Author Archives: Hiram

About Hiram

Hiram is an author from the north side of Chicago who has written for The Humanist, Infidels, Occupy, and many other publications. He blogs at The Autarkist and is the author of Tending the Epicurean Garden (Humanist Press, 2014), How to Live a Good Life (Penguin Random House, 2020) and Epicurus of Samos – His Philosophy and Life: All the principal Classical texts Compiled and Introduced by Hiram Crespo (Ukemi Audiobooks, 2020). He earned a BA in Interdisciplinary Studies from NEIU.

On the Harm and Benefit of the Gods

The subject of the harm and benefit of the gods is covered in the (incomplete) Philodeman Scroll Peri Eusebeias (On Piety). The scroll discusses the physical and mental benefits of piety, which are documented to some extent in modern research on meditation and chanting. The study of the benefits of religious techniques from a purely naturalist perspective will continue to enlighten us in our investigation of this subject, but here I’m interested in going to the Epicurean sources where the discussion of the harms and benefits of the gods begins. The Letter to Menoeceus contains an interesting declaration:

For the utterances of the multitude about the gods are not true preconceptions but false assumptions; hence it is that the greatest evils happen to the wicked and the greatest blessings happen to the good from the hand of the gods, seeing that they are always favorable to their own good qualities and take pleasure in people like to themselves, but reject as alien whatever is not of their kind.

These are strange statements, considering that we know that the first Epicureans did not believe that the gods intervened in human affairs. Here, it seems that the gods are being studied as a cultural phenomenon, based on the signs or effects that they have as cultural creations. The Monadnock translation says it differently:

The things that most people say about the gods are based on false assumptions, not a firm grasp of the facts, because they say that the greatest goods and the greatest harms come from the gods. For since they are at home with what is best about themselves, they accept that which is similar and consider alien that which is different.

… which seems to indicate an art of attuning to the gods according to our own qualities (a subject which Sri Krishna, curiously, also discusses in the Bhagavad Gita, saying that everyone worships according to their own tendencies). Peter St Andre adds notes / commentaries that clarify that here, Epicurus is referring to the “prolepsis” (or preconception) of the gods, and another note that says:

This is a puzzling sentence. Some translators understand it as applying to “the gods” from the previous sentence, with the sense that the gods would not interfere in human affairs because they don’t care about (“consider as alien”) mortal creatures who are so different from themselves. Other translators understand it as applying to “most people” from the previous sentence, with the sense that most people assume that immortal beings so different from themselves must want to interfere in human affairs.

The essay Epicure, dieu et image de dieu: une autarcie extatique presents some interesting points (it was shared with me by my friend Marcus, who compares the author with Norman DeWitt and laments that she has not been translated into English). It compares participation in the studies of Epicurean philosophy with the ancient mysteries (because only initiates had insight into the knowledge being taught in the Garden and were able to participate in the blissful practices).

In the past I’ve used the word “osmosis” (the process of gradual or unconscious assimilation of ideas, knowledge, etc.) to refer to the religious techniques that were used in the Garden to help students imitate the Kathegemones (Epicurean Guides)–and especially Epicurus and Metrodorus–in order to experience the pleasures they enjoyed. In “Dieu et image de Dieu“, the author uses the word scissiparité, which translates into the English word “fission” (the action of dividing or splitting something into two or more parts). It’s the process by which one cell divides into two clone cells.

This metaphor drawn from biology is used to describe how, by contemplating on the sages and gods, on their ataraxia and bliss, we may become like them. In the case of osmosis, it would be through a slow assimilation of our psyche into the larger, blissful psyche of the deity or the sage; in the case of “scissiparité” it seems like we would merge into a union with divinity through some religious technique (like “chanting the names”, a popular practice in Bhakti-yoga) and then separation, where we would take with us the bliss and pleasant impressions acquired via the divine union. It’s interesting that in both English and French we are today using verbiage and metaphors from science, from nature, from organisms–rather than supernatural language–to describe these religious techniques.

Lucretius has more to say on this. In Liber Sextvs, he says:

For even those men who have learned full well
That godheads lead a long life free of care,
If yet meanwhile they wonder by what plan
Things can go on (and chiefly yon high things
Observed o’erhead on the ethereal coasts),
Again are hurried back unto the fears
Of old religion and adopt again
Harsh masters, deemed almighty,- wretched men,
Unwitting what can be and what cannot,
And by what law to each its scope prescribed,
Its boundary stone that clings so deep in Time.

This passage reminds me of “the Almighty”, a false-god character from the film 10,000 BC who (in the movie) seems to have been a survivor of Atlantis. Whenever he appears, everyone in the city must bow and kiss the ground, and his attendants approach him covering their faces with their hands and long nails in fear. This type of primitive religious fear is one of the main “diseases of the soul” that Epicurean philosophy saves us from. Lucretius elsewhere continues:

Wherefore the more are they borne wandering on
By blindfold reason. And, Memmius, unless
From out thy mind thou spuest all of this
And casteth far from thee all thoughts which be
Unworthy of gods and alien to their peace,
Then often will the holy majesties
Of the high gods be harmful unto thee,
As by thy thought degraded,- not, indeed,
That essence supreme of gods could be by this
So outraged as in wrath to thirst to seek
Revenges keen; but even because thyself
Thou plaguest with the notion that the gods,
Even they, the Calm Ones in serene repose,
Do roll the mighty waves of wrath on wrath;
Nor wilt thou enter with a serene breast
Shrines of the gods; nor wilt thou able be
In tranquil peace of mind to take and know
Those images which from their holy bodies
Are carried into intellects of men,
As the announcers of their form divine.
What sort of life will follow after this
‘Tis thine to see.

Here, Lucretius is accentuating that the error of fear-based religion and superstition is not only degrading, but also keeps us from having the proper disposition to be able to derive benefit from religious techniques. He says that unless we purge these thoughts that are unworthy of the gods, they will be harmful to us “as if they had been degraded by our own thought”.

Our own thoughts cannot harm the natural gods (who, if they exist, would live in outer space): we can only hurt ourselves with our beliefs about the gods. Lucretius says that we “plague ourselves” with the belief that the gods are wrathful, and nor will we be able to enter their shrine in peace or to visualize them ecstatically (a practice that ancient Epicureans seem to have found both blissful and ethically useful) if we really hold evil beliefs about the gods.

Lucretius also warns that we will see what sort of life arises from our view of the gods, that this will be self-evident to us. Immediately, I think about the obscene orgies of violence and terrorism that we see today in Islam, and about the misery that is accepted blindly and passively as a yolk by the Christians who believe that God wants them to “bear their cross” and who believe that suffering is good, that it dignifies us and makes us good people. I also think of the Jehova’s Witnesses and others who reject blood transfusions for their own children and themselves even if this is the only life-saving method because of blind obedience to a Bronze-Age Biblical taboo against having contact with blood, etc. Fear of gods is just as harmful today as it was in antiquity.

These Lucretian verses are in line with the “cognitive purity code” that Epicurus established for the gods when he said we could believe anything about them so long as it didn’t contradict their incorruptibility and beatitude (ever-blissful nature) in his Epistle to Menoeceus–an epitome, or summary of his ethics. Epicurus must have looked at many case-studies and elaborated on this teaching in many ways with his disciples prior to summarizing it in this way. Lucretius continues, making an appeal to reason–which helps to save us from superstition and its dangers–and warning against the tendency to degrade ourselves with fear-based auguries or oracles:

But that afar from us
Veriest reason may drive such life away,
Much yet remains to be embellished yet
In polished verses, albeit hath issued forth
So much from me already; lo, there is
The law and aspect of the sky to be
By reason grasped; there are the tempest times
And the bright lightnings to be hymned now-
Even what they do and from what cause soe’er
They’re borne along- that thou mayst tremble not,
Marking off regions of prophetic skies
For auguries, O foolishly distraught
Even as to whence the flying flame hath come,
Or to which half of heaven it turns, or how
Through walled places it hath wound its way,
Or, after proving its dominion there,
How it hath speeded forth from thence amain-
Whereof nowise the causes do men know,
And think divinities are working there.

Here we see that 2,000 years ago, Lucretius warned against a still-popular mistake among the men of religion of our day: the “God of the gaps” argument, which tries to impose or project the image of God unto whatever field of knowledge has not yet been deciphered and pierced by science. As science has advanced, the “gap” that God needs to fill has narrowed and, today, there is very little that can be justified by an appeal to a creator, vindictive or intervening God. For instance, creationism is little more than a joke, and the theory of evolution by natural selection eloquently explains the nature of things.

It is unfair to speak of the harms that come from incorrect religiosity without also addressing the benefits of correct piety, according to Epicurean philosophy. If we claim that there is nothing whatsoever worthy of honor or praise, this would seem to endorse a cynical nihilism that can only awkwardly attach itself to a pleasant lifestyle and philosophy. Piety was an important area of interest for the ancient Epicurean Guides.

