Reap What You Sow: An Ontological Apology
Transcript of Reap What You Sow: An Ontological Apology
1. Work, a history:
Charles C Ebbet’s photograph: “Lunch atop a Skyscraper” is perhaps one of the most iconic
images of the 20th century. It depicts 11 men sitting atop a steel beam 69 floors above the New York City
skyline. You can tell even from across the room that these men’s hands are dirty, their fingers calloused.
They have healthy drinking habits and command an army of raucous language. One minute they’re
hanging by a rope forming together the skeleton of steel beams and the next joking about who will buy
the first round after shift’s end. These are men who hold each other to an incredibly high standard of
craftsmanship, who root out incompetence like foxes to quarry, hard fallible men, with strong work
ethics and the willpower to see that work through, no matter the cost. This is the self portrait of an
industrial America in its adolescence, as it began to wrench itself out of the great depression. And
though their names may not be written on the foundation or girders of the RCA building today, anyone
who knew them knows just as well that their very essence is infused into every square inch of it.
There is both great nobility and sadness in the work of these men, one rooted in a system
demanding a constant pool of renewed labor, often destroying the body and life of the laborers without
care or concern. It inarguably has led to some to the most elegant and fantastic achievements in the
history of mankind, yet this “ethic” that has set the tone of the industrialized world for the last century
has demanded great and often unforeseen costs. It has been “refined” from simply describing the way
one makes their way into the pure and undistracted need to amass wealth. In modernity this is often
achieved by doing nothing save playing with symbols that represent the work of others. This process has
seen both the “victory” of market based economics and the inevitable wreckage it has left behind. For
ours is an economy forged in the fires of expansion, tempered by the notion that if you work hard, if you
sacrifice often, then inevitably you will prosper. Yet we forget to take into account that this prospering
must come from a disparity both of others and the animate landscape upon which we depend. Yet an
even simpler question comes to mind, what is it that we’re trying to achieve? What is it that defines
affluence in the first place? In anthropology, happiness is defined as the least amount of division
between work and play. In preindustrial societies there was usually no division between the two. It
wasn’t until the first assembly line methods that work was no longer based on the end goal of
community/societal needs but only the effectiveness of production to equal surplus profit. We often
gloat on the comparative leaps and bounds modernity has on the hunting/gathering societies of the past
yet what are the standards by which we are making those assumptions? We muse on how much of their
time was spent just trying to survive, and yet research has shown that they worked ¾’s less than we do,
spending that time doing talk story with their family and community. While they may have lived shorter
lives, we seem to have forgotten to ask: “What is it that determines a good life, quantity, or quality?”
The author Heinrich Boil, in his satirical critique on this very subject tells the story of a Mediterranean
harbor: a poor fisherman is dozing in the midday sun. A tourist strikes up a conversation with him and
tries to convince him that he should go out and fish. “Why?” the fisherman wants to know. “To earn
more money,” replies the tourist, who quickly calculates how many additional catches, could make the
fisherman a wealthy man, with a large staff in his employ. “What for?” the fisherman again wants to
know. “You’d be so rich that you could lean back and relax in the sun,” the tourist explains. “But that’s
exactly what I’m doing now,” says the fisherman, and goes back to dozing.
Since Charles Darwin first wrote the origin of species, evolution has been defined as the ability
and efficiency of an organism to extract energy from available resources. Simultaneously, religion touted
that this process was sanctioned by the grace and glory of God. From the outset we weren’t concerned
with where that energy would go, what the end goal of extraction was, or how finitude played out
across time, we simply focused on how best to achieve greater and greater yield not just from the
environment but the labor used to acquire it. Even at the birth of the western world, the author Hesiod
wrote: “A gulf exists between man’s unending dreams and desires and the existing resources on earth
required to make them a reality.” In recent years that system has finally started to show signs of its
mortality. Economies across the world have run up against the limitations of “infinite” expansion, using
centralized banking to “create” emergency influxes of currency to bail out systems in catastrophic failure
only to depreciate the value of that currency as a whole at the cost of those paying into it. Families have
lost their homes, people holding jobs for over half their lives or more have found themselves
unemployed and without prospects, a morose pallor lingers in the air. The questions of why we equate
growth with progress or even why we work at all are being asked with increasing regularity. If our toil
doesn’t supply us with what we need, if it cannot suffer the elasticity of a changing world then what
good is it, and to what end do we suffer its short comings? My aim is to examine some of the historical
origins of how we think about work, specifically in reference to the western world and to trace those
alongside the loss of the telos or final cause. To examine how that has affected not only our relationship
with work but ultimately its link to the ongoing pursuit of meaning in our lives, and how we can
proactively seek new modalities to find both answers and compromises that will lead to a happier and
more congruent existence.
