Winston Churchill: Thought and Action

Winston Churchill is someone who took Life seriously. But are men split by two different paths toward a great Life?

“But now I pity undergraduates, when I see what frivolous lives many of them lead in the midst of precious fleeting opportunity. After all, a man’s Life must be nailed to a cross either of Thought or Action. Without work there is no play.”

Churchill has “pity” for undergraduates who waste their schooling; pity is different from disdain or holding anger. He actually has sympathy for them because he was once the same way – Churchill was often faced with academic probation and worse in his early education.

Later, Churchill talks about his own Republic, recalling Plato’s ideal society. If Churchill had it his way, only people who truly wanted to learn would be in school. ‘Life’ is not something to be taken lightly. Likewise, there is a difference between ‘thought’ and ‘Thought,’ as there is also a difference between ‘action’ and ‘Action.’

Socrates comments that justice might be something like “minding your own business.” In Plato’s dialogues like the Euthyphro, Socrates, as a thinker on the highest plane, can never really act out on his Thought. This explains why one must be “nailed to a cross” either of one or the other.

As political beings, we need utility, which is why Congress doesn’t merely think all day about what should be done, but tries to make a good decision. There are no Socratic figures in DC. However, we also don’t want a bunch of Oedipus types running around, who act without knowing what they are doing.

When Churchill liberated undeveloped British territories, he felt that he was shining light into a dark place; the civil British life was a gift, and it took Winston going into the breach to give it. This type of ‘Action’ was more meaningful than the technical trade employed by a mason or welder. I think Churchill sees the necessity for these kinds of people, but they just have to realize that there are higher things in life they could be doing.

The problem is deep ‘Thought’ is required to inform the decision to ‘Act.’ It’s not clear that we can have both, but Churchill seems to think he had done it.

More on this later...

Harriet Jacobs: Religion in the Slaveholding South

Religion formed an important part of Harriet Jacobs’ life, as seen in her Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, even though the institution tried to corrupt her piety. Also true of Frederick Douglass’ narrative, Southern plantation life contorted religion into something it is not: Jacobs’ early conception of piety is exactly the stuff of Tolkien’s Mordor, where Sauron’s handmaidens sketch their ‘innocence’ in comforting platitudes and with sophistry condemn the truly just and good.

It is interesting that slaves had religion at all. In Aristotle’s Politics, he says that religion requires a certain amount of luxury and ease to believe that ‘the good’ can be sought and maintained. It is hard to see why this is necessary, until modern philosophy developed the idea of nihilism; Nothingness as the only truth. Belief in Nothing comes from a tragic experience of life, and one can see why this could happen: imagine sharing love with your mother, who is suddenly whipped, has a bloodhound let loose on her and then is sold to another place far away. It is not difficult to imagine anybody living like this laughing outright at the concept of a caring God. In this world, love leads inevitably to suffering; the only way anybody does escape suffering is by chance (cf. Nietzsche’s Beyond Good and Evil).

Religion has a hard time adequately addressing the idea of ‘chance,’ which is why the Calvinist’s predestination is difficult for modern people of more affluence (thus having less need to address chance) to understand. However, whatever myth somebody believes, it is more acceptable when one is on chance’s good side: through the early years of her life, Jacobs “was so fondly shielded that [she] never dreamed [she] was a piece of merchandise, trusted to [her owners] for safekeeping, and liable to be demanded of them at any moment” (281). Because Jacobs had a relatively good life in her youth, her grandmother was able to imbue a sense of morality and faith into her. It seems to be a general rule that most of the younger slaves in Jacobs’ narrative believed without apology in a just God: Jacobs relates the story of a mother beside her daughter (she was dying in labor with a child) told by her mistress, “Heaven! There is no such place for the like of [your daughter] and her bastard.” The girl replied, “Don’t grieve so, mother; God knows all about it; and HE will have mercy upon me” (287).

Although this girl of fifteen years believed God would save her, it seems terribly morbid she felt that salvation came only by death. On the plantation, most thought the justice of God only appeared in afterlife; it was hard to see Providence (“Who knows the ways of God?” says Jacobs’ grandmother [284]), and thus an otherworldly sanction became the only tether to faith. Piety and morality were capable of only the most devout since God’s work was literally nowhere to be seen.

This was true for mainly one reason. Religion was crafted by the ruling class to fully exclude blacks, and in fact to make blacks enemies with it. When her child was to be baptized, Jacobs says, “My grandmother belonged to the church; and she was very desirous of having the children christened. I knew Dr. Flint would forbid it, and I did not venture to attempt it” (295). Jacobs did end up baptizing the child after Dr. Flint went away for his medical practice, but this episode clearly shows how religion was discouraged among slaves; whites opposed black participation in religion on the ground that they were not good enough ‘things,’ let alone people.

