On Possessions

I'm currently halfway through Book 2 of Epictetus' Discourses. The lack of posts about the book is not an indication that I don't like it. Epictetus continues to be one of my favorite philosophers, vying for the top spot with Seneca I suppose. I find the Discourses to be a bit more rambling and incoherent than the Enchiridion. A more thorough reading is required, but I don't mind that. The wisdom contained with in the words, especially in Book 2, is obvious.

At the risk of slighting some his more important arguments, I'd like to praise one in particular. We exercise great care in tending to our car, our house, and our body. We submit them only to people trained in their care - mechanics, artisans, and physicians. Where I grew up, at least, contractors and electricians and the like could live just as comfortably as doctors; their importance is obvious. But our greatest possession is necessarily the one that commands all the others, and evaluates and values them.

Is that greatest possession our soul, or our reason, or our intellect? Here I find Stoicism essentially in conflict with religion, if only trivially. The obvious theological answer would be the soul. Stoics, identifying reason as the gift of the divine unto us, would say our reason is our most precious possession. A trivial incongruity, perhaps, but with large ramifications for personal ethics. Should I place more care in finding a mentor for my soul, or for my reason?

I can choose to spend time devoting myself to religion, working on living virtuously and correctly. Or, I can choose to focus on developing my reason - reading philosophy, expanding my intellect, etc. At this point I feel the soul will be enriched necessarily by enriching the intellect - but not at the expense of neglecting piety. Hence, though I am becoming more active in my religious beliefs, I realize I should expand my activity. Though not at the expense of diminishing my intellectual pursuits. If only days were longer....

On Proper Preparation

From Epictetus' Discourses, Book 1, Chapter 17:

If you want to hear about moral improvement, well and good. But if you say to me, "I do not know whether you argue truly or falsely," and if I use an ambiguous word and you say to me "distinguish," I shall grow impatient and say to you, "this is the more pressing need." It is for this reason, I suppose, that men put the processes of logic in the forefront, just as we put the testing of the measure before the measuring of the corn. And if we do not determine first what is the bushel and what is the scale, how shall we be able to measure or weigh anything? So in the sphere of though if we have not fully grasped and trained to perfection the instrument by which we judge other things and understand other things, shall we ever be able to arrive at accurate knowledge? Of course, it is impossible.


Perhaps that will be a new resolution of mine. To pursue the study of logic to bolster my capacity to develop and understand arguments. This brings to mind a passage by Hobbes, from the Leviathan, Part 1, Chapter IV:

Seeing then that truth consisteth in the right ordering of names in our affirmations, a man that seeketh precise truth, had need to remember what every name he uses stands for; and to place it accordingly.


My girlfriend recently tipped me off to an iPod app that presents 4 or so English words a day. I had already had a word of the day, but rarely looked at it. This new app includes a few fancier features and also includes the words of the day in other languages that are part of my Google Reader feed. Perhaps that will satisfy Hobbes.

The Consolation of Philosophy V

Ending his work on a high note, Boethius had some wisdom left to impart in his fifth chapter. Far from what prompted the original discussion with a corporeal version of Philosophy, this chapter dealt with fate vs. free will and how free will can be reconciled with divine providence.

The first major argument was that chance is meaningless. Every occurrence in the present proceeds directly from the past. The future would be predictable if only we had divine intelligence. I personally think this is an extremely pressing issue in modern philosophy. With increasing scientific understanding of psychology and biology, often at the molecular level, more and more behavior can be causally explained. Are we trending towards a future of accurate prediction of human behavior? Or is chaos theory accurate in labeling some activity as inherently unpredictable, even to an infinite intellect? To some extent these are no longer philosophical questions, but mathematical. Regardless, I think Boethius was on the right track in exploring determinism. Notable in his argument's faults, however, he seems to define chance not only externally, but also from a personal viewpoint. From that latter standpoint, of course, chance does exist. A human intellect is of course faulty, and so we cannot predict future events from past experiences; the future inherently contains the unexpected for us, and hence chance is a part of the human condition.

The second major argument was that divine providence does not interfere with free will. God knows what will happen, transcendent of time, much the same way a statement is inherently true or false. A statement about the future may be true or false to our knowledge, not necessitating the future to follow any particular path. God, however, must always know the true statement about the future, still independent of the future actually ending up that way. And so the future is not constrained in any way, at least not by God, yet He still has knowledge of what happened, is happening, and will happen. It is much like human knowledge of the past - true, but without requiring it to have happened.

How divine providence can be reconciled with chaos theory, if it turns out that parts of the universe are truly unknowable, is certainly an interesting question for modern philosophy as well.

The Consolation of Philosophy IV

I don't think I found one iota of useful discourse in this chapter. The main argument is that while it may seem that good people sometimes experience hardship, and bad people sometimes profit, that really this doesn't happen. The good are also truly powerful, and the bad are truly powerless.