In order to understand how we interact with the concept of work in the present we must look
back to where and how it originated. All Abrahamic faiths believe in some sort of idealized garden in
which the first descendants of man didn’t have to work for sustenance. Yet from the outset, even in the
description of how God created Adam there are comparisons to a master craftsman who “breathes” life
into his creation. It follows that if God created man in his image then man would inevitably be drawn
towards a creation of his own. And so it is that after eating from the tree of knowledge, our descendants
are cast out into mortality, modesty, and toil. Adam to suffer unto the soil and Eve to the labor pains of
birth, in short from then on struggle was as much a part of life as was the breath that made it so. The
church being the authority on cultural identity well into the late 16th and early 17th centuries would
oscillate on whether work was a punishment for our sins our a transcendent penance for them. But it
stands that before the enlightenment to understand work was to ask: “How best might we achieve
salvation?” There were as many claims and views on this as they were individuals who pondered it, we
shall look over just a few.
St. Augustine believed that life was a “bed of pain” as defined by the obsession with material
acquisition and he viewed God as a doctor who would send “medicine” in the form of trials and
tribulations to distract us back towards the true nature of living. This truth was to refocus one’s energy
on the heavens and abandon any attachments we had to the realm of the physical. Work was an
opportunity that allowed us to imitate the work of the creator and thus become closer to the divine
nature of God. For Augustine, the corruption and inequality of this life were a direct result of the fall. It
was the aforementioned truth that emboldens us to suffer any ill so as to be better prepared to enter
into salvation as if “coming home”. Christianity however would soon begin to both aggregate and
deviate from this view in its own process of splintering. Max Weber a German economist who was first
simply interested in what he saw as capitalism’s wanton addiction to profit found the religious history of
work in his book “The Protestant Work Ethic and The Spirit of Capitalism.” He examined this divide
springing forth from the Protestant reformation. On one side you had the Roman Catholic Church who
believed like Augustine that the temporal world was flawed by original sin, human existence then should
be in a state of constant preparation for the next world. The best course of action was to fall back on
dedication to the divine through contemplation such as monastic life or church service. For those who
could not enter the church it offered sacraments such as penance and confession. For Catholicism one
endures the city of man in order to enjoy the city of God. Work was not so much important as was
knowledge.
On the other hand the reformers spearheaded by Martin Luther, believed that God had assigned
one task to each person and their duty was to find out and fulfill that task. Instead of removing oneself
one could engage in “good works” while waiting for the kingdom of heaven. To hide away from the
world was cowardice for the reformers; one must do what one is “called” to do. This is where we get the
term vocation. A man’s work becomes his faith personified. John Calvin, the catalyst for a more puritan
view saw both sides as flawed because they relied on the concept of penance: Catholicism through
church mediation and Protestantism through individual communication with God. He believed in
predestination of the soul, to Calvin, God had already determined those who would be saved or
damned. None of us could know which was which and to even ask was blasphemy, so work was a way to
take the mind off the question and to focus our energy into a positive outlet in the meantime. Putting
your whole trust in God would by default create a moral attitude. All three of these factions so far have
in common the deep need for theology to offer adequate explanations for deep matters of faith. On the
fringes of this debate were the Pietists, who looked not for salvation in the next world but this one. They
were taken to near hysterics, in their dedication to work and God, from speaking in voices to being
“slain” by the spirit. However the way they managed hierarchy and organization reminded Weber
almost exactly of a company or business enterprise. Methodists on the other hand didn’t believe that
righteous conduct alone assures salvation, to them you must “feel” grace actively in one’s life, unlike
Pietists they do not leave the world but engage it by being baptized in the Holy Spirit they achieve an
emotional certainty of grace, and thus a freedom from sin. This spiritual dialectic almost perfectly
mirrored the debate between the stoics and Epicureans during Greco-Roman time’s centuries earlier.
For Methodists it’s not the ritual that matters but the effect, how does it make you feel? Are you
regenerated? Baptists emerged during this debate holding the belief that only cognitively aware adults
could make the choice to rationally commit to their faith. Purity was maintained after this point via sola
scriptora or via strict scriptural adherence so that the word of God rules daily life. They answer the
question of recitivation by stating that all must choose to come back to the glory as we all are bound by
nature towards sin. Grace is central to their faith thus there was no “church” in the traditional sense but
only a place where the community would come together to congregate and learn from each other.
Weber saw this too as a transitionary space where individuals with their own interests conglomerated to
share in communal values much like the organization of capital interest. Since their faith was separate
from the space they could focus on the secular just as much as the spiritual.
Our country was both born because of and in the heat of this debate. Yet it was the
Protestant view of work that dominated those years, as most settlers were fleeing to America to escape
the chains that the Catholic church insisted were necessary to achieve salvation. Protestantism in its
many forms though agreed on one thing: that it could not be achieved by magical sacraments, or simply
doing work out of obligation. What was needed was a proof that would both inform them of their divine
status and lead to a productive life reining in the pull toward sin. This requires a rational form of
planning of the whole of one’s life in accordance to God’s will. Work became the focal point of faith,
while passive ascetical practice like prayer, contemplation, and monastic life in general were accorded
second place. Not just advocating a firm individualism but mandating the allocation of wealth as Godly.