Why this is important can be explained: in Plato’s Republic, Socrates discusses with Glaucon and Adeimantus the idea that the most moral person is the one who has the reputation in the polis as the most immoral, yet still seeks ‘the good;’ in the Christian story, Jesus was not exactly a rockstar everywhere he went – a lot of people hated him. Because it requires a tremendous beatitude to continue this sort of life, many abandon the castigating path of piety for lower standards. Conversely, says Plato, the most immoral are those who create a façade of morality while truly being wicked. In his Duke of Marlborough, Churchill writes of one such person, Louis XIV:

“No worse enemy of human freedom has ever appeared in the trappings of polite civilization. Insatiable appetite, cold, calculating ruthlessness, monumental conceit, presented themselves armed with fire and sword. The veneer of culture and good manners, of brilliant ceremonies and elaborate etiquette, only adds a heightening effect to the villainy of his life's story.”

For Churchill, the villainy is that ‘the bad’ was presented as ‘good.’ It helps to recall how appealing the snake appeared in Eden; his artificial ‘goodness’ was something Eve could not resist, and considering his true motives, this made the snake purely Satanic.

In Jacobs’ narrative, most people fall somewhere in between these two poles, except for Dr. Flint. He tried to sell Jacobs’ grandmother in private, saying it was out of respect for her, when it was truly to escape his own humiliation (285). In another case, Dr. Flint caped his dubious motives for trying to send Jacobs to an isolated living space as “trying to make a lady of [her]” (288). Since people like Dr. Flint were presented as moral beings to the community, a real problem arose for the religiosity of slaves, because (especially for those who could read Scripture like Jacobs) it contradicted the idea of God and justice: “…the condition of the slave confuses all principles of morality, and, in fact, renders the practice of them impossible” (291).

The simple fact of the matter is that civil life, where one could base what one saw on rationality, was far different than slave life, where passions drove decisions. Literally nothing that happened on the plantation made sense on any level: clouded rationality was itself what prevented whites from seeing blacks as political equals (cf. Peter C. Myers’ Our Only Star and Compass). Yet eventually, Jacobs became free and religion was restored to its righteous place in her life, as she concludes, “It does not require man’s praise to obtain rest in God’s kingdom” (315). But to come near that reality would be, recalling The Lord of the Rings, the same as believing the coarse, jarring bellow of Gandalf portending the ills of the Eye while Saruman sweetly expounds his affliction with a mellifluous tongue.

Was Benjamin Franklin a Self-Made Man?

Franklin is often looked to as the archetype of the 'American dream.' However, some would say that Franklin depended heavily upon an exclusive nexus and a fortunate pedigree to win his success. The following is part of a paper I did a while ago on Franklin (page numbers from The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin):

And yes, it's true that connections, a rigid honor code, the ipso facto reputations of a hypocritical, young class of gentlemen, domestic obligations, and money all hamstrung Franklin’s life. But republicanism shattered the idea of a hereditary basis for exclusion or inclusion into upper society. In Franklin’s stories, he revealed the “discovery that the thing [my emphasis] is in many a man’s private power.” Franklin’s ‘thing’ - inherent ability - allowed him to rise from low to high, and his connections to all facets of society show this.

In the opening pages of The Autobiography, Franklin explains how he “emerg’d from the Poverty & Obscurity in which [he] was born & bred, to a State of Affluence & some Degree of Reputation in the World…” (p. 27). However, his family was not exactly of the groveling, unlearned multitude. Franklin related that his uncle Thomas became a “Scrivener…a considerable Man in the County Affairs…” (p. 30). His mother was also of distinguished pedigree. Nevertheless, any fortunes in the colonies in general were paltry compared to those overseas. Even John Hancock’s inheritance and estate, one of the largest in New England, was laughable in London. Additionally, Franklin noted that the family and particularly his father seemed aware of “Decent Plainness & manly Freedom” (p. 32). Josiah Franklin, Benjamin’s father, moved to America in 1682. He was recognized for his outstanding virtues of prudence, and his “Judgment and Advice” (p. 34). Franklin had to prove his mettle before he was even allowed to consider the risky prospect of the newspaper industry. He was first hesitantly ushered into theological studies, but found his gift for argumentation and writing trumped what would have been a mostly self-centered religious education. In fact, Franklin shared a trait among countrymen that - if not entirely regional - was fittingly of the emerging American character. Booming, somewhat nomadic, populations poured in and out of urban centers seeking change, in what Tocqueville referred to as the Americans’ view of the volatile ‘State of Nature,’ broadly understood. Mobility was surely an impetus to equality as it disallowed long-enduring alliances and coalitions to develop.

Despite this adventure seeking and dynamic environment, family members such as Franklin’s older brother drew upon time-honored customs, often treating his smaller sibling as a servant. Their relationship suffered when Benjamin rose up and ‘threatened’ his brother’s success by finding his own (p. 44). The prospect of Benjamin’s success was a pill his brother simply could not swallow. The advent of Franklin's new success as a writer along with his edification in public services showed humility in word and deed. Franklin spurred new projects by printing journals and publications; but before this happened, Franklin ran these new ideas by some of his trusted colleagues, and projects had to first go through the gauntlet in his Junto’s deliberations, which tested the viability of such endeavors. However, Franklin did not advance self-aggrandizement, nor did the success or failure of the projects rely on his own name. He always cited the greater public good. For example, he insisted that a new education system was the work of “publick-spirited Gentlemen” (p. 125). His proposals did not carry a tone of condescension, as if they were the alms from an overseer to his pawn. Rather, Franklin appealed to fraternity and friendship. He made his own investment in the project seem modest and unimportant, or at least on an equal plane to everyone else. Through their own donation and efforts, it was up to individuals to collectively play a role in the internal improvements of the city.

