The scoundrel you cannot refute
Can a shameless man defend flattery, greed and self-abasement so well that honesty has no reply? Diderot builds exactly that scoundrel and, unnervingly, lets him hold his own.
The dialogue pits a level-headed philosopher against Rameau's nephew, a failed musician and cheerful sponger who defends toadying and self-abasement as simply how a poor man survives among the rich. His case is witty, frank and hard to answer: the moralist's virtues, he suggests, are luxuries of the comfortable, and everyone performs for their supper whether they admit it or not. Diderot does not let the philosopher win cleanly, and leaves the reader unsure he should. It is his most unsettling book, the one he kept out of print entirely, because the cynic's honesty about how the world works is not so easily dismissed.
- cynicism
- survival
- morality
- social status
- poverty
- dignity
- deception
- manipulation
- character
- education
Enter a dialogue
- Called a lazy, greedy coward, your sponging musician replies, 'I think I told you so.' Does shame stop working once a man admits the charge?
- You let the scoundrel hold his own against the honest man. Weren't you afraid you had made the wrong side the persuasive one?
- Your sponging musician says that in a whole kingdom only the king stands upright and everyone else bows and scrapes. Can anyone avoid the bowing?
- Your musician will not teach his son honesty: good teaching against bad blood breeds mediocrity, he says. Is a thorough rogue better than a half-honest man?
- Your philosopher tells the sponging musician that crawling has a price. He answers that it cost him little and now costs nothing. Is the price still real?