If I became a philosopher, if I have so keenly sought this fame for which I’m still waiting, it’s all been to seduce women basically.

Taken at face value, the line is a deliberately deflating confession: the lofty public motives attached to philosophy (truth, wisdom, moral seriousness) are reduced to a private, erotic aim. Read more broadly, it fits Sartre’s recurring interest in “bad faith” and self-mythologizing—how people retrofit noble narratives onto choices driven by desire, vanity, or the wish to be desired. The remark also gestures toward the entanglement of intellectual prestige and sexual power in literary culture: “fame” becomes a form of seduction, and the philosopher’s authority a social instrument rather than a purely cognitive vocation. Its bluntness suggests provocation or self-parody rather than a settled doctrine.