Stoic Determinism 3

The collection of primary sources regarding 'moral responsibility' once again triggered anguish over determinism. Chrysippus favored complete determinism, encompassing even attitudes and impressions - this view became the party line after a few generations. The question that this early Stoic debate piques is about partial determinism. Is such a system possible? In a completely determined world, I would agree that there cannot be moral responsibility. To borrow from a recent Dinosaur Comic, a completely undetermined (random) world would also lack moral responsibility. Hence, only a partially determined world can have morality.

But is such a thing possible? The only way I can see this possibility arising is if consciousness is not deterministic. Does human consciousness violate the laws of the science, of the universe? Can there be results without antecedent causes? I have a hard time grasping the possibility of this, but I concede it could be. Only if this is true can morality have any meaning.

Chrysippus argued, "The result is that neither commendations nor reproofs, nor honors nor punishments are just." I do disagree with this, however, even if moral responsibility is nonexistent. I say this because incentives are a method by which fate can work. The existence of incentives change the calculus of decisions ex ante. Even in a fully determined world, then, punishment must exist. For even if the world proceeds according to preset laws, like a ticking watch, the structure of incentives is then like the cogs of the watch - affecting how it operates.

The necessity of incentives in any system does beg the question - is such an incentive just? Is it just to punish a criminal if he was 'fated' to have committed the crime? Overlooking the fact that punishment was necessary to dissuade untold numbers of other would-be criminals, is it right to punish the actual criminal? Does the appearance of freedom of action make positive or negative incentives right? These are not easy questions.

Diogenes Laertius writes, "The story goes that Zeno was flogging a slave for stealing. 'I was fated to steal', said the slave. 'And to be flogged', was Zeno's reply."

On Studying Military History

I've never really been interested in military history. It's not that the subject matter itself isn't interesting, it's more that I haven't ever seen the utility of such studies. I do enjoy history, so of course military history has always been interesting as far as that goes. But as it pertains to my career - would a business executive derive much from reading business history?

I've lately been reading The Ghosts of Cannae, by Robert L. O'Connell. Besides presenting an interesting and well-written look at the Second Punic War, specifically the battle at Cannae, and also driving home to me how to pronounce the Latin -ae, the book has also made me a bit more interested in reading more military history. The attention paid to the personal virtues and vices of the major players in the war, as well as their individual decisions on the battlefield, presents many similarities to those I might see today.

I realize enormous land battles share few common aspects with modern submarine warfare. Hannibal's troop positioning at Cannae will undoubtedly contribute nothing to my own tactical competence. But a careful study of why and how he arrived at those decisions might. Examining his thought process, his education, and his personality would certainly be a useful endeavor. 

Cultural Consumption

I have noticed that no philosophy, to my knowledge, places much importance in embracing humanity. I don't mean acknowledging rights, but rather immersing oneself in the tapestry of mankind. I think this could easily be extended to, or derived from, a devotion to study of natural philosophy. Human achievements are as much a part of the world at present as volcanoes are - why do they warrant any less enthusiastic study?

Since my senior year in college, I have been returning to classical, and sometimes just important, fiction. I read the Odyssey, and the Shahnameh, and The Gallic Wars. Perhaps a few others. Graduation put a small stop to it, but I've returned recently. Yet, I wonder why I read these works of fiction. I believe there is some truth in everything, something to be gained in everything. But admittedly, fiction isn't the most efficient road to self-achievement. I could be racing through philosophy books, and perhaps even writing my own. I could develop expertise in a subject or two. But I don't.

I feel as though classical fiction, the stories that have been in print for hundreds or thousands of years, shape our consciousness. They are a handbook to being a person, to existing as people do. It's similar to reading anthropological studies or histories; a difference of degree, not of kind. Philosophy seems to have overlooked this important duty - to not only act correctly, and study correctly, but know what oneself is. To be conscious of the framework around us, which produces and sustains us.

The last few weeks have seen me complete, in order, Bouvard and Pecuchet by Flaubert, Brave New World by Huxley, A Room With A View by Forster, and currently Dune by Herbert. Each of these books is different and offers a new insight into how people should, or at least do, act. A new perspective. The consumption of culture is my name for it, and I mean it positively.

I read these books with the cognizance that care must be kept not to stray, or justify wastes of time. I can't claim I don't watch worthless TV shows or read snuff sometimes, but there must be a distinction between why The Odyssey is a cultural achievement, and why The Simpsons is not. I admit that must development is called for along this line of thinking.

Stoic Determinism 2

Origen, On Principles - "Ensouled things are moved 'by' themselves when an impression occurs within them which calls forth an impulse . . . A rational animal, however, in addition to its impressionistic nature, has reason which passes judgment on impressions, rejecting some of these and accepting others, in order that the animal may be guided accordingly."

Alexander, On Aristotle's Prior Analytics - "They hold that after the conflagration all the same things recur in the world numerically, so that even the same peculiarly qualified individual as before exists and comes to be again in that world, as Chrysippus says."

One of these things is not like the other. Men are rational, and can decide whether or not to assent to impressions. At the very least, we can choose the impulse that is derived from an impression. Yet, somehow, the eternal recurrence of the universe will produce the exact same situation, infinitely. If a given set of starting points produces identical intermediate points, then obviously the decision has been taken out of man's hands. Our 'reason' is no more than a complex set of instincts and natural programming - far to complex for us to understand, but necessarily obedient to a higher order, a mathematical explanation. Perhaps the Stoics themselves were unaware of how deterministic some of their beliefs were.