Honoring a sage is itself a great good to the one who honors. – Epicurean Saying 32

Epicurean Guides like Hermarchus and Philodemus seemed convinced that those who practice philosophy correctly feel as if they were protected by a lucky star or a guardian angel, but it’s not a spirit or supernatural force that is protecting us. They addressed philosophy in salvific terms, and Epicurus said that to be truly free we must be slaves to philosophy. It’s philosophy that liberates us and protects us, our heads, and our characters, if we honor her and practice correctly: the canon protects us from false views that are harmful for our happiness, the parrhesia (frank criticism) of our friends protects us from error and helps keep our character healthy, some of the healing Doctrines diagnose some disease of the soul and carry medicine for it, etc. If we engage the process of philosophy, it’s as if we have created guardian angels for ourselves. This reminds me of this ecstatic, poetic, and quasi-shamanic statement in Nietzsche’s Zarathustra:

I want to have goblins about me, for I am courageous. The courage which scareth away ghosts, createth for itself goblins- it wanteth to laugh.

… which reminds me of religious techniques used in many cultures, which involve music, loud noises, and other playful behavior believed to shoo away bad spirits (sadness, depression, etc.) and attract good spirits (happy dispositions). The book De l’inhumanité de la religion discusses interesting aspects of the intersection between play-behavior and primitive (pre-agricultural) forms of shamanic religion. In nature, we see that play behavior has didactic utility: puppies and cubs learn social skills, hierarchical structure, hunting techniques, and other useful skills for survival and socializing. I believe the intersection between primitive religiosity and play behavior deserves more focused study from a specifically Epicurean perspective.

Form our meleta on the Philodeman Scroll On Piety, I get the sense that Epicurus was specifically interested in the bodily and mental repercussions of pious practices, and their effect on our bodies, minds, habits, and dispositions. If some form of pious practice is playful, blissful, ethically useful and correct as per our Doctrines, and treats fear-based beliefs and superstitions as taboo, it may qualify as a specifically-Epicurean experiment in piety, and might in the future furnish a useful case-study that would allow us to speak with more authority on the subject of the harms and benefits of the gods.

Further Reading:

The Epicurean Gods: a SoFE Educational Module

 Piety according to the sources of Epicurean Philosophy

Dialogues on the Epicurean Gods

Second Dialogue on the Epicurean Gods

“For there ARE Gods …”

PD 1: On the Utility of the Epicurean Gods

Book Review: Uniqueness of Carvaka Philosophy in Indian Traditional Thought

India’s problem turns out to be the world’s problem. The problem’s name is God. – Salman Rushdie

Over the years, I have taken an interest in sister traditions to Epicureanism that have emerged elsewhere: the sumac kawsay philosophy of South America’s indigenous populations, the pleasure-ethics of the Taoist sage Yang Chu, and the Lokayata (aka Charvaka) School of India.

There isn’t much left on the Charvaka tradition–the most concise ancient introduction I found are fifteen statements that comprise the Lokayata chapter of the Sarva-Siddhanta-Sangraha. All that is left of their ancient writings are commentaries by enemies. The book Uniqueness of Carvaka Philosophy in Indian Traditional Thought by Bhupender Heera caught my attention because it promised to fill the information gap, so I have enjoyed reading it, and this is my review of it.

Of their character, although they were greatly maligned by the orthodox, I found this quote which reminded me of (biographer) Laertius’ defense of the character of Epicurus from the attacks of his enemies:

Under the heading “Nastika” Abul Fazl has referred to the good work, judicious administration and welfare schemes that were emphasised by the Charvaka law-makers.

While searching for evidence of a Charvaka movement in India–and trying to discern the extent to which it’s a living, evolving, modern tradition–I came across this Charvaka Manifesto, where we see the beginnings of a (much needed) neo-Charvaka revival in India which is inspired, in great part, in the New Atheism personalities like Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, and Richard Dawkins. Salman Rushdie is, of course, also among the influences in modern Charvaka, as are the modern political and social realities of India, and (since India is so close to the Islamic world) there is some solidarity with the ex-Muslim movement.

The fervor towards a reform or evolution of the Charvaka Philosophy is inspired, in part, by accusations of being anti-social that go back to over 2,600 years ago, and which parallel the treatment Epicurean philosophy has also often received. Orthodox Hindus consider that there are four aims of life: pleasure (kama), wealth (artha), duty (dharma), and liberation (moksha). Charvakas originally only accepted the first two, and rejected dharma or virtue (which involved upholding the caste system) and moksha (liberation, salvation or redemption is typically interpreted in religious terms). Some modern Charvakas argue that if dharma is only understood as treating others fairly and kindly, then they can accept that; and that they understand death as liberation, or moksha.

The enjoyment of heaven lies in eating delicious food, keeping company of young women, using fine clothes, perfumes, garlands, sandal paste … while moksha is death which is cessation of life-breath … the wise therefore ought not to take pains on account of moksha. A fool wears himself out by penances and fasts. Chastity and other such ordinances are laid down by clever weaklings. — Sarvasiddhanta Samgraha, Verses 9-12

The view that there is a soul separate from the body, which on reaching the other world enjoys rewards, is like the hope to get tasty fruits from the big flower of a tree in the sky. – Prabodhacandrodaya, Act II, Sloka 16

The Sub-Schools

There are two camps within Charvaka: The Dhurta Charvakas deny that the soul exists, while the Susikshita Carvakas say that the soul exists as long as the body lasts. This group is subdivided into the Dehatmavada (soul = body), Indriyatmavada (the soul is the senses), Mano-atmavada (the soul is the mind), and Pranatmavada (the soul is the vital breath). Aviddhakarṇa, Bhavivikta, Kambalasvatara, Purandara and Udbhatabhatta are the five commentators who developed the Charvaka system in various ways.

It would be interesting to evaluate (perhaps in the future with other content) the merits of each sub-school’s potential arguments. That so many different views coexisted among the Charvakas should be a testament to the robust, free-thinking intellectual life that they once had, and reminds us of the many schools that also existed under the umbrella of the Cyrenaics.

Some Terms

The author notes that “there is a huge aversion to the body in Indian thought“. Instead, Charvaka is a world-affirming (pravitti) philosophy, whereas from the Charvaka perspective, ascetic religious philosophies are nivrtti (world-denying). To Charvaka disciples, heaven is pleasure, hell is pain.

The author rejects the nastika (heterodox) classification for Charvaka within Indian philosophical systems, and instead prefers to classify Charvaka as “non-Vedic”. In order to be a heterodox/non-Vedic philosophy, it always and necessarily self-identifies in contrast to whatever is “orthodox” or Vedic. Therefore, I think both labels fail to appreciate the mortal blow on religiosity and the pre-scientific impulse that is Charvaka’s insistence on a canon of sense perception–even if this canon has not yet been perfected, in my view. Charvaka philosophy recognizes pleasure and the senses as guides, but rejects common-sensical methods of inference, and this is one of its main weaknesses–or a main target for potential reform by the Neo-Charvakas. For instance, in page 67 the author makes the argument that materialists can’t assert universal truths, but this is true only for materialists who adhere to the old Charvaka epistemology that rejects methods of inference. Modern scientific materialism is not of this kind, and neither is Epicurean materialism.

On the Need for inference: Consciousness and Matter

Charvaka teaches that “consciousness is born from elements just as seeds of kinva (fermenters) produce intoxicant“. This is a fascinating insight: 2,600 years ago, a group of materialist Indian philosophers compared awareness or consciousness to other biochemical processes (in this case, fermentation). They viewed consciousness as an organic, natural phenomenon, and used a metaphor that would have been at home in De Rerum Natura.

The author of “Uniqueness of Charvaka Philosophy” argues (correctly, in my view) that therefore the Charvakas DO infer by analogy in the case of the above-quoted proverb. He also argues (correctly) that the Charvaka MUST infer, and since inference is not part of their method, this renders their method inconsistent or impossible to practice. This is known as the problem of apraxia. Impracticality.

Conclusion

The author of Uniqueness of Carvaka Philosophy mixes praise with criticism in the book. He  constantly acknowledges the “low position” or status of materialism, even as he acknowledges that it was initially the “only” system of philosophy worthy of its name. He apologizes for defending it, and uses terms like “gross” materialism or hedonism. At times, he seems to have acquired many of the biased attitudes he criticizes elsewhere: in page 33, he laments that “we are all Charvaka” today. In page 72, the author argues that the “body can’t cause consciousness”, and seems to endorse supernaturalism. In page 38, he accuses Charvakas of being extremists and entertaining “uncontrolled thoughts breaking loose from all restrictions”. Therefore, the reader of the book should know that the author is not entirely without bias.

Also, the reader should bear in mind that the author’s first language is not English. However, overall, considering the scarcity of material available in English, Uniqueness of Carvaka Philosophy is still a useful resource to get acquainted with the basics of the Charvaka system of philosophy.

Further Reading:

Uniqueness of Carvaka Philosophy in Indian Traditional Thought

The Lokayata chapter of the  Sarvasiddhanta Samgraha

Carvaka at HumanisticTexts.org

Paper: Materialism in India, After Carvaka

Happy Twentieth! Philosophy as Self-care

Happy Twentieth to everyone and Happy 2022! The essay Victor Frankl and the Search for Meaning is a review of the best-selling book on logo-therapy and the therapeutic benefits of making meaning, written from an Epicurean perspective. Please enjoy our past Eikas essays, which have all been compiled here.