Yet it was not the excessively rich that were espoused to have the ideal life but instead the newly born
upper middle class. Christians simply had to take advantage of God’s grace to make profit, taking cues
from Calvinism they believed that wealth and poverty were divinely mandated. In this way
Protestantism’s view of work set the foundation for a faith based economic system yet in the same
breath giving it the tools and allowance to easily part ways with its spiritual and thus moral limitations.
The actual point to Weber’s work was to trace how capitalism came to overpower its master, using it to
provide a disciplined labor force plus the continued reinvestment of profit that ensured its own
perpetuation. This created the first entrepreneurs who accumulated wealth not because of a dedication
to principles but for the sake of accumulation itself. Yet there are great implications in removing faith
from work. I am not nor will I advocate for a faith based conception of work however, as we will see
later on the universe abhors a vacuum. If you take away taboos, something is bound to fill the space left
behind. Without meaning vocations don’t exist, they simply become jobs often lacking continuity or
investment. This leads to process overtaking substance, and inevitably to discontent and claustrophobia.
Weber termed it an “iron cage”, or the process of rationalization replacing values and emotions with
rational and calculated conventions. He ended by posing the question never more relevant than right
now: Will our children have the opportunity to recall the ethical and passionate meaning of work? Will
they care to change their labor to produce things that may outlive their terms of creation?
2. Being and Doing:
It’s a clear day, light soft clouds are moving quickly above, a cool breeze blows across the valley,
in the middle there is a single large hill. It’s rocky in parts jutting this way and that as if trying to be
something more. There is a naked man at the foot; his chest and brow dripping with perspiration. His
hands and shoulders lined with old scars and fresh cuts weeping blood that mingles with the sweat and
dissipates across his torso and forearms. His hands are on a boulder no single man could seemingly
push, he looks like an ant standing next to a magnifying glass. Even with the breeze the air seems still, as
if the area surrounding him was an invisible wall letting nothing living pass. The sun beating down, his
feet set his face stoic. Just before his hands meet the boulder we see the faintest hint of a smile. It’s like
seeing a shadow in our periphery, only at the corner of your eye; if you were to blink you would have
missed it. And then he sets in pushing this ridiculous behemoth of limestone and shale up the hill, it
seems to take weeks, and when he finally gets it to the top [a plateau that isn’t even large enough for
the boulder let alone his feet] it rolls back down the other side, and he dutifully follows to begin again.
We grit our teeth and shift on the balls of our feet uncomfortably for him. It’s like watching a boxing
match that’s gone all wrong, the underdog that doesn’t come back like the movies getting the life
knocked out of him. There is just the horrible sound of contact, raw meat hitting the floor, the loss of
pride and blood. So why the smile, what could possibly be enjoyable about being punished by the Gods
to an eternity of toil, pain, futility? Albert Camus wrote the “Myth of Sisyphus” during a time when like
the religious split discussed above the western world had hit another fork in the road, but this time it
was about essence vs. existence. Either humanity was created by a great artisan and thus has purpose,
or there is no artisan and it is up to us not just as a society but as individuals to create the meaning in
our own lives. In Camus’s metaphor, Sisyphus smiles because he’s aware of his futility and thus can use
that awareness to his advantage. He can pay attention to the clouds, or the way the boulder feels on his
hands or the sun on his brow. He can choose to make the task about anything he wants and thus
through this process can find relief from the shackles of life, work, and death. Camus argues not to live
in delusion or evasion but to accept the absurdity of futility and in so many words, to shove on anyway.
He was dealing with what we described earlier, a world where the lack of purpose in our work had failed
us, but to understand this truly we have to go back to the start. And the start of Western inquiry is most
notably authored by Aristotle and his own study of final causes or teleology.
Aristotle lived in a terra-centric universe where all things were in a state of potentiality working
towards actuality via a purposeful momentum begun by the prime mover. In this way cause is not
temporally asymmetrical, A doesn’t always come before B. In modernity we live by Humean causality
[cause and effect]. We move from A to B where A is always different than B and always precedes it. The
past manifests the future in the present, wherein Aristotelian causality the future [actuality] pulls the
past into the present by its desire towards the eternal. This is a thing’s telos: to seek the eternal. This
telos or purpose is one of four causes by which he believed we can know a thing: “Men do not know a
thing til they have grasped the ‘why’ of which is to grasp its primary cause.” However it is important to
know that cause is a word we have affixed, the word he used was aitia meaning explanation. An answer
to a ‘why’ question of which there are always innumerable answers. His four causes were: material,
formal, efficient, and final. The material cause was that which from a thing comes to be [x is what y is
made out of]. The formal was the account of the essence and the parts of the account [x is what it is to
be y] it can best be described as the plan or blueprint of thing, how it stands in relation to other things.
