On Providence

This is the second analysis of "On Providence", an essay by Seneca, that I have done. I did the first three years ago.

So. This essay is written in the form of a response to a question. Lucilius asks "why, if the world is governed by providence, it is still the case that good men suffer from many misfortunes?" In other words, why do bad things happen to good people? In Seneca's day as today, morality is a construct, a system, present because it is rooted in a divine presence. Thus, the very discussion of 'good' or 'bad' inevitably calls for a reference to God (or gods). It is for the this reason that this question can't really be discussed without religion - which will come up again and again.

First, a small foundation. Stoicism did champion a higher power, though monotheism and polytheism were used mostly interchangeably (sometimes by the same person). They believed, for the most part, in a strict determinism which disallowed free will. Happiness for them was living in accordance with nature - Seneca himself defined it as 'perfecting reason'.

The essay is split into six sections. I have tried to select quotes representative of Seneca's argument.

Section 1

He captures the reason for the essay (Lucilius' question) and then writes a long passage on how the universe is deterministic. "... [T]his great edifice of the world does not stand without some power to guard it... the stars that assemble and disperse above us are not propelled by chance."

"[I]t is not Nature's way to let good ever do harm to good; between good men and the gods exists a friendship sealed by virtue." First, Nature here is the higher power (God). Now this introduces an interesting question, based entirely on the definition of good and bad. What is 'good'? There's no good answer to this, especially because even the Stoics couldn't agree on it. Early (strict) Stoics maintained there was no good beside virtue. Later Stoics relented and allowed that things which make life easier, like good health and shelter, are 'minor goods'. (Compare Diogenes Laertius to Aristo of Chios.) Today, most would agree that many things are 'good' which don't directly impact a man's morality. The good health and prosperity of one's family is unquestionably 'good', whereas the loss of a family member is unquestionably 'bad'. Again - this is a modern view and incompatible with Stoic doctrine.

To return to Seneca's quote, then, he must assume that a 'good' (virtuous) person can only have things done to him which will increase his virtue. I think this is indefensible. Granted, Stoics didn't believe anybody could be TRULY good, since every man had a defect, but I think we can do away with hedging our bets. Take a farmer who is, for the most part, virtuous. He is 'good'. Would a bad harvest drive him towards greater morality? I think not. We would be lucky if he maintained his virtue, and would not be surprised if he lost some of it.

""[H]e does not pamper a good man like a favorite slave; he puts him to the test, hardens him, and makes him ready for service." This quote is interesting because it establishes that Seneca assumed God to be directly involved in every man's life. That is, God constantly watches each man and allots him trials and tribulations as necessary. This poses an interesting clash with rigid determinism and the absence of free will, which I will not go into.

Section 2

" 'Why do many reversals of fortune happen to good men?' Nothing bad can happen to a good man: opposites do not mix." Again with this.

"... Adversity's onslaughts are powerless to affect the spirit of a brave man... all adversity he regards as a training exercise." There is an important distinction to be made here, and perhaps I am not sticking to the Stoic party line. Some bad things are 'adverse', and some bad things are 'senseless'. By that I mean that many bad things build character. A poor grade on a test strengthens a student's resolve (hopefully) to do better, and teaches him the value of effort. But not all bad things build character. If a drunk driver hits you and kills your wife, I would be interesting in hearing how that builds your character. I submit that it does not, except in extreme cases. Thus, there are bad things which do not produce any good.

Seneca now goes into a long discussion of why adversity improves character. I think this requires no argument - I completely agree. The question at hand is why it happens, not why it might be justified.

Section 3

More on 'no bad thing can happen to a good man'.

" 'Is it to our benefit', you ask, 'to be thrown into exile, to be reduced to poverty, to follow the funeral procession... to be broken in health?' If you are surprised that these things are of benefit to a man, you will be surprised that surgery and cautery... and abstinence from food and drink, sometimes make sick men whole." BS. Cutting a man with a knife does sometimes make sick men whole, but most of the time it hurts and degrades one's health. Abstinence from food and drink leads to death if taken in excess - it only improves health if the man was fat to start with. So it is with adversity. Throwing one into exile can certainly bring about soul-searching which would reinforce virtue, but even then the adversity is only the indirect cause. You might try to make a case that exile/poverty/hunger removes the distracting effects of immoral people/wealth/excess, but a truly 'good' person wouldn't be susceptible to those distractions. In modern terms, a truly 'good' person doesn't need exile to avoid becoming bad - he is already good!

