¹ Camus, Albert, The Myth of Sisyphus, and Other Essays (trans. O’Brien, Justin; New York: Vintage, 1955) 3Google Scholar.

² Benatar, David, Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006) 1CrossRefGoogle Scholar. The term “harm” in this context refers to an overall “net harm” as opposed to a “net benefit” (1) as a value judgment concerning one’s existence as a whole, in comparison to non-existence. See also Feinberg, Joel, “Wrongful Life and the Counterfactual Element in Harming,” Social Philosophy & Policy 4 (1986) 145–78CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed; Perry, Stephen, “Harm, History, & Counterfactuals,” San Diego Law Review 40 (November 2003) 1283–313Google Scholar.

³ “It is best of all for mortals not to be born and not to look upon the rays of the piercing sun, but once born it is best to pass the gates of Hades as quickly as possible and to lie under a large heap of earth” (Theognis, 425–428 [Gerber, LCL]). “Not to be born is, beyond all estimation, best; but when a man has seen the light of day, this is next best by far, that with utmost speed he should go back from where he came” (Sophocles, Oed. Col. 1224–1226 [https://chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/5299]). “Not to be born is the same, I say, as to die, and to die is better than to live in pain” (Euripides, Tro. 636–639 [Kovacks, LCL]).

⁴ Schopenhauer, Arthur, The World as Will and Representation (trans. Payne, E. F. J.; 2 vols.; New York: Dover, 1958) vol. 2Google Scholar; idem, Essays and Aphorisms (trans. Hollingdale, R. J.; London: Penguin, 2004)Google Scholar.

⁵ In The Birth of Tragedy, Nietzsche recounts a legend derived from Aristotle’s mostly lost Eudemos in which King Midas asks one Silenus “what is the best and most excellent thing for human beings.” Silenus replies that “the very best thing is utterly beyond your reach: not to have been born, not to be, to be nothing” (Nietzsche, Friedrich, The Birth of Tragedy and Other Writings [trans. Speirs, Ronald; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999] 22–23Google Scholar [italics in original]). Nietzsche cites this as part of his argument that “the Greeks knew the terrors and horrors of existence, but they covered them with a veil in order to be able to live” (124). This point of view, however, does not seem to have played a large part in Aristotle’s philosophy.

⁶ For example, Zimmermann’s psychoanalytic construal of the sage remains one of the most pessimistic: “He is a pathological doubter of everything, stemming from a drastic emotional experience, a psychic disturbance. He is doubtful about himself as a person of worth and character. He has no self-esteem or value of himself. His doubt has destroyed all values. He is an inferior, of no account, and he demeans himself constantly. His doubt comes from a parapathy, a disease of the mind which he shares with many neurotics” (Zimmermann, Frank, The Inner World of Qohelet [New York: Ktav, 1973] 8Google Scholar). With a more philosophical orientation, Seizo Sekine designates the sage as “Qoheleth the Nihilist”; see Sekine, Seizo, Philosophical Interpretations of the Old Testament (BZAW 458; Berlin: De Gruyter, 2014) 123CrossRefGoogle Scholar, and idem, “Qohelet als Nihilist,” Annual of the Japanese Biblical Institute 17 (1991) 3–54Google Scholar.

⁷ Statements to the effect that one is better off not to have been born may be found elsewhere in the ancient Jewish world, see Job 3:3–26; 10:18–19; Jer 20:14–18; 2 Esd 4:12; 5:35; 7:63, 116; 1 En. 38:2; 2 En. 41:2; Matt 26:24 (=Mark 14:21); b. ʿErub. 13b. Other ancient Near Eastern texts concern the question of life’s value (usually on account of suffering) yet without framing it in explicitly anti-natalist terms, e.g., the Egyptian text Dialogue between a Man and his Ba; the Mesopotamian A Pessimistic Dialogue Between Master and Servant, Babylonian Theodicy, and Ludlul bēl nēmeqi; and the Sumerian Man and His God.

⁸ I have chosen Benatar as a discussion partner with Qoheleth for a number of reasons. First, Benatar’s brand of pessimism is stated not in terms of a simple disparaging of life’s goodness or even a suicidal preference for death over life, but specifically in anti-natalist terms—never coming into existence in the first place is better than being born. This allows for a tight (but, as we will see, imperfect) parallel with Qoheleth’s sentences in Eccl 4:3 and 6:3—and the parallel is strengthened by Qoheleth’s penchant for specific “better-than” comparisons, exemplified in these two sentences. Second, Benatar is the first philosopher to use the rigorous logical methodology of analytic philosophy to make a case for anti-natalism—particularly in the “Asymmetry Argument” which I describe in this essay. This makes it harder to dismiss (than, say, E. M. Cioran’s aphoristic pessimism in the mid-20th century), and it demands attention from serious philosophical thinkers to grapple with his claims. Third, presumably for the reason just given, Benatar has emerged as the most prominent philosophical pessimist writing today. His 2006 monograph has been the subject of numerous reviews and review essays, including an entire issue of the South African Journal of Philosophy devoted to it in 2012. I have chosen to compare these two particular thinkers rather than two broader traditions—e.g., that of ancient Near Eastern pessimism and that of Western philosophical nihilism—because this essay aims to uncover depth and texture at the cost of breadth and coverage.