The efficient cause was the source or primary principle of change or stability, the action that
corresponds to its existence [x is what produces y]. Finally, the final cause was something’s end or goal
[x is what y is for]. To put this in perspective we can look at any number of examples he used but for
brevity’s sake let us stick to a table. The table is made out of wood, having 4 legs and a flat top makes it
a table, a carpenter uses tools to make the table, and having a surface suitable for sitting, eating, etc. is
the reason it was made. In order to understand anything past the first two causes we must look at them
dynamically. Material and formal causes explain matter taking on or losing form and what that form is.
Efficient and final causes explain why the changes occured. The carpenter had a plan for making a
product he could sell at a profit, thus he used the tools to manipulate the form of the raw materials into
a table. Yet it is important before we move to place this firmly in context, and to clarify its importance.
Mathew Crawford in his examination of manual work in his book: “Shop Class as Soulcraft” discusses
constructing just such a table from a deeper light: “I once built a mahogany coffee table on which I
spared no expense of effort. At that time I had no immediate prospect of becoming a father, yet I
imagined a child who would form indelible impressions of this table and know that it was his father’s
work. I imagined the table fading into the background of a future life, the defects in its execution as well
as inevitable stains and scars becoming a surface textured enough that memory and sentiment might
cling to it, in unnoticed accretions. More fundamentally, as Hanna Arendt writes, the durable objects of
use produced by men “give rise to the familiarity of the world, its customs and habits of intercourse
between men and things as well as between men and men.” The reality and reliability of the human
world rest primarily on the fact that we are surrounded by things more permanent than the activity by
which they were produced, and potentially even more permanent than the lives of their authors.” We
must take into account that the telos is not simply a word that describes why a thing came to be but the
mechanism by which we understand the meaning in our lives.
For Aristotle all things had a purpose, we could find out what that was through inference. For
artificial things this was external like the carpenter’s plan for the table; however for natural things the
final cause was internal. This wasn’t necessarily a purpose like we define it but a description of the end
of successive developmental change. Thus the form is the end; it’s what it is to be something. The
purpose of a thing is its nature, like a bird to fly, a fish to swim, etc. Aristotle understood that we cannot
know its true purpose but can look towards nature to provide us the tools through example to make
educated guesses. Things in nature for the most part operate through instinct, thus hey happen true to
form. Formal, efficient, and final causes can often have the same answer like in the case of the bird: the
questions what kind of a thing is it, what produced it, and what is it turning into, are all the same thing.
In nature the form exists prior to not as a result of the thing. It isn’t simply a classification by shape, but
function. To say what a natural thing is, is to say what it does. In this way we can begin to look at the
purpose of human beings, and subsequently the work they do. Human beings are the only organism on
the planet that can choose what they do in relation to and often in spite of instinct. For Aristotle man’s
purpose was Eudaimonia or happiness. This wasn’t a happiness in the sense of simple pleasure, but
instead the development of human excellence or flourishing. This is achieved by active contemplation
via rationality. Yet this had an otherworldly quality to it, humans too were striving towards actuality and
thus he while advocating for also diminished the attachment to the natural world. For teleology as
traditionally discussed is an apology for intelligent design. This is most famously described in the story of
the pocket watch found on the beach by a man who had never seen one before thus leading him to
ponder his own creation. So either god created us through work with the intention of being known or he
didn’t and has no interest in our affairs. Both arguments hold in common that if we really knew we
would reach transcendence, thus truly knowing is impossible. But it wasn’t until the enlightenment that
this came full circle.
In the 17th and 18th centuries the question of meaning came back into the western vernacular.
Christianity had previously replaced the philosophical dialectic with a definitive answer: man’s meaning
was both derived from and informed by God. Yet with the rise of classical physics and the parallel
momentum of the “new philosophy” the question was posed yet again. It would make intuitive sense to
believe that the end result of man asking about his meaning again would end in a search for just that,
but surprisingly what happened was quite to the contrary. From the outset of Cartesian doubt, we
began asking ourselves what we knew and how we could know it. This took a great many forms one of
the most important was Hume’s view of causality IE cause and effect, which we discussed earlier. Events
to Hume are necessitated by laws when correlated with a statement of relevant facts. Bertrand Russell
would later state that such laws do not provide the details of the causal process; rather they yield a
“table of correlations” between natural variables. Immanuel Kant took this depiction of perception and
the sensuous reducing it to the phenomenological, or the experienced. He postulated that experience
demands structures such as time, space and causation in order for us to cognitively process it. Thus
what we know is not the world as it actually is but instead what we have internally labeled it. There
would always be a "membrane of transition" between experience and cognition. The underlying world
just like the arbitrary one we placed atop it via convention was a mental construct and thus directly
informed by individual will. To Kant, neither God nor a prime mover followed from experience. And if we
cannot know God then we cannot know his purpose or our own. With Newton and Kepler’s laws of
gravity and motion the universe was painted as inert, the causes of great mysterious forces were
natural, plainly described and easily categorized. Owen Anderson, in his thesis on boredom and the loss
of the final cause describes how Darwin went still further limiting life to efficient causes; a species
wasn’t guided by form or function’s movement towards the eternal but simply the genetic attributes of
survival. He goes on to Marx and Freud defining naturalistic motivation behind societal and individual
organization. Even human desire was reduced to: “non-human patterns; a struggle to overcome
alienated labor, seek pleasure, or overcome repression”. Thus, temporally asymmetrical causation could
be used to describe the universe and everything in it IE the efficient cause. From this moment on living
wasn’t about asking why but what or how. I cannot stress enough how underplayed this paradigm shift
was and is. Before the enlightenment meaning was god’s domain, the minute it became man’s instead
of continuing the pursuit we got distracted by how bright and beautiful progress was. We set out
separating ourselves from it unto an exponential compartmentalization in which the whole picture was
scrapped for parts and fed to specialization. Today we can create nearly anything our heart desires, as
much of it as we could ever want, faster than we ever dreamed, we can trade it, sell it, buy it, share it.