To make these conclusions Boethius has to carefully define many terms and concepts, sometimes redefining what he spoke of in previous chapters. Happiness is still the unity of independence, power, fame, glory, and pleasure. Pursuit of that happiness is divine and truly good. Good people, in making advances towards happiness, are powerful and bad people are powerless as they do not advance towards happiness. This is a conclusion of his - I don't follow. It also appears Boethius defines good and evil as a dichotomy; a person is either good, or bad. Nowhere does he mention how he separates people, and nowhere does he even pay lip service to the idea of a graduated scale of good and evil.

Most of the latter half of the chapter concerns how God administers the universe, and why we (incorrectly) perceive injustice. I found the argument to be shallow and poorly evidenced, even considering the early state of the Christian religion at the time. Descartes and Spinoza had much better theological arguments, and Seneca had a much clearer discussion of why good things happen to bad people.

The Consolation of Philosophy III

Book 3, to my knowledge for the first time in The Consolation of Philosophy, makes extensive use of the Socratic method. By that, I mean a series of rhetorical questions, simply answered affirmatively or negatively, which push the argument towards a desired conclusion. I rather like this style of argument, if done correctly and without missing connections. Boethius doesn't err in his style, but rather in substance. The meat of this chapter is essentially that happiness comprises 5 things: independence, power, renown, glory, and bodily pleasure. Towards the end of the chapter he changes somewhat to adoration of God and a heavily simplified proof of why God must exist. Descartes and Spinoza offered much more in-depth arguments along the same lines for why God must exist and what He is - both arguments, by the way, I disagree with, not on the basis of their conclusion, but on the means.

What perplexes me is the inclusion of glory and renown within happiness. Power is also a strange choice, although perhaps less strange. It was not even yesterday that I was reading Boethius denounce glory as an insignificant, transient condition. Indeed, at the beginning of Book 3 he restates [Philosophy's] objections to desiring glory and fame. Yet, they are included in the definition of happiness. How can fame and glory, which are temporal and at the whim of popular opinion, constitute happiness? For happiness must be independent of others, at least it was before modern psychology. Boethius had seemed to be a budding Stoic; now I must revise that appellation. Power is also anathema to the Stoic's definition of happiness.

At the end of Book 3, I am quite in doubt of Boethius' ability to turn this book around, into a complete and coherent presentation.

The Consolation of Philosophy II

Book 2 of The Consolation of Philosophy refines many of the arguments Philosophy hinted she would make in Book 1. Much of it is more or less the Stoic party line, or close enough, but two arguments were unique enough to stand out.

The first is that happiness is truly relative. What one person thinks will bring them happiness is the accustomed possession of another. For example, while one may be dismayed to be sent into exile, that new location is of course home for many others. A poor man seeks money, a rich man seeks purpose, an important man seeks leisure, etc. For a long time I considered the theory that the extent to which things make us deviate from a state of happiness is relative. For a starving child, missing a meal is customary, and hence its sting has been neutralized by experience; whereas if a rich man missed a meal it might well be the greatest hardship he experiences in a year. The extent to which each event saddens us or enrages us is proportionate to the amount of hardship we are accustomed to. To an extent, Boethius' writing elaborates on this. Though it would be interesting to see his reaction to more modern studies on happiness, which attempt to quantitatively evaluate happiness as a function of wealth or other variables.

Perhaps the more important argument Philosophy makes is that there is no reason to pursue an important position in civil affairs. This has long been a criticism of Stoicism, that it leaves no room for the Stoic sage to pursue positions in government which could help others. I have not read enough of Stoic personal ethics to judge this criticism, but I think it is fairly accurate, at least when describing the teachings of Zeno and Chrysippus. Philosophy (the mortal, not the discipline) tells Boethius that seeking an important position is tantamount to seeking glory and fame, which of course are worthless and insignificant. The second part of that argument I agree with, but I would not say that seeking a position is identical to seeking glory. Boethius attempts to argue this and is deftly silenced. I do not see why a man may not, for example, try to win high political office for the sole purpose of exercising his virtue to aid others. After all, Stoicism is not solipsism. Indeed, helping others is a good example of the virtue of magnanimity and charity. Perhaps this question will be answered in later Books.

Ancient Geology

The last of Seneca's Dialogues and Essays was On Earthquakes, Book 6 of his Natural Questions. I will add that I am interested in reading the remainder of this large work on the natural sciences. It is true that most of his actual scientific theory is sadly outdated. I am sure that with the information available to him the book was once a valuable resource, but it is now interesting only as a relic of ancient thinking. His causes of earthquakes include large underground caverns of water, fire, and (his personal belief) the agitation of air trapped within the Earth; how the air becomes agitated, I do not know. It is somewhat disheartening to realize just how stunted natural science was in those days, but I suppose that means little to Seneca's other successes. This work, even, is sprinkled with valuable philosophical afterthoughts that tie the science into knowledge useful for all educated people.

