When Sextus Empiricus talks about the tenets of Scepticism, you get a really good impression of his ancient Greek weltanschauung, or world view. I don’t know if this is the same phenomenon that Ezra Pound calls a periplum, but it certainly feels similar. Although Sextus Empiricus presumably doesn’t set out to provide us with something akin to a periplum, we seem to get one anyway. His sketch map of the ancient world is embedded into the text, and woven into and around his argument. He uses a fascinating catalogue of very specific examples to back up some of the arguments he’s making. And what’s really quite surprising is that although most of them would probably be considered pretty dubious by the modern reader, the logic of his argument still appears valid. That ability to both use, and side-step, his temporal provincialism seems to be quite an interesting skill — unintentional or not!
It was interesting to see so many casual references to what seems like Forteana, only presented in a very ordinary way. There’s one such passage (which, according to the editor, may actually have been slipped in as a bit of a joke — though I am not too certain) that calmly explains how “Sea-monsters will flee from the crackling noise produced by the pounding of beans, and a tiger will run from the mere sound of a drum.” In another example, he describes how “the ears have winding, narrow passages and are foul with vapourous discharges which are said to gather from the various parts of the head.” As you read these descriptions of the world around him, as he saw it, you get a wonderful impression of how he ready he is to accept the mysterious and the unknown — without too much of a problem. It occurs to me that this might have been a prevailing attitude of the culture he was living in, or at least, of the audience he was writing for. Specifically, he talks about these things as if there’s nothing too strange about them. A sort of non-Forteana Forteana. An anomalous occurrence which is not doubted — but accepted for both it’s anomalous nature, and the fact that it cannot be explained and does not need to be explained in order to be believed. There’s no sense of the taboo, or the credulousness you get with many modern Fortean accounts.
In one of the more amusing passages of this nature, he explains the origin of various types of creature. “Some animals are produced without sexual union, others coition. Of those which are produced without sexual union, some are generated out of fire, such as the little animals that appear in furnaces, others out of stagnant water, such as mosquitoes, and others from soured wine, such as ants. From the earth come earthworms, from mud come frogs, from dung, maggots. From asses come beetles, and from vegetables caterpillars. Other animals come from fruits, as the gall-insects from wild figs; and still others from rotting animals, as bees from bulls and wasps from horses. Of the animals produced by sexual union, some (most of them, in fact) are the offspring of the parents of like kind, some of parents of different kinds, as are mules. Speaking of animals in general again, some are born alive, as are human beings, some are born as eggs, as are birds, and some are born as unformed flesh, as bears.”
Not wanting to quote the whole chapter, I will include the following passage as it quite nicely demonstrates some of the more interesting aspects of his this embedded weltanschauung. “We differ also in our constitutional peculiarities: for some people, beef is easier to digest than rock-fish, and some suffer diarrhoea from inferior Lesbian wine. There used to be an old woman in Attica, they say, who could take thirty drams of hemlock with impunity, and Lysis used to take four drams of opium without harm. And Demophon, Alexander’s butler, used to shiver when he was in the sun or in a hot bath, but when he was in the shade he felt warm. Athenagoras of Argos was not affected by the sting of scorpions and poisonous spiders; the tribe called the Psyllaeans are not injured by the bite of snakes and asps; and the Tentyritae, an Egyptian people, suffer no harm from the crocodiles. Also, the Ethiopians who live along the Astapous River on the other side of Lake Meroë eat scorpions and snakes and such-like animals without ill effect. Rufinus of Chalcis would drink hellebore without vomiting and without any evacuation at all; he could simply take it and digest it like any of the usual beverages. Chrysermus, of the school of Herophilus, ran the risk of a heart attack whenever he took pepper, and Soterichus the surgeon used to suffer from diarrhoea whenever he caught the odour of fried sheat-fish. Andron of Argos was so unaffected by thirst that he even journeyed across the waterless part of Libya without requiring a drink. Tiberius Caesar could see in the dark, and Aristotle tells us of a certain Thracian who had the hallucination that a man was continually leading the way in front of him.”