On Indivisibility

The chapter on 'continuum' in Stoic thought brought up many interesting paradoxes. I should note that the Stoics rejected the atomism of Epicureans - that the physical world consisted of indivisible quanta, the building blocks of everything. To a certain extent the Epicureans were vindicated by modern science. But the Stoic continuum, if only applied conceptually, still raises important questions.

Which contains more parts, a body or a finger? The simple answer is the body, for it comprises ten fingers plus much more. But a finger contains infinitely many parts. Even considering the modern scientific understand, a finger can still be conceptually divided into infinitely many parts. The body can be likewise divided. So then, a body and a finger have the same number of parts. Or at least, they are both comprised of infinitely many parts. Obviously this conflicts with our empirical understanding of both things.

What is a limit? The Stoics held it was incorporeal, a mere construct of the mind. The Epicureans were free to envision it as the boundary between atoms, a plane dividing the atoms of one thing from the atoms of another. The importance of this argument is somewhat different today. Take the smallest, most indivisible thing we can postulate. To my knowledge, this would be the single string in string theory; it is the smallest thing that can exist, and nothing can occur at any length shorter than the string's length, for the string has no parts which may interact. Yet, how can a string border another string? Obviously, a whole cannot border a whole. Conceptually it is obvious that a part of the string must border a part of a second string. But how can this be if both are indivisible?

Take a cone and cut it horizontally. Examine the two new surfaces you have created, the upper and lower surfaces that define your cut. Are they equal in magnitude? For if they are, when does the cone change its breadth? If they are not equal in magnitude, the cone was never continuous, but was only planes of material stacked atop one another. The modern understanding of atoms has effectively nullified this argument, but I haven't thought of this before.

Finally, a corollary to Zeno's famous distance paradox. It is clear that when a runner completes a lap around the track, he cannot have run the distance at once. It is obvious to us that it was broken into divisions - one foot was completed, then another, and so on until the lap was completed. But why only divide to a foot? For any distance, however small, can be divided infinitely. First the first inch of the track must be traversed. But wait, now the first micrometer of the track must be traversed. But how can the runner travel even one micrometer, if he has not completed the first half-micrometer? And so on. All motion, conceptually, is hindered by an infinite regression of ever-smaller first distances. When I was studying aeronautics in college, I once had to write a basic computer program which used differential equations. For velocity to increase from zero, acceleration must be infinite - any change from zero to a nonzero number involves an infinite rate of change over a short enough time scale. We of course used constants and workarounds to make the program work - but how does nature really work? For infinite acceleration cannot occur. But if acceleration were to suddenly increase from zero to non-zero, then the derivative of acceleration would be infinite. This, too, is infinitely regressive.

It is a wonder physics works at all.

The Limit of the Universe

Stoic dogma holds that location can be divided into two categories - 'place' and 'void'. It is a bit more nuanced than that, but that distinction suffices. Place is finite and is the three-dimensional space in which matter subsists. Void is also three-dimensional, but infinite, and by definition contains nothing. The world, which for Stoics was everything, exists in 'place'. Outside of the world is an infinite void, within which there is nothing.

Obviously, astronomy has revealed the existence of matter outside of the world. I consider the Stoic view to be somewhat strange even for their time, as they must have realized the sun and stars existed far away from the world. But, I didn't live back then, so who knows. In any case, we are still presented with the same dilemma today, only in the location of the boundary has been pushed back. The accepted theory of the cosmos is that the Big Bang occurred 13 billions years ago and change, and the universe has been expanding ever since. But, what exists outside that ever-expanding wave of the first bits of matter? More to the point - what is the universe  expanding into? The Stoics conceived of a philosophical quandary that is still unresolved more than two thousand years later. For that, they deserve some credit.

Stoic Principles of Matter

The Stoics split the universe into the 'whole', consisting of the physical world we live on, and 'void', an infinite expanse outside of our world. The two of them collectively comprised the 'all'. The known world was then divided into matter and logos, or God. The Stoic god was conceived as a characteristic of matter common to all matter - it is what makes matter peculiarly qualified. This is a roundabout manner of explaining how substance can be peculiarly qualified, and why all matter is peculiarly qualified. Note that Calcidius, who I haven't heard of it, confirms my belief that no bit of matter could possibly be without peculiar characteristics - such is the result of the twinning of matter and logos.

Sextus Empiricus makes an interesting side argument, however. Matter can be either self-moving, or moved by another power. The basis for scientific thought is that all actions have causes - all matter is moved by another power. Since imagining a universe that solely consists of passive matter would lead to an endless regression of higher order causes, there must be a power which is self-moving. If that self-moving power were of a finite length of time, some higher order power must cause it to start. Hence, "the power which moves matter and guides it in due order into generations and changes is everlasting. So this power would be [G]od."

On Knowledge

The Stoic theory of knowledge builds directly on their epistemology, but I find it better conceived and more complete. As Zeno pantomimed many thousands of years ago, the states of knowledge can be traced with two hands. An open palm is an impression. A loosely held fist is assent. A tight fist is cognition, or katalepsis. Finally, a second hand wrapped around a tight fist is scientific knowledge – episteme.

There is also opinion, doxa. Reading that, by the way, cleared up a longstanding question of mine about what ‘doxography’ was. Anyway, opinion according to Sextus Empiricus was weak and false assent. Plutarch, however, held that opinion was assent to the incognitive. It seems the latter is the prevailing Stoic view. The Stoic sage would never opine on anything, for all opinion was false and blameworthy. According to Arcesilaus, then, the Stoic sage must necessarily always suspend judgment, lest he opine. I suppose that’s too lofty of a goal, but not a bad one. A person is right to suspend judgment until he can be sure of his impressions – since one can never be sure, judgment should necessarily always be suspended.