⁹ As advocated by Gericke (The Hebrew Bible and Philosophy of Religion [RBS 70; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012] 199–222CrossRefGoogle Scholar), “philosophical criticism is understood as a descriptive type of philosophical analysis aimed at the clarification of meaning in the biblical texts” (201). Just as recent decades have witnessed the emergence of various biblical criticisms in which some strand of modern discourse is employed in order to illuminate an aspect of the ancient text (e.g., narrative criticism, performance criticism), so the same basic premise applies to “philosophical criticism.” It is interested in “discovering what, if anything, a given passage assumes or implies on [philosophical] matters and in translating the findings of the analyses into philosophical terms,” such that the ancient writer’s implicit philosophy can be “identified, reconstructed, and elucidated” (201). The “translation” thus involved, from ancient thought categories to modern philosophical ones, must beware the danger of anachronism. On the other hand, as Gericke observes, “bracketing philosophical concerns actually makes one more (not less) prone to anachronistic philosophical eisegesis” (97).

Gericke’s project, thus defined, differs from that of Yoram Hazony (The Philosophy of Hebrew Scripture [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012]). Hazony seeks to identify the biblical books as “works of philosophy” themselves, but Gericke only aims to read philosophically relevant portions of the text through the (ideally) clarifying lens of philosophical discourse.

¹⁰ See, e.g., Fox, Michael, “Qohelet’s Epistemology,” HUCA 58 (1987) 137–55Google Scholar; O’Dowd, Ryan P., “Epistemology in Ecclesiastes: Remembering What it Means to Be Human,” in The Words of the Wise are Like Goads: Engaging Qohelet in the 21st Century (ed. Boda, Mark J. et al.; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2013) 195–217Google Scholar.

¹¹ Benatar, Better, 1.

¹² “Intuitive” in a way I hope to explain—though I acknowledge that casting the issue in terms of a distinction between “pleasures” and “pains” already frames the discussion within a rather utilitarian structure. I have done so simply because this is Benatar’s starting point, but one burden of the paper is to test whether this sort of framework serves to illuminate Qoheleth’s thought.

¹³ At least, this is not his primary argument. He does, in fact, posit a separate argument appealing to human experience in his book’s third chapter (Benatar, Better, 60–93), but he maintains that the argument described herein can independently justify his thesis (see Better, 18–59, for the full argument). In addition to considerations of space, I have chosen to focus on Benatar’s Asymmetry Argument because its method of comparing the harms and benefits of existence with those of non-existence runs so congruently with Qoheleth’s approach.

¹⁴ See Russell, Bruce, “A Priori Justification and Knowledge,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (ed. Zalta, Edward N.; Summer 2014)Google Scholar https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2014/entries/apriori/.

¹⁵ Benatar, David and Wasserman, David, Debating Procreation: Is It Wrong to Reproduce? (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015) 19–39CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

¹⁶ The reference to the values that “we” typically “feel” (in his view) does not undermine the point that Benatar’s argument is an a priori one, since he is only drawing on these purportedly common asymmetrical value judgments as a pointer to an underlying fact about the world which he then justifies on a priori grounds and not because of any generally assigned asymmetrical values or any experiences of pain or pleasure in the world.

¹⁷ Benatar, Better, 1 [italics added].

¹⁸ This paper will assume that it is meaningful and not senseless to speak of hypothetical or potential non-existent persons. Who are they? Essentially, they are those who could (or could have) come into existence if certain conditions were met, such as a particular pair of humans procreating at a certain time (see Warren, Mary Anne, “Do Potential People Have Moral Rights?” Canadian Journal of Philosophy 7 [1977] 275–89)CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed. But a possible person might or might not be actualized; Benatar clarifies that he is “using ‘non-existence’ to denote those who never exist” (Better, 30 n. 22 [italics added]). The sense in which we may compare the state of such hypothetical people as better or worse than their corresponding hypothetically existent counterparts is only the sense in which we regularly compare possible situations to actual ones and inquire which is better.