We can explain it, recreate it, and refine it. We can brand it, advertise, and politicize it. We can do all
these things totally and wholly without ever asking the simplest of questions: As free thinking rational
animals should we? Or better stated, should we not?
Two immanent philosophers looked at this very phenomenon in relation to how it had affected
modernity and in specific work. The first was mentioned in a quote earlier, Hanah Arendt. She is most
notably remembered for her assessment on totalitarianism and the holocaust. Arendt was interested in
the fundamental structures of political experience and the conditions that necessitated its existence.
She wrote: “The Human Condition” in an attempt to explore the oscillation between vita contemplativa
[contemplation of the eternal] and vita activa [action as the engaged political life]. Arendt believed that
that the western philosophical traditional had devalued action since antiquity. To approach the
problems she saw coming from a malformed relationship to the vita activa she broke down the human
modality into two distinct parts: Animal Laborans [corresponding to toil that produces consumer goods]
and Homo-Faber [One who’s craft expresses one’s being and creates transcendent satisfaction]. She
argues that the industrial revolution replaced the craftsman with the wage slave, thus we began to
interpret things not by the way we made them but as products for base consumption and the rate and
efficiency of their production. This specialization/division of labor didn’t create a golden age, but instead
forced all to a labor of necessity leading inevitably to Weber’s iron cage. Life is consumption; to
consume you must produce, so life is production. Life becomes overshadowed by labor and its
mechanization diminishes the worker while increasing the amount he is expected to produce, in this
way labor comodifies humanity. The product is replaced with the need for a continuing innovation of
process which becomes the most important form of knowledge. The result of this is a submission to the
procession of history as infinite and therefore on a long enough time line as purposeless. We could only
know what we ourselves made, thus began the move from an ethic based in ontology to one rooted in
epistemology, being becomes process. Thus man turned away from both contemplativa and activa and
withdrew into himself.
She asserted a call back to the vita activa as a solution to the divestment away from
engagement modernity had fostered. She broke the activa into three categories: labor, work, and
action. Labor was life itself or what was necessary for survival, like food or water which was consumed
as fast as it was produced. This leads to futility because it only sustains one’s life until death. There is no
product of labor, much like Camus, she states that the facts of life are birth and death and labor exists
between them. Work for Arendt, in contrast to labor is the byproduct of humans giving shape and
structure to the arbitrary forms used to make sense of the world. Work creates the context in which
social life can unfold. We don’t need Aristotle’s table nor does it exist in nature. Man envisions it in a
piece of wood and manifests it through some level of violence. For Arendt the individual labor or work
of men doesn’t really stand up to time. Thus it’s not death [mortality] but birth [natality] that defines
the human condition, the ability to create new things from existing structure: “Man is free because he is
a beginning”. Arendt’s action is the new, what always happens against the overwhelming odds and laws
of probability. It is what distinguished action from behavior IE something regulated or habituated. An
action however is made in the public realm. A man acting alone would have no morality or at least not
as we know it now. Thus the societal norms engage each action as it is made and either integrate,
disseminate or deconstruct it. The human condition is only paramount in as much as it is plurality. For
Arendt work leads to the action of people coming together to exercise their capacity for agency:
“Freedom is the raison d’etre of politics, and its field of experience is action” Though we must labor out
of necessity, our actions can change human interaction with others and our environment. We live in the
world and perceive it; this perception dictates how we interact not only with it but with each other.
Action was our ability not simply to produce materiality but to seek a dialectically derived truth which
could change cultural ends.
