Introduction: The Question of Qoheleth’s Pessimism
Albert Camus famously opined that “there is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide.”Footnote 1 But one could argue that a question of even greater significance comes prior: not whether one should continue a life already being lived, but whether one should begin life in the first place. Contemporary philosopher David Benatar has recently advanced the self-evidently controversial claim that “coming into existence is always a serious harm.”Footnote 2 This answer to the question of life’s worth stands within the tradition of pessimism which stretches as far back as the Greek poet Theognis and the tragedians Sophocles and Euripides,Footnote 3 was revived in the nineteenth-century writings of Schopenhauer,Footnote 4 addressed by Nietzsche,Footnote 5 and is now represented within analytic philosophy most prominently by Benatar.
According to many of his readers, the ancient Hebrew sage Qoheleth fits squarely into this pessimistic stream, regarding life’s value with a grim nihilism that runs as thick as Benatar’s.Footnote 6 Prima facie grounding for this assertion is that Qoheleth, like Benatar, raises the issue of whether coming into existence may be a harm—and gives an affirmative answer. In the two “better”-statements under discussion in this paper, Eccl 6:3 and 4:3, Qoheleth declares that a hypothetical non-existent person is better off than their existing counterpart.Footnote 7 Yet the meaning and implication of the claim in both texts is far from obvious. Does Qoheleth imply that the non-exister’s state is paradigmatically and universally superior? Or is he instead speaking exceptionally, of particular people in particular circumstances?
In this essay, I will begin by articulating the primary argument advanced by David Benatar for his “anti-natalism” philosophy. Secondly, by examining Qoheleth’s two “better”-statements in their literary context, I will argue that he intends these examples as exceptions. He does not go so far as to make the supremely nihilistic claim that coming into existence is always, or even generally, a harm; yet he does concede that, in certain cases, it can be. Next, I will bring the two thinkers into dialogue, comparing certain aspects of Qoheleth’s argumentation with Benatar’s in order to discern why and where they part ways. Finally, I will conclude with a systematic schema for relating Qoheleth’s values.Footnote 8
A broader aim of this paper is to utilize the methodology Jaco Gericke has recently termed “philosophical criticism,”Footnote 9 but specifically applied to Qoheleth. While recent decades of Qoheleth scholarship have witnessed some degree of philosophical thinking about Qoheleth—most notably with regard to his epistemologyFootnote 10—the trend could benefit from additional scholarship in at least two respects: (a) the reference to philosophy has primarily been conducted from a traditional “biblical studies” perspective that may utilize some philosophical terms yet lacks the conceptual rigor of a deeper philosophical analysis of the texts; (b) several aspects of Qoheleth’s philosophy have yet remained unexplored, and chief among these is Qoheleth’s philosophy of value, arguably the most important lens through which to engage his worldview. My aim is to fill in what is lacking. By engaging Qoheleth in explicitly philosophical terms—in this case examining his views in relation to one contemporary philosopher of value—we may gain a more precise and systematic understanding of Qoheleth’s underlying philosophy of life’s value, which might otherwise remain opaque.
David Benatar’s “Anti-Natalism”
David Benatar claims that “coming into existence is always a serious harm,” or stated otherwise, that it is “better never to have been.”Footnote 11 What could justify such a claim? Before stating Benatar’s argument, we may consider a common intuitive conceptual framework for comparing the goods (pleasures) and harms (pains) of coming into existence versus those of remaining non-existent.Footnote 12 Under such a framework, it is the actual experiences of existing people, both pains and pleasures, that are compared with the hypothetical state of non-existence. Non-existence is, of course, characterized by absences (the absence of both pleasure and pain), while existence is marked by presences (the presence of both pleasure and pain). The absence of both pleasure and pain in non-existence would seem to render the overall value of this state as a “zero” (if put into quantitative terms)—neither positive nor negative, but value-neutral. If so, the question would then be whether the overall value of existence, with its presence of both pleasure and pain, will be greater or less than zero. A case against existence would presumably claim that life’s pains outweigh its pleasures, rendering the net sum a loss.