¹⁹ This essential aspect of Benatar’s argument was predated nearly two millennia by Lucretius: “How could it have harmed us never to have been created? Are we to believe that our life lay groveling in murk and misery until the first day of creation dawned for us? All people, once born, must certainly wish to remain in life, so long as seductive pleasure detains them; but if one has never tasted the love of life or been numbered among the living, how does it harm one not to have been created?” (Lucr. 5.173–181).

²⁰ Benatar, Better, 41 [italics added]. He adds, “For the good to be an advantage over non-existence, it would have to have been the case that its absence were bad” (ibid.). If we were to make explicit Benatar’s implied premise we might syllogize as follows:

1. Premise A:

   Premise A: If X is not bad, then nothing can be an advantage with respect to X.

2. Premise B:

   Premise B: The absence of pleasures (in non-existence) is not bad.

3. Conclusion C:

   Conclusion C: The pleasures of the existent are not an advantage over (the absence of pleasures in) non-existence.

Once rendered in this way, Premise A strikes one as patently contestable, yet Benatar nowhere argues for it.

²¹ “There is a crucial difference between harms (such as pains) and benefits (such as pleasures) which entails that existence has no advantage over, but does have disadvantages relative to, non-existence” (Benatar, Better, 30).

²² For the full argument see Benatar, Better, chapter 2, 18–59.

²³ I should note that this is virtually an a priori argument, but not entirely one. All that Benatar needs to assume regarding the amount of pleasure and pain a hypothetical person will experience is the smallest imaginable amount of pain—such as, say, a single stubbed toe in an otherwise pain-free, pleasure-filled life. As long as such a miniscule amount of pain may be assumed for all human lives, that is, as long as the amount is greater than “zero,” his entire argument takes effect. This slightest bad outweighs any amount of good because the goods do not count. Hence Benatar’s a priori argumentation has furnished him with the absolute predictive power needed for such a claim as that “coming into existence is always a serious harm.”

²⁴ Murphy, Roland E., Ecclesiastes (WBC 23A; Dallas: Word, 1992) 53Google Scholar, suggests that vv. 3–6 “can be considered an extension or an intensification of vv. 1–2 in that the failure to enjoy one’s possessions and to fulfill one’s desires remains the problem.”

²⁵ The following represents my translation of 6:1–5, but formatted to highlight the structure. (Words in brackets are not part of the translation proper but help to exhibit the structure.)

²⁶ I take this clause as parenthetical, with גַם translated “even.” A lack of burial would be salt on the wound for a joyless life, but it is not central to Qoheleth’s concerns here.

²⁷ Apart from 6:3, נֵפֶל occurs only twice in the Hebrew Bible: “Let them be like … a stillborn child [נֵפֶל] that never sees the sun” (Ps 58:8); “Or why I was not hidden like a stillborn [נֵפֶל], like infants who have never seen the light?” (Job 3:16). Strikingly, all three instances identify the stillborn as one who “never sees the sun” or light, apparently reflecting an ancient Jewish circumlocution for consciousness as such.

²⁸ The Hebrew posits no object for לֹא יָדָע. This is unusual but not without precedent. C. L. Seow, Ecclesiastes (AB 18C; New York: Doubleday, 1997) 213, cites intransitive use of ידע in Isa 44:9, 18; 45:20. In all three cases the verb is negated, and in the former two texts the idols’ lack of knowing is paralleled by a lack of seeing [ראה]. The import is that idols possess no cognitive faculty as such, and Qoheleth uses similar language to render the same point concerning the stillborn.

Some of the ancient versions alternatively read נַחַת as the object of יָדָע (“it does not know rest”), but the sentence’s remaining syntax is then “exceedingly awkward” (Seow, 213). Moreover, the affinity of our text with Job 3:11–26 runs deep, and Job’s repeated claim in the passage is that had he died as a “stillborn” [נֵפֶל] he would have been at rest [נוח, 3:13, 17, 26]. Job and Qoheleth agree that all that the stillborn does know is “rest.”

