(Aristotle 8) Tolstoy's Contribution to Understanding the Limits of Aristotelian Virtue

Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilych shows the kind of limits in Aristotle in another way. I will just leap into how I read the book. Ivan seems to be a member of a community and a family (a kind of ur-community).

  Ivan Ilych is a judge – specifically, a high-court judge in the Russian judicial system. As such he would typically deal with cases of significant legal importance and complexity. That should put him squarely within an Aristotelian-type practice/community. As a judge he must constantly exercise the virtues of justice, practical wisdom (applying law to specific cases justly, and thus interpreting the law and the specific case together). His social function as judge involves him with those who appear before him and the legal community in a way that makes his words and actions meaningful.

   He is also a father and husband, and the same applies to fathers and husbands: they constantly need to exercise justice and practical wisdom, which could include other virtues such as patience, honesty, and constancy. What makes a good judge differs from what makes a good father, but both senses of good share the transcending of the private ego, integrating the good of a community of others into what fulfills a person.

    Both involve the development and exercise of the virtues although just as the meaning of good shifts when said of a judge and a father, so the meaning of just, wise, and courageous shifts. An analogy exists between the uses of good, just, wise, and courageous when applied to father, husband, and judge: the meaning shifts as the reality of the context shifts but an essential core remains. Thus a "good" judge applies the law impartially, without bias, and with integrity. This involves making decisions based on evidence and legal principles, ensuring that justice is served. A "good" father is caring, nurturing, and supportive. He prioritizes the well-being and development of his children, providing emotional support and guidance. In both roles, being "good" involves acting with integrity and in the best interest of others, whether it's the litigants in a courtroom or one's children. Both judge and father are practices you can be good at.

    Justice and wisdom, when applied to family and courts, share core meanings but have distinct applications. In courts, justice involves the objective application and interpretation of laws to ensure fairness and equity. This requires impartiality, adherence to legal standards, and procedural fairness. Conversely, in a family context, justice revolves around fairness and equality in relationships, addressing the needs and rights of family members, resolving conflicts fairly, and maintaining harmony. While both settings demand equitable treatment and a balanced approach to resolving conflicts, the court's focus is on legal precedents and unbiased judgment, whereas the family emphasizes individual needs and equitable treatment.

      Wisdom in the judiciary involves a deep understanding of the law and its broader implications, requiring judges to interpret the law in ways that serve the greater good. This demands legal insight, judicial prudence, and balanced judgment. In a family setting, wisdom is about understanding human emotions and relationships, providing sound advice, anticipating consequences, and fostering a nurturing environment. It presupposed a deep familiarity with children and spouses. Like being a judge, being a father and husband requires deep understanding and insightful judgment, but the contexts differ: courts focus on legal and societal impacts, while families prioritize the well-being of children and spouses.

    In addition to these blessings, Ilych has more than sufficient “external” goods: wealth and social prestige. He seems firmly rooted in Aristotelian “flourishing.”

   But facing death, he realizes that he has wasted his life.

False. Everything by which you have lived and live now is all a deception, a lie, concealing both life and death from you.

What, if anything, does this say about Aristotelian ethics?

. . .

  Well, in one respect, not much. Despite being a part of the law and a family, Ivan’s core self is not rooted in any community. His profession – not a vocation – and even his family are nothing but means to external goods: social prestige and wealth, mostly. And in that he is not especially corrupt but follows the norm of his society where only such external goods are valued. I assume this is connected to Tsarist Russia, whose exploitative, unjust power structure drained the life out of both upper-class families and the Law. Conforming to social expectations was the name of the game. What Ivan thought of his wife who was conforming to something like wifely expectations during his sickness applies equally to him:

Everything she did for him was entirely for her own sake, and she told him she was doing for her own sake what she actually was doing for her own sake as something so incredible that he would take it as meaning the opposite.

She had become a mirror of himself. It feels like Ivan was in a role-playing game where winning is defined by how much social prestige and wealth. Thus Ivan’s empty life doesn’t refute but rather confirms Aristotle: on the other side of being integrated into a practice/meaning-community is the meaninglessness of the purely private ego, which death negates. That is also Tolstoy’s point. [I think Christopher Cordner doesn’t clearly see this in his discussion.]

   As a result of remaining imprisoned in a pre-community ego, not only Ivan’s life but his wife and children were not fully present to him, not fully real. They were like role-players in the social game he was playing. If being a judge, husband, and father had gone deep with him, it would have been different. The question is: do they become real to him after he has accepted inevitability of his impending death? And if so, it would seem that it cannot be explained in Aristotelian terms – flourishing through developing higher human capacities in community with others. [This is Cordner’s belief and I agree with him.]

  Here are the crucial passages from chapter XII:

In his isolation he looked at those about him and ‘saw himself — all that he had lived for — and saw plainly that it was all wrong, a horrible, monstrous lie concealing both life and death. This consciousness increased his physical suffering tenfold.

At that very moment Ivan Ilych fell through and caught sight of the light, and it was revealed to him that though his life had not been what it should have been, this could still be rectified. He asked himself, "What is the right thing?" and grew still, listening. Then he felt that someone was kissing his hand. He opened his eyes, looked at his son, and felt sorry for him. His wife camp up to him and he glanced at her. She was gazing at him open-mouthed, with undried tears on her nose and cheek and a despairing look on her face. He felt sorry for her too.

"Yes, I am making them wretched," he thought. "They are sorry, but it will be better for them when I die." He wished to say this but had not the strength to utter it. "Besides, why speak? I must act," he thought. with a look at his wife he indicated his son and said: "Take him away...sorry for him...sorry for you too...." He tried to add, "Forgive me," but said "Forego" and waved his hand, knowing that He whose understanding mattered would understand.

And suddenly it grew clear to him that what had been oppressing him and would not leave his was all dropping away at once from two sides, from ten sides, and from all sides. He was sorry for them, he must act so as not to hurt them: release them and free himself from these sufferings. "How good and how simple!" he thought. "And the pain?" he asked himself. "What has become of it? Where are you, pain?"

He turned his attention to it.

"Yes, here it is. Well, what of it? Let the pain be."

"And death...where is it?"

He sought his former accustomed fear of death and did not find it. "Where is it? What death?" There was no fear because there was no death.

In place of death there was light.

 

I want to say: his family became real to him. A sublime experience, made possible by death.  Of course, as the everyday people they were he had been acquainted with them. What happens now is that he sees them in a purer, truer light: he sees them in the light of justice, love, and (as part of love) pity. He sees them as mortal creatures doomed to die, made possible by facing the reality of his own death and empty life. His ego consciousness is almost completely subsumed by this heightened consciousness of reality. It’s like the blinders have come off that prevented him from seeing his own true nature as well as that of his loved ones and indeed the world he lived in. A gift of death.

    And that is not in Aristotle.

[see Christopher Cordner, Ethical Encounter: The Depth of Moral Meaning, 2002. I am indebted to this author for idea of contrasted Tolstoy's masterpiece to Aristotle, and agree with his basic insight while understanding Aristotle a bit differently. I have learned a lot about Aristotle from Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue, 1981 and Martha Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness, 1986.]