One of the more curious things I found in the reading was this: "The reward will be to know Nature, and no prize is greater than this. The subject has numerous features which will prove useful, but the perusal of this material contains nothing more beautiful in itself than that by means of its own splendor it engages the minds of men and is cultivated, not for the sake of profit, but for the wonder it excites."


I wish I more clearly understood Seneca's meaning here. It seems to me he is saying that knowledge of this subject is valuable only in itself, not for the purpose which the knowledge serves. On the surface, this begs the question: is knowledge valuable for itself? I certainly believe it is. Knowledge is good because it is knowledge, not as a means to an end. Much like virtue is desirable only for itself. Though this does raise another issue - knowledge itself is not a virtue, and as a Stoic I recognize that virtue is the highest and most desirable possession. What place, then, does knowledge have? Is it only a means to an end, a means to achieve virtue? Delving more deeply into Seneca's statement, why is knowledge not valuable as a means to an end? Greater understanding of earthquakes has allowed modern man to minimize the danger to human life, better design buildings and possessions to withstand damage, and alter human development to avoid threat to the previous two categories. However, Seneca's particularly ambivalent attitude towards human life and possessions would make him disdainful of effort spent protecting ourselves from earthquakes. Is Seneca truly that prescient that he realized pursuit of natural science would not benefit a true Stoic? Or does he just fail to realize how incorrect he was pinpointing the causes of earthquakes? A more thorough reading of the rest of Natural Questions might resolve this series of questions. 

The Consolation of Philosophy

Tonight I also began Boethius' The Consolation of Philosophy. So far Boethius has met the incarnation of philosophy as a woman, and is discussing with her his fate and his perception of its unjustness. Not much else of substance happens in this chapter. The following four chapters look a bit more weighty.

"So there is nothing that thou shouldst wonder at, if on the seas of this life we are tossed by storm-blasts, seeing that we have made it our chiefest aim to refuse compliance with evildoers." Such is the benefit of philosophy, I suppose. An unending struggle with the unwashed hordes; made evil by a lack of proper education and virtue.

Seneca's Mercy

Today's reading from Seneca's Dialogues and Essays was On Mercy, an essay addressed to Emperor Nero. Must have been somewhat nerve-wracking, writing something to Nero, even considering Seneca's privileged position. It reminded me of the prefaces Renaissance writers put before their works. The general tone of On Mercy was a sort of blend of Aristotle and Machiavelli. Seneca extols the benefits of ruling mercifully, both intrinsic and not. He defends his position by examining virtue and necessarily how mercy, as a virtue, differs from vices such as cruelty.

Most of the essay doesn't provoke much thought on a philosophical level. The majority of the argument would be better identified as political theory, though I suppose that could be placed within the purview of philosophy. I agree that mercy is a beneficial quality in a leader, but to what extent I suppose I don't quite know. Seneca quotes an example of Emperor Augustus pardoning a young man who attempted to take the Emperor's life - I am not sure I would be so merciful. Mercy is certainly valuable insofar as the punishment must suit the crime, but it is surely difficult to guage the applicability of a punishment to different situations. Furthermore, can it be said that the degree to which mercy is valuable has changed in the past two millenia? Does the presence of social media, multiple independently-strong religions, widespread education, and the proliferation of powerful weapons change how mercy may be applied? Did the value of mercy change between when Seneca analyzed it and when Machiavelli did? If not, which of the two is correct; both have persuasive arguments.

I did agree with Seneca that mercy is surely different from pity. Pity is a vice; to pardon someone is an act of weakness. I should note that Seneca's definition of pardon, and now mine as well, is to fail to punish someone who deserves punishment. This is different from mercy, which is merely the altering of a punishment. I cede that in many cases, the merciful act and a pardon amount to the same thing. Cruelty is, in the Aristotelian tradition, the opposite extreme and thus a vice as well.

I found particularly interesting Seneca's two arguments against cruelty on the basis of signalling. For one, a large number of convicted or punished criminals allows them to see one another. If they true number of criminals was known to each of them, and they were allowed to mingle according to their own desires, then something tantamount to organized crime would result. In the same vein, a large number of criminals conveys something negative about the Emperor's ability to lead effectively. A small number of acknowledge criminals, however, indicates a successful and prosperous state. Stalin and Zedong must have read this essay.

My new nonfiction book is Under the Care of the Fatherly Leader. It's a long exploration of the lives of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il. I was more or less pushed towards this book by obvious recent events. Seneca's essay had particular gravity in relation to what I have read so far in this book. So far I have only read the first three chapters - I am roughly up to Kim Il-Sung's late twenties. His childhood in rural Korea and China is remarkably similar to that described in a book on China's Cultural Revolution I read in college. Wish I could remember the name of that one. So far I find in myself mixed feelings for Kim. Unlike his son and grandson, he labored for his country and fought for Korean independence. Patriotism like that certainly deserves my respect. On the other hand he was a Marxist. One of these days I'll get around to reading that rubbish; as Sun Tzu says, 'Know thine enemy'.