The inferior man, which includes everybody due to the impossibility of becoming a true sage, is always ignorant. Even his assent to true cognitive impressions is ignorance. Since the Stoics typically framed their beliefs in dichotomies, there is no middle ground between the sage’s excellence and the inferior man’s ignorance. Assent to true cognitive impressions comprises scientific knowledge for the sage because he, to use Long and Sedley’s words, has freed himself from “all doubt, uncertainty, falsehood, and instability from his cognitive state”.

Of course, to prevent realizing the futility of man’s quest, one must partially reject the dichotomy of knowledge and strive for a more complete grasp of episteme. Otherwise, why even try at all? Hence, a modern day Stoic handbook should perhaps allow deviations from the scripture, identifying a series of ‘intermediate’ states of knowledge, much like the ‘preferred’ and ‘non-preferred’ neutral objectives in Stoic ethics.

On Sensation and Truth

At the heart of epistemology is the debate between empiricism and rationalism. Can we discover truths just by sensing them, with our eyes and ears? Or must truths come from our minds, from careful reasoning? Perhaps Descartes is correct - the only truth is that I exist, in some form or another.

Of course the Greeks got in on the debate, but I was surprised by the Stoics' open embrace of pure empiricism. According to essentially every Stoic philosopher, all things are peculiarly qualified and can, as such, give a 'cognitive impression'. That is, an impression which is completely distinct; one can 'grasp' the impression and know its truth. I can't agree to this. I do believe that there are things which are so identical to one another than they absolutely cannot be positively identified. What would the Stoics say of individual atoms, which are absolutely homogenous, if only with today's technology. They claim that twins and identical eggs and other such dualities known to them can be identified 'with sufficient effort and expertise'. Yet, the human senses are limited to certain resolutions and accuracies - it is therefore possible that the subtleties between two objectively different things will be below the threshold detectable by a human.

Impressions are of two sorts, at the most basic level - true impressions, and false impressions (figments). The Academics brought up continuously the fact that there will never be a true impression that cannot be imitated exactly by a false one. The Stoics defended themselves by adding clauses, essentially, to their criteria for truth. A true impression must also concur with preconceptions, then. However, preconceptions are created through experience.... hence, the argument is ultimately redundant.

Diogenes Laertius relates an example: Ptolemy Philopator placed before a philosopher named Sphaerus some wax pomegranates. When Sphaerus was tricked into believing they were real, Ptolemy rejoiced, as he had proved the Academics' argument. However, Sphaerus claimed he had not assented to the true impression they were pomegranates, but rather assented to the impression that it was reasonable that they were pomegranates.

Perhaps Sphaerus truly believed in the distinction between the two impressions. I think most people, however, desire objective truth, not a recognizance of the possibility of truth. How can we make conclusions about the world if we are only recognizing that the world 'possibly' works in this way? No, objective truth is needed, and the Stoics never did identify an objectively acceptable way of sorting truth from fiction. When specific examples were used to illustrate the fallacy of sense-data, they claimed that the individuals in question were not acting 'under normal circumstances', meaning the Stoics did not agree they were acting as rational actors. Perhaps this is reminiscent of the Stoic sage archetype. In Stoic ethics, the sage is a perfect human, but realistically unattainable. That is acceptable as a goal or role model. However, in epistemology, having an unattainable state of existence being the only one capable of discerning truth is NOT acceptable. If I'm going to believe in the objective truth of sense-data, it's not going to be because of the Stoics.

On Redundancy and Determinism

Sextus Empiricus claims that arguments are invalid if they are redundant. The example he uses, the premise 'if it is day, it is light' is such a redundancy, though I will overlook my disagreement with even that basic premise. Such a premise, in which the conditions follows directly and obviously from the antecedent, is 'invalid'. This backs Stoic logic into a corner, in my view. Empiricus admits this. If a premise is true, then the conditional can be directly deduced, and so it is invalid. If, on the other hand, the premise is false, than it will certainly be invalid as well. How then, can arguments proceed?

The prevailing attitude of the Stoics towards Sophist arguments was to ignore them. Arguments like the Sorites argument, or Little-by-Little argument. A good example is asking how many grains of corn make a heap of corn. By increasing the number of grains one by one, the addressee must eventually choose a number of grains which makes a heap of grain a heap - however, having picked a number, if that amount of grains is reduced by one then the heap should no longer exist. This is a thought-provoking argument, if rather useless, but the Stoics tend to minimize and ostracize the Sophists. It seems to me such an argument is good food for thought and a good mental exercise, and shouldn't be rejected out of hand.

Diodorus and Chrysippus were also engaged in a long argument, essentially about whether a thing can be possible if it never occurs. I think this is fascinating. If something doesn't occur, was it ever really possible? Likewise, if something occurs, was it not a necessity? For an example, I reach to my own history. Was it ever possible for me to attend Harvard? Conventionally, I would say yes. I have enough raw intelligence that I could have exerted myself sufficiently to be accepted there. In a sense, that future was possible. But in a more literal sense, it was never a possibility. As events in my life have borne out, I was not interested in academics until high school. Even then I came nowhere close to exerting myself. In that sense, then, attending Harvard was never a possibility. Sure, qualifying circumstances would change the truth of that statement - IF my past was different, THEN I could have attended. But that restructures the proposition. As Chrysippus noted, however, this outlook tends to remove moral responsibility from the actor. Let's say I cheated on a test in high school, which I did more than once. Sure, I accept responsibility for that. But on the other hand, the confluence of academic pressure, peer pressure, and the course of events to that point made my actions a necessity. To not cheat was possible, but never a possibility. 


