What Herodotus Teaches Us About Harvard

There was once a king who thought himself the happiest man in the world. His palace was rich with gold, and he ruled a mighty kingdom indeed.

One day, the wise man Solon came to the king’s palace in his wanderings. The king, knowing of Solon’s wisdom, and moreover seeking his praise, took him in as a guest.

From his gold-laden halls, the king asked: Who was the happiest man Solon had ever seen?

Solon did not flatter the king. Instead, he named Tellus the Athenian as happiest, for Tellus raised many good children and all of Athens honored him when he fell in battle. Again the king asked, and again Solon did not name the king. He named two brothers whose piety and filial duty were much admired, and whom the goddess rewarded with comely deaths.

The king, angered, asked Solon to explain himself. “Human life is pure chance,” Solon began. “You seem to be very wealthy, and you rule over many people, but I cannot yet tell you the answer you asked for until I learn how you have ended your life. For many wealthy people are unhappy, while many others who have more modest resources are fortunate.”

Solon warned the king to call no man happy before he dies. “One should rather call him lucky,” he said. Rather than heed Solon’s advice to always look to the end of things, the king sent him off in his wrath.

Fate proved Solon right. First, the king’s favored son was killed while hunting. Some years later, the oracle prophesied that if the king made war against Persia, he would destroy a great empire. So he did. The empire he destroyed was his own. Vanquished, condemned by his enemy to be burned alive, the king recalled Solon’s wisdom that no living man can truly be called happy. As his funeral pyre was lit, he cried out, “Solon!”

That is, more or less, how Herodotus records the mythical meeting between Solon and King Croesus. In our own ways, we’re all like Croesus — especially at Harvard.

Some of us are already rich as Croesus; others plan to acquire such fortune. Still others set their sights on power, be it political, social, or personal. Many value their own intelligence far more than gold. After all, you can’t get into Harvard unless you’re exceptional by some worldly measure, be it academic success, a unique talent, or your family name.

The result is a pervasive temptation towards a superficial outlook and the pursuit of contingent rewards. It’s natural for ambitious young adults to think this way. I’m certainly guilty of it. Yes, we’re all hard-working and smart students.

But we are also incredibly lucky — so far.

Life has many twists and turns, and none of us know what our futures hold, for better or worse. We would do well to heed Solon’s advice and spend less time worrying about what we could always lose. Instead, we should cultivate those virtues that can never be taken away.

These thoughts are hardly new. Many of us know these truths, yet hyper-focus on status and success anyway. You hear it every day: What are your plans next summer? What courses are you taking this spring? Where do you want to work after you graduate? Even when we look to the future, we only seek more potential success.

I get it: Harvard is stressful. Everybody around us is highly accomplished. We focus on the immediate to gain control and grapple with the weighty expectations of being a Harvard student.

But in so doing, we make the same mistake as Croesus. We should be wary of future misfortune before we declare victory. That means asking: How do you want to live your life, beyond what you have or achieve? You may be on top of the world now, but so was Croesus. Surely we wish to avoid his fate.

The most reliable way to do this is to focus on the aspects of yourself within your control. Aristotle conceives of happiness as a lifelong project requiring active practice — happiness comes through consistent rational action aligned with virtues that are intrinsically good. True, lasting happiness lies in the experiences and skills we accumulate over a well-rounded life, rather than in the fleeting pursuit of what we initially think we want.

If philosophy is not quite your speed, there’s good evidence to back up Aristotle’s millennia-old point. A psychological phenomenon called the hedonic treadmill says that “major” life events cause only a brief change in happiness, and we soon return to our baseline level. That is to say, a perfect GPA, landing a prestigious club, or pulling seven figures by the time you’re thirty gives, at best, a temporary boost to your happiness.

True happiness, as Solon sees it, comes from living a life built around family, community, and service. Embrace that not everything is in your control. Our only real job is to live a life that places happiness in the sum of a lifetime of well-lived days. Then, it doesn’t matter how the ending plays out.

Good luck.

Evan B. Tsingos ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a joint Physics and Mathematics concentrator in Adams House, who not-so-secretly wishes he also studied Classics.