Simplicity—A Nostalgic Dream and a Philosophical Reflection
by Albrecht Classen
We Westerners live in a world that is swamped with stuff. We almost drown in things that surround us, whether it is in the pantry, the fridge, the closet, the garage, or the living room. No one has an empty desk anymore; every cupboard is cluttered with dishes; the walls are covered with images, insignia, awards, trophies, and the like. Every high schooler is swamped with those cheap plastic awards. I myself have so many shirts hanging in my closet that I know for sure that there will be many of them at the moment of my death that I will not have worn much at all during my entire life time. When we open the door to our shoe compartment, the pairs of shoes are simply tumbling down upon us. Will we ever wear them, or are they only there because we bought them at one point in time and never bothered putting them on, or giving away to a needy person?
Is that the case for everyone, in the West? Is poverty a shameful mark of the past? Has postmodernity provided us all with so much wealth that we no longer have to worry about the future? Of course not! The army of homeless, even in the richest cities in North America or Europe, is swelling, and the number of migrants, refugees, or asylum seekers is growing daily, and this despite the extraordinary growth of wealth, especially on the stock market, at least for a few unbelievably rich. Some people own so much that it is mind-boggling, and others are so miserably impoverished that they might suffer death any moment when the weather is changing or when they contract a sickness. Some people live in bombastic palaces or do not even know how many houses they own or how many maids, servants, and gardeners they employ, others cannot even afford an air-conditioning in their hovel, and when the average temperatures during the hot summers keep rising, scores of people tend to die, simply because they are too poor to afford a comfortable level of coolness without which the body is forced to work overtime to balance the outside heat.
This is a jeremiad we have heard before, and the vast discrepancies between the super rich and the dirt poor is not a completely new phenomenon of our day and age. We could lament that the CEO of Amazon owns considerably more in personal funds than many countries have as their annual budget, but we could also point to many medieval princes, for instance, who were infinitely wealthy compared to their downtrodden subjects, the poor peasants, or, even worse, the ordinary beggars on the streets, homeless already then.
What would life be like if it could be simpler? Less money, less gadgets, less food, less clothing, less property, less worries, less conflicts, less paperwork, less strife, less hatred, and more peacefulness, more tranquility, more satisfaction, more of a healthy lifestyle, more joy, and better sleep. Where is the right balance, and how can we extricate ourselves from an ever more complex world around us that threatens to control our existence, and not the other way around? Do we need all that stuff? What do we really want? Wealth or happiness?
Ok, granted, poverty does not lead automatically to tranquility and physical health. The really poor can enter into just as bitter fights and suffer from as much hatred as the really rich. Simplicity, thus, does not necessarily imply a monetary condition. It can also refer to a phenomenon in aesthetics, mathematics, music, architecture, religion, or mechanics. Our modern cars, for instance, represent increasing challenges and require that the driver is fully trained in operating a complex computer display, almost like an airplane pilot. If there is a mechanical problem with the engine, only expert mechanics in the garage can come to the rescue because there is nothing simple in the machine any more. Self-help is almost impossible because everything has become extraordinarily complex and dependent on highly sophisticated training to operate the daily objects surrounding us.
For me, I admit, it is now almost impossible to turn on the TV when I am staying in a hotel room. The remote represents an enigmatic object with many buttons, one more mysterious than the other. How about the modern washing machine at home? What soaking, washing, spinning, drying, or other cycle would I have to choose for white, blue, red, cotton, silk, cashmere, acrylic, or blended textiles? What temperature levels are required for the various types of fabric? At home, we still have an old machine, really simple, for three categories: small, medium, or large load, nothing else, and all works out just fine. For most other people, I guess, such simplicity is not the case, and they have to figure out the challenging task every time they need to do a wash.
The issue here is simplicity, a noble ideal, but difficult to achieve or even to describe. In math, for instance, a simple formula is a brilliant idea; in architecture, a simple model for a new house seems to be much more appealing than a lavish palace that amounts to nothing but a kitsch building (Elliott Sober, Simplicity, 1975). A simple income facilitates doing one’s taxes, and there will be much more restful nights during that process than in the case of a complex income pattern combined with many shady deals. The more wealth one accumulates, the more worries emerge that thieves could take it all away, that weather conditions might threaten it, or that the neighbors become jealous and envy our properties. Let’s face it, in most cases we only need a vehicle that takes us efficiently from point A to point B. When a bird leaves its dropping on the hood of your car, and it is already of an older vintage, you simply take some water and rub it off. No big deal. When there are new scratches on the side of the car, you can study with interest the fascinating patterns, without worrying about the loss of the pure sheen of the metal.
Beach property is, of course, highly desirable, unless, of course, the house is at risk of being flooded by the next storm hitting the coast. Buying a new car is a wonderful thing and can make the driver rather proud, until, of course, hooligans have scratched the sides or smashed the windows. This is the same with all objects that we purchase. As soon as we have acquired them, we face the terrible realization of their contingency, and that makes us scared.
There are countless other situations, objects, relationships, work conditions, and social structures where simplicity proves to be superior to complexity. The more friends one has, the more tensions and difficulties enter the picture because each person represents an idiosyncratic character. Is there anywhere at least one good friend? What does a simple social relationship imply?