Yet, the Stoics anguished over holding on to moral responsibility in the face of this argument. I cannot reject such responsibility, even though I agree with the conflicting theory of relative determinism. Obviously, I don't claim the two are compatible.

Chrysippus' argument: "If there is motion without cause, not every proposition will be either true or false, since anything lacking efficient causes will be neither true nor false. But every proposition is either true or false. Therefore there is no motion without a cause. If this is so, everything that happens happens through antecedent causes - in which case, everything happens through fate. The result is that everything that happens happens through fate."

Stoic Language

The Stoics loved definitions. But, not the way Hobbes (and I) do. Rather, Stoic definitions apply more to concepts and things than words. A proper Stoic definition involves identifying the genus of a concept, and then that which differentiates it from the other 'species' of the genus. In this vein, man can be defined as a rational (differentiating element) animal (genus). I'll be honest - I don't know how much this contributes to clear discourse. Developing a framework within which physics can be analyzed is one thing. But to attempt to break down much hairier concepts into concrete niches... well, I think that would fare no better than classifying animals has under the current taxonomic system. Like animals, concepts are too interrelated and too subjective. Corralling them into neat definitions misses a lot of what makes them 'peculiarly qualified'. 

On Dialectic

I was somewhat surprised to learn of the emphasis Stoics placed on dialectic and rhetoric. I had thought even dialectic was relatively unimportant to them, to say nothing of rhetoric. Yet, Diogenes Laertius claims early Stoics valued them both, and texts by Zeno, Chrysippus, and Epictetus partially support this notion. I was quite pleased then, since I recognize the value of dialectic, to see the Stoics attached several virtues to the science of logic and discourse. Non-precipitancy, uncarelessness, irrefutability, and non-randomness.

Zeno of Citium valued both divisions of logic. Dialectic was 'the closed fist' - clarity and brevity. Rhetoric was 'the outstretched hand' - breadth of argument and ability. Chrysippus, naturally, valued them both as well. It seems later Stoics eased off on their support for rhetoric. Certainly it is a useful skill to have, but not essential. Dialectic, however, as far as it comprises definitions and logical analysis is of great necessity to even an amateur philosopher.

I'll end with a strange view on arguments by Zeno. When told not to pass judgement until both sides had spoken, Zeno replied, "The second speaker must not be heard, whether the first speaker proved his case (for the inquiry is then finished) or did not prove it (for that is just like his not having complied when summoned, or his having complied by talking nonsense). But either he proved his case or he did not prove it. Therefore the second speaker must not be heard." I can honestly say I have never heard this take on discourse before, but perhaps there is something to it.

Stoic Ontology 3

And so we arrive at the end of Stoic ontology. The third and fourth genera - disposed and relatively disposed. Perhaps I have a flawed understanding, which itself is understandable considering the dearth of extant texts, but to me these seem to indicate qualities of a substance. Not necessarily an identity, as that is what qualified is, but rather characteristics. Disposed substance has intrinsic characteristics, like weight and density. Relatively disposed substance has characteristics which can change as a result of changes external to that substance. The oft-cited Greek example is that of two men standing together, the 'man on the right' loses that characteristic if his neighbor moves, despite the fact that the first man did nothing.

Stoics seemed to have put most characteristics, however, in the second and third genera. They acknowledged that properties like sweetness and bitterness were experienced differently among people, yet still maintained they were dispositions and not relative. I disagree, and it is comforting to know Carneades did as well. In the Greek skepticism vein (NOT the modern skepticism), I would say there are very few qualities that can be said to be 'intrinsic', beyond of course mass and density. And any quality that is not intrinsic, cannot be said to identify someone - therefore, the vast majority of transitive characteristics can only be placed in the fourth genus. Chrysippus and Aristo once argued about where virtue and knowledge were to be placed. That is a question to ponder, to be sure.

Finally, we arrive at universals. The Stoics had a much more sensible view than Plato did on the subject. Thinking of a universal idea such as 'man' produces a conception in our mind of what 'man' is - the concept that results is the universal 'man'. Hence, such a concept is transitory, non-existent, and perhaps most importantly, subjective. A universal does not predate any specific example of it, as Platonic universals do, and for that matter is not really bound to a specific example at all. The trouble with this argument is when individuals confuse their universals - what if when one person thought of 'man', another thought of 'horse'. When discourse is subjective in this manner, philosophy is no easy task.

Stoic Ontology 2

The Stoics divide subsistence into incorporeals, bodies, and 'neither', as I mentioned in the last post. Body is then split into four genera, the first two of which are 'substance' and 'qualified individuals'. It makes for a confusing division of matter, and it seems mighty problematic to me.

Substance is any and all matter. It might be better defined as 'substrate'. Matter without characteristics or definition. Qualified individuals are collections of substance that do have characteristics and definition. Here, the category must split into species - peculiarly qualified individuals and commonly qualified individuals. To be commonly qualified means a lump of matter has a 'common' identity - that of a chair, or table, or man. To be peculiarly qualified means, effectively, a proper noun - Socrates, for instance.