On The Shortness Of Life

This chapter of Seneca's Dialogues and Essay's is a must-read. Any Stoic would find much to interest himself in these pages, and I am sure I will return to them often. The essay is a letter to a friend of Seneca's exhorting him to use his time wisely. Seneca wants the letter's recipient to engage himself in worthwhile occupation - I found the argument compelling.

The beginning of the letter is mainly that time is valuable. It is truly the most valuable commodity of all, being the only one that cannot be acquired. We have a fixed reserve of this resource, though we don't know when it will end. Seneca takes a unique viewpoint, one which I agree with, that time given to others is more or less wasted. I would not describe all time spent this way, such as time spent with one's family, but certainly time spent responding to the demands of others is time wasted. In this way, he makes the claim that an old man may just be a man who has existed for a long time, rather than lived for a long time. Certainly this outlook has important ramifications for personal ethics. However, later in the letter, Seneca writes "For what new pleasure is there that any hour can now bring him? All are known, or have been tasted to the full." This seems to place value on new experiences. I am not yet sure of how this can be reconciled with taking control of one's own time. In my view, many experiences are simply surrendering yourself to others, so that you may see something new. Travel is much like this - surrendering yourself to a new culture in order to broaden your outlook. That is not the same as living every second on your own terms.

In discussing the past, present, and future Seneca tells the reader to take control of all three. Utilize the past and present to shape the future. Only a detailed and honest reflection on the past will allow growth and development for the future. This is quite Stoic, in my opinion. Towards the end of the letter Seneca praises philosophy as the only way to harness the intellectual power of past ages in order to increase the potency of the present. I could write a whole post on only the few paragraphs Seneca writes on this subject, and perhaps someday I will.

The Wavelength of Information

OK, so I took a few liberties with the title of this post. What I have in mind is that information can be thought of as light. With the use of a colored lens, certain wavelengths of light are allowed and others are not. This can be very useful when we want to explore things in detail. Sometimes, colored lenses allow us to pick out specific details from what we are seeing, details that would be lost if passed through a clear lens. Other times, we want to specifically ignore certain wavelengths, or maybe look at wavelengths of light that we can't normally see at all. But enough with the analogy.

The book I'm reading on food and history uses one such (specifically) colored lens. The chapter I read earlier today examined the role of food in 20th century politics. Specifically, how battling over food was at the heart of the Berlin Airlift, and how food production, or lack thereof, was at the heart of the rise and fall of Soviet communism as well as the rise and subsequent relaxation of Chinese communism. I knew of most of these events as they exist individually - the Berlin Airlift, Stalin's Five Year Plans, and Mao's Great Leap Forward - but Tom Standage presents those events under a lens I've never used before.

There is certainly much to be gained by strengthening the connections between what I know. Despite my underwhelming performance at trivia contests, I believe I have quite a bit of useful knowledge. Of course it is important to continue learning new things, and I would say that is the dominant priority of continued education. But strengthening the relationships between what I already know, forming a dense web of knowledge so to speak, is important too.

I am trying to start the habit of having Google Maps open whenever I read the news. When I read about a place I am even somewhat unfamiliar with, I'll search the location and trying to look around a bit. I hope this will build a strong geographical base from which to build a better understanding of international affairs.

The Tranquility of Mind

Seneca's dialogue with Serenus, more of an essay than a dialogue, is essentially comprised of the many tenets of Stoic morals and virtues. Seneca explains to Serenus how to maintain a tranquil mind, and in doing so runs down the 13 or so high points of Stoic doctrine.

One of the newer points was doing whatever you can to be productive and helpful. I suppose this could be inferred from more established Stoic literature, but I liked the particular exhortations on the subject of Seneca to Serenus. Essentially, one should always do what they can, regardless of the hand they are dealt. If only everyone would act in this way. I think you would see many more volunteers, at least.

A few pages later, Seneca reemphasizes that adversity grows character, indeed it is essential to our well-being. We should be thankful that habit allows us to become accustomed to adversity, allowing us to withstand it. I am not sure this is always a good thing. The way Seneca writes, it seems he had in mind perhaps a slave, who gradually becomes used to his restraints and becomes more productive and receptive of orders. However, habit could also be used maliciously. Complacency is certainly a negative possession of the mind, and allows a man to become inured to offenses against him. Habit, while it can be good, also allows man to grow weary of fighting for virtue; not all right action and judgement can be instilled once in the form of a virtue and forgotten about. Much must be fought for continuously; complacency forces some men into accepting bad as good.

Towards the end, Seneca writes that man should not always look to advance his station, but is justified in turning to entertainment at times. There is certainly an argument to be made that entertainment refreshes the mind and allows it to replenish itself. Seneca goes so far as to advocate drinking (alcohol) as a means of refreshing ourselves. I was rather shocked to see his argument progress this far, but I can't say I agree with even the beginning. For if we are in search of the Stoic sage, the perfectly wise and just man, then I doubt we would be right in holding up a weak man as our ideal. For that is what I consider entertainment to be - the indulgence of a weakness. I should qualify my position by saying I am consider television and video games as 'entertainment' as Seneca is referring to; not, for example, the ballet or the orchestra. If advancing yourself for half of the day is good, how is advancing yourself for the entire day not infinitely better?