But that is not Benatar’s argument.Footnote 13 Instead, Benatar’s primary argument is an a priori argument, proceeding from definitional analysis rather than experiences. It analyzes the relative value of existence in comparison to non-existence by considering the way pleasure and pain inhere in either state as such (according to an assumed definition of that state), but this is done almost entirely apart from any consideration of the relative amounts of pleasure and pain actually experienced by existing persons.Footnote 14 To make this case—which he elsewhere calls the “Asymmetry Argument”Footnote 15—Benatar refers to a basic asymmetry between pleasure and pain. Benatar claims that when we consider bringing future humans into the world, the avoidance of pain is almost always prioritized above the possibility of experiencing pleasure. Thus, for instance, we feel an obligation not to bring into the world a child who would be subjected to a life of utter misery, yet we sense no corresponding obligation to bring into the world a child who would live a happy life. The impulse underlying such a decision—this purportedly common asymmetry of values—is what Benatar wants to press to its logical conclusion.Footnote 16
Why do we value the avoidance of pain above the experience of pleasure? Benatar seeks to explain this basic asymmetry of values by evoking the principle that “those who never exist cannot be deprived”Footnote 17—that is, they cannot subjectively feel a lack—of goods or pleasures they have missed by not partaking of existence.Footnote 18 Benatar takes this lack of felt deprivation to imply that the non-exister’s pleasureless state is “not bad,” even though this state is devoid of life’s goods.Footnote 19 Thus, however good life’s pleasures may be for those who experience them, “the pleasures of the existent … are not an advantage over non-existence, because the absence of pleasures is not bad.”Footnote 20 The couple considering bringing into the world a would-be suffering child, then, will do no harm to the potential child by denying it existence, since the child would never know the difference, whereas they would harm the child by bringing it into the world, given life’s inevitable pains. Benatar is claiming that the intuitive advantage we generally assume existence holds over non-existence by virtue of life’s blessings should not be regarded as an “advantage” to those (non-existers) who feel no lack or deprivation toward it. Yet this does not mean the playing field is even: non-existers, for their part, can benefit from their non-existent status by necessarily avoiding life’s would-be pains.Footnote 21 Given that life will always involve at least some pain, and non-existence will always retain its pain-free status, the net result is that it is always better not to exist.Footnote 22 Benatar’s import is almost incredible: humans should cease to procreate as soon as possible, thereby engendering the extinction of the species—a view known as “anti-natalism.”Footnote 23
Ecclesiastes 6:3 in the Context of 5:9–6:9: “A Stillborn is Better Off”
A. Ecclesiastes 6:1–6
In Eccl 6:3 Qoheleth audaciously states that a stillborn is “better off” [טוֹב מִמֶּנּוּ] than a man he has just described. This man comes as the second of two examples with virtually identical structure, which either refer to the same man, or are parallel enough that we may analyze them interchangeably and draw the same conclusions about both.Footnote 24
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In the first case, the man has been divinely bestowed with riches, wealth, honor—seemingly all he could ever want—yet he lacks the ability to enjoy (literally “consume” or “eat” [אכל]) these goods.Footnote 30 In the second case, the man is said to have fathered a hundred children and lived an extraordinarily long life—the very ancient Near Eastern model of “the good life”—but nevertheless the man’s נפֶשׁ, his desire or appetite, is not satisfied with such good things.Footnote 31 The crucial point is that in both cases the man is in possession of external, objective goods yet lacks a certain kind of internal, subjective response—namely, a positive, joyful one. Qoheleth’s conclusion that the “stillborn child is better off” most directly refers to the second example, but again, given the strict parallelism it can almost certainly be applied to both cases.Footnote 32
It is not difficult to see that the man constitutes a specific, contingent case. This fact alone distances Qoheleth’s claim from Benatar’s to some degree, since the stillborn is only said to be “better” than a man whose life meets these conditions. But, again, what is debated is whether this particular case nonetheless functions paradigmatically and definitively for Qoheleth. Inasmuch as this man’s experience is meant broadly to represent the human condition—as is the case with so many of Qoheleth’s vignettes—the sage would be claiming that non-existence is, if not always, at least generally preferable to human existence. There are scholars who think this is precisely the nature of Qoheleth’s claim. Tremper Longman, for instance, writes that for Qoheleth, “Even if one should attain wealth, its enjoyment is rare … Only in those few cases where God gives not only wealth but also the ability to enjoy is the person buffered from the harsh pain of real life.”Footnote 33 James Crenshaw likewise posits that “Qoheleth’s hatred of life was no momentary phase but persisted to the end, notwithstanding the seven texts that soften the pessimism for the lucky. For everyone else, God’s favor did not abound.”Footnote 34 William Anderson, as well, suggests that 6:2 undermines the joy statement at the end of chapter five, turning the possibility of joy into a sick joke.Footnote 35 However, there are several factors which, when taken together, challenge such an interpretation and urge us to regard the man’s case as important and constitutive within Qoheleth’s system of values, but nonetheless exceptional rather than universal. The argument will require some development.