The essay Utility and Affection in Epicurean Friendship is in academia.edu.

“Practice these and similar things day and night, by yourself and with a like-minded Friend, and you will never be disturbed whether waking or sleeping, and you will live as a god among men: for a man who lives in the midst of immortal goods is unlike a mere mortal man.” – Epicurus, to Menoeceus

You may remember that the Letter to Menoeceus has a “meleta portion” with instructions on how to practice philosophy “by ourselves and with others of like mind“. Here, Epicurus uses the term “μελέτα πρὸς σεαυτὸν ” (meléta prós seautón) to speak of the practice of philosophy by oneself (se-auton). 

We have touched on this, but not delved too much in depth into what it consists of, except to observe that it must involve a balance of both self-nurturing and self-discipline. Without self-nurturing, one risks engaging in ascetic self-abuse in the name of philosophy. Without self-discipline, one risks being too soft and fearful, and remaining unprepared for the occasional harshness of life.

According to the essay Ascetic self-cultivation, Foucault and the hermeneutics of the self, by Michael A. Peters:

“the word epimeleia is related to melete, which means both exercise and meditation”

Epicurus’ meléta prós seautón reminds us of epimeleia heautou–the Greek term for self care. In fact, the terms share semantic roots, and half of the meleta we are supposed to do (meleta by ourselves) could be characterized as self-care, or epimeleia heautou. If we search for epimeleia heautou or for self-care online, however, we will be taken in many unwanted directions. Many products are being sold in the name of self-care, and philosophers like Michelle Foucault and Pierre Hadot have influenced how people understand the term today. This can be useful, but within the Society of Epicurus we’re specifically interested in the Epicurean sense of self-care.

Let us unpack the twin notions of meléta prós seautón and epimeleia heautou into bits and pieces, so that it’s easier to appreciate why self-care is important.

  • It is impossible to take care of oneself if we do not have time for leisure, time to think and practice philosophy, time for introspection. So this practice of self-care must therefore be a feature of a certain civilized, self-cultivated quality of life that affords time for leisure.
  • A lifestyle of “self-care”–to whatever extent it is implemented–seems distant from the lifestyle that the polis / state requires of citizens, which involves preparing for warfare or for civil administration. It’s a private lifestyle that makes us look within and centers on intimate concerns. It therefore dignifies the individual.
  • Self-care requires that we assume, first, a degree of causal responsibility for our own happiness, dispositions, habits, and our choices and avoidances. It must therefore be a feature of moral maturity.
  • Again, in order to avoid the excesses of self-indulgence or self-abuse, it seems fair to say that self-care must include a balance of self-nurturing and self-discipline–which may at times require a willingness to rationally renegotiate and shift our emotional investment into greater degrees of self-love or self-reproach, as needed. This reminds us of Nietzsche’s declaration:

He who cannot command himself shall obey. And many a one can command himself, but still sorely lacketh self-obedience! – Nietzsche’s Zarathustra

Self-rule (autarchy) requires self-obedience: we do not truly rule ourselves if we do not obey ourselves also. Therefore, some of our ongoing projects of self-care must relate to autarchy (self-governance, or the art, science, and virtue of self-sufficiency). 

  • In the second field of praxis (meleta “with others of like mind”), we rely on the efforts, wisdom, and example of others, who may also plant seeds in us and become the causes of our happiness, a benefit which we reciprocate. This field includes friendly conversation, the celebration of Eikas, the evaluation of case studies through the framework of philosophy, etc. But in the first field of praxis (meleta by ourselves), we rely on our own effort and we become the cause of our own happiness.
  • Self-care includes all the practices related to moral development (re-habituation, or turning away from vices and towards virtues), study (including the study of the self), memorization, repetition, carrying out our choices and avoidances with the help of the Doctrines, and any other practices of self-cultivation, contemplation, “placing before the eyes” (Epicurean visualization), or meditation that we find to be advantageous for our happiness.

There are many more techniques (like journaling) that could be incorporated into self-care, as well as circumstances (like the pandemic) that pose particular challenges. In the end, it’s up to each individual philosopher to adopt into her hedonic regimen whatever methods work for them. I hope that these initial deliberations help our readers to carefully consider and plan their own process of meléta prós seautón.

Further Reading:

Epicurean ethics as an example of morality as self-care

Victor Frankl and the Search for Meaning

False Dichotomies

We recently read the essay There Are Two Kinds of Happy People, which compares Stoic and Epicurean philosophies. The essay makes some good points (we can borrow from each other yet remain grounded in our own traditions), but essays like this create false dichotomies: you almost never hear people saying “Buddhists meditate and Christians pray, and maybe they should try each other’s techniques“. In reality, Buddhists also pray and Christians sometimes also meditate. The essay assumes that Epicureans do not seek meaning, or create meaning, and it perhaps even assumes that meaning and pleasure are mutually contradictory, but there is no reason whatsoever to think this is the case.

I want to resist the tendency to antagonize Stoics because that produces a situation where it seems like Epicureanism frustrates the search for meaning or the ability for resilience, and that is not at all true. Epicurean philosophy provides various different pathways to meaning and resilience.

He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how. – Nietzsche

I finally recently finished reading Victor Frankl’s book Man’s Search for Meaning, which is highly recommended among proponents of philosophy as therapy for the soul. It argues that human beings require meaning in their lives, and that the best way to deal with boredom, existential ennui, depression, or suffering, is to make it meaningful. He particularly favors three ways of doing this: through work (doing something significant), through loving someone, or through courage during difficulties.

As a psychoanalyst, Frankl proposes “logotherapy” (a therapy of meaning). Our Friend Nathan says:

It’s a powerful story of someone who survives grotesque circumstances. His themes seem to me to be within the existentialist genre, primarily, defining value and meaning in a violent and unforgiving world. He largely demonstrates how having an appropriate mental disposition can help people manage seemingly-hopeless circumstances.

Meaning-making is contrasted with nihilism and a depressing sense of defeat in life. This is from page 72

Regarding our “provisional existence” as unreal was in itself an important factor in causing the prisoners to lose their hold on life: everything in a way became pointless. Some people forgot that often it is just such an exceptionally difficult external situation which gives man the opportunity to grow spiritually beyond himself. Instead of taking the camp’s difficulties as a test of their inner strength, they did not take their life seriously and despised it as something of no consequence. They preferred to close their eyes and to live in the past. Life for such people became meaningless.

This other quote, from the following page (73), reminds us of our past meleta concerning Epimetheus (who only looks to the past) and his brother Prometheus (who looks to the future). To Frankl, redemption is found in the Promethean approach.

It is a peculiarity of man that he can only live by looking to the future. And this is his salvation in the most difficult moments of his existence, although he sometimes has to force his mind to the task.

… which remind me of Epicurean Saying 48:

While you are on the road, try to make the later part better than the earlier part; and be equally happy when you reach the end.

Frankl mentions laughter as a technique, and as a sign that one is healed. In Tending the Epicurean Garden, I mentioned that the Epicureans follow the lineage of the laughing philosophers, and that laughter helps us to feel superior to the thing we are laughing at / about. Frankl says this differently: being able to laugh at yourself and your situation is a sign that you have already begun to overcome.

At one point in page 130, Frankl seems to accuse materialist reductionism of producing nihilism. In Epicurean philosophy we see that that is not necessarily the case. Other materialists may be nihilists, but in our tradition we have methods of drawing values and meaning from the study of nature. Here, he attacks:

the danger inherent in the teaching that man is nothing but the result of the biological, psychological, and sociological conditions, or the product of heredity and environment … This neurotic fatalism is fostered and strengthened by a psychotherapy which denies that man is free.

I applaud that Frankl is drawing a connection between nihilism and materialism, as this is one of the main knots by which people who are suffering entangle themselves into harmful patterns of powerless thinking. To me, this accentuates the need for rejecting scientism (=the “excessive belief in the power of scientific knowledge and techniques“), and for studying philosophy as a separate and equally important field of knowledge alongside science.

“Embracing the Exile”: a Case Study

In my college years when I confided in a University social worker and mentor (whom I greatly respected and loved) concerning my struggles to reconcile my Christian upbringing with my gay sexuality, he kindly lent me the book Embracing the Exile – Healing Journeys of Gay Christians. Back then, this book had a great impact on me, since the religious and psychological abuse of homophobia were strongly imprinted in my mind and affected me in very real ways.

Embracing the Exile is my most familiar case study for logotherapy. It argued that as Christians, gay people should embrace their exile, and carry their particular cross, with acceptance. It also taught that we should love our enemies anyway, regardless of what they do to us or say about us, and it even treats Queer identities as a form of “chosenness” where we are left to make sense of our way of being different. The book meant to soften the passions of a bruised soul, and it succeeded, but in the end, Christianity was definitely not for me. Many LGBT Christians feel that they are able to lovingly engage in LGBT activism, and at the same time confront other Christians with the evil that is done in the name of their religion from inside their churches. I’m torn between my solidarity and support for the struggle of LGBT people who choose to remain Christian, and the need to address the profound epistemological errors (and cruelties) of Christianity.

Embracing the Exile might be particularly helpful for people who might be struggling with suicide ideation, or who have recently come out and who come from a Christian background and are still attached to it, or for LGBT people who wish to return to Christianity. It provides a few “technologies of the soul” for that specific population.