On a meta-note: if you are a real person and not a bot, please comment or at least drop me a message. I should think a critical reading of philosophy would be much easier and more productive with another person to converse with.

Food in War

Tonight's chapter from The Edible History of Humanity was about the role food has played in war. Not terribly eye-opening. but certainly thought provoking. In ancient times, of course, food was pivotal. Armies had to forage for their own food and live off the land entirely. Alexander the Great was known for his logistical success, something I had already known. A particularly interesting fact was that armies could stay in an area only as long as they could forage within a four-day radius. Because pack animals ate through their load in eight days, after running out of food within a four-day journey the army could no longer sustain itself. I wonder what new nuances I would pick up on in Caesar's De Bello Gallico with this new outlook.

Napoleon was the Alexander the Great of his day. Indeed, he too was known for logistical success. I would be interested in reading a biography of him, or more to the point an analysis of his military campaigns and why they succeeded (until they didn't, of course). His Russian campaign in particular sounds like it would make an interesting read.

Finally, the Civil War. I had not known that after taking Atlanta, Sherman's army foraged its way to Savannah. I knew of the March to the Sea, but this makes it somewhat more gritty and difficult. I'm sure a book on that march would be excellent as well.

Woven into the chapter was a healthy discussion on the development of the tin can and other means of preserving food for the military. It was interesting hearing how canned food was made back then, and I wonder if there is a good documentary on how it is made today. 

On Anger

I managed to complete the second of Seneca's Dialogues and Essays before noon. The excerpt I have, Book 3 of his letter to Novatus (of how many books, I do not know) was fairly unorganized. Broadly, Seneca first addresses what to do when you are angry (wait, essentially), then how to avoid becoming angry, and finally how to calm down other angry people. The second of those three is by far the bulk of the section, in classic Stoic form. Much of the writing is in the form of references to historical accounts, accompanied by exhortations of the reader to live Stoically. I enjoyed the reading and expect to return to the passage in the future. Due to the chaotic nature of the letter, I'll address parts of it by section.

5 - In Aristotelian fashion, Seneca examines the nature of anger relative to other undesirable emotions. Anger is the worst of all the emotions, of course. It is the only one, in Seneca's opinion, which seizes a man and acts immediately. Moreover, unlike malice or envy, which desire a passive change in the situation, anger calls for an active change. I liked this viewpoint. It outdoes malice and envy, for those wish a man to become unfortunate, anger wishes to make him so.

7 - I was surprised to see a seemingly reversed evaluation of anger's value. Defeat will drive a man of spirit to anger, but induce sadness in one whose nature is sluggish and passive. This seems to me like Seneca looks upon anger as a sometimes-valuable emotion, when it spurs us to overcome failure or setbacks. It also makes it seem that anger is preferable to sadness, at least sometimes. This contradicts the tone of the letter and I am not sure whether this comes from the translation or not.

10 - Not all men are wounded in the same place; and so you ought to know what part of you is weak, so you can give it the most protection.

15 - Do you ask what path leads to liberty? Any vein you please in your body. This is second of Seneca's two passages that look favorably upon suicide. I don't know if that is a Roman influence or a Stoic influence. I wonder why suicide has become so reprehensible to us today. I don't claim to be a theologist, but I do not know where religion's animosity to suicide comes from. 

26 - No good quotation sums up this chapter. Seneca argues that we should not be bothered by the intentions or judgement of those who have wronged us. I thought on this for a little while and at least for now I agree with him. We do not become angry with dogs or mules, for they lack judgement and act on instinct. But how much less can many people be said to act on instinct, in defiance of judgement? Perhaps even more existentialist, how much less can I be said to act on instinct and in defiance of judgement? Returning to practical ethics, I think this is a valuable idea to keep before me. Those who irritate me during the day are more than likely not doing so intentionally, but rather from a lack of education or right morals. And how much more can I blame them than a dog or an ass?

30 - On what humans are angered by. Also quite a prescient section. He examines how people are often disappointed by the relative value of what they got. But who can say I got less than I deserved, or if I deserved less than I got? I should think this runs quite well with Epictetus examination of why we should not be angry if we are not invited to dinner - for we have not paid the price of spending time with the host. It is, I do admit, overwhelmingly difficult to examine every interaction with others objectively, rather than subjectively.

41 - Let us grant to our soul that peace which will be provided by constant study of beneficial instruction, by noble actions, and a mind fixed on desire only for what is honorable.

Why do good things happen to bad people?

The first of Seneca's Dialogues and Essays was 'On Providence'. He is writing to a friend about why good things happen to bad men, and vice-versa.

