When Success Feels Empty: On Material Triumph and Human Loss

From Socratic Wisdom to Córdoba’s Civilization: Why Modern Achievement Often Fails the Soul

I was watching a program recently where entrepreneurs celebrated their achievements — towers built, companies launched, revenue multiplied. Their voices were full of energy, but the more they spoke, the more the entire conversation flattened into something strangely hollow.

It struck me that if I had built the largest building in the world, I would feel… almost nothing. Not because achievement is meaningless, but because achievement without inner purpose cannot satisfy the human soul.

We repeat the modern mantra:
“If you want to succeed, you have to work.”
Yes — but the question is, work for what?

When the goal is purely material, work becomes mechanical. When the goal is meaning, work becomes transformative. I can work hard. Many of us can. What we struggle with is devoting our lives to goals that are spiritually weightless.

Socrates famously declared that “the unexamined life is not worth living” (Plato, Apology). He urged us to scrutinize our desires, our ambitions, our very understanding of success. Without reflection, achievement is merely accumulation — not cultivation. Aristotle, too, reminds us that the purpose of life is eudaimonia — flourishing — achieved not through wealth or fame, but through the practice of virtue and the cultivation of the soul (Nicomachean Ethics). Excellence, for Aristotle, is measured not by buildings erected or bank balances inflated, but by the harmony between our actions, our character, and our reason. Work, when guided by virtue, becomes not just a means to an end, but a path to personal and communal fulfillment.

Centuries ago in Córdoba, success was measured differently. Scholars debated philosophy, poets explored the depths of the human heart, artisans perfected beauty in form and function (Menocal, The Ornament of the World). They were not driven by profit, but by the desire to elevate the human being — and in turn, their civilization rose to a greatness we can hardly imagine today.

Modern Examples of Hollow Triumph

In classical Greece, the dignity of civilization was tied to discourse and the cultivation of mind and character. Those unable to engage in conversation turned to entertainers, singers, or performers — a telling reflection on the necessity of intellectual and ethical depth. Today, the most celebrated figures are businessmen, actors, and musicians. Success is measured in dollars, followers, and visibility, not wisdom, virtue, or the enrichment of the soul (Lane, The Loss of Happiness in Market Democracies).

Musicians, once custodians of emotional and cognitive depth, are valued for instant gratification rather than mastery or transcendence. European opera, for instance, was not mere spectacle; it was crafted to move listeners, awaken the senses, and cultivate the nervous system itself (Abbate, Music and the Art of Discourse). Galleries, museums, and salons provided spaces for reflection and education, shaping taste, discernment, and moral imagination.

Today, these pursuits are often commodified or reduced to entertainment. Genuine conversation is rare; serious discourse resides mainly in universities or specialized circles. Civilization has become excellent at building things — skyscrapers, companies, social media empires — but poor at building people. Fame and wealth may dazzle, but they rarely nurture wisdom, virtue, or inner life.

And yet, there is hope — not because we see traces of that old spirit around us, but because Imam Ali (as) reminds us that “every cure is within us.” Rebuilding meaning is possible; it requires a shift in goal, intention, and metrics of a life well-lived. Córdoba teaches us that civilization begins in the soul long before it appears in stone. Socrates would urge us to examine our motives. Aristotle would remind us to cultivate virtue with consistency.

Perhaps the skyscrapers of our cities are impressive, but the skyscrapers of the soul — wisdom, virtue, reflection, compassion — are infinitely taller. They require no cranes, no capital, no certificates of achievement. Yet they endure far longer, shaping civilizations and leaving legacies that stone alone cannot. If we seek a world that is not only prosperous but truly great, the work must start with us — by questioning why we labor, what we value, and how we measure a life well-lived.

References

• Abbate, Carolyn. Music and the Art of Discourse: Music, Meaning, and the Human Mind. Princeton University Press, 2004.

• Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics. Translated by Terence Irwin. 2nd ed. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1999.

• Kahneman, Daniel. Thinking, Fast and Slow. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011.

• Lane, Robert E. The Loss of Happiness in Market Democracies. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000.

• Menocal, Maria Rosa. The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 2002.

• Plato. Apology. Translated by Benjamin Jowett. In The Dialogues of Plato. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1892.

• Saliba, George. Islamic Science and the Making of the European Renaissance. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007.

• Syed, Nasreen T. When Success Feels Empty: On Material Triumph and Human Loss. [This article]