The Search for How to Be Human: A Philosopher’s Journey

Here’s a strange thing philosophers noticed a long time ago: you can be healthy, rich, popular, powerful, and good-looking—and still not be truly happy. In fact, you can have all those things and feel empty. What’s going on?

A man named ‘Abd al-Latif al-Baghdadi—who was born in Baghdad in 1162 and spent his life traveling across the Middle East studying, teaching, and arguing—thought about this puzzle for decades. He came to a conclusion that might sound unusual: the only thing that can make a human being truly happy is knowing the truth about what things really are. Not knowing facts for a test. Not knowing how to get what you want. But knowing, deep down, what the world is made of, why it exists, and what you’re supposed to do with your life.

That might sound like a pretty big project. It is. And ‘Abd al-Latif had strong opinions about how to do it—and about how pretty much everyone around him was doing it wrong.

What Are You Really Supposed to Be Doing?

‘Abd al-Latif starts with a question that sounds simple but gets complicated fast: what is the point of being human?

Animals, he says, have bodies, senses, and the ability to figure out how to stay alive. A cat knows how to hunt. A bird knows how to build a nest. But animals don’t look up at the stars and wonder why they’re there. They don’t ask what caused the world to exist. They don’t feel that strange pull to understand things just for the sake of understanding them.

Humans do. And that, for ‘Abd al-Latif, is the clue to what we’re supposed to be doing.

He thinks human beings have a kind of perfection they’re meant to reach—not physical perfection, like being strong or fast, but intellectual perfection. The point of your life, he says, is to understand the true causes of things. Why does this exist? What is it made of? What is it for? The more you understand these questions, the more fully human you become.

But here’s the kicker: you can’t just sit in a room and think about abstract ideas. Real knowledge, for ‘Abd al-Latif, has to change how you live. If you understand what justice really is, you should become a more just person. If you understand what goodness is, you should become better. Theoretical knowledge and practical action are tied together. A philosopher who knows all about virtue but acts like a jerk hasn’t really learned anything at all.

The Ancients Versus the Moderns

‘Abd al-Latif had a very clear picture of who got this right and who got it wrong.

The people who got it right, in his view, were the “Ancients”—especially Plato and Aristotle. He believed they had worked out a complete system for understanding reality, a method that started with what your senses tell you and gradually moved up to the deepest causes of everything. He thought their philosophy covered everything: logic (how to think correctly), natural science (how to understand the physical world), ethics (how to live well), and politics (how to organize society justly). And he thought this system was so perfect that later philosophers basically just needed to study it and understand it correctly, not try to invent something better.

The people who got it wrong were the “Moderns”—especially a philosopher named Avicenna (Ibn Sina), who lived about a hundred years before ‘Abd al-Latif and was incredibly famous. Avicenna had written huge books trying to summarize all of philosophy and medicine. But ‘Abd al-Latif thought Avicenna’s work was full of mistakes and confusions.

His criticisms are specific and sharp. Avicenna, he says, completely ignored practical philosophy—he didn’t write about ethics or politics, which are essential for actually living a good life. He didn’t follow Aristotle’s rule that you should start your investigation with what’s obvious to the senses and work your way up to deeper causes. He reused the same material over and over in different books. And he made basic logical errors, like trying to define a father without mentioning his child, which is impossible because “father” only makes sense in relation to “child.”

For ‘Abd al-Latif, this wasn’t just academic nitpicking. Avicenna’s books had become the standard texts that everyone studied. So generations of students were learning a distorted, incomplete version of philosophy. They thought they were learning the truth, but they were actually learning mistakes.

What Metaphysics Is Really About

The most important part of philosophy, for ‘Abd al-Latif, is something called metaphysics. This gets technical, but here’s what it accomplishes: it’s the study of what is ultimately real.

Ordinary sciences—physics, biology, chemistry—study particular kinds of things. Physics studies motion. Biology studies living things. But metaphysics studies being itself. It asks: what does it mean for anything to exist at all? What are the most basic causes that make everything else possible?

‘Abd al-Latif wrote a whole book on this. In it, he tried to weave together several different traditions. He used Aristotle’s ideas about the First Mover—something that causes motion without being moved itself. He used Neoplatonic ideas (from philosophers who came after Plato and Aristotle) about a single First Principle from which everything else flows, like light radiating from a source. And he used Islamic ideas about God as the Creator who is One, eternal, and provident.

He thought these traditions weren’t contradictory but actually fit together. The First Cause, he said, is pure Being—it just is, without any lack or incompleteness. It’s the goal that everything else strives toward. And it knows everything, not by looking outward at things, but by containing all ideas within itself.

This part of his philosophy is hard to follow, and ‘Abd al-Latif himself admits we can’t fully understand the First Cause. It’s like trying to look directly at the sun—you can’t do it, but you can see everything else because of its light. The First Cause is the condition for knowing anything at all, even though we can’t fully know it.

The Problem of Evil and Human Freedom

If God is good and takes care of the world, why do bad things happen? This is an old and painful question, and ‘Abd al-Latif wrestled with it.

His answer goes like this: God’s goodness flows outward to everything, like fire gives off heat. But different things can receive that goodness to different degrees. A rock can’t receive much. A plant can receive more. A human being can receive the most, because humans have reason—the ability to understand and choose.