²⁹ The string of descriptives by which Qoheleth characterizes the stillborn in 6:4–5 should be regarded as concessive with respect to the final clause (“Although … yet … ” as in the translation provided above). So JPS; Gordis, Robert, Koheleth, the Man and His World: A Study of Ecclesiastes (New York: Schocken, 1968) 170Google Scholar; Scott, R. B. Y., Proverbs, Ecclesiastes (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965) 231Google Scholar; Murphy, Ecclesiastes, 45. Others begin the concessive at v. 5: NIV; NKJV; ISV; Crenshaw, James L., Ecclesiastes: A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987) 120Google Scholar; Seow, Ecclesiastes, 202; Bundvad, Mette, Time in the Book of Ecclesiastes (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015) 124CrossRefGoogle Scholar. The concessive sense is not derived from any explicit Hebrew terms. Rather it is inferred by Qoheleth’s implicit logic in the relationship between the value-states predicated of the stillborn. Verse 3 claims that the stillborn is better off than the man, and the כִּי (“for”) at the beginning of v. 4 promises to provide justification for the claim. Yet none of the verbal clauses in v. 4 or the first half of v. 5 suffice, since none represents a positive value. Only the concluding statement in v. 5b that there is “rest for this one rather than that one” (lit. Hebr.; see also 3:19, זֶה … זֶה) fulfills the justificatory role of the כִיּ with respect to v. 3b, and this relation is all the more confirmed by the comparative מִן in the two relevant phrases [נַחַת לָזֶה מִזֶּה … טוֹב מִמֶּנּוּ הַנָּפֶל]. This linkage, in tandem with the negative value accorded to the stillborn’s non-activities in vv. 4–5a, logically implies that the intervening clauses in vv. 4–5a (before the line about rest in v. 5b) function as a setup for the conclusion, conceding plenty about the stillborn’s state as undesirable, but maintaining at least one decisive point over against the tragic man of 6:3. The stillborn is better off than the man, because—despite its own obvious deficiencies—it has more rest than the man. So Rose, Martin, Rien de nouveau: Nouvelles approches du livre de Qoheleth (Fribourg: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999)Google Scholar: “Le premier terme positif est נחַת («repos», v. 5b). C’est lui qui doit expliquer pourquoi donner la préférence à l’état d’un fœtus inapte à vivre (v. 3b).” Moreover, the structure of Qoheleth’s sentence about the stillborn (6:4–5) approximately parallels his sentence about the man (6:3). In the case of the man, a long list of positive traits is provided, only to undermine their value with a single phrase at the sentence’s conclusion (“a stillborn is better off”). In the case of the stillborn, a long list of negative traits is given, only to subvert their disvalue at the sentence’s surprising positive conclusion (“it finds rest rather than he”).

³⁰ Salters, Robert (“Notes on the Interpretation of Qoh 6:2,” ZAW 91 [1979] 282–89)Google Scholar assumes that אכל must be taken literally. But this is an uncommon view. Most scholars think it can sometimes mean to “consume” in a broader sense, to “enjoy.” See, e.g., Barton, George A., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Ecclesiastes (New York: Scribner, 1908) 129Google Scholar; Alter, Robert, The Wisdom Books: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (New York: Norton, 2010) 366Google Scholar: “The usage is an anticipation of a common idiom in rabbinic Hebrew, in which the verb ‘eat’ (’akhal) means to enjoy the fruits of something.”

³¹ For clarity’s sake, I have omitted v. 6 from the translation above, but it too reiterates the requisite of subjective enjoyment: “Even if he should live a thousand years twice over yet not enjoy good [וְטוֹבָה לֹא רָאָה]—do not all go to the same place?”

³² The statement in 6:2 that “he lacks nothing which his נֶפֶשׁ desires” can only mean that the man has possession of all the objective goods which he would desire on the presumption that they will bring him subjective satisfaction; given what follows Qoheleth clearly cannot mean by this that the man has no subjective lack.

³³ Tremper Longman III, The Book of Ecclesiastes (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997) 175 [italics added]. In accordance with his interpretation, Longman takes וְרַבָּה הִיא עַל־הָאָדָם in 6:1 as referring to the frequency of this רָעָה — “and it is frequent among humans” (163, 169). But the grammatical construction makes that unlikely, and the vast majority of commentators and translations construe it with reference to existential significance—“and it lies heavily upon humankind.” See also 8:6, רָעַת הָאָדָם רַבָּה עָלָיו, “the evil of humankind lies heavy upon him.”

³⁴ Crenshaw, James L., “Qoheleth’s Hatred of Life: A Passing Phase or an Enduring Sentiment?” in Wisdom for Life (BZAW 415; ed. Calduch-Benages, Nuria; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014) 119–31Google Scholar, at 128 [italics added]. Elsewhere Crenshaw opines that for Qoheleth “suicide offers a compelling alternative to further living. Its lure would seem irresistible for one who hates life and falls into despair’s vice-like grip.” Idem, “The Shadow of Death in Qoheleth,” in Israelite Wisdom (ed. Gammie, J. G.; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1978) 208Google Scholar.

³⁵ Anderson, William H. U., Scepticism and Ironic Correlations in the Joy Statements of Qoheleth? (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2010) 54Google Scholar.

