Pernicious Aristotelian "Nonsense"

Ah, Aristotle. The ancient Greek philosopher, often heralded as the father of logic and reason, the man who basically wrote the user manual for thinking. His Nicomachean Ethics is like the philosophical equivalent of a highly organized bookshelf: everything in its proper place, neat and tidy. But like a bookshelf stuffed with books no one has read, some of his ideas—while well-structured—remain remarkably… irrelevant.

Now, before we dive headfirst into this pool of Aristotelian nonsense, allow me to introduce myself: I am Pseudo-Sophos, your guide to all things philosophical, here to unravel the tightly wound logic of Aristotle and reveal the absurdity beneath. Consider me a kind of existential jester, whose job it is to make the complex a tad more absurd, just for you.

The "Golden Mean": The Art of Living Mediocrely

Let’s start with one of Aristotle’s most famous ideas: the "Golden Mean." The idea is simple: avoid extremes, and always strive for moderation. It sounds nice in theory, doesn't it? Be neither too brave nor too cowardly, neither too generous nor too stingy. Be… well, just right. In theory, it would be a guide for living an ideal life, but in practice? It’s like buying a GPS that tells you to go straight, left, straight, left—forever.

For example, let’s say you’re at a dinner party. Aristotle’s Golden Mean suggests that you shouldn’t talk too much (that’s excessive), but you shouldn’t be silent either (that’s deficient). So, what do you do? You say exactly enough to not appear rude, but not so much that you bore everyone. The result? You become the human equivalent of beige wallpaper.

Let’s take a closer look at a real-life example: You’re trying to impress someone with your cooking skills. Aristotle would tell you to avoid over-salting your pasta (extreme) but also avoid under-salting it (another extreme). The solution? Salt it just enough to make it “pleasant,” but not “too much.” This is Aristotle's Golden Mean at its finest—mediocrity masquerading as virtue. Is that really the best way to live?

Example from the Living World: Try explaining the Golden Mean to a millennial who’s been inundated with the idea that “being extra” is a personality trait. I bet Aristotle would find himself baffled, trying to figure out where exactly on the spectrum of excess he should land in the modern world.

The Pseudonym Gambit: "A" vs. "B"—The Battle of the Middle Ground

Now, Imagine two characters: Aesthetikos, a man of pure pleasure who believes life is about indulging in the fleeting joys of art, food, and drink; and Ethikos, a man of pure ethics who believes life is about duty, responsibility, and, most importantly, balance.

In this battle of ideas, Ethikos would naturally be the fan of Aristotle, constantly admonishing us to avoid extremes, while Aesthetikos would laugh in his face and say, “What’s the point of balance when life is so much more fun at the edges?” In fact, if you asked Aesthetikos, he might prefer his pasta extra salty, because why settle for 'just right' when you can have a little chaos in the flavor?

Yet, Aristotle’s moderation often fails to capture the full range of human experience. Life is not just about the “middle path”; sometimes it’s about the wild extremes that lead to personal growth, or even, dare I say, self-discovery. How do you know you're brave unless you’ve been terrified out of your mind? How can you experience true joy if you haven’t tasted despair?

The Real-Life Aristotelian Nonsense

To ground this all in reality, let’s look at a modern example. Think about the world of corporate life, where everything is about finding the “balance” between work and leisure. This Aristotelian nonsense has led to the rise of self-help gurus who speak in vague, overly polished tones about finding that "perfect balance." They sell courses about being perfectly productive, but also taking time for yourself. Work hard, but not too hard. Rest, but don’t rest too much. All in the name of balance.

But what do we end up with? A generation of overworked people trying to “optimize” every second of their day while simultaneously feeling guilty for not being “balanced.” And so, the endless cycle continues. Moderation becomes the new source of stress. Is this the wisdom of Aristotle? Or is it, perhaps, the absurdity of a philosophy that insists on treading water in a sea of contradictions?

Here’s the punchline: The more you strive for balance, the more you find yourself caught in a web of mediocrity. True wisdom isn’t about finding the "perfect balance." It’s about diving into the chaos, making mistakes, embracing extremes—and perhaps, just perhaps, realizing that balance is a mirage created by those who fear the unknown.

In the end, Aristotle’s Golden Mean might just be a neat little concept designed to comfort those who are afraid of living fully. As we plunge into the complexities of life, we might just discover that the only real way to navigate the world is to embrace its chaos, rather than seek some elusive middle ground.

So, dear reader, the next time someone tells you to “find balance,” smile politely and ask them: Are you sure that's where the fun is?

And thus, in the echo of this question, we find our Ah-moment: Sometimes, the greatest wisdom comes not from walking the tightrope of moderation, but from jumping off the edge into the unknown.