B. Ecclesiastes 6:2–3 as Exceptional Rather Than Universal
To begin with, Qoheleth’s description of the man in 6:2 is closely connected to his earlier description of “the good life” in 5:17–19. In fact, 6:2 almost exactly recapitulates an eleven-word Hebrew phrase from 5:18:
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The issue, then, is this: the goods are at hand, but this man cannot partake [אכל] of them. Why not? Answering this question will help us understand why the man’s inability to enjoy renders his life inferior to the non-existent stillborn’s.Footnote 40 Most commentators here throw up their hands and offer something along the lines of Seow: “We do not know what kind of person Qohelet has in mind, or what circumstances may cause one not to enjoy material possessions. One can only guess whether the author is thinking of economic, physical,Footnote 41 or psychological handicaps.”Footnote 42 Other scholars lay heavy emphasis on Qoheleth’s reference to divine causality, that the man’s absent joy is a gift withheld by God: “[Qoheleth] directly and solely attributes this negative state of affairs to God.”Footnote 43 To be sure, God’s immanence in this text is unavoidable, yet does the appeal to divine causality exhaust all other explanations? In fact, Qoheleth elsewhere presents a concurrentist viewpoint, quickly appealing to divine causality as though it were the last word, only to offer a more “human” explanation for the same phenomenon within the turn of a few words (Eccl 7:13, 29).Footnote 44
So why can’t the man enjoy? I would like to suggest that the answer has been, so to speak, right under our noses all along. For Qoheleth states in 6:5 that the stillborn achieves “rest” rather than the man.Footnote 45 The man’s problem, then—his inability to enjoy “the good” [הַטּוֹבָה] and its resultant inferiority for his existence at large—apparently owes itself to some kind of unrest. But precisely what sort?
Our text is embedded within the larger unit of 5:9–6:9.Footnote 46 The primary theme of this unit is undoubtedly that of unfulfilled desire. Qoheleth begins the unit with the proverb, “The one who loves money will not be satisfied [לֹא־ִישְׂבַּע] with money” (5:9). And he concludes the unit in like fashion: “All of a person’s toil is for his mouth, yet his appetite is not satisfied [הַנֶּפֶשׁ לֹא תִמָּלֵא]” (6:7); and, “Better is the sight of the eyes [i.e. immediate enjoyment] than the wandering of desire [נֶפֶשׁהֲלָךְ־] [i.e. unrelenting, insatiable desire]” (6:9). Footnote 47 Between the inclusio containing three proverbs on each end (5:9–11; 6:7–9) lie three sub-units—5:12–16, 5:17–19, and 6:1–6.Footnote 48 The first tells of a man who had toiled to accrue and then guard his riches, hoping to pass them on to his son as an inheritance, yet they were lost in a bad investment (5:12–13). Despite his toil [עָמָל in 5:14, עמל in 5:15], the man will depart to the grave as naked as he came from the womb,Footnote 49 having never achieved lasting “gain” [יִתְרוֹן] (5:14–15). Moreover, we are told that the man spends his days in “darkness and much vexation [כַּעַס], sickness and anger” (5:16). In other words, we might say that the man’s compulsive teleological desire and his struggle to achieve it—his always wanting more, or his obsession to maintain what he has—is indeed a form of (what I will call) psychological unrest.Footnote 50 In fact, the language here is highly reminiscent of chapter two, where Qoheleth reflects on the morose state of the toiler [עָמָל and עמל in 2:22] who achieves no יִתְרוֹן: “All his days bring pain [מַכְאֹבִים], and his work brings vexation [כַּעַס]. Even in the night his mind cannot rest” (2:23).Footnote 51 This affiliation is further supported by 4:6, “Better is a handful of rest [נַחַת] than two hands full of toil [עָמָל] and striving after wind.” The connection is clear: the toiler’s compulsive teleological desire surfaces as psychological unrest—and unchecked psychological unrest incites the suffocation of joy.Footnote 52