³⁶ Seow, Ecclesiastes, 225. See also 3:13, in which כָּל־הָאָדָם is again used for those who may “eat and drink and see good in their toil.” In this case too, their ability to do so is grounded in “the gift of God,” yet the emphasis is by no means exclusive, but inclusive and invitational.

³⁷ See, e.g., Kugel, James, “Qohelet and Money,” CBQ 51 (1989) 32–49Google Scholar; Fox, Michael V., A Time to Tear Down and a Time to Build Up: A Rereading of Ecclesiastes (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999) 130Google Scholar; Brown, William P., Ecclesiastes (Louisville, KY: John Knox, 2000) 64–65Google Scholar; Gordis, Koheleth, 257; Ludger Schwienhorst-Schönberger, Kohelet (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 2004) 352Google Scholar.

³⁸ Weeks, Stuart, Ecclesiastes and Scepticism (LHBOTS 541; New York: T&T Clark, 2012) 80 n. 3Google Scholar; Ogden, Graham S., Qoheleth (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987) 91Google Scholar; Crenshaw, Ecclesiastes, 126.

³⁹ It is understandable that some commentators would connect the man’s lack of enjoyment here with the possibility that God has dispossessed him of his property because in 2:18–23 the “despair” (and implicit lack of enjoyment) is due to the dispossession of wealth that is both inherited and thereby “enjoyed” by one “who did not toil for it” (v. 21). A further connection (between 6:2 and ch. 2) is proposed by those (such as Fox, Rereading, 129) who relate 2:26 to 2:18–23, since it could suggest the additional idea that the toiler’s loss and the would-be fool’s gain in 2:18–23 was in reality a divine prerogative. In light of the divine-causality rhetoric in 6:2, might not the same idea apply here and thus the man’s inability to enjoy be provoked by a (divinely instigated) dispossession of property? But against this, the already discussed parallel between 5:18 and 6:2 strongly implies that in 6:1–6 Qoheleth is concerned to clarify a point he fears remains yet opaque—the absolute necessity of subjective enjoyment—and the point is best made via an example of a man who maintains possession of his wealth. In this way the lack of objective goods cannot be the source of blame. The joy Qoheleth commends in 5:17–19 could be misconstrued by his audience as a merely natural consequence of possessing “wealth and possessions” and similar external goods. But the emphasis in 6:2—that the external, objective goods could be had without an internal, subjective appreciation for them—rules out any necessary correlation between the two aspects. Qoheleth could not have made that particular point if the dispossession of wealth were in view, for then the lack of enjoyment would be imputed to the external void.

⁴⁰ On the assumption already stated, that 6:2 and 6:3 either refer to the same man or are parallel enough to treat together, such that the stillborn “better” saying applies equally to the man of 6:2.

⁴¹ Galling, Kurt, “Der Prediger,” in Die fünf Megilloth (HAT 18; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1969) 73–125Google Scholar, at 103, posits that “Krankheit verhindert das Genießen.”

⁴² Seow, Ecclesiastes, 225; see also Crenshaw, Ecclesiastes, 126; Murphy, Ecclesiastes, 53. For these scholars what is at least ruled out as the cause is dispossession. The handicap is something that coincides with the man’s maintaining his goods, though its precise nature remains unclear.

⁴³ Longman, Ecclesiastes, 170; see also Schoors, Antoon, Ecclesiastes (Leuven: Peeters, 2013) 462Google Scholar. Stuart Weeks also emphasizes God’s role in dispensing or withholding the ability to enjoy goods, but he minimizes the apparent arbitrariness of the act by tying it to divine judgment: “it is something offered in return for righteousness, or at least for pleasing God, while the withholding of the ability would constitute an effective punishment” (Ecclesiastes, 84).

⁴⁴ See, e.g., Psalm 7, which initially warns of seemingly unmediated divine punishment, “If a person does not repent, God will sharpen his sword” (v. 12), but quickly thereafter clarifies the more mundane means: “[a person] digs a pit and then falls into the hole he has made” (v. 15). See Amit, Yairah, “The Dual Causality Principle and Its Effects on Biblical Literature,” VT 37 (1987) 385–400Google Scholar.

⁴⁵ The majority of commentators construe the phrase נַחַת לָזֶה מִזֶּה in a contrastive sense (“rather than”), although there are some who take the phrase in a comparative sense (“more than”).

⁴⁶ For simplicity’s sake in this paper I will only refer to the Hebrew versification, which in all of Eccl 5 reflects a verse number one less than that of English translations. E.g., HB 5:9 = ET 5:10.