There’s another paragraph which catches me in the same manner. “Now, since some animals have yellow eyes, others bloodshot eyes, while others have eyes which are white, and others have eyes of still other colours, it is reasonable to suppose, I think, that their perception of colour is different. Moreover, if we fix our gaze on the sun for a long time and then look down into a book, the letters appear to be gold-coloured and going in circles. Also, some animals have a sort of natural brilliance in their eyes, and send off from them a fine light which travels easily, so that they even see at night. […] It is quite possible that there are peoples unknown to us, to whom things rare with us are common occurrences and with whom the conditions obtaining with us are comparatively rare. It might turn out, for example, that those who feel no pain at the bite of spiders are in the majority, and that some feel pain only rarely; and this might be similarly the case with the other constitutional peculiarities mentioned above.”
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
Sextus Empiricus makes an interesting argument based around the idea of being “party to the controversy.” The general impression I get from this argument is that any attempt to reason about something from within the very thing you’re reasoning about, is inherently flawed. The idea is that by being within the system, or being party to the thing you’re trying to judge, you perspective on things is tainted by the very thing you’re trying to pass judgement on. It reminds me of a summary I once read about Wittgenstein’s views on language, and to the best of my memory, how we’d need to lift ourselves out of language before we were able to discuss it properly.
He first sets out a description of the various states you can be in during your life, and how these effect your perception of the world. Among them are ill people, and old people, and some more esoteric examples such as “blood-shot” people and “jaundiced” people. “Now, considering the fact that so much discrepancy is due to the states we are in, and that men are in different states at different times, it is easy, perhaps, to state the nature of each object as it appears to this or that person, but difficult to say further what its real nature is. This is because the discrepancy does not lend itself to judgement. In fact, whoever attempts to resolve the discrepancy will find himself either in one or the other of the aforesaid states or else in no state at all. But now to say that he is in no state at all, that he is neither healthy nor sick, neither at motion nor at rest, that he is not of any particular age, and that he is free from the other states, is perfectly absurd. On the other hand, the fact of his being in some state or other while attempting to pass judgement will make him a party to the controversy. And moreover, he will be confused by the states in which he finds himself, and this will prevent hi from being an absolute judge in the matter. A person, therefore, who is in the waking state cannot compare the impressions of a sleeping person with those of waking persons, and a healthy person cannot compare the impressions of sick people with those of the healthy. We do, after all, tend to give our assent to those things which are present and have a present influence over us rather than to things which are are not present.”
One of the bits that caught my eye involved the discussion of how reality appears to us in our dreams. This is something I’ll come back to later when I start rambling about Descartes and the dream argument. “Whether one is in a sleeping or waking state also makes a difference in the sense-impressions, since our manner of perception while awake differs from the perception we have in sleep; and our manner of perception in sleep is not like our waking perception. As a result, the existence of non-existence of our sense-impressions is not absolute but relative, since they bear a relation to our sleeping or waking state. It is probable, therefore, that although our dream-images are unreal in our waking state, they are nevertheless not absolutely unreal, for they do exist in our dreams. In the same manner the realities of the waking state, even if they do not exist in dream, nevertheless exist.”
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
The way that Skepticism was came into being is quite fascinating, and reminds me a lot of the stories you hear about Zen enlightenment. In talking about a hypothetical man and the original Skeptic, Sextus Empiricus states that “His initial purpose in philosophising was to pronounce judgement on appearances. He wished to find out which are true and which are false, so as to attain mental tranquility. In doing so, he met with contradicting alternatives of equal force. Since he could not decide between them, he withheld judgement. Upon his suspension of judgement there followed, by chance, mental tranquility in maters of opinion. […] The Sceptic, in fact, had the same experience as that related in the story about Apelles the artist. They say that when Apelles was painting a horse, he wished to represent the horse’s foam in the painting. His attempt was so unsuccessful that he gave it up and at the same time flung at the picture his sponge, with which he had wiped the paints of his brush. As it struck the picture, the sponge produced an image of horse’s foam.”