It is crucial to emphasize that Qoheleth is not only claiming that those enslaved by delusional teleological desire and the toil undertaken to that end fail to satisfy those (long-term) desires. He is also claiming that their future-obsessed psychosis can sometimes produce an unshakeable mindset that backfires onto the present, incapacitating them from even enjoying the best of what life does offer—eating, drinking, enjoying one’s toil—impermanent benefits, but valuable nonetheless.Footnote 53 In such a state, with the mind restlessly fixated only on what is beyond the horizon, a person is utterly incapable of enjoying present goods—the sort proposed in 5:17–18 but denied the man in 6:2–3. This, I propose, accounts for the man’s inability to enjoy his good possessions in 6:2. And it is this backfiring effect of insatiable teleological desire which, according to Qoheleth, can render a life worse off than non-being.Footnote 54
But to return to our question: Who can enjoy such goods? Only a few? In light of our proposed rationale for the man’s inability to enjoy good in 6:2, we can see the way the unit’s structure—specifically the relation between the three sub-units 5:12–16, 5:17–19 and 6:1–6—argues for reading 6:1–6 as exceptional.
The distressed toiler of 5:12–16 may well represent a broad swath of humanity for Qoheleth, not in terms of the man’s precise circumstances as much as the story’s broader application: every human will eventually return to the grave “naked” and no one’s toil will result in permanent gain. It is all “toiling for the wind” (5:15). Given this theme’s prominence in the book, Qoheleth at least seems to think that in some form or another unfulfilled teleological desire is epidemic among humanity. That is precisely why Qoheleth’s next move (and one made throughout the book) is to provide a remedy for this all-too-common malady: to turn one’s eye from whatever telos is believed to fill the insatiable hunger of the נֶפֶשׁ, and instead turn to “see good” in the simple pleasures of the present (5:17–19). Qoheleth’s clarion calls to joy throughout the book carry exhortative force.Footnote 55 His assumption is therefore that in principle anyone can do this—again, the rhetoric of divine causality notwithstanding. Anyone can heed his words and turn from a slavery to teleological desire toward the free embracement of present goods, the only “portion” [חֵלֶק] God has provided.Footnote 56 Even in the face of life’s inevitable הֲבָלִים, anyone can choose a life which, at the very least, is worth living and is better than non-existence.Footnote 57 All that is required is a change in mindset.
In a few unique circumstances, however, the “demon is in too deep.” Herein lies the “sickening evil” (חֳלִי רָע) of 6:2–3. Some, such as the man portrayed in these verses, have become so entrenched within their teleological desire that they are incapable of curbing those desires for something more within reach. If the movement from 5:12–16 to 5:17–19 represents the shift between a description of the malady and a prescription for the remedy, we might say that the final move to 6:1–6 represents a description of those for whom this cure is sadly ineffective. Only with respect to these, the tragically incurable, is Qoheleth obliged to admit that the stillborn’s serene, painless state is “better”: while neither enjoys life’s goods, the stillborn at least finds (psychological) “rest.” The movement between these sections therefore exhibits a progressive narrowing within Qoheleth’s field of vision. In light of this, the man of 6:2–3 represents not the rule, but an exception.
