Alien vs. Predator Day, The Consolation of Philosophy, and a Certain Election

“So what is the use of power if it is a source of constant anxiety and fear? Like any of us, kings would like to live their lives without that kind of fears, but they cannot. They pride themselves on their strength. But if you see a man who cannot achieve what he wants, do you consider him strong?”
– Lady Philosophy in The consolation of philosophy

I long ago began to call the first Tuesday in November national Alien vs Predator Day, based on the franchise’s seemingly convenient marketing line, “Who wins, we lose.” And so it is again in 2024. Although there are plenty of true believers in both parties who find themselves in joyful celebration or shocked mourning, polls still indicate that for many (most?) of us, neither Of the two options is particularly attractive. If you’re in full party mode, cards on the table: this article may not be for you. For true political partisans who feel blue, there may be some solace here. But I write this primarily as someone for whom mourning has always been the inevitable outcome of this cycle’s campaign season.

I think we live in a pagan and barbaric age. The pragmatism of political brinksmanship has left us with only two parties, both of which I argue are inhumane in the ways he describes in detail. Alan Noble In his book You are not your own. In fact, although each party is polarized against its opponent, each party’s ills are symptoms of a larger shift toward radical independence and self-serving, which on the surface appears to be true but on more fundamental levels is completely at odds with the way we were designed.

In this way, it reminds me of another situation, an era of inhumanity and political cynicism in the final hours of a once great empire. In this chapter (as in many), I find myself returning to the sixth-century Christian philosopher and statesman Boethius. I firmly believe that there is never a bad time to read his greatest works; The consolation of philosophybut it seems more relevant now than it has at most other times. And in its pages, perhaps we can see a way to reflect on what it means to live honestly in an age of social and political barbarism.

Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius was born somewhere between 475 and 480, around the time when the Western Roman Empire finally faded away. During the first decades of his life, he flourished personally despite the social and political chaos of his environment. As a boy, he was adopted by the aristocratic scholar Symmachus, who instilled a love of learning in his young child—until the end, Boethius praised Symmachus’ character and intellect. He would also marry Symmachus’ biological daughter, Rusticiana, with whom he had two sons. Boethius worked hard to integrate the seemingly disparate philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, while also following his teacher and father-in-law Symmachus in defending the Nicene Christian faith. For a long time, his efforts met with worldly success, as he pursued a career in politics that culminated in his appointment to the position of chief of staff under the Ostrogothic Emperor Theodoric.

But things quickly soured for the idealist philosopher and statesman Boethius. Although the specific details remain a bit murky, in going after corruption within the ranks of government, he appears to have drawn the ire of some who benefited from those damaged regimes, and the men who went on to target him. The volatile and capricious Emperor Theodoric turned on Boethius and imprisoned him (although it is uncertain whether he was actually imprisoned or placed under house arrest). There was no reprieve, and he was executed around 526.

But Boethius, in captivity awaiting possible death, wrote one of the masterpieces of Western literature and intellectual thought: The consolation of philosophy. Adopting the form of Plato’s dialogue but interspersing the passages with little flashes of poetry, Boethius was grappling with all the fears that naturally arise from contemplating one’s own mortality. In the book, the fictional Boethius laments his fate by hosting the Muses, who indulge his grief in melodramatic poetry. Lady Philosophy, his former teacher, chases after fickle thoughts and surveys the scene in dismay. She ignores Boethius’s self-pity and assures that she will strengthen his spirits with some strong medicine (cutting the bitterness of the treatment with a spoonful of poetic sugar).

Lady Philosophy’s argument focuses on the question of happiness. The temptation for earthly mortals is to find our happiness in the life-changing good things of this life, but these good things are governed by the unreliable mistress of fortune. In Boethius’s time, luck – luck, chance, serendipity – was conceived as a woman turning a wheel on which we all become unwitting passengers, sometimes at the top but inevitably, eventually crushed at the bottom. Lady Philosophy points out that until recent events, Boethius’s life had been so captivated by Fortune’s standards—good education, good work, good family—that, even on this front, he had little to complain about. But the biggest problem is that he shouldn’t have put his happiness in luck in the first place.