Well, first of all, this assumes the existence of ideals. Which reminds me to bone up on my Plato, but I digress. How can a given lump of matter be commonly qualified as a chair if there is no ideal chair? What is to prevent that lump from being merely a chair-shaped rock? Or an extremely uncomfortable and short bed? Immediately, the Stoic convention on body becomes subjective, which in my mind is unacceptable. Secondly, why can some things be commonly qualified, and others not? The extant Stoic texts seem to indicate that a 'lump of matter' wasn't good enough - it had no identity. But does a lump not have an identity? Of course it does - that of being a lump. It has a shape, and chemical composition, and size, etc. Where is the boundary between those collections of matter with common qualifications, and those without? I realize the Stoics partially defined 'quality' as coming from the pneuma or breath that flowed through everything, but that still seems like an awfully subjective system of definitions.

Lastly, Philo describes a dialectical argument made by Chrysippus in which two men are identical in every way - except one is missing a foot and the other is not. The two-footed man then loses his. Somehow, the ultimate conclusion of the argument is that the first man ceases to exist, as a man can't lose what he never had. I have to admit I don't understand the reasoning behind Chrysippus' reply to the Academics' Growing Argument. If the Stoics claim that two peculiarly qualified individuals may not occupy the same matter, then fine. But then, Dion and Theon cannot be identical. Even if they are 'congruent', to use an old geometry term, their substance still varies by virtue of its location, or even its time. I agree with Chrysippus that two peculiarly qualified bodies may not occupy one substrate, but I why that proves his argument. Perhaps a better question - can one peculiarly qualified body occupy two identical collections of substance?

Stoic Ontology

Ah, back to Stoicism! I have only read the first few chapters, but it is as refreshing as I imagined.

The philosophical curriculum - Stoicism is divided into three parts: logic, physics, and ethics. Most Stoics put them in that order of precedence, not necessarily in the order of importance, but rather in the recommended course of study. I disagree somewhat with the order of the last two, but logic at the fore is indisputable. The many subsets of philosophy fit in to one or more of those departments. I took issue with Seneca referring to philosophy as the only 'pure' undertaking; he labelled mathematics as requiring hypotheses. I disagree - I would call them both pure, though mathematics could be seen as the purest form of physical or natural philosophy. Finally, I was very confused with Stobaeus' remarks on the value of 'pursuits', or intellectual activities and values that are not virtue. These include literature and music, which he claims are valuable assets of the Stoic sage. I am not sure how or why they are valued as such.

Existence - Everything subsists. That is, anything which is 'something' can be said to 'be'. However, not everything exists. Only corporeals exist. This is important, because Stoics separated the spectrum of everything (something) into incorporeals, body, and neither. There are only four incorporeals, but I would include many more if I was rewriting this section. I will wait to see how the Stoics develop their argument, though.

Epicurean Philosophy

"Epicurus used to say that philosophy is an activity which by arguments and discussions brings about the happy life." - Sextus Empiricus

No, this isn't a summary of Epicurean philosophy as a whole. Rather, it is a reflection on Epicurean views on philosophy and philosophizing. Epicurus favored a lifelong study of philosophy, stating, "no one is underage or overage for health of the soul." Philosophy is the most desirable intellectual pursuit, while the study of culture (in his day, mathematics and rhetoric) is pointless. Natural philosophy is important as well, but only because we have a human desire to know those things; if we were perfectly at peace with ourselves, ignorance of the world would not be a problem.

Of course I disagree that any subject at all is not worth studying. Some are certainly more important, granted, but all information and learning is inherently at least somewhat valuable. Mathematics and rhetoric, as well as the modern-day definition of culture, are very worthwhile things. I think many people would agree with me that part of a person's purpose in life is to be a human being, to experience the human condition. Consuming culture is a part of that. Natural philosophy is important in much the same way.

On the question of who should study philosophy, however, I have no answer. I am of two minds. One tells me that every person that can reason should be exposed to philosophy. It is the most important intellectual pursuit a person can have. Without philosophy, we have no purpose, or at least not one that we know and recognize. However, the other side of the argument is that philosophy can be powerful or daunting in the hands of those who cannot yet understand it. Perhaps a healthy background in rhetoric, literature, and worldly experience is necessary to piece together the truths and untruths of philosophy. How could I understand philosophy if I had not experienced what I have? Could I have read these words when I was much younger and still understood them? I also cannot put out of my mind the impressionability of young minds. This is not a question that demands an answer, but it is an intriguing one.

Epicurean Death

"Against other things it is possible to obtain security. But when it comes to death we human beings all live in an unwalled city." - Epicurus

I don't like Epicurean ethics. They're well put together, but the hedonist core of that philosophy seems morally reprehensible. I suppose there's no good objective argument to self-fulfillment, so I won't go down that road. There are contradictions in the philosophy, however, and the most recent chapter illustrates that.

Epicurus valued friendship, declaring that not only did such a relationship contribute to pleasure, but that is should be uniquely valued as producing a special sort of happiness. It is equally clear that later followers of Epicurus agreed with his stance, though his critics pointed out the obvious contradiction with an egocentric philosophy. Nonetheless, Epicurus's view on death is that it is a welcome respite from the aggravation of living. Death is the cessation of both pleasure and pain - it should not be feared. Yet, if friendship is a value, why should we not value life for the opportunity it gives us to provide friendship to others? The main argument for Epicureanism is that a life lived well is defined independently of duration. A man who enjoys his life has lived a good one, whether it be 30 years long or 70. But those 40 extra years could provide a young man an entirely lifetime of happiness through finding an enlightened friend - how can that not be thought of as a good? I realize Epicurus was not concerned with the good beyond oneself, but this oversight seems glaring.