Summing up Franklin’s ideas on improvements, it is appropriate to say that he understood the individual’s self-sufficiency and utility - even if ostensibly trivial - was better than gratuitous bestowals of material wealth. “Thus if you teach a poor young Man to shave himself and keep his Razor in order, you may contribute more to the Happiness of his Life than in giving him 1,000 Guineas. The money may soon be spent…But in the other case…he shaves when most convenient to him” (p. 134). Self-sufficiency would be widely understood as a vital element of the emerging nation. It would afford the common man freedom; but it is important to note that teaching is a required part of this process of liberation - one does not attain 'freedom' alone.

As for Franklin’s business affairs, he certainly was aided by the help of affluent and charitable men. Franklin could hardly fund passage to Pennsylvania, much less set up there, but not all those that Franklin encountered were generous or even honest. Printers generally had little education. Andrew Bradford and Keimer were described as such, the latter being “a good deal of a Knave in his composition” (p. 50). Besides having unsharpened faculties, these men lacked the integrity Franklin found important to business. While he worked slowly at finding a share in the market, he says:

“My old Competitor’s Newspaper declin’d proportionably…Thus He suffer’d greatly from his Neglect in due Accounting; and I mention it as a Lesson to those young Men who may be employ’d in managing Affairs for others that they should always render Accounts & make Remittances, with great Clearness and Punctuality.—The Character of observing Such a Conduct is the most powerful of all Recommendations to new Employments & Increase of Business” (p. 112).

In his Democracy in America, Tocqueville would later note that money was, notoriously, the American’s main ambition. It is interesting to see how money affected Franklin’s relationships, as it often strained them when one party fell on hard times. After Keimer rehired Franklin to help train new employees, the two had a falling out when the former, “being in the Street look’d up & saw [Franklin], called out to [him] in a loud and angry Tone to mind [his] Business…” (p. 71). This was not an isolated incident – it was the physical result of an extended period in which Keimer exerted undue psychological cruelty over Franklin. Immediately after this episode, Franklin quit.

In Franklin's relationships, there was surely an element of benevolence, pure charity, and camaraderie, but it cannot be denied that money soured even Franklin’s experience. Yet these occurrences should serve to verify Franklin’s credibility. In each case, the other party imploded as the result of their own abuse, fettering Franklin by threatening his finances and networking. These threats were made when Ralph and Keimer were pressured by repercussions of their own actions (namely, their pandering), having nothing to do with Franklin. Ironically, it did not take Franklin long to realize these tyrants were more dependent than Franklin himself. Of bullies, this is always true. Thus he overcame dubious business arrangements and friction in personal relationships by keeping his honor and scruples intact.

Franklin never supposed himself to be inherently better than Ralph or Keimer, or in fact anyone. By expressing himself in a meek fashion he entered the realm of high politics and found success—he was seen moderate and just. Franklin relates how shedding light on a political enemy’s self-worth helped his own cause after he asked him for help in some task: “He that has once done you a Kindness will be more ready to do you another, than he whom you yourself have obliged” (p. 112). Paternalism was ill received. It supposed that one party was superior and granted the other favors they could not accomplish alone. Status in society depended on the trust and fondness of others toward oneself bred by union - not authority. In his talk of Mr. Morris, the new governor from England, he says:

“He had some Reason for loving to dispute, being eloquent, an acute Sophister, and therefore generally successful in argumentative Conversation…But I think the Practice was not wise, for in the Course of my Observation, these disputing, contradicting & confuting People are generally unfortunate in their Affairs. They get victory sometimes, but they never get Good Will, which would be of more use to them” (p. 137).


From these relationships, and by Franklin’s reflection upon them, one can see that his success largely hinged on how others perceived him, but this does not mean that he was not self-made. His life was always open to civic audit, and as such, rested on the qualities of accountability, integrity, and diligence. The fragility of reputation in the colonies may have dictated some of Franklin’s actions and made him dependent on others, but it was not dependence in its old sense. This dependence was reciprocal and fraternal — not unrequited and feudal. To clarify, ‘rich’ men who are not self-made do not deserve their wealth. They are bred into it; it belongs to them only because of who they are, and not because of what they can do. To be sure, hereditary wealth does furnish cultured men with a bearing for literature, science and the arts. But this wisdom has an egocentric purpose, as if grasping the nuances of Athenian Greek tragedies, skilled discussion of Baroque influence on architecture, or naming Michelangelo’s works chronologically is in itself virtue. In quite the reverse, the self-made man’s knowledge is only important insofar as it advances his judgment, insight, and will to beautify and illuminate others — just as his education, and thus his virtue, has done for him. It may be true that Franklin had some vanity, but far more importantly, he shared his acumen when the Spanish grandees, English aristocracy, French lords, Chinese literati or Russian landowners would not have.