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December 22, 2019 - January 22, 2020
How selfish soever man may be supposed, there are evidently some principles in his nature, which interest him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it.
Adam Smith in The Theory of Moral Sentiments wrote as eloquently as anyone ever has on the futility of pursuing money with the hope of finding happiness.
“human heart in conflict with itself”—it’s
making a choice means giving up something.
and the destruction of that immense multitude seems plainly an object less interesting to him, than this paltry misfortune of his own.
The idea that other people care
about themselves is generally a good thing to remember if you want them to do something for you in return.
How selfish soever man may be supposed, there are evidently some principles in his nature, which interest him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it.
It is he who shows us the propriety of generosity and the deformity of injustice; the propriety of resigning the greatest interests of our own, for the yet greater interests of others, and the deformity of doing the smallest injury to another, in order to obtain the greatest benefit to ourselves.
What spurs us to take care of our neighbor is the desire to act honorably and nobly in order to satisfy what we imagine is the standard that would be set by an impartial spectator.
Such selfishness is narrowly rational, of course; it’s better to be free than in prison. But Valjean rejects the calculation. How could he face his fellow man if he should act so selfishly?
Smith believes that our desire for approval from those around us is embedded within us, and that our moral sense comes from experiencing approval and disapproval from others. As we experience those responses, we come to imagine an impartial spectator judging us.
Man naturally desires, not only to be loved, but to be lovely.
He naturally dreads, not only to be hated, but to be hateful; or to be that thing which is the natural and proper object of hatred. He desires, not only praise, but praiseworthiness; or to be that thing which, though it should be praised by nobody, is, however, the natural and proper object of praise. He dreads, not only blame, but blameworthiness; or to be that thing which, though it should be blamed by nobody, is, however, the natural and proper object of blame.
Loveliness isn’t an investment looking for a return. That’s why you don’t keep score in a good marriage—I did this for you, so now it’s your turn to do something for me. I went to the grocery, so you have to run the kids to soccer. I was nice to you when you were under stress. Now I’m under stress, so you have to be nice to me. Or I’m up four to one, so the next three tasks fall on you. I went to two events with your friends, so for the next two, I drag you out with my friends.
Smith is saying that even before Madoff’s Ponzi scheme was discovered, Buffett slept better than Madoff.
To us they [his praises] should be more mortifying than any censure, and should perpetually call to our minds, the most humbling of all reflections, the reflection of what we ought to be, but what we are not.
A weak man may sometimes be pleased with it, but a wise man rejects it upon all occasions.
This is a tempting way to view our fellow human beings: people who don’t act the way we think they should are immoral or evil.
we are prone to self-deception.
So in theory, at least, our reflection on our past behavior could lead to learning, self-knowledge, and a desire to behave differently in the future.
It is so disagreeable to think ill of ourselves, that we often purposely turn away our view from those circumstances which might render that judgment unfavourable.
Rather than see ourselves as we truly are, we see ourselves as we would like to be.
He is a bold surgeon, they say, whose hand does not tremble when he performs an operation upon his own person; and he is often equally bold who does not hesitate to pull off the mysterious veil of self-delusion, which covers from his view the deformities of his own conduct.
This self-deceit, this fatal weakness of mankind, is the source of half the disorders of human life. If we saw ourselves in the light in which others see us, or in which they would see us if they knew all, a reformation would generally be unavoidable. We could not otherwise endure the sight.
Our continual observations upon the conduct of others, insensibly lead us to form to ourselves certain general rules concerning what is fit and proper either to be done or to be avoided.
But Smith presents another possibility: we say these things not only to convince others but also to convince ourselves.
It’s hard to say which idea is more depressing—that we fail to be lovely because we aren’t lovely or because we’ve fooled ourselves into thinking we are. We not only hide our deformities behind the mysterious veil of self-delusion—we transform our deformities into virtues. That’s how hard it is for us to face the impartial spectator.
The Universe is full of dots. Connect the right ones and you can draw anything. The important question is not whether the dots you picked are really there, but why you chose to ignore all the others.
So they manage somehow to convince themselves that the data on the other side of the argument are flawed or the studies are done by hacks or pawns of special interests.
We are drunks looking for our lost keys under a lamppost not because that’s where we lost our keys but because that’s where the light is.
Everyone can explain why the stock market rose or fell yesterday. No one can predict what it will do tomorrow. It’s all just ex post facto storytelling—the narrative fallacy.
When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail.
Nassim Taleb points out that a map is very helpful for getting around Paris. But not if the map you’re using is a map of New York. Using the wrong map unknowingly is worse than no map at all—it leads you to overconfidence that can be more harmful than confronting the reality that you’re lost.
Humility is an acquired taste.
“The sea gets deeper as you go further into it.”
What can be added to the happiness of the man who is in health, who is out of debt, and has a clear conscience?
money and fame don’t lead to happiness.
Smith says the owner of such a watch might get rid of it and pay a premium for a watch that is dramatically more accurate. But, Smith complains, the owner of the better watch may not be any more punctual than he was with the timepiece that performed more poorly. He bought the better watch simply because it is a superior gadget, not to make his life any better:
How many people ruin themselves by laying out money on trinkets of frivolous utility?
The great source of both the misery and disorders of human life, seems to arise from over-rating the difference between one permanent situation and another.
Some of those situations may, no doubt, deserve to be preferred to others: but none of them can deserve to be pursued with that passionate ardour which drives us to violate the rules either of prudence or of justice;
The qualities most useful to ourselves are, first of all, superior reason and understanding, by which we are capable of discerning the remote consequences of all our actions, and of foreseeing the advantage or detriment which is likely to result from them: and secondly, self-command, by which we are enabled to abstain from present pleasure or to endure present pain, in order to obtain a greater pleasure or to avoid a greater pain in some future time. In the union of those two qualities consists the virtue of prudence, of all the virtues that which is most useful to the individual.
Smith sees nothing wrong with what we moderns call success. It’s the passionate pursuit of success that corrodes the soul,
That kings are the servants of the people, to be obeyed, resisted, deposed, or punished, as the public conveniency may require, is the doctrine of reason and philosophy; but it is not the doctrine of Nature.
Nor is this only an assumed appearance: for if we are at all masters of ourselves, the presence of a mere acquaintance will really compose us, still more than that of a friend; and that of an assembly of strangers still more than that of an acquaintance.
when we pull ourselves together in front of a group of strangers we’re not just putting up a brave front.
the stranger’s inability to fully sympathize with our situation, actually has a beneficial effect.
Whenever we cordially congratulate our friends, which, however, to the disgrace of human nature, we do but seldom,