⁴⁷ The phrase הֲלָךְ־נֶפֶשׁ has sometimes been taken as a reference to death, as in “the passing of life” (Seow, Ecclesiastes, 228). This is unlikely for a number of reasons. First, נֶפֶשׁ only refers to “desire” or “appetite” in Qoheleth, not “life.” Second, translated as “the wandering of desire” the verse could not be better suited to its context, bringing the unit of 5:9–6:9 to a fitting conclusion. The two halves of the verse correlate perfectly with the two sections, 5:12–16 (the constant, lustful roaming of desire) and 5:17–19 (the ability to “see” as “good” that which is present).

⁴⁸ A few highly chiastic structures have been proposed for 5:9–6:9 (see Fredericks, Daniel C., “Chiasm and Parallel Structure in Qoheleth 5:9–6:9,” JBL 108 [1989] 17–35Google Scholar; Seow, Ecclesiastes, 216–18). It is reasonable to see some resonance within the sections (e.g., the parallel between the “birth” language of 5:14 and 6:3), but the level of chiastic parallel assumed by these scholars is unpersuasive. My take on the structure of this section is only broadly chiastic, with a proverbial framing and the middle three sub-units reflecting a chiasm in basic theme (“evil” versus “good”) while still maintaining progressive movement in the content of the argument (see below).

1. A -

   A - 3 Proverbs on Insatiable Desire (5:9–11)

   1. B -

      B - “There is an Evil [יֵשׁ רָעָה]” (5:12–16)

      1. C -

         C - “What is Good [טוֹב]” (5:17–19)

   2. B’ -

      B’ - “There is an Evil [יֵשׁ רָעָה]” (6:1–6)

2. A’ -

   A’ - 3 Proverbs on Insatiable Desire (6:7–9)

⁴⁹ The phrase “Just as he came from his mother’s womb, naked he will return, just as he came” [כַּאֲשֶׁר יָצָא מִבֶּטֶן אִמּוֹ עָרוֹם יָשׁוּב לָלֶכֶת כְּשֶׁבָּא] in 5:14 is likely gleaned from Job 1:21a: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will return there” [עָרֹם יָצָתִי מִבֶּטֶן אִמִּי וְעָרֹם אָשׁוּב שָׁמָה].

⁵⁰ The man’s psychological problems are not meant merely as a result of his misfortune, but as concomitant with it. The same is true with 2:23 in relation to 2:18–22. See also 1:18, where “vexation” [כַּעַס] and “pain” [מַכְאוֹב] occur together, just as in 2:23.

⁵¹ This interpretation particularly illuminates certain other passages in Qoheleth:

a) 11:9–10: Qoheleth’s exhortation at the end of chapter 11 is to “walk in … the sight of your eyes,” i.e. immediate enjoyment (11:9; compare 6:9), and to “remove vexation [כַּעַס] from your mind” (11:10). He is again commending the embracement of present joys as a way out of the psychological unrest (“vexation”) that plagues those enslaved by toil and teleological desire.

b) 5:11: “The sleep of the laborer is sweet, whether he eats little or much, but the abundance [הַשָּׂבָע] of the rich will not allow him to sleep [מַנִּיחַ לוֹ לִישׁוֹן].” Murphy, Ecclesiastes, 52, comments: “It is as if the riches that the eyes contemplated so avidly now keep them from being closed in sleep.”

⁵² Schopenhauer similarly conceives of existence as “essentially unceasing motion, without any possibility of that repose which we continually strive after … Existence is typified by unrest” (Schopenhauer, Essays and Aphorisms, 52 [italics omitted]). See also Euripides, Hipp. 189–190 [Kovaks, LCL]: “But the life of mortals is wholly trouble, and there is no rest from toil.”

⁵³ For instance, the toiler in 5:16 is not even able to enjoy “eating,” though the next verse designates the same activity as “good.” The toiler in 4:8 represents another instance of this principle in the book. His toil is driven by an insatiable desire (“There is no end to all his toil, and his eyes are not satisfied with riches”), and his self-critical question reflects the presupposition that the toiler’s future-oriented desire prevents him from present enjoyment: “For whom am I toiling and [thereby] depriving my נֶפֶשׁ of good [מְחַסֵּר אֶת־נַפְשִׁי מִטּוֹבָה]?”

⁵⁴ It should be noted that Qoheleth’s critique of teleological striving throughout the book seems to indicate a reversal from a viewpoint he formerly held. Much like Tolstoy’s famous recounting of his mid-life existential crisis (Leo Tolstoy, Confession [trans. David Patterson; New York: Norton, 1983]), Qoheleth often writes as though he has experienced an epiphany (employing the language of, “I saw,” “I realized,” etc.) which has overturned previous expectations and beliefs. This implies that Qoheleth writes as a recovering teleologist. He still believes that teleological striving would be the best way to live if the objects of one’s teleological desires were real and attainable. But since he no longer believes humans can grasp such objects, he wants to prevent the harm caused by needlessly chasing illusions. If the teloi are forever out of reach, then there is “nothing better” than taking hold of graspable present-tense goods.