Another point - Lucretius, an Epicurean, declares that living to prolong one's life is a bad decision. He ranks living in moderation as equal to denying oneself pleasures, and thus in the Epicurean tradition, refusing to live a 'complete' life. His claim can easily be reduced to absurd conclusions. Would he look favorably upon a child who lives the best life he can - and dies before his tenth birthday due to bad habits? For instance, immunizations cause us pain when we get them, but for an inestimable benefit later. Would Lucretius have opposed vaccinations? On the other side of the spectrum, what of an elderly man who spends a week every year at the doctor's office so he can live an additional twenty years. Surely giving up a week of your time to waiting is no Epicurean good - but twenty extra years? I have a feeling Epicureans would favor the first scenario but oppose the second, but I see them in much the same light.

This all being said, there were many positive, thought-provoking comments sprinkled throughout this penultimate Epicurean chapter. "Here on earth, the life of the foolish becomes hell." - Lucretius

Epicurean Paradoxes

Epicurus was a very smart guy. I am only two short chapters into Epicurean physics, based largely on a few extant paragraphs from Epicurus and Lucretius. In a few short minutes, I have been presented with two seemingly intractable paradoxes.

Epicurus, one in a long line of Greek philosophers with the same beliefs, held that matter could not be created or destroyed. Matter did not come from nothing, and could not be destroyed into nothing. Anything that is, is tangible and has a size and weight. In this light, I wonder what a thought it. For, clearly it changes the person who receives it; it adds something to a person. Yet, it is created ex nihilo; from nothing. Likewise, it returns to nothing. Furthermore, a thought is weightless and has no size - how then, can it be added to a person and produce an observable change? If something with no size or weight is added, then nothing is added - but anecdotally, this cannot be so! I have tried approaching thoughts as a particular combination of electrons and synaptic connections, but even then, the paradox remains. For a thought may be transmitted to a person with no physical communication, by body language or even intuition. How then, can the addition of nothing produce a different sum?

The second paradox involves voids and bodies. Epicurus held that bodies were made of matter, and voids the lack thereof. Modern science jibes with him - there are atoms, and the inconceivable empty space between atoms. This empty space, then, is a void. So, what happens when a body moves? It enters the void, but the void is not displaced. The void must then be coexistent with the body. How can this be so? How can nothing dissolve into nothing, or be created from nothing? Where does the empty space go, and how can it coexist with a body? Furthermore, what can modern quantum mechanics say on this subject, when seemingly empty spaces can give rise to pairs of particles?

Pyrrhonism

Back on the horse! I'm wading through The Hellenistic Philosophers, as I wasn't ready to take on Becker's A New Stoicism yet. The book starts off with Pyrrhonism, which I can't say I knew anything about before reading.

The lack of primary sources is quite simply depressing. That so many of the original texts are no longer exigent is a blight upon civilization. I maintain hope that somewhere, in a dusty mausoleum or cave, thousands and thousands of those texts survive. But anyway. Pyrrhonism is essentially disdain for desire. Pyrrho believed that everything, excluding virtue, was merely an extension of human habits and beliefs.

Pyrrhonist ethics thus resemble Stoicism somewhat, but takes things a bit further. 'Equability' is the target, to live free of disturbances. This translates to drifting aimlessly, never choosing and never desiring. Nothing is better than anything else. Some of the secondary texts, comments on Pyrrhonism by later writers, seem to indicate Pyrrho valued virtue and despised vice, however. At the very least, this extends to his 'scribe', Timon, much in the same vein that Socrates never wrote any of his work down.

So, I can't really agree with Pyrrhonist ethics. Virtue is certainly desirable, and vice is undesirable. I think the Stoics have that all figured out - there is the desirable and the undesirable. Some things in between are preferred - or maybe they are not, that is one of the major Stoic debates. Pyrrho's physical philosophy is much easier to disagree with, though a useful thought exercise. He maintains that nothing in the world is factual. Not, and this is important, that nothing can be known with certainty. No, Pyrrho claims there is no actual physical truth to things, that what we know about the world is human consensus instead. This is irreconcilable with modern science; it would be too much of a stretch to buy into this. Still, in a Descartes-inspired way, denying the truth in things is useful for philosophizing.

The Return

After a long hiatus, I am returning to learning and mental exploration. My quest is opposed by a new video game, but reading this afternoon felt great, so hopefully productivity wins out.

I return where I left off to Bentham, and am also beginning to learn Italian. I needed a change of pace, and Italian just might be it. I am also trying to be more vigilant with my educational podcasts, and even add a couple new ones if I find anything. I have little to do for the next two months, so I might as well make them count.

Bentham and Utilitarianism 3

In Chapter Five, Bentham enumerates the types of simple pleasure and pains, roughly 15 types of each. I like his list, which for example, includes the pleasures of piety and of benevolence, and the pains of malevolence. However, the omission of pleasures of the intellect, and pleasures of character are jarring. Pleasures of the intellect, I take to mean, include learning more about the world and how it operates; being able to accurately identify things external to us, which is, in a sense, exploration. Pleasures of character would include the cultivation of virtue and personal ethics. For that matter, morality and ethics were nowhere to be found in Bentham's list. There is no indication that they were subsumed under pleasures/pains of religion (piety), either.