Ecclesiastes 4:3 in the Context of 4:1–3: “Better is the One Who Has Not Yet Been”
In Ecclesiastes 4:2–3, Qoheleth follows a description of a community suffering oppression (4:1) with two statements praising the state of non-existent persons: “And I praised the dead who are already dead more than the living who are still alive. But better than both [וְטוֹב מִשְּׁנֵיהֶם] is he who has not yet been and has not seen the evil deeds that are perpetrated under the sun” (4:2–3). Some scholars have been hesitant to take Qoheleth seriously here. Barton suggests this was “not [Qoheleth’s] settled opinion. It was rather a transitory mood.”Footnote 58 On the other hand, pessimistically inclined interpretations of the book see verses like these as quintessential to the sage’s thought: “This preference for the nonexistent over the dead or the living suits the hatred for life that Qohelet expressed in 2:17,” writes James Crenshaw.Footnote 59 Likewise, W. Sibley Towner: “Nonexistence is preferable to existence, though the Teacher does not advocate suicide.”Footnote 60 It is true that these statements have more of a universal ring to them than the “stillborn” saying in 6:3. But, once again, there are good reasons to think Qoheleth has something more particular in mind.
First, the verb ראה, one of Qoheleth’s favorites, is used here with reference to “seeing the evil deeds that are perpetrated under the sun.” Taken in its literal sense, Qoheleth would be suggesting that merely witnessing evil or oppressive acts renders one inferior to the non-existent. In that case, presumably a large percentage of humanity would be negatively construed. But Qoheleth is quite apt to use ראה in another sense—that of immediate experience. Apart from his own first-person uses (e.g., “I have seen”), this is actually the sense that predominates throughout the book—utilized roughly twelve times.Footnote 61 Even in the text from chapter six discussed earlier, Qoheleth refers to enjoyment with the Hebrew phrase literally rendered, “see good” (טוֹבָה … רָאָה, 6:6).Footnote 62 In such cases ראה itself refers only to a value-neutral experience; it is the verb’s object—in this case the טוֹבָה—which justifies an idiomatic translation of “enjoy.” So too, here in 4:3, “seeing the evil deeds” [אֶת־הַמַּעֲשֶׂה הָרָע רָאָה] may legitimately be glossed as “suffering from oppression.” Applied to ראה in 4:3, Qoheleth would not be asserting that the non-existent are better off than all those who have witnessed oppression—again, this would presumably condemn most of humanity—but only better off than those who have not directly experienced such oppression as is described in v. 1.
But there is more to this negative experience than its external harms. In v. 1, Qoheleth not only grieves the oppression undergone at the hands of those who abuse power, but with a kind of mournful repetition he twice bemoans the additional fact that “there is none to comfort them.” As in chapter six, our sage is concerned not only with the objective situation in which humans find themselves, but their subjective response to it. It is precisely the subjective-appropriative side of things—the compensatory feeling of comfort—which the presence of comforters would engender for those undergoing oppression. Yet this is denied them. The implication is that an irredeemable evil plagues this community; they experience only harm and no good. As such, Qoheleth affirms that it would indeed be better for them not only to have died, but not to exist.
Second, and related to this last point, Qoheleth’s exact wording of the phrase in question is striking: “better than both is he who has not yet been [עֲדֶן לֹא עֲדֶן].”Footnote 63 The sage is considering the lot of a hypothetical, non-existent person, but he does not articulate this as, for instance, “one who never will be.” He describes the person as in a state of “not yet” existing (as well as not yet “seeing the evil deeds”), implying that this one may well come into existence at some future point.Footnote 64 If so, he is likely thinking of (not just any person but) one born into the oppressed community. Such a person is in a better state for as long as they remain non-existent; for upon entering the community’s woeful state, things will quickly become bleak.Footnote 65
It would appear, then, that, in contrast to David Benatar, neither of Qoheleth’s aforementioned “better” statements (6:3; 4:3) constitutes a definitive claim by the sage that non-existence would be universally better for all people, or even the vast majority of humans. Qoheleth does indeed think that some people’s lives—whether through an utter inability to experience the good things in life, or through a situation of irredeemable evil in which both objective and subjective goods are lacking—do indeed fail to produce value. But these are exceptions; they are not the norm.Footnote 66
Dialogue with David Benatar
Thus far, we have done little to justify this paper’s subtitle concerning a dialogue between David Benatar and Qoheleth. I have mainly used Benatar’s thesis as an opportunity for Qoheleth to respond (via my pen) to the challenge it poses and to clarify the rationale for Qoheleth’s view, which we have found to differ from Benatar’s thesis in its main conclusions. But I would like now to fill the lacuna by offering some semblance of dialogue.