Whereas Arendt looked at how our relationship with work affected being, Ferdinand Toennies
looked at how it affected our interactions with each other. Tonnies believed man was a volitional being;
we will our world into existence. He identified two different types of social organization chronologically
divided by the industrial revolution. He believed that industry didn’t just change how we worked but the
very way we engaged with each other. His metaphor was the feeling you get from an object made with
unique intentions by a specific person verse something made by using an exact formula towards the end
of profit. The first type of social organization he described was the Community or Gemeinschaft. This
was the original condition of perfect unity among human wills. Community is born from family. It is a
balance between leadership and compliance. Obedience is derived from the enjoyment members of the
community experience from their relationships and this motivates them to work harder. It is authority at
the consent of and for the sake of all. The home where blood and proximity authority is exercised
provides the first model for community members. These relationships contribute consensus among its
members which define how work is viewed and participated in. The village is basically a larger
functioning household that provides protection, preserves knowledge/traditions across generations and
organizes labor for the preservation of the common good. The community is the breeding ground for
“natural will” which creates social relationships that grow organically and create tradition. Those
traditions help us use past experience to frame future experience as an accumulative unfolding. Human
beings come to know and cherish what they believe the community values as good. They choose
willingly to contribute to furthering the community’s welfare. Natural will directs members to desire
specific ends at the out cost of putting all things aside and the upshot of compelling them to overcome
any obstacles presented. This is what allows for a community’s values to be expressed across time.
Toennie’s example is the youth that decides to become a local police officer, teacher, or priest so as to
give back and perpetuate the common good. It was a way for the individual to embody values more
permanent than the life of a single human being.
In contrast to this was the society or Gesellscaft. This was born from an aggregate of humans
bound by transaction. In the community a member’s skill or trade would be used as a literal exchange of
value. When money was created, it by nature was an arbitrary value both systematizing and organizing
but also removing how the person was directly linked to their work. Members were now linked solely to
a consensual denomination. In the society it is for the good of the self not the whole. The worker sells
his labor to a merchant who makes a profit of that labor as a commodity to a third party. The process
becomes wholly utilitarian, the means to an end. The worker ceases to be engaged in craft, is simply
preforming a job at the bequest of a contract. Their work then is gauged against the expectation of time
and output, and the contract holder will expect to cash in on the productivity as profit. If the worker is
not contributing to the increase of that profit they will be deemed expendable. The worker moves from
being a subject to an object. This creates a cognitive dissonance between man’s conceptions of his work
as an expression of his will. Industry determines man’s worth based on the number of workers available
to the contract holder and their ability to maximize that holder’s profit. This mental climate is conducive
to what Toennie’s deemed “rational will” or to think and act only in relation to the immediate future. It
is a system that dehumanizes itself, as all indubitably consequentialist methods do. By breaking down all
factors and applying a set value to each outcome, decision making inevitably becomes nothing save a
cost/benefit analysis. In Society a person’s underlying values are not a reflection of his community but
only his personal goals. There is no urge towards continuity or tradition, we only need look at
technologies effect on many indigenous youth and their relation to the traditional knowledge that will
be lost if they take no interest in it to illustrate this. Toennie’s aim was to find a balance between both
community and society as well as natural and rational will. He encourages people to become “authors”
of their own lives. Authorship he writes: “aggregates and amalgamates communal, societal, and
personal values into a process rather than a power struggle.” Work is communally a duty through which
each contributes to the common good. He believed that acting in response to and seeking the
flourishing of the community as an end made work rewarding. He looks back to the Roman communitas
where citizenship was about having the “right stuff” and exemplifying communal values as opposed to
following laws based on acknowledged consequences. It’s about what you were doing not what you
weren’t. In the end he believed the glue that holds all types of social organizations together is how the
power of will and action shape human interdependence. “Will is the human binding agent, and the most
identifiable form of will, is one’s work.”
3. Sine labore nihi:
In Alchemy the ultimate end more important than and necessary for the transmutation of base metals into gold, is a purification of the self. The journey towards an axis point of the many selves we present to others, and ourselves. It is both a charge and warning to and for the initiate that this is not a process to be undertaken frivolously. Just as Dante passes the threshold into the underworld so too must man accept that to know thyself is to acknowledge a great many demons. Eliphas Levi, one of the first modern magicians described it thus: “The Great Work is, before all things, the creation of man by himself, that is to say, the full and entire conquest of his faculties and his future; it is especially the perfect emancipation of his will.” In each of us there is good kindling, fresh flint, and the possibility for flame. All that’s required is the proper application of friction. I think he would agree with Alexander Pope’s heed: “die of nothing, save the rage to live.” Just as Toennies pointed out, there is no greater expression of individual will than our work. With the right eyes we can see our lives and choices as an unfolding of that will. We each are given a choice to take assessment of who we really are, and from that swirling pool of possibility and potential much like Luther’s vocation, choose to refine what “calls” to us. I read a book when I was young, a novel by an author who in recent years has come under some pretty heavy scrutiny. The book was “The Fountainhead” by Ayn Rand, and in it there are a great many fallacies, prejudices and misconceptions just as there are in nearly every book of the human cannon. And while I do not advocate or even agree with many of her ideas, I believe in the heart of what is written there, which is a strong and able protagonist who lives his life by a code. In it is one of the most eloquent and explicit depictions of the passionate and dedicated life I have ever encountered. In the opening pages, a young architect who knows himself and what he believes is being let go by a school who would ask him to work against those beliefs. In response he says: “I have, let's say sixty years to live. Most of that time will be spent working. I've chosen the work I want to do. If I find no joy in it, then I'm only condemning myself to sixty years of torture. And I can find joy only if I do the work in the best way possible to me. But the best is a matter of standards.” Those standards are the borderlands between meaning and chaos. For truly to ask what work is, is also to what end, and thus purpose we undertake it. It is to ask if there can be meaning in the universe and thus inevitably what that may be. In the previous pages I have outlined first the religious history of how we formed the western
work ethic, one that was meant to be both a distraction and a ticket to salvation. We moved then to an
inquiry of work in relation to the final cause and what effect that had both on the individual and society.