But the book is not without its potential dangers, even if it came from a place of love and sincerity. Church leaders are experts at softening the blows of their emotional and psychological acts of aggression and dressing things that are deeply worthy of objection in the disguise of innocence and sanctity. Furthermore, if we decide that our policy towards our abusers is to “love them anyway”, does this not risk neglecting the possibility of moral development for our abusers? It can be a difficult balance to maintain, particularly when those who are most likely to harm LGBT youth in a church are also the same people who find themselves most entangled in their ideological errors and are least likely to think they might be wrong. The idea of gays embracing Christianity reminds me of a commentary about the colorful cow in Nietzsche’s Zarathustra that I came across recently:

In the town called the Pied Cow, the people are extremely content. They exemplify the concept of decadence. As Nietzsche says in Thus Spake Zarathustra to a citizen of the town of Pied Cow: “thy cow, affliction, milkedst thou—now drinketh thou the sweet milk of her udder.” His language shows that the cow’s milk is pleasurable and sweet, but it is an affliction that causes us to forget our real purpose. It is analogous to soma in Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, an orgasmically pleasurable drug that causes the citizens of a fascist regime to forget their suffering and keep working.

One of the main dangers of the logotherapy approach is that, by choosing a false refuge or a false sense of meaning, we may end up harming ourselves and wasting opportunities for moral reform, freedom, creativity, and true happiness. Meaning must therefore be secondary to our impulse towards truth and towards the sober pleasure that Epicurus mentions in his Epistle to Menoeceus.

Some Epicurean Ideas

Life is not obligated to make sense to us. We are the ones who seek to make sense of it willfully, using our creativity and resources, our art of living (techne biou), and with the help of the study of nature. In this, Lucretius, Epicurus, and others are role models to us.

We are able to create meaning through the process of hedonic calculus: by choosing and rejecting in a manner consistent with our values, our pains or sufferings are redeemed and made valuable by the greater pleasures that they gain.

When I recently shared 3 Brain Systems That Control Your Behavior: Reptilian, Limbic, Neo Cortex, by Robert Sapolsky, our Friend Nathan commented that these three parts of the brain reminded him of “sensations, feelings, and preconceptions”–the three sets of faculties that exist within the Epicurean canon, which are our connection with nature.

The video makes the argument that the most primitive part of the brain (the reptilian part) involves the most basic instincts. This includes the senses, but also the sense of time, the circadian rhythm–a set of faculties that require that animals attune themselves to the day and night cycles, and require cold-blooded animals to regulate their body temperature by various means. Then, our ancestors evolved the mammalian brain, which involved complex fight-or-flight mechanisms, panic instincts, and other powers that Nathan associates with the canonical faculties involved in feelings. The final evolutionary stage is where animals evolved the cortex of the brain that facilitates complex thinking and language. Of all the highest animals (mostly the primates), the humans are the ones who have evolved the most complex “prolepsis” cortex. The parallels noted between the canonical faculties and the layers of brain cortex are interesting, and it had never occurred to me to think of it this way.

I am particularly interested in this third set of faculties in our discussion of meaning because the prolepsis faculty facilitates language, and it seems to me that our discussion of meaning is a discussion of language, and that the creation of meaning is therefore mainly a function of the prolepsis faculty. We are perhaps translating our experiences into something that our rational brains may apprehend, and doing so helps us to process our ideas and emotions.

Seen this way, the thirst for meaning becomes an impulse toward naming our own narratives, our lives, our selves, our relations, our life cycles, the projects that “give” our lives “meaning”, our technologies of the soul, etc. How else do we create meaning? Nietzsche suggested (and I agree) that we may do this through art, poetry, dance, ritual. The technique of relabeling (as we’ve discussed before) is another method for this.

In the search for meaning, it often seems like self-expression has been frustrated and seeks an outlet. The prolepsis of self-expression (Self-Ex-Pression) reminds me of a process of pressing-out parts of the self into some external form. The faculty of prolepsis allows us to clearly conceive an idea, which is necessary in the first place if we are to “press it out” of our psyche. Prolepsis helps us to conceive, which reminds us of seeds, of germination. Conceiving an idea carries creative potential.

Conclusion

Some people say Frankl’s Man’s Search of Meaning is a Stoic book, but it’s more nuanced than that. Yes, Man’s Search for Meaning has a strong Stoic influence. It teaches that the “only” thing that others can’t take away is how we respond to a situation, and focuses on the realm of possible therapies available to someone who is powerless to change their fate. But it also elsewhere criticizes key aspects of Stoicism. In page 56, we find:

The camp inmate was frightened of making decisions and of taking any sort of initiative whatsoever. This was the result of a strong feeling that fate was one’s master, and that one must not try to influence it in any way, but instead let it take its own course. In addition, there was a great apathy, which contributed in no small part to the feelings of the prisoner.

The book is a bit depressing, but this is not necessarily a bad thing, as suffering does have the power to make us better people. My recent anecdote on this has to do with a particular co-worker who for many months did not greet me, or smile at me, or acknowledge me at all at work. Some people (particularly people who have money or power) can afford to be quite stand-offish; others are simply introverted by nature. This co-worker was a cancer survivor and, upon getting a second diagnosis of cancer, he changed. Perhaps he realized that life is short and shifted his conception of the things that matter. He began to greet me with a smile. He became more personal. I think his suffering as a result of his health, and his sense of vulnerability, is what made him a better, gentler, more caring person.

This anecdote confirms, to me, the power of suffering to purify our character–even if we rebel against the idealization and sacralizing of suffering that we see, for instance, in Catholicism.

Frakl says “man is ultimately self determining”, meaning that we are subjects, not objects or machines. One of the main virtues of this book is that Frankl humanizes his patients. He at all times refuses to diminish or humiliate or mistreat his patients. His years of suffering during World War II make Frankl a wounded healer: he had been through hell, and could now help others in a similar situation. For this reason, many people who are experiencing great suffering and who are truly powerless in their situation would benefit from critically engaging the insights of this book.

Further Reading:

Man’s Search for Meaning

 

Happy Eikas: the Method of Multiple Explanations

Happy Twentieth to all! This month, news came out that a skeleton recovered at Herculaneum “reveals secrets of ancient Roman town obliterated by volcanic eruption“. This month, I also found the video 4 Ways To Practice Epicureanism.

The Cārvaka Darshana is a discussion by the Charvaka YouTube channel. The host identifies as Neo-Charvaka and claims that this lineage is as legitimately a part of Hinduism as any other philosophical school, and that if they go to the Indian government with the desire to get organized as a philosophical School, the state should acknowledge their existence as a sect. The Charvakas are a somewhat parallel tradition to Epicureanism which evolved in the context of India. Only fragments of their ancient scriptures survive, and only thanks to the reports of their enemies. Modern Charvaka discourse is greatly influenced by the new atheism, but distinct from it, as it is not an activist philosophy, but rather one of pleasure (kama).

The SNS essay On Immersive Storytelling contributes to the push to decouple myths, art, and ceremony from superstitious trappings and to channel them into ethically useful purposes. It cites Eikas, and also Lucretian passages as examples of how this can be done. Curiously, it seems like our second Scholarch Hermarchus may have initiated the tradition of telling the story of Epicurus as if it was a “legend”:

Epicurus’ life when compared to other men’s in respect of gentleness and self-sufficiency might be thought a mere legend. – Vatican Saying 36, attributed to Hermarchus

That storytelling was part of the education that took place in the Garden is demonstrated by the many anecdotes that Philodemus of Gadara told 200 years later about the lives of the founders. He must have spend many hours listening to these stories.

Multiple Explanations and Hedonic Calculus

For a number of things, it’s not enough to state one cause, but many, of which one would be true. – Lucretius, De rervm natvra, Liber Sextvs, 703-4

Our last Eikas zoom was facilitated by Alan and was titled “On the method of multiple explanations” (an ancestor to modern multi-valued logic). This method was used by Epicurus in his Epistle to Pythocles, where he explained astronomical phenomena.

The idea here is that, in a universe complex enough to have infinite particles and infinite space, it is possible that there are multiple explanations to phenomena and that, so long as these explanations do not contradict each other or the evidence of nature, they can all be true. For instance, weather systems are caused by pressure patterns in the atmosphere, but they’re also part of annual seasonal cycles, and are affected by patterns of rain condensation and by global temperatures. All these things are true and observable simultaneously. Here is how Diogenes of Oenoanda explains the method of multiple explanations in his Epicurean Wall Inscription:

Let us now discuss risings and settings and related matters after making this preliminary point: if one is investigating things that are not directly perceptible, and if one sees that several explanations are possible, it is reckless to make a dogmatic pronouncement concerning any single one; such a procedure is characteristic of a seer rather than a wise man. It is correct, however, to say that, while all explanations are possible, this one is more plausible (πιθανώτερον) than that. – Diogenes’ Wall

During our discussion of the method of multiple explanations, we agreed that this method was mainly a way of gathering and considering plausible hypotheses, without necessarily settling on only one of them as the only explanation. It would be interesting to consider the intersection between the preoccupations that led to the development of the method of multiple explanations and the post-modern rejection of any one single meta-narrative as inherently authoritarian.