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
I had not noticed the connection between Scepticism and Wittgenstein until the editor pointed it out in a footnote that spanned three pages. In an attempt to summarise that footnote, I will quote: “Both philosophies contend that when men twist or ignore their ordinary ways of talking and thinking they get into hopeless puzzles or Sackgassen, blind alleys. Both are suspicious of attempts to look behind our living experience of words, things, or minds; they content that language when it is most fruitfully employed is a functional part of action or everyday life. […] Both say, in effect, that the claims of metaphysics float in mid air away from the facts, offer no way of deciding whether or not they are true. And so these claims are squabbled over endlessly, and produce insoluble puzzles for their creators. […] A third basic similarity between their philosophies is that both wish to do away with philosophy itself. Both wish to make philosophy unnecessary by helping us to restore that rogue reason and the language he uses to their home in everyday life. The aperient or laxative notion of doubt […] is matched in Wittgenstein’s philosophy by the conviction that analysis is a cure for a disease — the disease of arbitrariness, of building castles in the air and believing in the them. […] Once we are reminded that freedom involves freedom from jail, freedom from censorship, something being free of charge, a girl being free for a date, etc., we drop our nonsensical puzzles and learn to think about freedom fruitfully and clearly. And when we do this well and habitually, philosophy of all sorts, metaphysical as well as Wittgensteinian or Skeptical, becomes unnecessary. In both philosophies, philosophy washes itself away with the nonsense it works upon.”
I came across a passage while reading How to Write a Book Proposal by Michael Larsen that seems strangely related. "Michelangelo believed his statues were waiting for him inside the blocks of marble he carved with hammer and chisel. Imagine that you are a sculptor and that your idea is an enormous block of marble inside of which is a magnificent edifice, that perfect embodiment of your idea. Your job is to use your craft and vision to chip away the superfluous until only an effective, organic structure remains in which form and function are inseparable. One sign of great art is that the artist's technique is so effective that is disappears into the work."
I wonder whether you could generalise away from creative technique, and apply this same idea to any craft, tool, philosophy, or method. That is, you might view a good method as something which falls away once you’ve finished with it, rather like scaffolding does once the building has been built. That the method or craft should vanish into the finished product. If there is anything left of the method, when you’re finished applying it, the method might be faulty. In the same way that if there’s any philosophy left once you’ve finished applying it, the philosophy might be faulty. With this in mind, the way of the Pyrrhonean philosopher seems to be an interesting approach. That is — philosophy not for philosophy’s sake, but for the sake of living a decent life. And to avoid any philosophy that does not set out to undo itself as a primary goal.
Sextus Empiricus describes Skepticism as being able to “follow a certain line of reasoning which indicates to us, in a manner consistent with appearances, how to live in accordance with the customs, the laws, and the institutions of our country, and with our own natural feelings.” He also adds that the “definition of the Pyrrhonean philosopher is also virtually included in the concept of the Skeptic discipline. It is, of course, he who shares the ‘ability’ we have spoken of.” I like the description provided by the editor too. “Scepticism is a practical-wisdom philosophy, one that seeks (as did post-Christian Stoicism and Epicureanism) eudaimonia, “happiness,” by way of peace of mind, or ataraxia. The truth is not its ultimate goal. Moreover, the proof of the falsity of particular dogmatic claims is not its motivation or goal either. The arche of Scepticism is peaceful happiness by way of a suspension of judgement.” Followed by a nicely put reminder that life “is restored to its ordinary course when the doubting is done.”
During the seminar we had on the subject, I noticed something else a little curious. The ideas of Phyrro are only really known through the descriptions provided in Outlines of Pyrrhonism by Sextus Empiricus. Most of the ideas recorded by his student, Timon of Phlius, have been lost to history. Not that I know much about her, but this reminded me of the poetry of Sappho. Of course, one major difference between the two (except subject matter!) is that Phyrro didn’t write anything down in the first place.