No one wants evil for themselves. We all, the Lady of Philosophy insists, want to live our understanding of the good life, and strive for happiness. She asserts that once we have this good, we would rather keep it than lose it. But this then is Fortune’s problem, that her goods do not fully satisfy us, and we cannot keep them. However, we can recognize them like Well, we have to measure it according to some unlearned criteria. The Lady of Philosophy concludes that all the temporal goods of fortune are shadows of a perfect and unchanging good, a good of which we have intuitive knowledge and which we must constantly seek, whether we realize it or not. This goodness can only be the immutable and unified God. Therefore we find that God himself is good, and therefore his experience is true happiness.

Boethius’s text then explores the implications of this line of reasoning. Because God is the Supreme Being, evil is not merely an escape from goodness, but rather an escape from absolute reality. In a sense, villains don’t really exist, and as such, they don’t deserve our hatred as much as they deserve our pity. God in His divine love, power, and goodness ultimately rules over all things, which He can do because He is not only outside all physical space but outside time as well, and is equally “present” in all moments at once.

Although it is not as famous as some of the other great texts of antiquity, The consolation of philosophy It is perhaps the most influential extra-biblical book in Western civilization for nearly a thousand years. From the medieval world to the Renaissance, it has been read by almost every literate or literate person, and its basic principles have been cited directly, implicitly, or merely assumed by countless texts from the period. Among its English translators were King Alfred the Great, Geoffrey Chaucer, and Queen Elizabeth I. It is only in the last few centuries that its influence has diminished, and yet it has always retained some readership; C.S. Lewis considered it one of The ten most influential books in his lifeIt remains a favorite in great text programs and classical Christian circles.

in FaidoPlato had Socrates claim that “the man who has truly devoted his life to philosophy should be cheerful in the face of death.” This is why consolation The Lady of Philosophy is very disappointed with Boethius at first, because he fails the true test of his calling to be her disciple. While the book’s popularity is partly due to its clear prose, engaging dialogue, and beautiful poetry, I think the other reason is that, in the end, we all know that Boethius put his money where his mouth was. And unlike many other intellectual works, we know this The consolation of philosophy It is very practical, because its author had to live in it to the last full measure.

It is for this reason that I return to Boethius again and again when I encounter difficulties, which in my case are so far far less serious than his own. Theodoric’s decision against him was the ultimate ‘cards on the table’ moment – could he die as he lived? The answer was: “Yes.”

Realistically, once we dig up the reality of our politics from underneath Apocalyptic, polarized rhetoricWe can realize that the personal stakes for most of us are not as high as they were for Boethius. But as Christians, our cards are his cards—if the God we acknowledge is real and if he is the God we claim him to be, then Boethius’s consolation must be ours. Left-leaning or moderate Christians may now feel shocked, mourning, or in denial, even as our conservative brothers were four years ago. But this oscillation is exactly what should be expected from Fortune, even as Lady Philosophy points out. It is likely that, sooner or later, the wheel will turn again, and for those whose happiness is tied to temporal things, celebration and lamentation will once again be reversed.

What if the consequences are more serious – major national or global distress? Well, that would make our case closer to that of Boethius. He lived in a world surrounded by people uneducated in virtue, and could only watch as his idealistic dreams of creating a space governed by the principles of reason, philosophy, and faith were shattered—and it cost him his life. He died at the hands of the state, a victim of power politics as Europe collapsed into an isolationist contest of barbaric tribalism.

I do not know that Boethius would have regretted his attempt to reform the Gothic Roman Empire; He certainly would have resumed his work if given the opportunity, seeking an educated government that seeks justice. It is not wrong to seek the good of our land, nor to be sad when our efforts seem in vain. But the words of Our Lady of Philosophy bear as much a reminder to the Christian who looks forward to a dreary system governed by force and passions, as they are to his fellow believer who rejoices in the present turning of the wheel of fortune. We can and should do our job; However, our ultimate happiness can never lie in the vicissitudes of the history in which we live, because those goods will be stripped from us, sooner or later.

The Lady of Philosophy reminded Boethius that the wicked are those who multiply in the sinful forms of good life. Their strength is illusory and fleeting, and therefore a form of weakness, because they cannot succeed in their true goal – happiness. Facing his execution, Boethius was able to assert that the man who had ordered his death deserved not his hatred but his pity. This also serves as a vital reminder in the midst of our era of polarization. I would prefer that we not view those on the other end of the political spectrum as enemies, but even if we did, these are the same people we are told To love and pray for.

I think I need to have more conversations with Lady Philosophy before I can begin treatment and be able to face the future with the same peace with which Boethius appeared. But again, I can go back to The consolation of philosophy To be reminded of my true home, the source of my true happiness, even when the world and the walls around me seem dark.