I expected the quite Stoic approach to it, but I still found the argument more persuasive and well-conceived that I envsioned. Indeed, that's why I bought the book. The overriding viewpoint is that good events are not something to be desired. Much in the same way as we fatten animals to get more meat from them, a life of leisure is a detriment to us. A life of toil and labor hardens us, and prepares us for further hurdles.

But the writing left me with many questions. For one, Seneca seems to refer to an afterlife. He includes death as a hurdle men can overcome - but if death prepares us to better encounter something else, what else can that be? I am not very familiar with what Seneca's beliefs on the afterlife should be. Second, I wonder what he would say to advantages which can be given to a person, clearly of the positive variety, which do make a person stronger. I immediately think of having read that over the past hundred years or so, adults in developed countries have increased their average height considerably due to better nutrition and a more plentiful and steady food supply. Clearly this is a luxury, having such a well-developed food delivery network at our disposal, but it makes a person stronger and better able to conquer later challenges. I hope this point comes up in a later argument. Finally, Seneca is somewhat vague on how the universe is ordered. Stoics believed that there was a Deity who ordered the world, acting through Nature (much like Intelligent Design theory). In the beginning of Seneca's argument, men seem to be exposed to good or bad fortune as they are out of or in God's favor. This makes it seem like a conscious sorting on God's part, or assigning good and bad fortune to men based on their inherent qualities. Later on, it seems that God only chooses some of the things that happen to us, in order to 'prepare' us for those events that may occur later on, unforeseeable to us. And towards the end, it could be said that Seneca's writing indicates nothing at all is consciously chosen for us, merely that the universe tends to right itself. Perhaps a more cautious rereading later would answer these questions.

The very last part of the essay included a few potent observations on death. Speaking from God's perspective, "Above all I have taken care that no one may detain you against your will; the way out lies open: if you do not wish to fight, you may run away. That is why, out of all the things I judged necessary for you, I have made nothing easier than dying." How prescient! Life truly is like a game, some of us winning and others sitting and doing little. But in the end, losing the game, or rather ending it, is the simplest course of action. And as for abhorring our own death, Seneca advises us to be ashamed of being apprehensive of so short an event. A simple line, but powerful in reflection.

Reflections on Free Speech

Well, not so much the concept as much as how Spinoza addresses it in his final chapter of the Theological-Political Treatise. That's right! Finished the book. Now on to Seneca's Dialogues and Essays, before the next shipment of books comes in.

Chapter XX is on free speech and thought, and how it is necessary to a state. Much of the chapter is Machiavellian in nature. Sovereigns have the right to oppress and govern their people however they see fit, but practically this is unworkable. If even Moses had his detractors, it is clear that every sovereign will have theirs, no matter how pure or just. He approaches the subject other ways as well. For one, even if you can control man's speech, you can never control his thoughts. Though I suppose he never saw the modern communist state. And that free speech and thought contribute to advances in science. Finally, the oppression that may currently be in favor of a person can suddenly turn against them. These are all true statements, but my issue is this: he doesn't start from a priori values. Of course advances in science, political stability, and personal freedom are good things. Or, are they? I would venture that billions of people would disagree not only with Spinoza's method or conclusions, but even his base assumptions. I agree that all three of those things are desirous (well, put me down for half on personal freedoms), but the case needs to be made more clearly.

I found it interesting that he writes no man may wholly transfer his disposition to another, even in theory. You may submit to a contract, but never abdicate your right to think. I suppose this seems straightforward. In his next paragraph, however, he states that it is accepted that men's minds may be so controlled by another's that it could be said to be not his own. I don't see how those two statements can be mutually correct. With sufficient persuasive power over another, rendered more easy by years of indoctrination, I don't see how it could be said that that person retains their mental freedom. I would argue that a truly indoctrinated North Korean, or Soviet, or Chinese party official has lost their freedom of speech, in that they have been rigidly directed towards a beneficial (to the government) outcome.

But if this argument can be said, are we not all perhaps 'slaves' to others? I don't think anyone would argue that we are shaped by our environment. But to what extent does shaping become enslaving? If there is even one mental state that I may no longer experience due to the influence of those around me, am I any less enslaved than a North Korean? How can we measure the magnitude of lost thoughts and experiences?

Even more chilling: is a truly free thinker possible? Is such a man desirable? Could he be virtuous, or perhaps could he be evil?

Spices and European Exploration

Today's chapter in An Edible History of Humanity was a bit longer, a bit more specific in its span, and a whole lot more interesting than yesterday's. I don't for a second believe spices were the only reason for European expansion/exploration/colonization. I doubt it was even the dominant effect. But control of the spice trade was certainly important. Columbus cited spices as a main reason to sail West to the Indies, and repeatedly bolstered his claims of finding Asia with spurious discoveries of known spices. Later Spanish conquistadors, even after subduing advanced indigenous civilizations and taking away immense amounts of gold, decried their failure to find a source of spices.