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
There’s an interesting passage from Cicero in Academica, where he says that “almost all the old philosophers […] maintained that the senses are limited, the mind feeble, the span of life short, and that truth (in Democritus’s phrase) is sunk in an abyss, opinion and custom are all-prevailing, no place is left for truth, all things successively are wrapped in darkness.” Cicero goes on to talk about Skepticism in terms of probability. He describes the conditions around taking a ship to another country, and how you can’t know the truth about the sea-worthiness of the ship, the skill of the sailors, or the conditions of the weather on the journey. He goes on to say that you can, however, deduce — through various means — that it is improbable that the ship will sink. I think this is interesting, but it still seems to cling on to the philosophy for it’s method instead of wanting to abandon it.
In our seminar, someone raised the topic of science, and asked if it told us anything objective about the universe. Such as, do atoms really exist? What is the true nature of the Universe? Do we all exist as a 2D holographic projections on the surface of the cosmological horizon? If you took the same approach as the Skeptics, you’d shrug off the question and suspend your judgement on the mater. I mean, what does it matter if we are holographic projections? How does that help us to live a better life? Science is a tool. We use it to build bridges, and cars, and make sick people better. Yet, there’s a strange sense that people look to it for truth about the things. Like it can help us to understand the objective nature of the world around us, and of our place in existence — which is, in a way, what the Stoics were trying to do, and what the Skeptics rejected as dogmatism and nonsense. Perhaps the opposite of this way of thinking would be some sort of Pyrrhonean natural philosophy — where the scientific method was applied as a tool only, and not looked towards as a source of any absolute truth. I’m not sure though, it may just be a case of me smushing together all the new words I’ve learnt this month into something that sounds cool.
This search for the objective truth about the universe is covered in a humorous footnote from the editor: “The much discussed Sage of the Stoics (who was never found) often was the subject of Sceptical assault and humorous irony. He was to be the arbiter, the judge whose experiences and judgements were to give men the final truth about the universe, and about man’s role in it. Supposedly, of course, he would confirm, when he finally did arrive, what the Stoics has said about these matters.” And this is countered by the Skeptics, in another footnote which reads: “Scepticism is a practical-wisdom philosophy, one that seeks (as did post-Christian Stoicism and Epicureanism) eudaimonia, ‘happiness,’ by way of peace of mind, or ataraxia. Th truth is not its ultimate goal. Moreover, the proof of the falsity of particular dogmatic claims is not its motivation or goal either. The arche of Scepticism is peaceful happiness by way of a suspension of judgement.”
[A repetition of a quote here — sorry about that!]
I will quote an interesting section where Sextus Empiricus gives us his take on the relativity of sensory perceptions. “Take paintings, for example. To the eye they seem to have hollows and prominences, but certainly not to the sense of touch. And to some, honey appears to be pleasant to the tongue, but to the eyes it appears unpleasant; thus it is impossible to say whether it is in itself pleasant or unpleasant. With perfume the case is similar; it delights the sense of smell but is disgusting to the taste. […] Therefor we are not in a position to say what each thing is by nature, although it is possible to say what it appears to be on each occasion. We could easily cite more examples, but to avoid waste of time, on account of the plan of the treatise, we need say just this. Each appearance that we perceive through the senses seems to present itself under many forms; an apple, for instance, seems smooth, fragrant, sweet, and yellow.” There is an interesting footnote that follows this passage. “This smooth, sweet apple turns up again in Montaigne’s ‘Apology for Raymond Sebond,’ and in the same context, though after thirteen centuries it ripened and was red for Montaigne.”
This final quote, along the same lines, seemed like a nice summary of his views on relativism. “The eighth mode is the argument from relativity. By this mode we conclude that, since all things are relative, we shall suspend judgement as to what they are absolutely and in themselves. […] The result, however, is clear once we show in this manner that all things are relative. We shall not be able to say what each object is in its own nature and absolutely, but what it appears to be under the aspect of relativity. Hence follows the necessity of our suspending judgement concerning the nature of things.”