Chapter Six is a list of the various extenuating circumstances that alter a person's sensitivity to the causes of pleasure and pain. I realize that Bentham disclaimed the chapter in an endnote, declaring that to undertake such a pursuit in its entirety would take too much time and effort. But what he does write does not even approach the truth. For instance, he declares that poor health and physical deformities make a person less sensitive to the causes of pleasure, and more sensitive to the causes of pain. In my experience, this is completely opposite the truth. A man in a hospital will often be made happy by causes that would ordinarily be lost on him. And further pains often have little effect on such a man - perhaps his tolerance for pain is 'saturated'. I do not claim to have undertaken similar study on the matter, but Bentham makes a number of disagreeable assertions in what I have read so far of this chapter.

Bentham and Utilitarianism 2

In Chapter Two, Bentham states that the only two groups that oppose the principle of utility are the religionists and the philosophers. By religionists he, I assume, mainly signifies observant Christians, though any religious person would fall under this label. Devout people put service to a deity above bodily pleasure, and hence do not subscribe to Bentham's dichotomous principle of utility. The philosophers that Bentham opposes are the 'ascetics', under which he claims fall the Stoics.

Well, this is another fault of Bentham's limited principle of utility. Stoics pursue virtue, not pleasure. By simply redrawing the lines of the principle of the utility, Stoics are as utilitarian as can be. Well, maybe not as mathematical in their reasoning, but it fits the general mold. This goes the show my early argument, in the last post, that the principle of utility devolves into a tautology if Bentham allows it to encompass any possible criticism. If criticisms are allowed, well then, the principle is wrong. Surely as it is written by him, and also as is written by J.S. Mill. Some things, as Christians and Stoics believe, can not be boiled down to fit a mathematical argument.

This is a perplexing discrepancy in Bentham's reasoning. Modern American and, even moreso, Western European societies are all but secular. A modern moralist could be forgiven for ignoring the influence of religion on the decisions made by individuals, at least on the macro scale. But in Victorian England, or even before, at the time of the American Revolution, religion was as important as ever. I cannot fathom how Bentham could have dared to assume British subjects so secular as to adopt his principle of utilitarian calculus, based on pleasure and pain.

Bentham and Utilitarianism 1

After a short hiatus, philosophical reflections are back. Though they will be interrupted again soon as I travel to Nicaragua on vacation.

I have begun reading An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation by Jeremy Bentham. I just finished Mill's On Liberty, so I suppose this is necessary required reading. The first question arises in the introduction, not even written by Bentham. Bentham is summarized as arguing that all humans live to maximize pleasure and minimize pain. Well, I object, though perhaps only on the ground of semantics. To be honest, I don't yet know what Bentham truly means by this. If he means that humans want only pleasure in the modern sense of the word, and do not care for the greater part of what forms eudaimonia, then of course I object. Ask any parent - who would willingly take on so much grief and pain and toil if it were not for a much greater, higher happiness. A happiness that I'm not sure you can call pleasure, but that is certainly desirable. I hope this is not what Bentham truly intends to say, and that it is just a foible on the part of the introduction's author.

The preface is written in the third person, but rather awkwardly and with the constant knowledge that the subject is also the other. This makes the preface fairly annoying to read, constantly jolting the reader from his rhythm to confusion. Still more readable than Hobbes though.

Chapter One kicks off with a few definitions. Sadly, Bentham does restrict his principle of utility to pure pleasure and pain, as I objected to above. It seems he added to his principle in an endnote after the work was written to align his utilitarianism more with what would become John Stuart Mill's utilitarianism - taking into account virtue, future benefit, and self-fulfillment. I am not sure, however, it will be as easy as adding endnotes to reconcile the rest of his work with this new viewpoint. My beliefs, of course, do not agree with Bentham's primitive view of utility. Maximizing good, or pleasure, is only good in the sense that we do everything we can to pamper our pets. Most people require governments to protect their pursuit of liberty and happiness so they can lead uncomplicated lives and make incremental progress towards the Ubermensch. But ask Marcus Aurelius or Seneca, and he will tell you that virtue does require a just bed to sleep in.

The second disagreeable portion of Bentham first chapter is his preemptive defense against any argument. He claims that any criticism of his principle of utility merely alters the original parameters - what is right and what is not - but does not address the form of the argument. I think this ends up making his argument pedantic and redundant. He posits that the action which brings about the greatest amount of happiness to the greatest amount of people is the right action. If he qualifies that view, with protections for the minority or restricting certain actions, then his argument becomes no better than 'the action which is right, is the right action'. I was dismayed to see this nonsensical argument appear towards the end of the chapter.

A priori, synthetic knowledge?

I have finished Kant's Introduction to Logic and just started Kant's Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics. Well, by started I mean I am almost finished with the introduction. Haven't actually tapped any wisdom yet, but that'll come. I'm still ahead of my resolution, so that's good. 1 book, 0 weeks elapsed.

I am starting to become better acquainted with the terminology and discourse of metaphysics and epistemology. I have some hope for Kant, but not a whole lot. I like some of his formal logic theory but I disagree with his opinions on a priori knowledge and synthetic judgments in general. I should preface this by saying that I have not read much on the subject, and my views are of course still uninformed. With that being said, I find that I'm not sure a priori knowledge is even possible. A priori synthetic judgments are definitely impossible, as all synthetic judgments require experience, and even analytic judgments require knowledge of structure and language to define thought. It would be interesting to read what psychology has to say on the issue of what the blank human mind is capable of. Until then, I may just be a staunch empiricist. This would require a more careful reading of Locke and Hume, and perhaps to be fair I will read Leibniz as well. In any case, Kant has four books to argue his case for the middle ground between rationalism and empiricism.