Portugal initially explored Africa for non-spice reasons. But after accidentally passing the Cape of Good Hope, Portuguese sailors discovered it was possible to sail directly to India. Spices then became a dominant reason for future exploration. Later expeditions caused the discovery of Brazil, for which I have a soft spot, and expansion past India to various Pacific islands. The Muslim traders in the Indian sea were largely unarmed and unprepared for Portuguese warships. Hence, the Portuguese laid waste to maritime trade in the Indian Ocean in short order, thereby increasing their own control of spices as quickly as they were marginalizing Muslim control of them. The islands they colonized, such as the Moluccas, were the starting point for the Dutch East India Company, which from my US History classes had an important impact a couple centuries later. A dispute with England over their control of Run, a small island, was later resolved by trading it for an even smaller island - Manhattan. And the profits reaped by the Dutch East India Company, as well as Dutch expeditions, helped fund the Dutch golden age which led to, among other things, the artwork of the Dutch Masters being possible. I suppose I should be thankful that early Dutch advancement led to the modern, advanced Dutch state, which has produced perhaps as its finest export Robin van Persie. But I digress.

There was much mentioned in this chapter that I wish I knew more about. These include: the historic rise and fall of Venice, the merging of Spain and Portugal's crowns in 1580, the establishment of the British commonwealth not long after, and the general Portuguese-Muslim warfare in the Indian Ocean. I am sure each of these topics offers quite a bit for me to sink my teeth into.

As a parting (Parthian) shot, I did a bit of Portuguese work last night. I really need to stay on track with it and force it to become a habit. I think I am doing well, much better than with Russian anyway, and it shows promise if I can stick with it.

Vexillology

I found a new podcast today. How to Do Everything. Listened to an episode and a half as I ran, and I really like this one. It looks like it's updated weekly, so I'll have to remember to check back. The earliest episode I could find started off by discussing vexillology. Despite the objections of my Spellcheck, it is a word, meaning the study of flags. I love that there is a word for the study of flags. Unsurprisingly, this interests me. I wonder if there are any good books on the subject? There are at least a few good websites. The podcast discussions used South Sudan's new flag as an example, going through the symbolism and design of the flag. I would be interested in doing that for every nation, though time is not exactly plentiful these days.

In The History of Food, I covered the spice trade today. Some rather surprising things! The most surprising, I suppose, is that Arabic numerals actually originated in India. The spice trade arose between Arabia, India, and China as early as 3000 BC, but didn't spread to Europe (meaning active involvement of Europeans) until about 200 BC. Even then, Europe played only a minor role in trading. Trade was dominated by Arabs, which explain the spread of Islam to geographically isolated areas. The spice trade later resulted in opening up the world (nothing compared to today, though), which could be said to have caused the Black Death. A term which I learned was coined in the sixteenth century but only became popular recently. Additionally, the Black Death may not have been the bubonic plague at all - the issue is still debated. Come to think of it, one of the podcasts I skipped over was on virology... I wonder if they covered the Black Death at all (was it from bacteria or a virus?). Later, the monopolization of the spice trade by the Arabs lead to great price increases, which helped launch European expansion. I wonder if there are any modern allegories to the Arab control of oil... seems like deja vu to me.

Ancient Checks and Balances

Today, Spinoza served up a heavy dose of ancient Hebrew politics. I thought he wrote very clearly on this subject and I would like to reflect upon it.

He first defined theocracy. That the ancient Hebrew state was a pure theocracy, God being the head of state. I immediately thought of the modern famous theocracy - Iran. I don't know much about Iranian politics, but I would doubt they are a true theocracy. I don't believe the people have entered into a covenant with Allah, and sworn to serve him as devotees and citizens alike. I wonder just how different the two governments are.

But the meat of this section, as it pertains to this post at least, was on the political setup after Moses' death. The high priests alone could interpret God's word. However, they could only do it when the Generals of each of the 12 tribes requested it. And the tribes were never confederated - they acted as individuals, sometimes allying and sometimes fighting, but always as individual tribes. I suppose the Romans and earlier empires also had such checks and balances, but the Hebrews must have been the first to shrug off a despotic system.

The last part of the book covers why the first instance of the Hebrew state ended. It essentially boils down to people losing faith in the government. They wanted a seat at the table but couldn't have one, and so they ended up tearing the state apart from the inside. The way Spinoza addressed this issue was actually quite Machiavellian in terms of style.

Can a true theocracy ever exist? I don't think so. The opportunity for corruption is simply too obvious. This seems to be the case with many of the Middle Eastern countries. In principle there is nothing wrong with the idea. A pure theocracy would require active participation by God, leading the state and giving orders and laws. This seems unlikely. A modern theocracy could, however, simply be built around worship and right action. I see no reason why that couldn't work. If you could find an honest, righteous group of people to lead the government, that is.

