If you’re human and more than 10 years old, at least one haircut in your life probably made you feel that you look like a freak. Something as simple as a haircut can take you from reasonably unnerved by your appearance to horrified by it; And as philosophers have demonstrated through the centuries, a bad hair day seems to trigger as much profound thought as other, more obvious life-altering events.

Consider Jean-Paul Sartre, French existentialist thinker, At one point he seemingly suggests a direct correlation between thinking and a consciousness of one’s own ugliness. Incidentally, Sartre went through a sticky hair-related experience of his own at age 7. Till then, his vibrant head of golden curls, religiously tended to by his mother, had caused people to give him the nickname of ‘the angel’. Turns out Sartre’s grandfather thought angelic was a wonderful thing for a girl to be, but that it was ridiculous for a boy. One day, when the boy’s mother was out, he took Sartre with him for a ‘special treat’—a haircut. Jean-Paul could barely wait to show his new look to his mother; imagine his mystification when she took one look at him, ran up the stairs, and flung herself on the bed sobbing as though someone had died. Which in effect, someone had: her ‘angel’. No-one again used that adjective for the young Sartre. And it was the first time that he realized that he was, as his lover Sally Swing would later say of him, ‘ugly as sin’.

‘The fact of my ugliness’ went on to become the underlying thread of Sartre’s writing, and later almost worn like a badge of honor. He often conveyed the impression that thinking, questioning, challenging, arose out of a consciousness of one’s own ugliness.

It’s also significant that the reverse is universally considered to be true—the presence of beauty seems to generate poetic and philosophical reactions in admirers, even though it not unusual for beautiful people themselves  to be considered not the sharpest-knife-in-the drawer, or of less than average intelligence. The ability to philosophize seems as natural by the ugly people in the world, as the lack of wit seems to be by the good-lookers who live among us. Is it fair to say then, that philosophy, often becomes a satire on beauty?

Sartre wasn’t alone among the philosophers to almost canonize ugliness; Socrates makes a big deal out of his own less than stellar appearance.

There is also the implication in philosophers’ works—such as Plato’s Phaedo—that If we need to die in order to attain the true, the good, and the beautiful, it must be because truth, goodness, and beauty elude us so comprehensively in life. You think you’re beautiful? Socrates seems to say. Well, think again! The idea of beauty, in this world, is like a mistake.

Perhaps Socrates’ ongoing mission aspires to make ugliness acceptable, even normal. Who is truly beautiful, all the time? Similarly, when philosophers equate beauty with perfection—and perfection as something only God can claim—they in fact allow us room for our imperfections, for our crises-in-the-mirror ever so often. A crisis that might be alleviated by creams and potions, chic clothes and cosmetic surgery, but that can never be entirely done away with...that is, except for that horrible haircut that grows out to give us another try for perfection in this dimension of our being. Ultimately to be completely satisfied with your beauty would be to claim perfection. And where there is perfection, is there room for thought?