One additional note on the method of multiple explanations: it allows for the existence of many fields of knowledge, each with their own rules, methods, interpretations, and ways of understanding nature.

I consider myself privileged in having wise Epicurean friends who contribute to help me gain depth in Epicurus’ teachings. One of those friends is Jason, who during our second dialogue on the Epicurean gods said this:

The Epicurean method of multiple explanations lands squarely on pleasure as the end and aim. It pleases me more to think that humanity is not alone in the universe. It pleases me more to say that the supernaturalists are hurting themselves in their confusion and the only creature worthy of adoration is that which is actually possible, material beings who have shucked off their vices and live like sages. A race of people whose choices and avoidances have led them to perpetual bliss.

This is because Pleasure is the Guide of Life in all our choices and avoidances, including our choice of what to do, what to say, and even what to think. Jason’s reading of the method of multiple explanations as requiring our choice, for which we must use the faculty of pleasure (and dwell on the most pleasant views), aligns with what we’ve discussed before in our meleta on PD 28 and has great potential benefits in the context of a belief system that is advantageous for our happiness. For me, Jason’s words also constituted the very definition of what Zen Buddhists call “satori”: instant enlightenment concerning a key philosophical concept. This is one of the great benefits of practicing “meleta with others of like mind” with our friends for a long time.

Basically, Jason was saying that if many explanations are equally plausible according to our method and based on how far empirical data can take us, then we must be content to make a choice concerning what theory is most plausible to us, which of the theories pleases us the most and adds the most to the removal of our fears and other hindrances to happiness, and this choice of a hypothesis is not without a component of FEELING. If there are several “worlds” we can imagine ourselves living in that are equally plausible, then let us choose the most pleasant one. Let us unhypocritically make the choice to assent to the truths that add the most to our happiness.

This, of course, does not mean that we suspend the importance of empirically based reasoning, as per our canon. Our views must also be based on the study of nature. But we have a limited time and attention span, and not all knowledge adds the same value to us, so we must choose. In a private message, I later told Jason what this brought up for me:

Our choice to follow scientific truth / study of nature, and our choice to follow pleasure, are not mutually contradictory … they’re mutually inclusive in true philosophy according to our Scholarchs. So your way of thinking about multiple plausible explanations, and our eventual choice of the most pleasant, deserves a deeper look.

They say ignorance is bliss. We disagree.

So the key take-away here is that there is blissful knowledge, or at least knowledge that is both correct and worth-choosing, and that the method of multiple explanations can be an efficient means to greater pleasure.

To say that multiple explanations for a phenomenon are all plausible, is perhaps also to say that, within the range of what is naturally possible, some explanations produce greater pleasure than others, or are more important for our happiness than others. So then, pleasure being the Guide of Life, we tend to take refuge in the most pleasant of the plausible explanations as a matter of choice. This is because the goal of our choices and rejections is the pleasures.

If we diverge from either pleasure or scientific truth, we are not practicing what our Scholarchs considered true philosophy. In this way, philosophy to us can be both true and advantageous for our happiness. The point at which the choices of truth and pleasure converge is where we must sculpt our hedonic regimen, our lifestyle, and our beliefs.

The Oshún Mythical Cycle: The Seduction of Ogún

The following is an Epicurean meleta (deliberation or commentary) on an African fairy tale, which is here placed before the eyes and treated as a philosophical parable about Divine Pleasure as the Guide of Life. In this myth, Oshún heroically smears herself in honey and dances seductively in order to lure Ogún out of the jungle and back into civilization, and save human society from collapse.

I’ve heard many Oriki (chants) for Oshún (Yoruba Goddess of sweetness, a form of the Venus-archetype) which I’ve found beautiful and enchanting, but if I was to choose a soundtrack for this essay (after all, Venus is associated with music, art, and aesthetics), I would choose either La India’s prelude to Yemayá y Ochún or, better yet, the magical Mongo Santamaría song Ye Ye.

I was speechless when I found this painting, by Lili Bernard, titled Sale of Venus. It refers to the arrival of the cult of Oshún to Cuba via the slave trade. Here, however, she is syncretized with Venus, instead of with her Catholic aspect as “Our Lady of Charity”.

When we studied the Prometheus myth at Eikas, we discussed a bit about some of the ethical problems related to technology (personified as Hephaistos), when it answers to power entanglements rather than to ethical guidance and personal loyalty. Today, I’d like to discuss a bit about how a parallel character (Ogún, the artisan and smith of the Yoruba Gods) was lured back into civilization by Oshún (the Yoruba version of Venus).

Concerning the archetype of Ogún, the story is that he was one of the first Orisha who made a path through the jungle. He was a scout, a hunter, and a perceptive tracker. But most importantly he “makes a path” where no one else has made a path yet. He is a creative force, and quite introverted by all accounts (even in the Greek version of this archetype, Hephaistos), being quite socially awkward in both traditions, and often preferring to remain in his workshop all day. He is the God of iron, of the forge, and of technology. Without Ogún, Yorubas believe that civilization simply cannot progress.

Yoruba myths are known in Cuba as patakís, and this one is found in this page, although many versions of it exist in oral tradition (and now on YouTube). For reasons explained in other myths, Ogún was “cursed” with constant toil, and part of his social contract involved the demands caused by the societal need for his particular skillset. In reality, Ogún represents men (and women) who are by their natural constitution hard-working and active in productive labor. In the myth, Ogún decided to take a break from all his work. The way it’s explained in the OrishaNet page, he did this because “his heart always remained in the forest”, but some may interpret this as a labor strike; others may interpret this as an episode of depression. This last interpretation is probably the most useful, ethically speaking, and also because when people are depressed they lose the pleasure derived from doing many things, which they normally desire to do.

The point is that “once upon a time” Ogún disappeared from the city and went into the forest, and very soon (since he is the Orisha or spirit of industriousness) civilization came to a halt. No tools can be built without him, since he is the smith. No trains may run. No wheels constructed, and no machines. No one can plow the fields. No construction. There’s no progress, no civilization.

Once they realized that Ogún went into hiding, many of the divine powers tried to convince him to return, but (after a long series of attempts) no one succeeded until a young Orisha, Oshún, offered to try to lure him back into the city. This worried the other Orishas, who did not think she would succeed. However, absent other options, she was allowed by wise old Obatalá (the Orisha of the head, where decisions are made) to go on this mission.

How did she do this? Oshún is the Goddess of sex, an enchantress. By singing and dancing semi-naked, and by seducing and entrancing Ogún with her charms, from time to time pouring honey over herself–and when she saw that Ogún was ogling her, placing some honey on his lips–she slowly got him to move out of his forest refuge and slowly lured him out, danced him out, seduced him out of the forest and back into the city. She probably did this following the path of some spring or river, as Oshún is a river-goddess of fresh waters and her role in the universe is to “cool” the other Orisha and to refresh the world with her sweet waters. The story ends:

And all learned that sweetness (is) sometimes the most powerful weapon of all, and that Oshún was much more powerful than she appeared and was to be respected.

… which immediately reminds me of our meleta on the Lucretian passage where Venus subdues Mars. I must here note a parallel between this patakí and another one where Oshún saves the world once again, this time during times of famine and by bringing rains. In that other myth, we also see that the other Orishas from the onset underestimated Oshún. Stories about Oshún seem to be an ongoing commentary in Yoruba mythos about the status of women, and a warning to not underestimate them but to allow them to be leaders and to prove themselves, because without their gifts there is no possibility of successful human civilization.

That Oshún is sexually emancipated, adds to her role as an empowering Orisha for women. One merely needs to look at the high levels of involvement of women at all levels of society in southern Nigeria, where Oshún is still revered, versus the horrible oppression that women suffer in the Islamic north of Nigeria, where women are constantly targeted for rape, violence, and abduction, and are routinely denied basic human rights.

This might give us some ideas about why Epicurean philosophy was not historically favored, unlike Platonism, Stoicism, and other philosophies. Epicureanism has always suffered the fate of enjoying the same reputation as that of the Goddess of sex and pleasure, who embodies our ethical ideals, and this reputation and respectability greatly diminished under patriarchal hegemony.

Going back to the role of Hephaistos in the Promethean cycle, during our meleta on The Betrayal and Passion of Prometheus, we had discussed:

Hephaistos (The God of Technology) had been closely related to both Prometheus and Athena, and in fact they were all three worshiped together (they are all tied to progress, civilization and science). However, in Prometheus Bound, Hephaistos betrays his friend and–even while expressing sadness for his friend–he’s the one who built the chains and bound Prometheus, against his own will, out of obedience (and/or fear?) of Zeus.

Throughout Prometheus Bound we see Zeus impiously referred to as a tyrant. The ethical problem of blind obedience to tyranny (the problem of the “good German” during the Nazi era), and the remorseless cruelty it produces, is seen in the Prometheus myth.

Hephaistos’ role also raises questions about the ethical utility of science and technology. In Principal Doctrines 10-13, Epicurus establishes an ethical purpose for science, however Prometheus Bound raises questions about what can happen when Technology serves the interests of power rather than ethical values.

In the Yoruba myth, Ogún is set right by Oshun’s sweetness, represented by the honey she smears on herself.