⁵⁵ Qoheleth’s joy commendations begin with his definitive statements of what “is good” for a person to do (2:24; 3:12–13, 22; 5:17–18) but are eventually expressed as explicit injunctions to the reader in the imperative mood (7:14; 8:15; 9:7–10; 11:8–10).

⁵⁶ Commensurate with this interpretation is that among the book’s many joy-exhortations only in 5:18 are “wealth,” “riches,” or “possessions” identified as the objects of joy; elsewhere the objects in view are almost exclusively the more democratized objects of one’s eating, drinking, and labor. Even in 5:18 the accoutrements of the wealthy are distinguished from the previous verse by the גַּם (“also”), perhaps implying that this exhortation belongs to a slightly different category, one more difficult to accomplish—hence 6:2. Qoheleth’s point is that the basic enjoyment of life through mundane means is something anyone—rich or poor—can do, and the poor may even be more equipped for the task since they are not weighed down by the “vexations” of the rich (5:9–11).

⁵⁷ For Qoheleth, life’s present worthwhileness is grounded not in the sort of “meaning” which an attainable and irrevocable יִתְרוֹן (“gain,” “profit”) would have produced (if that were possible). It stems from a more basic kind of value: the subjective enjoyment of objective goods—even if both are transient.

⁵⁸ Barton, Ecclesiastes, 114.

⁵⁹ Crenshaw, Ecclesiastes, 107.

⁶⁰ Towner, W. Sibley, “The Book of Ecclesiastes,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible (ed. Keck, Leander E.; 12 vols.; Nashville: Abingdon, 1998) 5:267–360Google Scholar, at 311.

⁶¹ Eccl 1:16; 2:1, 3(?), 16; 3:13; 4:3; 5:18; 6:6, 9; 7:11(?); 9:9; 11:9.

⁶² The “see good” idiom is employed in Eccl 2:1, 3, 24; 3:13; 5:17; 6:6 (see also 9:9, “see life,” typically translated “enjoy”).

⁶³ Gordis, Koheleth, 239, notes that “the common Mishnaic עדיין, ‘yet’, suggests rather that our spelling here is the old orthography for the ai diphthong in which the Yod was unexpressed.”

⁶⁴ Longman, Ecclesiastes, 135.

⁶⁵ This interpretation is further supported by the parallel with 2 Bar. 10:6–7, 14–16 [Klijn, OTP]: “Blessed is he who was not born, or he who was born and died. But we, the living, woe to us, because we have seen those afflictions of Zion … And those who have no children will be glad, and those who have children will be sad. For why do they bear in pains only to bury in grief? Or why should men have children again … where this mother is lonely, and her children have been carried away in captivity?” The writer’s pessimistic stance holds true with respect to the oppressed community, not all humanity in general.

⁶⁶ Seow, Ecclesiastes, 225, regards the balance similarly: “As a general rule, God has permitted humans to enjoy what they have, given them material possessions, and authorized them to partake of what they have as their portion. This is the manifestation of God’s gift to humanity. Yet there are instances when that gift is not evident, when the same God who gives material possessions may not give certain individuals the ability to enjoy them.”

⁶⁷ Clearly, I am “personifying” the non-existent somewhat to make the point.

⁶⁸ The most influential work on Qoheleth’s epistemology remains Michael Fox, “Qohelet’s Epistemology,” which demonstrates that the sage exhibits “an essentially empirical methodology” (137).

⁶⁹ Qoheleth’s method is therefore similar to the “intuitive” method we considered in the opening paragraph of this essay. But the difference is that Qoheleth is not considering human existence as a conglomerate and then declaring “better” or “worse” over it in toto; instead the value judgment is only assigned to particular people or groups of people, given their particular circumstances.

⁷⁰ Benatar, Better, 41: “The pleasures of the existent, although good, are not an advantage over non-existence, because the absence of pleasures is not bad. For the good to be an advantage over non-existence, it would have to have been the case that its absence were bad.”

⁷¹ Benatar does not explicitly claim incommensurability, but it is a logical implication of his notion that if the absence of X is “not bad,” then the presence of X is not an “advantage” or better (see previous note). We might add parenthetically that if Benatar’s conclusion seems confusing, it is because he appears to be equivocating on the term “bad” and conflating the categories of intrinsic bad (or harm) and comparative bad (or harm). As pointed out above in n. 20, the fact that some circumstance is “not bad” in itself (i.e., not intrinsically bad) never implies that some other circumstance could not be better—as Benatar here claims it cannot be. That which is worse off in a comparison suffers not intrinsic harm but comparative harm. The runner who finished in second place is in a “not bad” state, all things considered, yet she suffered the comparative harm of not finishing in first place. Correspondingly, the first-place finisher enjoys advantage or comparative benefit over the second-place finisher.