On Certainty 3

I finished Kant's Introduction to Logic tonight, though I won't have finished the book until I finish the essay on formal logic at the end. The book itself was only a posthumous compendium of his lecture notes; I suppose 'what makes a book' is a valid question. Anyway, I was intrigued by his discussion of the three levels of certainty, so to speak.

Opinion is objectively and subjectively inadequate, belief is objectively inadequate but subjectively adequate, and knowledge is both objectively and subjectively adequate. I don't precisely know what Kant means by 'adequate', though I think I understand his meaning. What I disagree with can be quickly summarized by the following quote: "Philosophical truths, however, which are rational, cannot be matters of belief at all; they must simply be known; for philosophy does not admit of any mere persuasion." The bigger issue here might be that I am still unsold on anything being known a priori. If such knowledge is possible, I am not sure it would extend beyond mathematics - I do not know how it could extend to philosophy. As Kant surely knows, what the ancient philosophers expounded was philosophy as well, but they contradicted each other - surely not everyone can be right. Hence, objective inadequacy of (some) philosophy. If he means to say that true philosophy can only be reasoned, and that not all 'philosophy' is really philosophy, then he should be a bit more clear on his definitions.

Towards the end of the book he discusses prejudices, which I find quite truthful and poignant. His main three prejudices of authority are ones I find myself guilty of in varying degrees. The prejudice of personal authority - I do sometimes place too much stock in what others have said or written, at the expense of exercising my own reason. This is a good thing to work on in my philosophical pursuits. The prejudice of the authority of the majority - I must not take others' word on philosophy, but must read it for myself to discover what is correct and what is not. Though starting with better-received philosophers may not be the worst course of action. Finally, the prejudice of authority of the age. Kant speaks of deference to ancient wisdom, despite the retarded state of development of intellect in those days. Well, I disagree with the sweeping generalization that ancients were any less intelligent or well informed on philosophical matters. Indeed, I consider those days a much better time for philosophizing, without the distractions of today. However, I find within myself a prejudice towards favoring the views of the ancients, which I should fight in order to remain impartial.

The Importance of Connecting Knowledge

All departments of knowledge stand in a certain natural relation to one another. Now if in endeavoring to enlarge our knowledge we neglect this natural connection, all our manifold knowledge will result in nothing but mere rhapsody. But if we make some one science our end, and consider all other parts of knowledge only as means to it, then we impart to our knowledge a certain systematic character. - Chapter Six, Introduction to Logic


I am a firm believer of the importance of the connections between knowledge. Much like the way that, ideally, all pages on Wikipedia (hence, topics) are connected fluidly. It is difficult to truly estimate the staggering quantity of information that can be accessed in this way. For example, in the book on North Korea I'm reading now, sometimes they mention steel or cement production. Whole books have surely been written on steel production, or cement formulae. And from there, one could progress further back to chemistry, or could turn and learn about building applications. I suppose I treat my knowledge base much like a road atlas. Of course it is important to fill in specific areas, analogous to cities, with every side street and feature. It is impossible to know every road in the nation - but what good would an atlas be if the various cities weren't connected? Improving the strength of the connections between my individual areas of knowledge is important.

Yet, I do not agree with the last sentence of Kant's words, replicated above. What good would it do to focus solely on one science, even if we learn other sciences as a 'means to that end'. All knowledge is important. And it would presumptuous to assume that I can identify which area of knowledge is most important and deserving of my attention. Only someone who knew the full extent and utility of every piece of information could make that determination. I think I realize Kant's intention here, but I see a fundamental incongruity within it. To make an accurate and truthful judgement about something requires knowledge about it. I can only hope that a continued devotion to learning and philosophy will reveal that which is truly most important.

Emotion and Kant

I was thinking the other day as I was driving about the role of emotion in our lives. The Stoic party line is essentially that emotions are a manifestation of incorrect reason, of irrational thinking. I think that it many cases this is true. Anger, jealousy, disappointment, fear - these all arise from a non-Stoic view of the situation. The mythical Stoic sage surely would not have emotions, but would rather only reason calmly. But emotion does have its uses, and it is here I diverge from Stoic dogma. First of all, God has emotion. At various times in Biblical literature he is angry and at other times he is sympathetic, able to be swayed from his decisions. The original Stoics worshipped the Pantheon of Greek gods and goddesses - surely they too showed emotion. And how can gods be less than perfect? On a more modern note, my second objection is that emotion helps us learn. A strong emotional reaction imprints deeply upon us - a strong feeling of anger, if we are penitent for it, makes us less likely to be angry under the same conditions a second time. What does modern psychology say about completely non-emotional people, assuming such a person exists? Yet while I challenge the theoretical basis that emotion can and should be eradicated, I do subscribe to the theory that emotion should be opposed and minimized, while recognizing it for what it is and how it can help develop us.

I just began reading Kant. I started with an overview of his works, Kant's Introduction to Logic. The first three chapters have been on logic, on what can be known, and on the definition and structure of knowledge. I was interested in reading that mathematics and philosophy are the only rational sciences, all others are empirical. I suppose this means that only mathematics and philosophy can be positively known. Though, I am not sure philosophy is true a priori knowledge. How can it be? How can the study of correct living be known before living? They say mathematics is the only pure science, uncorrupted by observational error and biases and such. I wonder why reason, the basic rules of logic, are not also included in this category. I would hesitate to put them in the a priori category of knowledge, but surely the rules can be positively known.

My New Year's resolution is to read one philosophy book per week. Let's hope I can stick to it.