Beyond Activity: Epiphany and Serendipidty
I should start this post with thanks to
. She shared this topic with me via DM. I hope what follows is useful in some sort of way!
As we have said, there is an annoying paradox when it comes to Epiphany. On the one hand, it is something that is said to come to us without our looking for it. On the other hand, it is supposed to be ‘ours,’ in the sense that it should be possible for us to say that we were the ones who found it.
These to features seem to be in tension. How could it be ours if we didn’t look for it?OK—Nothing new so far. Just background.
What
pointed out to me in DMs, though, is that serendipity, curiously, has something of a similar structure. According to Merriam Webster, serendipity is defined as:: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for
also : an instance of this
Once more, we see two contradictory languages—an active one: talk of finding something valuable; and a passive one: the idea that this valuable thing found was not sought, not looked for. Once more, we are cast as both active and passive with respect to some thing—we find it, and finding is an action—but the finding somehow merely happens to us. We were not looking for it, after all.
Like the case of Epiphany, we seem to be faced with a paradox. How could we find something if we weren’t searching for it? Wouldn’t it be more of a stumbling or a surprise. Again, the paradox does not resolve easily. Like epiphany, it is essential to serendipity that the thing we find also happens to be exactly the thing we were not looking for.
It’s at this point in the conversation that we begin to hear some more complicated machinery in order to assuage the feeling of paradox. The person talking about serendipity might say something like: I didn’t even know I needed it, or I didn’t even know I was looking for it.
While I imagine there is a great deal to be said about such a response, it will not be my focus for today. Rather, I’ve begun to think that what is happening in the case of Epiphany and Serendipity is an example of a feature of the position we are put in as reflective beings.
Let’s break down Epiphany and Serendipity a bit more.
Crucially, I think, both are sorts of experiences we can have. An Epiphany is a name of an event we experience. An idea pops into our head and we say to ourselves, “Oh my god! An Epiphany! Eureka!”
Similarly serendipidty is often something we ascribe to a state of affairs after the fact. We run into an old friend who we’d missed, perhaps subconsciously, and, as we turn to wave goodbye, say: “What a serendipidous meeting!”
Good. Now, not only are the two both sorts of experiences we can have, but, as we have said, both have ‘active and passive’ components.
In the case of Epiphany, we realize. In the case of Serendipidty, we find. These are both normally activities that require a great deal of planning, and, in some cases, can be life accomplishments.
If, after a great deal of deliberation, I realize the geology class simply isn’t worth taking, this is a certain sort of accomplishment. Namely, it is an accomplishment that flows from my very agency, a decision that I made. It is my decision. Attributable to me. If you disagree with it, well, I’m the person you can discuss any complaints with. I’m answerable.
Similarly, if I am searching for a friend from my childhood and, after weeks of research, finally succeed in contacting them, once again, this is my accomplishment. If you doubt whether it was a worthwhile use of my time, once more, you can take it up with me.
So far so good, but the cases of Epiphany and Serendipidty are more than just normal realization or finding. Namely, it is essential to Epiphany and Serendipidty that they are unbeckoned.
While, in the case of my geology class, after spending a great deal of time thinking about it I had an Epiphany, that need not have been the case for my realization to have been an epiphany. It just as well could have been something that struck me as true as I walked down the street.
Serendipidty is perhaps even more illustrative. For something to be a case of serendipidty, I need not have done any searching at all. If I stumble upon an old friend who I hadn’t thought much about, that can be serendipitous on its own.
With all this on the table, I think it is worth pointing out a difference between the cases of realization and finding, and the cases of Epiphany and Serendipidty.
While they all involve some sense of activity: talk of ‘realizing’ or ‘finding’—things we do—is present in each, I have begun to think they are not the same senses of activity. I will attempt to show this by noting that we are happy for people who realize and find in a different way than we are happy for people who experience an epiphany or moment of serendipidty.
When we realize or find something, as I said, there is a sense in which it is our achievement and we are up to bat for it. If you think I came to a great conclusion, or that I found something worthwhile, you might come up to me and pat me on the back. Philosophers call this answerability. In these cases, I am answerable to praise or blame depending on the quality of my decision or find.
Yet, when we have an Epiphany or moment of Serendipidty, while the same ‘active language’ may be used, the discussion of answerability is much more mixed.
Imagine: I have the Epiphany that I don’t want to go to graduate school because I want to work in the corporate world.
On the one hand, this is a practical achievement of mine, and, if I confide in you, you might be quite happy for me. I, after all, now know what it is that I am going to do — or, at the very least, I have a new data-point to make use of. On the other hand, there is a sense in which, compared to the previously discussed case of realization after deliberation, this looks to be less of an intellectual or perhaps human achievement. It is not that I came to it, after all, after a great deal of deliberation. One way to draw this out: if you push me on my decision, I might resort to platitudes or self-assertion, saying things like: “it’s just what I want right now,” or “to be honest, I’m not sure why my priorities changed.”
Thus, while you might be happy for me that I’ve had the conclusion, you are happy for me in the way you would be had I solved any sort of problem. You are not, however, happy for me in the sort of distinctive way you might be had I, myself, made up my mind. Had I deliberated all the options, weighed them up, and decided.
The praise available to someone who has an Epiphany is different from that available to the person who has a realization.
Unsurprisingly, a similar pattern seems to hold for Serendipidty when compared to purposeful finding. Once more, something nice has surely happened. And, further, were I to tell you about it, you will likely be happy for me. You, further, will be happier about the same thing you were in the case of Epiphany: you are glad things went my way, or, maybe, as I would’ve liked them to.
And, once again, this is different from the sort of happiness or pride you might feel for me when I just get lucky: if I find a 20 dollar bill on the ground or my stuffy nose goes away. Further, the happiness you feel for me is certainly different from the sort of happiness you might feel for a squirrel that finds a nut on the ground, or an ant that finds a big piece of cake that has fallen onto the ground.
After all, when I run into someone who I’d wanted to see (but hadn’t been looking for!), there is once again this sense in which the run-in isn’t just good for me practically, but good for me as a person or human. A desire of mine was satisfied—things went the way I wanted them to. I am not merely practically better off, but I’ve had a win. And, if you ask me to tell you why I am so excited at seeing my long lost friend, I can tell you.
Thus, the sense in which I am open to praise (or questions, for that matter) is different depending on whether I find on purpose or I find on accident.
This is an important conclusion. For now, though, I think it puts to rest any concerns we might’ve had about paradox when it comes to Epiphany or Serendipidty. Namely, it provides us with a new way to look at them.
Before, we took Epiphany and Serendipidty to be partially active and partially passive. Partially involving realization and partially involving ‘stumbling upon’ at no fault of our own. This is what gave rise to paradox. But maybe this is not right. After all, it seems that we don’t treat Epiphanies as entirely active (i.e., open to the full spectrum of praise) nor entirely passive. Maybe, then, there is another way we can relate to our acts, not fully active, but not fully passive either.
Or, perhaps, there is a way to go beyond the division. To be more than merely active and more than merely passive: to pull the two together somehow. To make the passive active, if that makes any sense. But that’s a subject for another day!
Written beautifully as always!