From the perspective of the psychological interpretation, where Ogún suffers from depression, she uses pleasure / honey / sweetness as medicine for depression and heals him.

From the perspective of refusal to work, she made him productive by using the powerful appeal and the seduction of pleasure, of sweetness. She would have made work agreeable.

From the literal perspective, he simply goes back to being himself and performing his role in the world … but what is going on inside? As when I studied Taoism, I am here reminded of Epicurean Saying 21:

We must not force Nature, but gently persuade her.

What were the Yoruba ancestors trying to teach when they articulated this particular myth? Notice the contrast between how the Greeks warned us that Zeus (associated with Power) corrupts Hephaistos, whereas the Yoruba warned us that the Yoruba Venus (associated with sweetness, Pleasure) saves and redeems both the Yoruba Hephaistos and the world.

Power corrupts, but Pleasure saves and heals.

Happy Eikas! On Language, Creativity, and Power

Happy Twentieth to Epicureans everywhere. We are grateful to our friend Alan, who devoted many hours of work to the script and video for Parable of the Hunter, which places before the eyes Epicurus’ Principal Doctrine 5. Please watch, like, comment and share the video. We also published Vegetarianism as a Life Choice for Epicureans, based on our discussions in the Garden of Epicurus group.

We also became aware of the We Are All Epicureans Now episode of “Young Heretics”. He’s not Epicurean, and fails to grasp the idea of pleasure as a faculty, but he does invite people to a deeper study of Epicurean ideas.

This Lucretius lecture by David Goodhew, titled ‘Life, love, death and atomic physics’ was quite enjoyable. It focuses on a few particularly brilliant passages by Lucretius, to show his genius and the many layers of art in his poetry.

I’d like to thank my Patreons Anthony Adams, Steve & Carmel, Roberto Kingsley, Tom Samuels, Ron Warrick, and my dear friend Jason, whose support has been a great morale booster and who has been a steady presence in SoFE for many years. If you’d like to support the work I do, please consider a one-time donation or a Patreon subscription.

On Language, Clarity, and Power

In recent weeks, I had the pleasure of reading The Book of Sh_zd_r, a work by a SoFE member (Nathan) who also authored the Dude’s Letter to Menoeceus, which was published back in May of 2020. He’s also an admin in the Epicurean memes for hedonistic beings Facebook group.

“The beauty of our poetries flows from sincerity” – Book of Sh_zd_r

The book is an artist’s manifesto on the use of language for creative self-expression, and a critical evaluation of the many ways in which language and power are intertwined. This, plus the Hermetic-like undercurrent that runs throughout the work (Hermetic as in the tradition of Hermes, the Divine Scribe), was my favorite part of the Book of Sh_zd_r

The first half of the book is (appropriately) written in a beautiful conlang (constructed language)–an artlang (artistic language) from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings series, and the second half is in English, but still uses multi-colored fonts and other artistic devices. The Book of Sh_zd_r is a work of art, first and foremost.

The latter part of the book includes some musings on grammar, and historical notes that accentuate the connection between power and language. The use of language as art, and the deconstruction of some of the trappings of language and power, makes the work disruptive and subversive. It reminded me of ideas I encountered while reading Black Orpheus and learning about the Négritude movement:

Sartre argues in Black Orpheus that liberating literature for Africans must be poetic, and that prose can’t be used because the French language evolved elsewhere, is too analytical, and can’t express the Black reality and psyche well. There are also the problems of inherent bias: we see examples of how whiteness is associated with innocence and virtue, while Blackness is associated with brokenness or with crime, with being soiled (so that Sartre says that “As soon as (the Black man) opens his mouth, he accuses himself“). Language is power, and Négritude calls for the wielding of power by these “Black Evangelists” to make the French language theirs and make it express the Black reality–so that Sartre says that “to build his truth, (the Black philosopher-artist) must first destroy others’ truth”.

Relabeling: a Technique of Empowerment

One of the therapeutic practices in Epicurean tradition is that of relabeling (renaming, or re-categorizing). In modern psychotherapy, this is sometimes known as cognitive restructuring, and is used together with other techniques to help people diminish their catastrophic or harmful thinking patterns.

Relabeling is an empowering practice whose power dynamics becomes most obvious when seen in action and placed before the eyes. For instance, Lucretius uses this technique to take back power when passionate love has power over him (or perhaps over some other patient of passionate love). We must imagine that, in the initial stage, the patient would have felt crushed and overpowered by his infatuation with the object of his desire or passion, but through re-labeling said object in many unflattering ways and re-imagining it as ugly, old, dirty, smelly, or with other undesirable attributes, the passion subsides and the patient slowly regains power over his mind, emotions, and states.

That (re-)naming is an act of power is an ancient idea that mystified many ancient peoples. Ancient Egyptians believed that hieroglyphs had magical power because they are “words that stay”, and they divinized the concept of magical words in the deity of magic, Heka (who represents words of power). Later, authors of the Bible attribute the power of naming all the animals and all of nature to Adam, the mythical first member of the human species, so as to say that this linguistic faculty of naming is one of our “superpowers”. But we do not need to be mystified by the power of language, simply to understand it and to employ it for our ethical purposes.

“Leaving the Chorus”: the Doctrine of Hesuchia

Principal Doctrine 14 gives us another layer of commentary on the relationship between language and what Foucault would have called pervasive, or dispersed, power:

Although some measure of safety from other people is based in the power to fight them off and in abundant wealth, the purest security comes from solitude and breaking away from the herd.

Here, Peter St. Andre translates hesuchías (ἡσυχίας) as “solitude” (I may have translated it as “retreat”, since this is the same word used in orthodox Christianity for the tradition of the desert fathers), and he translates exchoréseos (ἐκχωρήσεως) as “breaking away from the herd”. But let us look at the prolepsis of this last word: it implies exiting or leaving (ex-) the chorus.

What is a chorus? A chorus is a group of people who (in theater, or in some event) are all saying the same thing in unison. The implication is that all the members of the chorus think alike, so that “chorus” comes to imply convention and peer pressure, as well as the erasure of the individual and his private ideas. “Exiting the chorus”, in this context, means leaving the power dynamics of societal peer pressure, and not blindly repeating what others are saying–or taking it as truth–until we have chosen and applied the criteria for truth to those propositions. It means thinking for ourselves, rather than being circus seals trained to clap mindlessly as part of the show.

Doxa 14 is the first of three Doctrines that focus on autarchy (15 focuses on economic autarchy, and 16 on existential autarchy). It sets the stage for these other two Doxai by inviting us to separate ourselves from the crowd, and it cites safety as one reason for this. Now, we all have to give up some level of personal sovereignty in most of our relations and in the execution of our responsibilities, but by expressing their invitation to avoid giving up our autarchy in terms of exchoréseos in a Doctrine that introduces autarchy, the founders are inviting us to a more dignified life of self-sufficiency and self-rule by specifically evading the power dynamics that are expressed verbally and collectively, which are represented as “a chorus” (a group of drones that all think and say the same thing).

The “diffused power” in the chorus is expressed via language, and in concrete words. The chorus represents here the degrading loss of our safety and personal sovereignty, and so leaving it is a pre-requirement for our enjoyment of a dignified level of autarchy and for our ability to free our practice of philosophy from the demands of the polis and of mindless collectives. There is a different type of safety in being part of “the herd” (as we see in nature), but this safety is accused as false and degrading by this Doctrine.

Philosophy requires withdrawal from “the crowd” so that we may be able to think for ourselves rather than blindly repeat what people in our social circles are saying (and blindly believing the underlying and expressed premises of whatever they are saying). By virtue of PD 14 being an authorized Doxa, the founders were saying that this act of autarchy, of personal sovereignty, of “exiting the chorus”, is necessary for the practice of philosophy.

But if we are robbed of our power by the collective voice of “the chorus”, this also seems to imply that we retain, regain, and express our power by the willful and skillful use of our individual voices. So I believe this Doctrine means (among other things) to restore our voice (which is to say, our authority) as individuals who enjoy autarchy / personal sovereignty.

Meleta on Definitions

At the Society of Epicurus, we’ve been delving into in-depth meleta (study and deliberation) of the forty Principal Doctrines of Epicurus for months, and deriving great pleasure from the new insights we have gained.

I noticed that when one reads the 40 Principal Doctrines systematically, the very first thing one finds in the very first words of the very first Doctrine is distrust of words. The editors of the Doctrines chose the definition of “gods” (immortal and blissful animals) for the sake of clarity, rather than the word “gods” to convey their meaning.

This is because we sometimes do not trust words as much as their clear definitions.

This issue of mistrusting words is one of the first problems addressed in Epicurus’ Epistle to Herodotus (beginning from Fragment 35 of Book X of Laertius’ Lives of Eminent Philosophers), where he instructs his disciples to always clearly define words prior to any philosophical investigation in order to avoid being carried into error by the use of empty words. 

