Aesthetes have it all over intellectuals in one very important

Hear, O seekers of wisdom, the words of Terry Teachout, who declared with piercing wit and sober truth: “Aesthetes have it all over intellectuals in one very important respect: You’ll rarely catch us hustling anyone off to the nearest guillotine. We’re too busy trying to make the world more beautiful. Our hands are stained with ink and paint, not blood.” In this saying, the contrast is drawn between the realm of beauty and the realm of power, between those who seek to adorn the world and those who too often seek to reshape it through force.

The meaning of these words lies in the eternal divide between creation and destruction. The aesthete, the lover of art, spends their hours shaping colors, weaving words, giving form to beauty that uplifts the soul. The intellectual, in its darker form, can become ensnared by ideology, consumed by the hunger to impose abstract theories upon flesh-and-blood humanity. Where the artist wields the brush, the pen, or the chisel, the zealot may take up the blade or the guillotine, believing that paradise can be birthed through blood. Teachout reminds us that the pursuit of beauty does not demand victims, but inspires life itself.

Consider, my children, the tale of the French Revolution, when philosophers and thinkers raised their voices against tyranny. Yet as the movement deepened, many who wielded words soon wielded weapons, and the guillotine became the altar upon which countless lives were sacrificed in the name of reason and equality. Amidst this chaos, artists and poets sought refuge in their craft, resisting brutality with beauty. Their hands were not red with blood, but bright with ink and paint, preserving humanity even when society devoured itself. This history is the very echo of Teachout’s warning: that the pursuit of lofty ideals without mercy can descend into violence, while the pursuit of beauty nourishes life.

The origin of Teachout’s insight rests in his life as a critic, writer, and lover of the arts. He had seen the battles of ideology, where pride in intellect turns to disdain for those who disagree, and where abstract theories justify cruelty. Yet he also knew the healing power of art—how a song, a painting, or a play can unite souls, soften hearts, and raise the spirit above vengeance. His words are both a defense of the artist’s path and a critique of intellectual arrogance that forgets compassion.

Let us not mistake him, O hearers, as scorning knowledge itself. No—Teachout does not despise intellectuals, but warns of their excess. When knowledge is joined with humility, it can enlighten and guide. But when it hardens into ideology without love, it can destroy. The aesthete, by contrast, is tethered always to beauty, and beauty by nature gives rather than takes, heals rather than wounds. Thus he urges us: better to stain one’s hands with ink and paint than with blood.

The lesson is clear: seek to be creators, not destroyers. Build rather than tear down. When tempted to impose your will through force, remember that true power lies not in compulsion but in inspiration. The artist does not demand obedience; the artist awakens desire. A single work of beauty may do more to transform the heart than a thousand decrees enforced by the sword.

Practical actions lie before you: in your life, cultivate art, music, literature—both as maker and as beholder. Choose to elevate rather than dominate. Let your words be gentle as brushstrokes, not sharp as blades. Engage in discourse, yes, but let beauty temper reason, lest intellect turn cruel. Teach your children to love beauty, for those who love beauty will never delight in destruction.

Thus, O heirs of tomorrow, take to heart the wisdom of Teachout. Let your hands be stained not with blood, but with the colors of creation. For at the end of all empires, it is not the guillotine that endures, but the painting, the poem, the song. Seek beauty, and you shall leave behind life, not death.