The affliction of the intellectual is to find himself powerless against the natural course of thought of his time. Even if he decides to do something, it will be useless and frustrating. The qualities he needs to impose and influence are often opposite to those he cultivated to become himself. But it should not be regretted, because in the end the “thought of his time” only matters as raw material for his reflections. Fads fall as they arise, taking their ideologists and enthusiasts with them. One should not and cannot expect anything but a few isolated individuals who make intellectual life gratifying.