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
One of the first things that came to mind after reading about the Skeptics, was the topic of qualia. Me and Sean spent a few weeks arguing about the topic last year, and came to no real conclusion. As far as I remember, I was arguing that they didn’t exist, and he was arguing the opposite. A mutual friend of ours joined in one time, and managed to settle the debate in a single sentence. Though, I can’t remember what he said, for the life of me! My best guess was that it was an argument from relativism, which consequentially rendered the debate completely moot. Which is exactly why one of the first things I did after the class this week was check to see what the Skeptics had to say about qualia. Of course, I couldn’t find anything — but that’s probably something to do with the fact that the term was invented in 1929, some 1,719 years after Sextus Empiricus died! If anyone knows of a similar or related term that Skeptics used, I would be interested in reading more about what they had to say on the topic.
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
I’ve gone a bit quote mad with all of this. You’ll have to excuse me. I found the subject matter pretty interesting, and there’s a whole bunch of stuff I wanted to note down for my own sake — so that I can come back to it at a later date. I’m not really sure about how much or how little to quote, so any feedback you can provide me with would be helpful. It does occur to me that with Google, and particularly Google Books, most of this stuff can be found with a relative amount of ease. And what’s more, I really admire the style of Abyssinian Moon — where so much is left to the reader to hunt for. But then again, Abyssinian Moon also quotes some really choice things — and I think that works really well too. So maybe there’s a ballance? Maybe it’s important, and maybe it’s not. Sorry again, though, if it’s distracting! Which is to say, here’s the last of the passages I found interesting. Hehe.
Sextus Empiricus makes an interesting point about how opinions are formed, and defended. I can’t help but find similarities between this and some of the various online communities I’ve been involved with. “When there are rational grounds for an opinion, people are content to set them forth and wait for them to operate. In such cases, people do not hold their opinions with passion; they hold them calmly, and set forth their reasons quietly. The opinions that are held with passion are always those for which no good ground exists; indeed, the passion is the measure of the holder’s lack of rational conviction.” The editor follows this up with another point. “As it is, they are observers of the complex set of mutually conflicting claims that make up the history of metaphysical philosophy, observers who notice that with ingenuity and luck as strong a defence can be made for any one claim as for any other. And this notion of ‘strength’ is broad and qualitative, not as precise and quantitative as the balance-scale would suggest. This ‘equality’ simply means that reason is a rogue, that having no decisive grounds for proving matters beyond everyday experience and custom it can make anything as possible (or implausible) as anything else.”
There’s also great passage where he describes the ninth mode of argument, which is concerned with the rarity of occurrence. “The sun is surely a much more amazing thing than a comet. But the sun we see constantly, whereas we rarely see a comet. Hence our astonishment at the sight of a comet is such that we may even believe it to be a divine omen, while we are not at all astonished at the sight of the sun. If, however, we only imagine the sun as appearing rarely and setting rarely, illuminating everything at once and causing everything to be thrown suddenly into shadow then we shall observe great astonishment at the occurrence. Earthquakes, also, do not cause a like degree of confusion in those who are experiencing one for the first time as they do in those who have become accustomed to them by habit. And how great is the astonishment the sea causes in a man who beholds it for the first time! But also the beauty of the human body, in a subject we see for the first time, and suddenly, excites us more than if the sight should become a common one. Rare things seem to be valuable; things familiar to us, and easily obtainable, not at all. For example, if we suppose water to be a rare thing, how much more valuable it will appear to us than all the things which are held to be valuable! Or if we ponder the thought of fold simply lying about in large quantities on the ground like stones, to whom shall we suppose it would be so valuable, or so much worth locking up? Since therefore, according to the frequency or rarity of their occurrence, the same things seem sometimes to be astonishing or valuable, and sometimes not at all so, we conclude that we shall perhaps be able to say what the nature of each of these things appears to be in the context of its frequent or rare occurrence, but that it is not within our power to state the nature of each eternal object considered purely and simply in itself.”
References:
Scepticism, Man, & God
Selections from the major writings of Sextus Empiricus