That ability to choose is the key. God gives humans the capacity to become virtuous and wise. But whether they actually do that depends on their own choices. Evil happens when people use their reason badly, pursuing vices instead of virtues. God isn’t responsible for that—it’s the result of human freedom.

This doesn’t fully solve the problem. (Philosophers still argue about it.) But it shows ‘Abd al-Latif trying to hold two things together: that the universe has a good order, and that humans have real freedom to mess it up.

How to Tell Good Knowledge from Fake Knowledge

‘Abd al-Latif was surrounded by people claiming to have special knowledge. Alchemists said they could turn lead into gold. Fake physicians claimed to heal diseases. He had no patience for any of it.

Alchemy, he said, was a complete fraud. None of the great ancient philosophers ever wrote about it. It had no place in the genuine system of sciences. It just tricked people into wasting their time and money.

Bad medicine was another target. ‘Abd al-Latif was himself a physician, and he thought the doctors of his day were terrible. They didn’t study anatomy. They didn’t understand the causes of diseases. They just tried random treatments and hoped for the best. Good medicine, he insisted, had to be based on universal principles—understanding how the body actually works, not just guessing.

This connects to his bigger point about knowledge. Real knowledge, for ‘Abd al-Latif, has two features. First, it’s based on universal principles that hold true everywhere, not just in one place or for one person. Second, it actually works in practice. A real physician heals people. A real philosopher lives wisely. If your “knowledge” doesn’t change anything or produce real results, it’s not knowledge at all.

Why This Still Matters

‘Abd al-Latif died in 1231, nearly 800 years ago. His specific arguments about Avicenna’s mistakes probably don’t keep anyone up at night anymore. But the questions he was wrestling with are still alive.

What is the point of being human? Is it just to survive, to be comfortable, to have fun? Or is there something more—some kind of understanding or way of living that makes life genuinely meaningful? If there is, how do you find it? And how do you tell the real thing from the fakes?

‘Abd al-Latif’s answer was that philosophy—the disciplined search for truth about what’s real—is the only path to genuine happiness. He might have been wrong about that. But at least he took the question seriously enough to spend his whole life on it.

Appendix: Key Terms

Term	What It Does in This Debate
Ancients	The Greek philosophers (especially Plato and Aristotle) that ‘Abd al-Latif considered the only reliable sources of truth
Moderns	Later philosophers (especially Avicenna) who ‘Abd al-Latif thought had distorted and corrupted the Ancients’ teachings
Metaphysics	The study of what is ultimately real—the deepest causes and principles behind everything that exists
First Cause	The ultimate source of everything, which ‘Abd al-Latif identified with God—pure Being that causes all other things to exist
Providence	The idea that the First Cause takes care of the world—but in a way that still allows humans to make their own choices
Perfection	The full development of what a human being is meant to be, which ‘Abd al-Latif thought came through knowledge and virtuous living

Key People

‘Abd al-Latif al-Baghdadi (1162–1231) — A philosopher, physician, and traveler from Baghdad who spent his life arguing that the ancient Greeks had already figured out the truth and everyone after them was getting it wrong.
Avicenna (Ibn Sina, 980–1037) — A hugely influential philosopher and physician whose massive books became the standard texts in the Islamic world, but which ‘Abd al-Latif thought were full of errors and omissions.
Al-Farabi (c. 872–950) — An earlier Islamic philosopher who ‘Abd al-Latif admired because he had explained how Plato and Aristotle’s philosophies fit together as one complete system.
Aristotle (384–322 BCE) — The ancient Greek philosopher whom ‘Abd al-Latif considered the ultimate authority on logic, natural science, and metaphysics.
Plato (c. 428–348 BCE) — The ancient Greek philosopher who, for ‘Abd al-Latif, had correctly understood that justice and virtue are essential for human happiness.

Things to Think About

‘Abd al-Latif thought that studying ancient texts was the best way to find truth. But if everyone just studied the old books, how would anyone ever discover something genuinely new? Is there a way to respect past thinkers while still being open to progress?
He believed that real knowledge automatically leads to good behavior—that if you truly understand what justice is, you’ll be just. But people sometimes know the right thing and still do the wrong thing. Does that mean they don’t really know? Or is there a gap between knowing and acting that ‘Abd al-Latif didn’t account for?
Alchemy was obviously fake to ‘Abd al-Latif, but at the time, lots of smart people believed in it. How do you tell the difference between a real science and a fake one when you’re living in the middle of history and don’t know what future generations will think? What’s the equivalent of alchemy today?
If the point of being human is to understand the deepest truths about reality, what happens to people who don’t have the time, resources, or ability to do philosophy? Are they living less meaningful lives? Or is there something uncomfortable about that conclusion?

Where This Shows Up

School debates about what’s worth learning. Whenever someone argues that schools should focus on “the classics” or “the great books” instead of more modern or practical subjects, they’re echoing ‘Abd al-Latif’s belief that the Ancients had it right and we just need to study them.
Arguments about “fake news” and expertise. ‘Abd al-Latif’s frustration with alchemists and bad doctors is basically the same problem we face today: how do you tell who actually knows what they’re talking about?
Questions about the purpose of life. When people say that happiness isn’t about money or fame but about finding meaning or truth, they’re working on the same puzzle ‘Abd al-Latif spent his life trying to solve.
Science versus pseudoscience. The debate about what counts as real knowledge—and how to spot frauds—is still happening in medicine, psychology, and every other field.