"Nothing... seems to me more unhappy than the man who has no experience of adversity." Couldn't agree more!

Seneca lists several famous Romans who were unhappy because of excess or happy because of privation.

"The human race has surely not become so subject to vice that there is any doubt that more men would prefer to be born a Regulus than a Maecenas, if fate permitted them a choice." That is, Seneca believe most men would prefer to be born poor than rich if they could choose. Very few modern people choose to live below their means, so Seneca would be disappointed in us. In any case, the underlying argument is that living well makes one less likely to be 'good'. I venture that this is a product of human psychology, not of logic. I imagine an expensive and thorough study could identify whether people born into well-off families are more or less likely to exhibit a few carefully selected virtuous traits, but I don't know of any such study.

Section 4

"... [O]nly a great man is able to triumph over the disasters and terrors afflicting mortal life." This raises an interesting question. Can non-great men be good? Stoics included courage in their virtues, so maybe this wasn't a problem for them. But modern morality has little, on the surface, to do with the ability to overcome adversity. I can fulfill all of God's commandments (as many as are possible, anyway) while being a complete coward. If my life is easy and my faith untested, nothing in the morality construct itself makes my 'good' life any less 'good'. Extending this further - is there a minimum amount a person must be tested to confirm they are 'good'? That would be a window into God's own playbook, and I don't think Seneca meant to go that far.

"Why does God afflict the best men with bad health, or grief, or other misfortunes? Because in the army, the bravest men are ordered to carry out dangerous missions." This implies God has a fixed amount of adversity to hand out, and thus selects people up to the task. This removes God's absolute power and, frankly, seems ridiculous. "Hmm, another year. How to divvy up three million cases of infant death?"

"God has judged us worthy instruments of his purpose to ascertain how much human nature can bear." God is omnipotent - any power capable of endowing humanity certainly knows its limits.

In the rest of this section, Seneca makes the case that God is only testing us by submitting us to hardship. As in the previous case, I think an omnipotent power already knows to what depths our faith goes. In any event, Stoicism is deterministic - what you do is already ordained, so why examine? In a non-deterministic world this idea is more valid, but still implies a God with partial knowledge.

Section 5

"Take into account the further fact that it is to everyone's benefit that all the best men become soldiers, so to speak." See above. Adversity is not synonymous with development.

"... [I]t will appear that there are goods, if these are granted only to good men, and that there are evils, if these penalize only bad men." I think these is one of the more-thought provoking parts of this essay. As you might have guessed from above, I hold that people are in a large part 'determined' by the rules (though we may not know them) of psychology. Yet the universe could still be changed to provide different inputs to those rules. Seneca uses the example of blindness - if it only afflicted good people, would it be desirable? Probably. I'm having trouble coming up with a more applicable example, but I think there's something to this argument. There remains those unquestionable 'bad' events, however - losing a family member, for instance. In the end, however, this brings up another problem. If a person's moral character could be ascertained from what happens to them, how would faith and free will be changed? And if a higher power necessarily sprinkled in random occurrences of the good and bad events to 'throw us off the trail', then we've simply returned to the original question.

Seneca spends a couple paragraphs expounding a very Stoic principle, that none of this life was ours to start with and the loss of any one part is merely a reduction in what was given to us. Agreed.

" 'But why was God so unjust in allotting fate that he assigned poverty and wounds and cruel deaths to good men?' The creator cannot alter matter: this is the law to which it has been submitted." Seneca means that some people have a character which naturally begets adversity - ridiculous, in my opinion. Taken another way, however, one might think that Seneca was saying that God has to play by his own rules. The universe was made and operates according to rules. The bacteria that infects and kills you does so by the same physics that every other organism uses. This half-answers the question of why bad things happen to good people, but it also somewhat kicks the can down the road. Partially because God could have changed the rules at the beginning, and partially because every religion holds that miracles happen(ed). Since the rules can always be changed, why weren't they changed to prevent the bad thing from happening to you? Back to the original question. Besides, a hands-off determinism is so impersonal, don't you think?