The founders sometimes found words that were simply inadequate, and felt the need to reform their expression for the sake of clarity in their study of nature. They had a practice of re-defining words according to the evidence of nature, so that their expression would always be aligned with nature. We know, for instance, that the Epicurean Guide Polyaenus wrote a treatise “On Definitions” which is not extant, and one of the 37 books On Nature by Epicurus is titled “Against the use of empty words“. Here, it is revealed that Metrodorus and Epicurus had been discussing the best rules by which it is possible and advantageous to re-define words, with Epicurus insisting that using common words as they are commonly used is the best policy, although they had gone back and forth over the years on this, and Epicurus in this book admits that his thinking has evolved on the matter. The ancient Guides’ preoccupation with the adequacy of language, and insistence on clarity, was not unique. Two millenia later Wittgenstein (who championed and insisted on clear speech) said:

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

The second and third phases in the evolution of language, according to Epicurean anthropology, is where philosophers, inventors, cultural creatives and others coin new words and lead the ongoing process of rationally perfecting the shared language. Wittgenstein says that each language, dialect or jargon is a “game” into which are embedded rules and notions that act as a social contract for the users of the language. We could say much more about this, but we risk going on a tangent, and this deserves a separate discussion.

And here is the intersection between the worries of the Kathegemones (Epicurean Guides) and these considerations concerning the entanglement of language and power: was clarity the only criterion in language reform? Can we identify clear patterns in whatever confusing tendencies were they fighting in their native Greek language? Were they fighting Platonic, or political, webs of power that had gotten entangled in common (koine) Greek language?

To what extent might it be advantageous and practical for modern speakers of English, Spanish, and other languages who practice Epicurean philosophy together to go through a similar process of purging or perfecting our own languages, for the sake of clarity–the only rhetorical requirement we have–and in order to embed and will our own social contract into our jargon?

From the third stage in our doctrine on the evolution of language, we know that the founders believed that philosophers have to be actively engaged in the natural and inevitable process of language evolution, otherwise the vehicle of expression will always be mediocre and the utility of language will be limited. The fact that they established this Doctrine, we imagine, served to justify their linguistic projects, which meant to purge their language game of unwanted traits and steer it in an ethically correct and choice-worthy direction. I imagine they did this, concretely, through a slow and organic editorial process that involved all communication and content, since they were always known to be careful in their expression.

But, did the founders create a basic naming language, a type of conlang (as some modern Epicureans have speculated) made up of a small number of concepts that were unavailable in the culture? Or did the Guides simply coin a few expressions and words? Since language is inherently communitarian and collective, I wonder to what extent they saw these projects as a natural extension of their self-concept as a sect, as an ethically and culturally autonomous philosophical tribe with its own mores.

Did clarity become the only requirement in our rhetorics after failed experiments to communicate efficiently, or was it so from the onset? How did this preoccupation with clear speech evolve? We know that Epicureans were known for their suavity, or sweet speech, as well as their clarity and conciseness, and that this served their ethical purposes. Are there any additional criteria for perfecting our communication?

From reading Epicurus’ insistence (in “Against the use of empty words“) that people should use common words as they are commonly used, we may infer that he believed that some of the other Kathegemones may have previously gone too far in their language-reform experiments. However, it is difficult for us today to gauge exactly the extent to which Epicureans reformed koine Greek.

In our circle, we have for many years discussed the need for taking back words that have been monopolized by Christianity and other Platonized religions and ways of thinking (words like gods, soul, salvation, virtue), and we’ve discussed the inadequacy of some words, and whether we should use Greek terms that are obscure, or words from our own language. When I wrote Tending the Epicurean Garden, my editor insisted that I coin an English translation for katastematic (I ended up coining the term “abiding pleasure” for the book), and to avoid obscure Greek terms in general. Curiously, Epicurus himself might have agreed, since he established clarity as his only rhetorical criterion.

In recent years, there have been efforts from some feminists, and some in the LGBT community and allies, to reform English to make it more gender-neutral and to move away from patriarchal language conventions. Many Churches and synagogues are moving towards gender-neutral language for God. English is a great language for this, since–unlike Semitic and Romance languages–it does not use gendered nouns. These efforts are, to some extent, praise-worthy (and also natural, because language naturally evolves) … but they also reach what some of us may consider ludicrous excesses, and make it seem prudent to be pragmatic and generally conservative in our efforts to perfect our native languages.

Further Reading:
Wittgenstein: A Wonderful Life (1989)
PHILOSOPHY – Ludwig Wittgenstein
The Book of Sh_zd_ar

Vegetarianism as a Life Choice for Epicureans

What follows is a recent discussion on vegetarianism as a life choice for Epicureans. Please read Hermarchus on the Ethics of Vegetarianism and Treatment of Animals for context.

Hiram. We’ve been wondering what thoughts people have on vegetarianism from an Epicurean philosophy perspective.

Ron. If death is nothing to us, it is nothing to the animals. However, they are sentient beings and while they are alive they deserve from us a pleasant life.

Lena. I think being involved in animal slaughter is a harm for the people involved. We can make this better by improving conditions for animals and people, but the physical and emotional danger to us must be part of the calculus.

Eileen. I don’t recall him ever saying killing is nothing, though. Epicurus believed we are not unique among the animals. Since we wouldn’t want to be killed, I can imagine he might think we should forgo killing them, especially since we can be healthy as vegetarians. I assume he was aware that people can be vegetarians because there were some in ancient Athens in his day. Maybe I’m assuming too much.

Anthony. I think as in all things hedonic calculus needs to be performed. In some situations, such as human starvation or malnutrition, there is less pain if the human, who has the blessing and curse of foresight (knowing they will starve to death or at least suffer much pain from hunger and malnutrition), the killing of an animal for food in my opinion is an obvious choice. I believe eating fish and insects may be more morally acceptable as those animals, as far as I know, are less aware of their fate and so have less anxiety about death.

Is it not natural and correct for the individual to first consider their own essential needs before another’s as we who understand nature would expect others to do?

Hiram. I suppose a more scientific approach to this from an ethical perspective that takes into consideration how much pleasure vs pain our choices and avoidances generate is to think in terms of the neural complexity of the creature that we kill for food. This has always seemed intuitively correct to me: like you said, a cricket is much less complex in his neural system than a cow or pig, and therefore getting protein from them is less cruel. I think the amount of unnecessary suffering generated is part of what generates discomfort and guilt in us.

Lena. Some Jains don’t eat potatoes because it destroys too many microbes, and I’ve seen an argument that the push to farm insects as protein isn’t a moral improvement over current livestock, because the quantity of lives and suffering would become so significant.

Hiram. The Epicurean Scholarch Hermarchus seems to be putting forward ecological management arguments in the cited article. If too many of certain creatures breed they should probably be eaten. On the other hand many species of fish will be depleted by 2050 because of over-fishing and will likely become protected species soon.

Matt. The best advice on this subject I ever have heard came from a Theravada Buddhist monk…though he himself was a vegetarian living in Sri Lanka, he admonished others that took a position that vegetarianism is the “correct” thing to do. He would say that Buddhists living in places where it is inhospitable to grow crops like Tibet and Mongolia … those monks must subsist on meat and dairy in lieu of a strictly vegetarian diet. So it can’t be a universal precept. It may be right for an individual but it can’t be proclaimed as universally orthodox since there are societies that have been subsisting on animal products since time immemorial and the reasoning has to do with necessity.

I have also made serious attempts to be vegetarian in my life, specifically when I adapted to a Hindu/Eastern philosophy years ago. I find the reasoning within eastern philosophy to be pretty flimsy, based on metaphysical idealism that doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. I have finally settled on the fact that meat eating is good for me, as a personal position. I have hunted and I have killed animals before for food and I am comfortable with this decision from an ethical perspective, even if I don’t personally kill the animal that produces the meat I consume or my family consumes on a regular basis.

Si. Personally I think that looking at what you eat and why is a part of the analyzed life. The industrial meat industry is a lot different than in the Hellenistic era. So even if Epicurus has the occasional meat, it’s very different now. With environmental considerations as well as ethics, I personally made the choice to be vegetarian and move towards having a mostly plant based. I try and cause as least pain as possible in an imperfect world.

Marcus. Evidence points to the ancient Epicureans being flexitarians, eating meat on occasion but mostly encouraging vegetarianism as healthier. Desire for meat was considered natural but not necessary.

Beryl. Biologically we have the dental apparatus of omnivores therefore we have adaptations to eat everything. That is our true nature as human beings. I have worked in medical research and seen the morally corrupting influence of using animals as vessels for our own natural urges and unnatural urges and interests Killing does seem to change people and reduce their empathy for living things. I turned my back on this type of medical research in my twenties viewing it as barbaric and pollutional for me.

Shahab. I think our nature or our natural body is more adapted for consumption of plants, rather than meat. Historically, people used less amount of meat. Eating meat was considered to be ceremonial, and somehow, a privilege for kings and their courtmen. Moreover, maybe by comparing the shape of our teeth to other non-human animals we can draw the conclusion that we are less adapted to eating meat than to plants.

Plus, the veganism is a modern subject, or let’s say, a reaction to the modern problem of over-production of meat, and kinds of diseases related to over-consumption of meat, and also the development of ethical framework which takes non-humans as subjects of ethical discussions.

When I remember my own childhood, or see other children’s affection toward animals, and their deep opposition to killing them, I can draw the raw conclusion that beside eating meat, killing animals regularly and on a mass scale is an outright deviation from our nature.