First, what do the two philosophers have in common? Qoheleth shares Benatar’s intuition that there is something rather enviable about non-existent persons: they bask in an utterly peaceful, painless nothingness, finding the perfect “rest” to which so many of we existers ever fruitlessly aspire.Footnote 67 One step further, Qoheleth agrees that this blissful nothingness can, at times, outweigh the value of a life bereft of both long-term goal-satisfaction and short-term happiness. Remarkably, both Qoheleth and Benatar are at least sometimes comfortable predicating “betterness” to a hypothetical person in a non-existent state.
But, secondly, where do the two part ways? It has already become apparent that their conclusions ultimately differ: despite the pessimistic tones of Eccl 4:3 and 6:3, Qoheleth would not agree with David Benatar that coming into existence is always, or even generally, a harm. But what exactly is the line of reasoning at play that leads to these divergent conclusions? Essentially, it is a difference of epistemological method. Whereas Benatar’s “Asymmetry Argument” utilizes an a priori argument devoid of appeal to human experience, Qoheleth’s method is more empirical—that is, it involves investigating and giving credence to the benefits and harms experienced by particular humans.Footnote 68 Not until that empirical work has been done is Qoheleth willing to stake a claim that either existence or non-existence would be better in any given case. Universal judgments are thrown out of court entirely.Footnote 69
One correlating aspect of this methodological difference lies in the two thinkers’ respective assumptions about the possibility for a comparison between the goods of existence and the lack of such goods in non-existence: Benatar’s disallowal of such a comparison coheres with his a priori method, while Qoheleth’s openness to this comparison aligns with his empirical method. To unpack this distinction in greater detail, a brief review of Benatar’s thesis on this point may be helpful. Benatar’s proposal, we may recall, is that while the pains of existence do indeed compare unfavorably with the painlessness of non-existence, the pleasures of existence are (quite surprisingly) “not an advantage” over their absence in non-existence. Where we expect symmetry, Benatar pronounces asymmetry. By saying that the goods are “not an advantage,”Footnote 70 Benatar is implicitly claiming that the goods of existence cannot genuinely be compared with their corresponding absence in non-existence—thus, the two states are incommensurable.Footnote 71 Harms can be compared, he maintains, but benefits cannot be. And if so, then life’s goods can never be taken into account and the mere possibility that the goods will outweigh the harms in any individual’s experience is ruled out. If only pains, and not pleasures, are weighed on the scales of value, then the scales will weigh in favor of non-existence every time. But what is distinct about life’s goods, such that Benatar feels justified to rule them out? Once again, Benatar’s foundational premise for this argument is that non-existers cannot be deprived—that is, according to his particular use of the term, they cannot be said to feel a subjective lack that they are “missing out” on some good thing existers experience, since if they never come into existence they will have no reason to “miss” anything.Footnote 72 Would Qoheleth agree with this?
Qoheleth would in fact reject this premise, and as a result he would also deny Benatar’s claim of incommensurability. We know this because when he speaks of non-existers he not only mentions their relative benefits—e.g., their perfect “rest” in place of insatiable desire (6:5), or their auspicious fortitude from oppression (4:3). But he also acknowledges their deprivations—they never “see the sun” [לֹא־רָאָה שֶׁמֶשׁ], never “know anything” [לֹא יָדָע]; they traverse only “in darkness” rather than light (6:4–5).Footnote 73 All of these things are explicitly mentioned elsewhere in the book as objective values, even comparative advantages or benefits, for the living, and thus to go without them is to be objectively deprived. In 11:7, Qoheleth begins his final exhortation, “Light is pleasant, and it is good for the eyes to see the sun [טוֹב לַעֵינַיִם לִרְאוֹת אֶת־הַשָּׁמֶשׁ].” Likewise, in chapter nine Qoheleth surmises that “a living dog is better off than [טוֹב מִן] a dead lion” (9:4), because the living at least have knowledge and the experience of brute consciousness, unlike the shadowy non-existers of Sheol, who “know nothing” [אֵינָם יוֹדְעִים מְאוּמָה], for whom “there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom” (9:5–6, 10).Footnote 74 People are better off for experiencing these things, and worse off for lacking them.
