And what does it actually mean to live well? For Setiyah, it’s not about longing for the perfect life, but about embracing one of the many possibilities of a “good enough life.” Because of chronic pain, it’s definitely disease related. He recalls the agony and humiliation when “apparently his teenage urologist” inserted a camera into his urethra as one of his many attempts to diagnose his condition. Later, hobbled back to his office in the University of Pittsburgh skyscraper, Setiya said, “Like blood dripping from my underwear, the giant penis of Pitts Cathedral looms over me. I noticed. The pain prevented Setiya from working or spending time with his family, but he probably limited both.
Although “Life is Hard” claims to be a work of familiar philosophy, many of its insights are borrowed from other fields (literature, journalism, disability studies). Historically, philosophers who focused on the “ideal life of celibacy” have had trouble accepting that people with disabilities can still live well. Setiya’s approach blends empathy and common sense. Indeed, a blind or completely immobile person may not be able to enjoy certain pleasures, at least in a typical way. And getting hurt can be traumatic. But no one can do all the things worth doing in one lifetime. Our possibilities and options are always limited.
Setiya provides neither a brief gist nor explicit instructions. Instead, he invites readers to look at life’s challenges, such as loneliness, injustice, and sadness, and participate in turning them upside down and examining them from every angle. Sometimes these twists make it difficult to grasp his ultimate point. For example, in his discussion of the possible extinction of the human race, Setiya movingly argues that without the promise of future societies to reap the consequences, it is difficult to find meaning in our actions. He then argues the opposite: if our actions were not in vain twenty generations before our extinction, they would be just as important for the last people on earth. Setiyah’s words that we should try to reduce and “repair the future” are certainly correct. Yet, for many of us, it is difficult to assuage fears that it may be too late to prevent ecological catastrophe, or to ignore grief over what has already been lost.
The golden thread running through “Life Is Hard” is Setiya’s belief in the value of proper attention. No matter how much we try to avoid it, pain is a reminder that we are forever connected to our bodies. Ideally, it also helps us imagine what it would be like to live in someone else’s body, imbuing us with a “presumed compassion for all others.” Whether it’s a friend or a stranger on the bus, listening carefully can help you feel less alone. “Reading” others is trying as hard as we can to understand their full humanity, and is a small step towards a more just world. By cultivating sensitivity to ourselves and others, we can escape another destructive modern myth.
Mindfulness is also Setiya’s answer to the threat of personal failure. He argues that if we could teach ourselves to be aware of the various wonderful events in our lives, we would be much less likely to brand ourselves with a single label of winner or loser. encourages readers to abandon simple narratives about lifelong success. I think this is why Setiya often concludes in poetry rather than in philosophy. Experiences of suffering lead to troubling and counterintuitive truths.