I have let most of the thinkers cited here speak for themselves both in their criticisms and solutions, and
so now likewise I turn to my own. As described from the enlightenment on following the loss of the final
cause the nature of work became wholly epistemological IE moving from a focus on being to process.
Thus the question remains, what are the long term costs of taking the guiding question of purpose out
of the dialectic? I cannot stress enough here the fallacy of believing apples are oranges or that square
pegs can fit into round holes. I would in fact argue that taking the why questions out of science and
replacing them with hows based on reductionism was the single most detrimental choice in the history
of mankind. To leave only the efficient cause as an adequate stopping point is to blatantly invite a
vacuum. It’s like taking a drug addicts supply and replacing it with placebo, putting your faith on the
dependency being ”fooled” into believing everything’s the same. It’s to invite base consumerism and
entertainment, gluttonous excess and environmental degradation to become our new distractions, our
new tickets to salvation. But we know better, in every breath we know that our feet are resting on a
sphere that’s spinning at thousands of miles per hour hurtling round a burning star in a solar system and
thus universe so infinite we cannot begin to fathom it. And the distractions inevitably fail us, because
our instincts scream the truth, there is no such thing as a free ride: Sine labore nihi: nothing without
work. It is hardwired into every neuron to search out the meaning in our lives, and to know that that
meaning comes most often in the times of struggle that demand the best from us, that push us to
problem solve and apply what we have learned: not simply to “do”, but to do so creatively. The
question then becomes not what the effect has been but instead how can we find adequate answers
that fulfill not just transcendent but practical problems? If experience fails us, if we cannot know the
world as it really is, then what can we know?
As stated earlier, Empiricism claims that experience cannot inform us about God, or give a true
account of the world as it actually is. However, instead of scrapping the pursuit we can reevaluate the
question. We can ask if this is indeed the proper application of empiricism, or if another modality might
better suit our aims? Don’t get me wrong, I do not advocate for a solely deductive truth. I propose
instead that we rely on inference balanced with intuition. There are things we instinctively know to be
true that can reinforce and enrich the empirical laws that govern our world. These “instinctive” truths
can in fact take them places they need to go. By attempting a Cartesian “restart” as it were [without the
division], we can realign ourselves formally with the underlying reality on which that form depends. So
what can we know? What is infallible? Aside from the fundamental forces of the universe, few things are
as solid as the laws of thermodynamics. We know that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; we
know that systems tend towards entropy and that that entropy will eventually rest at zero. This gives us
the beginning strokes of a portrait for the universe that we live in, one that by our own existence allows
for an infinite variety of creative outcomes. So many in fact that even Douglas Adam’s super computer
couldn’t wholly calculate them all. To go a step further, in the 19th century the Heisenberg uncertainty
principle established that the most fundamental building blocks of our universe were inherently
temporally symmetric. In other words using perfectly elastic particles we can successfully extrapolate
from the present both to the past as well as the future. Thus even though we are culturally conditioned
to think of time in terms of past to present it’s actually a relative phenomenon. Pierre-Simon Laplace,
picking up where Aristotle left off asserts that the universe does indeed contain both the potentiality
and actuality of any given object in all directions, temporal or otherwise. In short this statement
removes the efficient cause as sufficient to explain how the emission of a quantum particle may be
conditioned by the circumstances of its absorption. This is just a highly specialized way of saying that the
future can have just as much effect on the past as vice versa, our very perception of an object can affect
its action. But more than this it invites us to re-examine the battle between idealism [the world is a
construct of the mind] and materialism [consciousness is simply a product of matter and energy]. If we
can affect the way events take place it would follow that those events can likewise affect us. The
classical solution to this is dualism [there is both matter and mind] but still there is so much more to this
debate than can be quantified, let alone the questions around how they interact. Here again we run up
against the limitations of our cognitive, sensory and even imaginative faculties. Quantum physics affirms
the underlying truth that when it comes right down to it, at the end of the day after all the empirical
facts are weighed, tallied and applied, we really have no idea what’s going on. However, instead of
letting what we can’t know determine who we are why not let what we can know guide our meaning. I
assert that we can look to a neo-teleology to help us deal with the implications of this. It can blaze new
paths towards both a joyous and responsible future via the construction of congruent forms.
