"We seek true individuality and the true individuals. But we find them not. For lo, we mortals see what our poor eyes can see; and they, the true individuals, - they belong not to this world of our merely human sense and thought"

Josiah Royce’s words reflect a profound philosophical observation on the human quest for authenticity and uniqueness. The desire for “true individuality” stems from an intrinsic longing to distinguish oneself from the masses, to embody traits, thoughts, and feelings that are wholly original and untouched by the currents of societal influence. However, Royce suggests a persistent disappointment in this search. Despite earnest effort, our perception never seems to capture genuine individuality, neither in ourselves nor in others. Our understanding is consistently limited by the shortcomings of our human faculties, what our “poor eyes can see.”

He implies that the senses and intellect are restricted, influenced by biases, cultural frameworks, and the boundaries of language. We may look closely at others or even attempt introspection, seeking that core that marks us or another as wholly unique. Yet, time and again, all that is truly individual evades comprehensive grasp. The implication is that “true individuals” exist not in the empirical world, the sphere of everyday experience and observation, but perhaps only in the realm of ideals or possibilities, places “not…of our merely human sense and thought.” The phrase suggests a metaphysical dimension to individuality, something transcendent to which we aspire but which always slips through our grasp.

Royce points out the limitations of human perception and rationality. Perhaps every act of categorization, every attempt to define or encapsulate someone’s identity, falls short. True individuality, then, might be more of an aspiration, a regulative ideal, than a tangible reality accessible to ordinary consciousness. The yearning for the singular and unrepeatable, in ourselves and in others, is indelibly tied to the fact that, as mortals, we are bound by finite senses and thoughts. There’s a subtle melancholy here, but also an invitation: to remain aware of the mystery and depth in each person, never finally exhausted by observation or analysis.