It is very early in the morning and the sun is still hiding beyond the horizon. I am sitting on my couch, drinking coffee and looking out of the window to the sky. A new day is about to start and I am fully part of it. “But what about my own renewal? Do I become new every day?” This thought is so typical of me – of the little girl, many years ago, who used to look at the sky and ask herself questions about life, about herself and reality.
I was that girl. Much later in life, I learned that famous philosophers had similar questions, and they developed various theories in response to them. Centuries passed since then, but the questions remained. They reflect the essence of being, of our human condition and nature – they reflect the different dimensions of life that persist throughout the ages. I also learned with time that these questions were inherent in me, and that I was always on the wave of the philosophical spirit. I was looking for the essence of reality and life. And then, recently, I encountered Deep Philosophy, and started learning how to explore possible answers with the help of philosophical texts.
The next morning, I was sitting again on my couch, and everything seemed like the previous morning. But there was one change: In the meantime, I had read a passage from the book Emile, Or on Education by Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), the French philosopher who influenced profoundly the Age of Enlightenment. His book Emile was banned and publicly burned in Paris and Geneva right after its publication in 1762. Interestingly, the same book influenced the national system of education during the French Revolution.
What was so unique about this book that it was burned and then became a national model for education? It went against the traditional view of society as the vehicle of enlightenment, and argued that society often lowers us instead of elevating us, because it distorts something very valuable in us: our authentic nature, our true self. It argued that our natural self is good and valuable, and that society forces us to wear a social mask over it and to play social games, and thus it alienates us from our true nature.
This was a complete reversal of the accepted value of culture-above-nature, and it scandalized many readers. As Rousseau explains:
“God makes all things good; man interferes with them and they become evil. He forces one soil to produce the products of another soil, one tree to bear the fruit of another tree. He confuses and mixes time, place, and natural conditions. He mutilates his dog, his horse, and his slave. He destroys and spoils all things. He loves everything that is deformed and monstrous. He is not satisfied with anything as nature made it, not even with man himself, who must learn his steps like a riding-horse, and be adjusted to his master’s taste like the trees in his garden.”
Is it possible at all to become my real self, I wondered, to encounter my true nature? This passage does not sound promising! While still sitting on my couch and drinking my coffee, I started an inner dialogue with Rousseau…
What are my social masks? What happens to me when I am alienated from my true nature? I must admit, I do play social games. I remembered several situations where I interfered and manipulated, because I presented myself differently from who I was in order to fit in, or to get what I wanted. In one situation, I found myself sitting in front of a committee, which wanted to know why I should receive a scholarship for an exchange study program. The committee members asked me how I would represent my home university in a good light at the exchange university. On the spot I invented an answer, saying to them what I thought they wanted to hear. Surprisingly, I sounded so convincing! Evidently, I managed to hide my real thoughts. My anxiety of not getting the scholarship was greater than my desire to express my real thoughts and intentions. I put on a social mask in order to get what I wanted. Was this for the good in the end?
The other event that came to my mind while contemplating on Rousseau’s text Emile was a meeting with a friend of a friend who had asked me for help. I felt the dissonance between him and me right away, and the next two hours proved me right. The conversation did not flow at all, and I was not interested to help him. While my mind wandered away to more interesting thoughts, I played the good listener, gave short answers, asked questions, smiled here and there. He seemed to be comfortable and did not even notice my lack of interest in his stories. Once again, I hid my real self and put on a social mask of politeness and kindness. Was this for the good in the end?
In both occasions, though, I was successful: I got the scholarship, which made me very happy. And the friend’s friend felt that I had helped him and wanted to meet me again; although this time I could escape by saying: “I am sorry, I am leaving the country for a while”. In both cases I was exhausted by the effort to hide my real self and be inauthentic. I suppressed my real nature and observed my fake self from the outside, as if I was watching a theater scene.
How can I change this behavior in me for the sake of authenticity? Rousseau’s answer is this: Only appropriate education can lead us to become our real self.
“We are born weak, we need strength. We are helpless, we need aid. We are foolish, we need reason. All that we lack at birth, all that we need when we come to man’s world, is the gift of education. This education comes to us from nature, from people, or from things. From the education of nature comes the inner growth of our organs and faculties. From the education of men we learn how to use this growth. From the education of things we learn what we gain by our experience of our surroundings.”
The key to becoming authentic is appropriate education. In the end, the question is: Who do you want to be? Becoming an authentic person is an ongoing process. You reach it when you no longer have any desire to be different from who you are. This I learned from Emile:
“He knows how he should seek his own happiness in life, and how he can contribute to the happiness of others. His sphere of knowledge is restricted to what is profitable. His path is narrow and clearly defined. […] Emile is a man of common sense and he has no desire to be anything more.”
I was still sitting on my couch, looking out of the window like some moments ago… But something changed: The coffee got cold and the sun was already above the horizon…