For Qoheleth, then, it is false that “those who never exist cannot be deprived.” But this is not because Qoheleth thinks non-existent persons are somehow aware of life’s goods and yearning to experience them. Rather, it is because Qoheleth, unlike Benatar, regards a “deprivation” as an objective lack of some good, whether or not a felt sense of lack enters one’s subjective awareness. Since the objective possession of goods (in existence) and their lack (in non-existence) can be compared, Qoheleth can therefore posit a genuine value-comparison between existers and their non-existent counterparts with respect to both the relevant pains and—here in distinction from Benatar—pleasures. This by itself does not guarantee a worthwhile existence, but it does mean that existence and its goods may be weighed against non-existence on an unbiased, evenly balanced scale.
For the ancient sage, life’s mundane pleasures (seeing the sun, having knowledge) are examples of intrinsic goods, and a person would be (comparatively) harmed by not enjoying them.Footnote 75 Yet, as we have already seen, enjoy them they must—this part is not optional. In other words, what we have now seen is that Qoheleth’s philosophy of life’s value fully hinges on both the subjective enjoyment of the goods at hand as well as the objective, intrinsic worth attributed to those goods. The objective possession of goods (over against their utter lack in non-existence) meets a necessary condition or minimum requirement for positive value, but the subjective enjoyment of these goods meets the sufficient condition: both are required for the triumph of being over non-being.
This means that only in comparison to a life which is not enjoying these things anyway—a life for which these goods do not “count”—would non-existence be better.Footnote 76 What the stillborn and the man in 6:2–3 share in common is an inability to enjoy good; but the stillborn’s stated advantage is that it alone obtains “rest”—which is to say, it evades the pain of unfulfilled teleological desire and its attendant psychological unrest.
Conclusion
One way to systematize certain claims of this paper is to see that the ancient sage has an implicit value ranking of hypothetical life scenarios. Non-existence is not at the top, as it is for our contemporary, the philosopher David Benatar. Pride of place belongs to an existence marked by fulfilled teleological desire—a person toils, constantly longs for more, grasps for permanence—and lo, they achieve it. They obtain satisfaction of those desires. Qoheleth can apparently imagine such a world, and it serves as the standard against which he evaluates the world he knows by experience. But it is purely hypothetical, an unattainable mirage. Moving on from the hypothetical to the real, next best would be an existence that is indeed marked by הֶבֶל and frustration, as life “under the sun” inevitably is, but nonetheless affords its own enjoyable goods. There is real value to living in such a world, even if it is less than ideal. Enjoyment of the goods at hand is the life which Qoheleth himself seeks and commends to his readers. However, if that sort of existence cannot be obtained, the next best option—third in Qoheleth’s rankings—is that of non-existence. The painless serenity of non-existence would indeed out-benefit its next competitor, the life in which a positive reception of goods (or even a positive coping with evil, as in 4:3) is not possible.
We have seen, then, that despite initial appearances, Qoheleth does not regard coming into existence as a universal harm. To put it simply, it depends. Qoheleth is not a pessimistic nihilist, nor a naïve optimist, but actually a moderate, a realist.Footnote 77 Yet such cases as Qoheleth has described in 4:3 and 6:2–3 are best seen as exceptions to the norm, and they can easily be avoided if one heeds the sage’s exhortation to exchange the insatiable desire for what lies beyond in favor of a joyful contentment with what lies at hand.
Qoheleth’s Implicit Value Ranking of Scenarios
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