All this is not to say that we should aim for impoverishment, ignorance, boredom, and loneliness. Simplicity represents a good balance, meeting one’s needs, enjoying some extras, but being content with what one has. In a way, this finds its direct reflection in the arts and in architecture, for example, since a functional but also comfortable and appealing building appears to be more attractive for many people than a highly decorated, disharmonious, bombastic building. There is certainly beauty in a Baroque palace, but without its tranquil gardens and harmonious proportions, the overwhelming employment of sculptures, arches, columns, and paintings can easily cause a sense of unrest and submission. Maybe that is the reason why all those buildings influenced by the Palladio style (Monticello [Virginia], the Cathedral of Helsinki, and the many rural villas in the Veneto [northern Italy]), why the intriguing cloisters of Gothic and Romanesque monasteries, or why some very modern churches fully integrated into nature appeal so deeply to us today. Simplicity is the key word in this regard. The more valuable our objects are, the more we are afraid of losing them or of seeing them damaged. Oddly, this is also the case with all our social contacts.
According to the old proverb: better alone than in bad company, we are constantly surrounded by relatives, friends, colleagues, and neighbors, and if we do not have at least 1000 friends on Facebook, something seems to be wrong with us. But many of those contacts are only superficial at best, and we can hardly ever talk about ‘true friends’ in any of those categories. Quantity in terms of human relations has never yielded into quality; a simple lifestyle with a few but good friends seems to be highly preferable over a complex lifestyle with many but untrustworthy friends who leave the individual as soon as misfortune strikes him/her (Boethius, On the Consolation of Philosophy, ca. 525).
When we are faced with a problem, a task, a challenge, or a demand to find a solution, we could go about it in a circuitous way, or we could solve it in a simple fashion, as Leonardo da Vinci, or someone else, is famously said to have formulated: “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” (https://quoteinvestigator.com/2015/04/02/simple/). Hans Hoffman, an abstract expressionist painter (1880-1966), once formulated, “The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so the necessary may speak.” Alan R. Cohen recently noted with regard to the ideal surgeon: “The finest surgeons practice economy of movement, with 1 action blending into the next. Nothing appears hurried. Every action has a purpose and there are no unnecessary maneuvers” (Neurosurgery 65. Suppl. 1[2018]: 15-23; here 18).
How about simple food? Undoubtedly, I do not mind at all to enjoy a sumptuous meal in an elegant restaurant once in a while. But how would I know how to enjoy the extravagant food if I do not even feel hungry? If there are so many sorts of wine to choose from, and I am afraid of getting drunk already, how could I then still enjoy another exquisite Bordeaux, or a Pinot Noir? There is nothing wrong with cooking a complex dinner, especially when friends are expected to join us. However, with respect to simplicity, some of the greatest moments of happiness in terms of food have been when I was really hungry after a long day without anything to eat, and was then rewarded with a simple piece of bread, with nothing on it except for a little salt sprinkled on the surface? Can anyone imagine the absolute joy and satisfaction of drinking a glass of water after one has been completely parched for a long time while hiking without a chance of getting any fluids? Recently, it was about dinner time and I had starved already for hours, I got hold of a potato and discovered that a thin slice uncooked with a little salt completely satisfied my hunger and also my palates. The crunchy potato was so simple, and so rich. Indeed, it was like an epiphany, the potato and I.
According to the Rule of the Secular Franciscan Order, simplicity constitutes a high ideal, but it does not aim at self-imposed poverty; instead, simplicity implies a detachment from material goods and a freedom from our physical needs that are so easily met. Everything else is luxury and adds only layers after layers of artificial need determined not by our own self, but by the standards imposed on us by social pressure. By contrast, the ideals of the Franciscans can speak to us deeply, maybe even louder today than ever before: “Let the Secular Franciscans seek a proper spirit of detachment from temporal goods by simplifying their own material needs. Let them be mindful that according to the gospel they are stewards of the goods received for the benefit of God’s children.” By the same token, we also learn: “A way of living that enriches us spirituality. Simplicity guides us away from compulsive extravagance, it declutters the mind and gives us peace. Living a life of detachment and simplicity calls us to action. It is a discipline. We have to make conscious decisions and choices to follow the example Francis gave us. (both at: http://franciscanseculars.com/the-assisi-spirit-of-franciscan-simplicity/; last accessed on Oct. 19, 2019).
To pursue a life of simplicity does not require sainthood, and not even personal deprivation. Simplicity is a mind-set, a form of detachment from the material constraints, combined with a spiritual freedom that makes life easier, happier, smoother, and more fulfilling. The next time, for instance, when we lose something that we had cherished, such as a piece of clothing, a tool, a CD, or whatever made us happy, we should not lament this loss so much because the object is gone and cannot be retrieved. Instead, we should realize that we had been privileged to enjoy that object for some time until it was taken away from us again. Everything has its own lifetime, and nothing really belongs to us. As Boethius already taught us so insightfully, the achievement of true happiness begins at that moment when we free ourselves from the power of Fortune and accept that everything is contingent, i.e., completely stable. Not even our own health is a given and can be gone at any moment. Once we lose things, even friends or loved ones, we must realize that we could never have held onto them because there is nothing like full possession, or personal property. All things break at some point, and even the best friendships might not last forever. However, as long as we have them, we can also enjoy them. Simplicity is thus not a strategy or value to withdraw from this world; on the contrary. To be simple in mind constitutes inner freedom, the removal of external needs, and the flexibility to use whatever is available to us for the best purpose. According to Confucius, “Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” For Leo Tolstoy, “There is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth.” And Paulo Coelho emphasized: “Elegance is achieved when all that is superfluous has been discarded and the human being discovers simplicity and concentration: the simpler and more sober the posture, the more beautiful it will be.” In short, true philosophy consists of discovering the way toward simplicity and the embracing of its ideals. In fact, most things that occupy our minds and daily lives are nothing but laughable; the true essence rests deep inside and is always waiting for us, but it is not determined by profound complexity; instead, it is the simplicity of the heart and the mind, the uprightness, the trust and reliance that bond us all together. The less we need the richer we are; the less complex our life, the more balanced it will be.