I wonder if that supports Hobbes' notions of man's nature that good governments simply don't just develop. Good men just don't get that far. I can't see this being ingrained corruption either, because a really just man would endure whatever he had to to get his high position, and would then enact beneficial reforms. You just don't see that happening. Maybe it is true that power corrupts. Or maybe man is inherently evil, and it is only the exceptional man who can follow the straight and narrow.

What is treason?

Whatever his reason be for acting, the crime is treason. - Spinoza

I had to read over this particular atomic argument again. He makes the case that a man commits treason when he tries to usurp sovereignty after he has already forfeited his rights to another, namely the state. More concretely, a man who has entered into a covenant and become part of society no longer has the right to make the decisions (unless he were the sovereign, of course). This is all very Hobbesian, and Spinoza actually seems to have very similar political views (except he is not nearly so pessimistic on human nature). A man who thus is a citizen of a state is treasonous if he tries to take that state's power for himself.

A few seconds' contemplation will confirm the usual definition of treason. A soldier who gives up his army's position or intentions is clearly trying to usurp the power of making strategic and diplomatic decisions. He is rightfully called a traitor (I wonder if that word comes from the same root as treason...). However, Spinoza then goes out to argue that even the positive act can be a treasonous. A vigilante soldier who defies his commander and advances alone to kill the enemy is also a traitor - he too wants to usurp power from his generals and government officials.

I suppose here the ambiguity of language certainly plays a part. I see where Spinoza is going with his argument. The well-intentioned misbehavior is just as detrimental to order as the badly-intentioned misbehavior - perhaps even moreso. As a military officer, I truly agree that both types of insubordination have negative consequences. However I'm not sure you would call the well-meaning man treasonous. Treason has a certain definition, and it doesn't necessarily just mean insubordinate. I associate nuance with the word. Miriam-Webster defines treason as 1. betrayal of trust, but 2. the overt act of trying to overthrow a government. I would argue that most (English-speaking) people associate treason with negative betrayal.

But I suppose this is a semantic argument at beast. The treatise wasn't written in English, and ideas do get muddled in translation.

And after some research - yes, traitor and treason share a root in the Latin 'traditor'.

Children's music these days...

This past week's religious service was a family service, which means there is a lot of singing and lower-level prayer aimed towards younger children. I'll save my utter disagreement with conducting services this way for another post - what I wanted to write about was part of a 'children's song' they sang. Here's the chorus:

And the seasons, they go 'round and 'round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captured on a carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came
And go 'round and 'round and 'round in the circle game


How terribly fatalist! I thought this was utterly depressing and anything but proper children's music. That middle line - 'captured on a carousel'. What kind of imagery does that convey? I suppose time inexorably marching on is one of life's great equalizers, but it doesn't make me any more joyful to hear about it.

Should be a Spinoza-themed post coming up.

Can values be objective?

A thing is called sacred and Divine when it is designed for promoting piety, and continues sacred so long as it is religiously used: if the users cease to be pious, the thing ceases to be sacred: if it be turned to base uses, that which was formerly sacred becomes unclean and profane. - Spinoza, Theologico-Political Treatise, Chapter XII.

It's pretty obvious Spinoza was talking about religion here. I'll leave that commentary to more learned men (or at least myself at another time). But this passage made me reflect on what any object's meaning really is. Specifically, the value we attach to things. Is not all value just ephemeral? Can any value truly, truly be objective? If you extrapolate this out somewhat, values are types of adjectives in the sense that squares are types of shapes. Well, is there such thing as an objective adjective? I suppose you'd have to really reach towards solipsism to answer that affirmatively, but it's thought provoking. I wonder to what extent adjectives, and returning to my original argument, values can be objective. That is, permanent and part of the object.

I immensely value some of my things, and act rather carelessly towards others. This I suppose could be an externalization of my valuation of those things, similar to how Spinoza values some religious objects above others, based on how they are currently used. It seems wrong to think of my values and valued objects as only thoughts, temporary thoughts. I value my car, for instance, and my computer and my books and my video games. Are they only valuable so far as I derive happiness from them? Seems like an easily answerable 'yes', but not so fast. You could certainly say my books are valuable even beyond the value they bring to me. Hence, is there a universal approach I am missing? I feel as though these questions have already been addressed in previous readings, but I have been to boneheaded to realize it, or at least to internalize it.

I am now reading a very promising book on how food shaped world history. Only up through the second chapter, but it's very potent stuff. One of the seemingly more minor details was that carrots were originally white and purple - only in the sixteenth century did Dutch horticulturists produce an orange version, which stuck. I couldn't care less what color my carrots are, but this is interesting stuff. How many other 'natural' foods are anything but? Corn and wheat have also been addressed in this book, along with rice to an extent. But other produce? Meat? I wonder what it would have been like to eat a hamburger made a few millenia ago. Or what a salad would have tasted like. These are probably very first-world suburban questions, but that's life.

I'll close with another gem from Spinoza. It being the object of the Bible to make men not learned, but obedient.