Section 6

"Why, then, are you surprised that God allows the good man to experience something that the man sometimes chooses for himself? ... They are killed: why not, as sometimes they choose to take their own lives?" So, because some choose to commit suicide (which I don't feel makes you a bad person), the rest of the good people are now opened to having it forced upon them? What about before the first suicide - were good people immortal? No good people (for this would make you bad) give children cancer, so why does that happen? Et cetera.

"This is where you may surpass God: he is beyond the endurance of evil, you triumph over it." Nice quote.

Seneca closes with a couple paragraph on how death is much quicker than birth, and thus you should not fear it. Agreed, for the most part. Though this does nothing to further the argument.

Conclusion

I don't think Seneca answered the question. Not even an answer that I could disagree with, just no answer. He makes many arguments about why bad things can be beneficial (half-agreed) and why bad things should be beneficial (agreed with some exceptions). But no coherent explanation of why.

So why can bad things be allowed to happen to good people?

1.  Everything that happens is random. I don't think this is true - we may not understand all the rules, but we know there are rules. It is logical that more rules, however many and indecipherable they are, will explain everything else.

2.  Everything that happens is pre-determined. So God could not change the rules to eliminate this question? Of course not, so the rules must have been put in place with this dilemma already known. Could there be some necessary reason for bad things to happen to good people? We'll go into that in a second. And all religions believe God can break the rules at will anyway, so this can't be so.

3.  God simply doesn't care what happens. Nonsensical.

4.  God wants to test us. Doesn't he already know our resolve and our faith? A truly all-powerful presence could. This sort option is amply demonstrated by the biblical story of Job, a story which theologians still disagree on whether it is factual or fable. I don't think this is the case, though perhaps it is the second-most likely option.

5.  God is building us up through adversity. As I wrote above, too many 'bad' things have no positive effect that I can't believe this is true.

6.  My final explanation, and the one that I believe, comes from a book I once read by Rabbi Waldman. I call it the Settling Account explanation. No good person is entirely good, and no bad person is entirely bad. When a good thing befalls a bad person, it is simply God saying, "There, that's for the few good things you did - now I don't owe you a thing." Likewise, God might be saying to a good person, "Alright, sorry, but now you've atoned for the few bad things you've done."

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."

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.

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.

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....

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.

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.

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.

On Ancestry

The beginning of Murchie's chapter on human interconnection made the peculiar claim that no one on earth is less related than fiftieth cousins. I'm not sure about his reasoning. Mathematically, he walks through his thought process, conservatively assuming only two offspring per couple. But I think he fundamentally misses some things. It seems to me that I could not be so related to many of the people in Asia for example, or to Eskimos, whose populations diverged on the order of twenty thousand years ago. He also makes the claim that based on probability, everyone who lived before 700 AD is my ancestor. This too, I find outlandish. I do not see how any Korean, for example, could be in my family tree - that population diverged from the European population much too early.  

This does bring up an interesting thought though. If it were possible to trace back my ancestry, I wonder how many it would encompass. As a European mutt (Lithuanian/Russian on one side, and unknown Western European on the other), I'm sure my line would include any interesting characters. I wonder if one day genetic testing would allow for digital reconstruction of lineages, based solely on genes and gene markers. I tend to think it couldn't be 100% accurate but would probably be quite informative. 

I finished Sellars' Stoicism reader. The last chapter was on the proliferation of Stoic thought from antiquity to modern day. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Spinoza was perhaps the only philosopher to identify himself as a Stoic since Marcus Aurelius. I added Erasmus and a modern commentary on Stoicism by Lawrence Becker. 

Portuguese has stagnated recently. I feel I need to mix things up a bit - I simply don't have the time that I did for Russian to just sit down and endlessly practice vocabulary.