What we can know, not necessarily empirically but intuitively is that all things across
time do seek the infinite. Because the question isn’t: “what compels motion?” but instead: “What are
the creative implications for energy in a closed system?” All things may change form but they consist of
one continuous stream of energy. Thermodynamics set the tone for the cyclical patterned interactions
of the natural world that follow IE the carbon, food, and water cycles. Arendt believed that the human
condition was [at least in as long as we are earth bound] predicated by its context and more importantly
by what’s happening within it. If function can give us form, why can’t it give us meaning? The proper
function of an animal at the top of the food chain is stewardship; any other choice leads to extinction.
This isn’t simply reliant on instinct when reason is involved. We must CHOOSE to survive. That choice is
the path to meaning, just as Toennies claimed: we will our world into existence. I think maybe what he
meant by world, is more properly labeled meaning, not simply by creation but acknowledgement. It
stands that the final cause of each human being is ultimately individual, based on human nature in its
relation and interaction with experience. I assert here that whether God exists or not, our telos is joy, or
better stated, Aristotle’s Eudaimonia. I know of nothing more useful to rationally attain it than
congruence through environmental dialog. I know of no better personification of joy than work. Gibran
said it best: “You work that you may keep peace with the earth and the soul of the earth. For to be idle
is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty
and proud submission towards the infinite.” Our choice then is whether we acknowledge and act on our
ability to overcome irrational axioms and heuristics derived from hollow convention. In moving past
these, we can both acknowledge and create the meaning in our lives, one that mirrors the meaning so
evident throughout the cosmos.
To do this we must recognize that to seek meaning is actually to seek the joy inherent in it. That
joy is found through work in general and the creativity achieved after mastery in specific, both of the self
and the world. I want to clarify that I don’t mean perfection, nor do I mean one should endeavor to
“master” the world, instead what we attempt to master is our effect on it and how well our actions align
with those same natural cycles. This then can’t be just any work; it must be the work chosen as Friedrich
Schiller notes, when we are free, or in other words a work that takes telos to heart. Thus an ontological
work ethic is in order, one that brings action back into dialog with meaning. This is how we create new
feedback loops, so that convention is informed by balance and thus feeds back into cultural creation. By
holding to an ethic that is deeply informed by and congruent with the natural cycles of the animate
landscape not only will we flourish but will do so as an integrated living system.
I suggest that we begin to bring the why back into our daily lives. If we begin an endeavor
by first asking what the end of that action is not only will our goals be more effectively reached but we
will feel an honest joy in achieving them. To do this we must break away from the work/leisure
dichotomy, where work is associated with drudgery and leisure freedom. We must ask why Joe Smith
gets up at 3am on Saturday morning full of energy, wholly alert and engaged for his weekly hunting trip
but can’t ever seem to get out of bed during the week for his 9 to 5. Work is any of the million things we
openly choose to invest energy into. When a person does good work, when they foster and hone a skill,
something they truly love to do and can offer that skill or product you have the foundation for the most
beautiful moment in life: the feeling of competence and efficacy forged though personal
acknowledgement of ability and tempered by the same in and with others. To undertake the equivalent
exchange of value for value is how we learn real and healthy pride, not one rooted in arrogance but self-
respect. It is the foundation for all functional relationships, and the cornerstone for building lasting
community. We must begin not only to bring the why back, but to connect it to legacy both as
individuals and communities. What are the effects of our actions across time? Legacy is how we emplace
ourselves where we are, how we build the reference points both physically and mentally to remind us
who we are and who we’re becoming. Work is legacy’s tool to do this, as well as how it records time. We
frame our lives by the pivotal decisions we’ve made. And how impossible would it be to think of those
without also accounting for the work done to make them. Those men sitting on that beam 69 floors
above the skyline, they weren’t just there by chance. They understood that you get what you put in. Our
work not as westerners but rational creatures isn’t just about money or culture, sometimes it’s not even
about the specific job we’re doing, it’s about how and why we’re doing it. Work is the way we choose to
invest in our own lives and thus the world. I know of no greater signifier of a man’s emotional state than
looking at his work ethic. Craftsmanship is more than just a way to describe how something has been
made; it is a direct extension of character. If humanity is to survive the coming changes in its
environment it will be because of men and women who honor competence and efficacy over
convenience and impulse. If you are to make a life for yourself in that world, it will be by the
effectiveness of the creativity that struggle demands of you. A struggle that will charge us not simply to
survive but to flourish, to find the work that lights up our being, and sets fire to our hearts. I have been
asked often what is true; of the many things to call into question I have come to put my faith in the
simplest of things. I believe in the sweat on my brow, the dirt under my nails and the smile on my face
[boulder or otherwise]. But if I had to start from scratch, if I could take nothing else with me, it would be
only five simple words: you reap what you sow.