiety, and apprehension presuppose the Other, that is: other people, and how if the consideration of the Other was absent, so too would anxiety, guilt, or apprehension. To me, at least compared to you, it always seemed to me that I do my A levels and I study what I study for myself, and that my grades reflect myself and that the sphere encompasses me and me only. But that was naturally, clearly, and distinctly folly. The truth is, guilt presupposes the Other, and the guilt I feel regarding not doing a sufficient amount of work isn't a guilt borne of myself in a sphere that encompasses only me; it is a guilt borne of the expectations of others. Naturally, I still maintain that I primarily study for myself and for that which I extract personally from such endeavours, but it becomes starkly apparent that that cannot be all. The guilt arises from the desire to impress others, and the apprehension that one might fall short; remove the Other and no longer have you guilt or anxiety, and you're left only with a self-spirited pursuit. That indeed is an ideal situation, but it is not; it simply is not the state of affairs. And so I thought of you the other hour and considered how you -- you with your greater and more natural propensity for succeeding in the academic sphere -- you have greater expectations from other people, both friends and family, and how this is why you so desire to do exceedingly well. One wonders, though, which pursuit is more noble: the self-spirited or the anxiety-laden? The self-spirited is pure, but the anxiety-laden has reference to other people, and what is life but not the prolonged discourse with the rest of humanity? What, any way, is the self-spirited pursuit? Is writing a self-spirited pursuit? Surely we feel guilt about not writing occasionally, and whence is that guilt derived? Surely the consideration of the Other? We may write primarily for ourselves, but secondarily we want to contribute to the prolonged discourse with humanity. But what does this mean regarding guilt? Is guilt necessary and good? But guilt produces such brutish sentiments in the chest; how can such a thing be good?

The question we must answer is: is it possible for something to feel terrible and still be good? Can there exist that disparity? Or is it more simple: that which feels good is good? Is such a hedonism accurate? It feels inaccurate, but it also feels unnatural to deny that that which makes you feel bad is bad. So: what?

If we think in hedonistic terms, i.e. pleasure is good, and the resentable feelings are bad, then guilt is clearly bad, and we must do all we can to reduce our feeling of guilt, and do all we can to maximise feelings of pleasure. 

But if there is a different, more subtle answer, then the guilt may be necessary and good, and perhaps we have to (first understand and then) embrace it.

But which?

It's funny because I want to go to university, firstly to enrich my life, consequently so that enrichment can better my writing, and secondly so that my writing improves and becomes more substantial, thus being more likely to get published, and so allowing me to be more likely to have discourse with a wider range of people.

Why do I want to do any of those things? Surely because they rouse pleasurable sentiments within, right? So it seems as though hedonism is correct, so far. But let's return to guilt. Guilt is the negative sentiment that arises when one feels as though they are failing other people (this may be manifest in the feeling that you are failing yourself, but look deeply and you'll see it's other people, as discussed earlier). So guilt is directly connected to this same discourse with other people.

So what makes feeling guilty about not studying different from having fun with friends? Well, I suppose guilt is an absence of pleasure, while fun is the presence of it. So guilt is negative and fun is positive. So then perhaps guilt is a reminder that one should strive for fun? They all point towards the hedonistic principle, that pleasure is good and discomfort is bad. So guilt is discomfort, so it is bad, and one must strive to rid oneself of it. But guilt is always specifically geared towards something -- in this case not doing enough. Is the only way to rid oneself of that guilt, then, to do enough? It is one way, but surely there are others? Or are there not? One can drink. Alcohol is a depressant and lowers anxiety, and allows you to have more fun usually. One can attempt to escape in fictions which remove you from your own sentiments and put you into those of other, distant characters. But those are temporary, are they not? Guilt is a personal sentiment as much as fun is; and all personal sentiments, it seems, exist to make yourself feel good. Why would there exist personal sentiments within that are geared specifically to make you feel awful? Thus, sadness is a reminder to be happy; guilt is a reminder to seek what you desire; and so on with all negative emotions towards their positive counterparts.

It's easy to attempt to dispel guilt with temporary methods, but like any natural function, or any function at all, guilt is supposed to do something, and what it is doing is telling you to fix specifically what it is you feel guilty about. 

So yes, guilt is bad, and one should hope not to have it, but guilt is a function, and one must use it appropriately. 

So it seems, after all, the anxiety-laden pursuit IS the self-spirited pursuit, and anxiety is simply a function within it. We care about not disappointing our family and friends because of that inherent hedonistic principle within: it gives us PLEASURE to please them, and so it is good.