Although simplifications such as Manichaeism are criticized, the practical world allows, and sometimes requires such simplifications. When good faith and bad faith confront each other, it is fundamental, first of all, to denounce them. Thus, when one notices that most ideological disputes boil down to that primary confrontation, one must throw ideologies aside and stick to what is most important of all; otherwise, one enters the cunning game of bad faith.
Category: Notes
Virtue Is Simple and Vice Complex
Certainly it has already been noted that virtue is simple and vice complex. Virtue does not disguise itself, and almost always presents itself as banal, boring, dull, which often misleads about its nature. Vice, on the other hand, is difficult for us to see right away as vice: compared to virtue, it has a more charming, more instigating presentation. Virtue is simple because, to justify it, one never needs more than a handful of words or immediate common sense; vice, on the other hand, makes use of more sophisticated possibilities of argument, and its dialectic convinces precisely because of its sophistication. Reflection on such qualities seems to suggest a dualism between form and content—and the conclusions we draw show, unwillingly, which one we value more.
It Is Beneficial for the Moralist…
To a certain extent, it is beneficial for the moralist to be able to identify falsehood from afar, so that an inflection or a glance is enough to reveal a character. Pragmatically, this ability will be of use to him throughout his life. There is, however, an inevitable side-effect: realizing its near omnipresence, he must either tolerate it or turn away. If he has learned to detest it, if he has taken an invincible repulsion to it, he will fall into that rare practice which is now called a personality disorder, and even if, for whatever reason, he ends up giving in to the torture which his contact with the world will become, it is only in that that he will find his peace.
What Writing Provides
What writing provides cannot be achieved through life: no action of any kind can match or replace it. First, the ordering and expression of thought—the step forward from reading; the consolidation of learning and reasoning. Then, the reflective nature of the process: even if it were possible to give a speech for as long as one writes and about what one writes, speech is radically different from writing because it does not allow, or rather does not require, revision, which boils down to an in-depth reflection on what one has tried to express and a decision as to its most precise expression. For individuals, writing encourages self-analysis, combining it with an action that materializes in the record of thought. Thus, for those who write, it can function simultaneously as venting and meditation. None of this, however, expresses the main effects of the process, which could be summarized as follows: growth and transformation.