⁷² Benatar, Better, 58. While it is not the purpose of this essay for me personally to critique David Benatar’s philosophy (as much as to allow Qoheleth the opportunity), it is difficult not to notice a questionable element in his foundational premise, which then logically extends to his entire project. Benatar assumes that “deprivation” is only a subjective category involving the conscious awareness of that which is lacking: since non-existers have no consciousness of what they lack, they are not being “deprived” of life’s goods. But in fact, it seems more typical to regard deprivation in an objective sense, and Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “deprivation” in purely objective terms: “the state of being kept from possessing, enjoying, or using something: the state of being deprived” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, “Deprivation,” https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/deprivation). For example, the 2015 film Room portrays a boy who has spent the first five years of his life trapped inside a small, filthy room, playing with paper boats in toilet water. The boy experiences no subjective awareness (and thus feels no subjective deprivation) of the world beyond those walls—of grass, trees, animals. Yet, this in no way prevents us from surmising that the boy has been genuinely “deprived” of something which would have been good for him. The same would seem to apply for non-existent persons: they are missing something which would have been good for them to experience, whether or not they know it.

⁷³ As discussed in n. 29, Qoheleth lists the deprivations that can be predicated of the stillborn as concessive with respect to its sole advantage—rest.

⁷⁴ Qoheleth’s ominous address to the reader in 9:10 (“Sheol, to which you are going,” שָׁמָּה אַתָהּ הֹלֵךְ) corresponds to the stillborn’s dark traverse (“in darkness it goes,” וּבַחֹשֶׁךְ יֵלֵךְ, 6:4) and the rhetorical question of 6:6b, “do not all/both go to one place?” [הֲלֹא אֶל־מָקוֹם אֶחָד הַכּלֹ הוֹלֵךְ] (see also 3:20; 5:14–15; 12:5). Even though the book’s prologue characterizes “going” [הלך] in the world as a generally interminable affair (e.g., 1:4, 6, 7), death provides the exception to the rule. If any telos be granted for human “goings” in Qoheleth’s philosophy, it is death alone.

⁷⁵ This account of harming is referred to in contemporary philosophical literature as the counterfactual comparative account (CCA). See Feinberg, “Wrongful Life”; Purshouse, Craig, “A Defence of the Counterfactual Account of Harm,” Bioethics 30 (2016) 251–59CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed; Klocksiem, Justin, “A Defense of the Counterfactual Comparative Account of Harm,” American Philosophical Quarterly 49 (2012) 285–300Google Scholar. Klocksiem defines a harm as the following: “an event, e, constitutes a harm for S if and only if S is better off in the nearest possible world in which e does not occur than she is in the relevant e-world” (285). I would only modify this account by clarifying that the event which constitutes the harm may also be a “non-event,” or non-occurrence. This would be true in cases where a potential person (who, if conceived and born, would have lived an overall beneficial life) is harmed by not being brought into existence: a particular event which might have occurred does not occur, and this creates a harm. It must be acknowledged that this position does entail an apparently ludicrous implication—namely, that billions upon billions of potential but unconceived humans have been “harmed” by not being brought into existence, and thus deserve our grief (Shelly Kagan, Death [New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012] 221). But this implication need not be a defeater for CCA. It may well be the case that some untold number of potential, non-existent persons have been harmed in the comparative sense, but a comparative harm is (in most cases) not nearly as severe as an intrinsic harm (such as being inflicted with prolonged pain), and so the degree of grief we might feel for the billions of unconceived persons might be comparable to the degree of grief we feel that many of our own lives are not much greater than they actually are, certainly not as great as they theoretically could be if other events would have occurred (or not occurred). My interpretation of Qoheleth suggests he would concur with a CCA account.

⁷⁶ Note that both Benatar and Qoheleth arrive at the conclusion that non-existence is better only in situations where no goods are tallied whatsoever. In other words, neither of them makes the claim based only on some amount of badness outweighing some lesser amount of goodness. The difference is that for Qoheleth, this non-contribution of goods is a unique condition, whereas for Benatar, it is a priori universal, given his “no deprivation for non-existers” premise.

⁷⁷ Kagan, Death, 258, explains the three categories as follows: (a) optimists are those who think that always and for everyone, existence is better than non-existence; (b) pessimists believe the opposite, that non-existence is always to be preferred; (c) moderates hold that it depends on the given circumstance.