Hiram. Philodemus says that people who suffer from chronic, out-of-control rage are “like wild beasts”. Similarly we could argue that people who enjoy causing suffering to innocent animals are also “like wild beasts”, and that they remain in a wild, pre-civilized state. Whenever a creature complains or cries while being mistreated, it is understood that the animal is not giving its consent to how it’s being treated, that some form of communication of denial of consent is being given. Therefore, the act is unjust (as per Doctrine 32), and if animals have to be slaughtered for food, they should be killed in the least painful way possible.

Matt. This particular study shows evidence that human evolutionary progress was the result of an exceptionally high protein diet. Even our facial structure has been changed. Early humans have gone through multiple phases, but the reality is that humans have in fact had high protein diets in prehistoric times and even today. Agriculture is a fairly modern invention in the history of humankind. Human biology shows evidence that early humans became what we are now from a divergent lifestyle of pure herbivory.

This is not a condemnation of Vegetarianism or Veganism on philosophical or health grounds. I believe that a person chooses that lifestyle for many good reasons. I cannot say the vegetarianism of the Hindu Indian is ethically more correct than the traditional heavy protein rich diet of the Inuit in Nunavut. Both lifestyles arose organically and are currently being practiced, and there are many, many cultures that fall in between these two extremes that also arose entirely organically.

Beryl. I attended a conference six years ago now which looked specifically at new diagnostic methods to link human genome to food benefits with many researchers saying that individual diets for health optimization were being developed, so I agree what is natural and necessary for one person is not natural or even healthy for another. Ultimately hedonic calculus helps to determine the actions that make one healthy bodily and psychologically and which cause oneself and those about us least suffering.

Ultimately though I do believe we must evolve to develop greater empathy and connection with our fellow species on this planet and to step aside from our egotistical drives for survival which are now hurting vast swathes of the world’s populations and is causing global temperature. There are 7 billion of us on the planet and some animal species are down to their last 50 individuals. As an individual, I am starting where I am, taking responsibility for what I do and influencing where I can. I am not wedded to that though. If our species died out then that would mean nothing to me, however the future suffering of the upcoming generations does trouble me and perhaps that’s a topic for further discussion sometime.

Nate. If it works for you, it works for you. Nature gave us a variety of teeth, a variety of micro-bacteria in our guts, and a variety of digestible items in our environments from which to choose. It would be odd for an omnivorous, opportunistic mammalian species to exhibit anything less than diversity in diets.

Second Dialogue on the Epicurean Gods

This discussion, which is edited from our Garden of Epicurus FB group discussion on the Gods, is a follow-up to similar discussions from previous years. You may read Dialogues on the Epicurean Gods, the essay For there ARE Gods and Principal Doctrine 1: On the Utility of the Epicurean Gods to be appraised of the controversies. You may instead watch this short video, which summarizes the matter.

This is the second Dialogue on the Epicurean Gods that we at SoFE edit for publication, in order to further clarify our ideas about the subject for the benefit of present and future students.

Second Dialogue on the Epicurean Gods

Alan. Unfortunately, even recently, and in spite of progress in the study of Epicurean philosophy, Epicurus has still been stubbornly regarded as an atheist: yet anyone who believes this has not taken Epicurus’s texts into consideration and refuses to recognize the decisive role that theology plays in Epicurus’ system. Those who think Epicurus was an atheist would do well to meditate carefully on a passage in Philodemus’ De pietate, where, making due allowance for its apologetic purpose, the philosopher from Gadara furnishes an important piece of information:

“those who eliminate the divine from existing things (tōn ontōn) Epicurus reproached for their complete madness, as in Book 12 (sc. of On Nature) he reproaches Prodicus, Diagoras, and Critias among others, saying that they rave like lunatics, and he likens them to Bacchant revelers, admonishing them not to trouble or disturb us.” – Oxford Handbook of Epicurus and Epicureanism, Theology

Hiram. It’s curious that he compares them negatively to the Dionysian revelers, because the word he used for his ambassadors was “kathegemones” (=guides), and the priests of Dionysus (at least in the city of Pergamon) were also known as Kathegemones. It seems like he wanted the Epicurean Guides to model themselves, in some way, after Dionysian priests. It seems from this quote that the type of “guiding” that these priests did was very different from the mysteries of the Maenads.

We should ask ourselves: Why would Epicurus choose to name his representatives after Guides of a mystery religion? In what way is the role of the Epicurean Guides supposed to be similar to that of the Dionysian guides (even if in other ways the cult of Dionysus is worthy of objection)?

Alan. That’s an interesting question. I’ll let you know if the Oxford Handbook has any insight on it. There is a portion of the theology chapter on the topic of ‘Epicurean priests’.

Marcus. Yes, there were Epicurean priests! Ancient polytheism was no monolith.

Hiram. I don’t have that book so look forward to your report on that. I’m very interested in what that chapter says.

Epicurus establishes, according to Philodemus’ Peri Eusebeias, a cognitive purity code (he says: “Believe anything of the gods so long as it doesn’t violate their incorruptibility and blessedness”), so the role of the “reformed” faith with Epicurean priests would have been, in part, to ensure that this doctrinal purity code was applied while carrying out whatever their religious techniques were.

Alan. Here’s what they have to offer:

“Epicurean Priests

Given this picture [of the intense Epicurean critique of providential order in the universe], and in view of the latter position in particular [that followers of Epicurus are exhorted to revere the traditional gods but stripped of their Homeric qualities], it will come as no surprise that there are attested (especially through epigraphy) Epicureans in priestly offices. We limit ourselves to noting: (1) Tiberius Claudius Lepidus (second century ce), an important representative of the Epicurean community in Amastris, a coastal city in Paphlagonia, who was priest and head of the College of Augustales in charge of the imperial cult (see the testimony of Lucian of Samosata in his Alexander or the False Prophet); and (2) Aurelius Belius Philippus, who in an inscription (dated to the time of Hadrian or a little later) appears as “priest (hiereus) and diadochus of the Epicureans in Apamea.” As one may readily imagine, the question is as delicate as it is controversial, and hence widely debated. One plausible answer—which takes account, on the one hand, of the blessed and incorruptible life that is led by the gods and, on the other hand, of the Epicurean rejection of any divine activity and, connected to this, their denial of providence and of prophecy—may be found in the idea that the gods are models or regulative ideals to which all people (but especially the sophoi, the wise “friends of the gods”: see the third passage of Philodemus, gathered under Usener 386) should (or at least try to) conform.

Maintaining that the gods are models does not at all mean diminishing the role that they play, especially if we bear in mind that “conforming” in this world and to the extent possible to the blessed and perfect life of the gods is not an “ideal” undertaking, lacking any relation to reality. The conclusion to the Epistle to Menoeceus invites the addressee (who is simultaneously individual and general) to meditate on the central ethical issues in the letter; in this way it will be possible to avoid perturbation and to live like a god among men (hōs theos en anthrōpois), and thus to achieve in practice the highest realization of happiness (eudaimonia). We find the same idea expressed in the Epistle to Menoeceus also in Lucretius, where he affirms that it is not impossible, here and now, to lead a life like that of the gods (Lucr. DRN 3.322: dignam dis degere vitam).

The expression employed by Epicurus in the letter is quite strong and, if Epicurean theology has any meaning at all, it should be found just here in the conclusion to the Epistle to Menoeceus: to live like a god among men means to envision divinity not as something distant (although it is so, in fact, from a strictly physical and local point of view) and so insignificant, but rather as representing a practical possibility of realizing here and now the ideal of life proposed by Epicurus and of attaining happiness in a lasting way, enjoying in this life (the only one we have) pleasure (understood as the absence of pain: cf. Ep. Men. 131). Thus, the role played by the gods cannot be other than ethical, and it is significant that Epicurus very likely again justified this “function” in physical terms.”

Hiram. Ok, so this is only tangential: priests here is “hiereus”, and also these are priests outside of the Garden who happened to be Epicurean, not the “Kathegemones” that he instituted … except for Aurelius Belius Philippus.

Michael. For what it’s worth, Kathegemon is a pretty general word. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have religious overtones generally.

Eileen. Lucretius often uses the gods’ names metaphorically so I’m not sure that we should assume a belief in literal gods. But even if we do, what is the relevance of gods that don’t pay any attention to humans? Who can’t be propitiated or angered by anything we say, do, fail to say, or fail to do? Functionally speaking, this outlook strikes me as no different from atheism.

Alan. You may also find an answer to your question in the Oxford Handbook.

“Clearly, one place where someone might push the Epicureans’ theory is on the question of why they are so confident that some of their views, for instance in atomism and in theology, are not similarly susceptible of multiple explanations. The threat to their atomist theology seems especially strong, as Seneca was to insist in defending the providential and teleological views of Stoicism. But Epicureans were adamant in maintaining their view of anthropomorphic gods that are physically incorruptible, live in a state of psychic blessedness, and have absolutely no concern for human beings. This latter claim opened them to the charge of atheism from early on, and along with their denial of the immortality of the soul, was a key reason why, unlike Aristotle and Plato, Epicureanism seems to have completely disappeared from the Islamic and Byzantine philosophical traditions. Interestingly, Epicurus held up the life of the gods as an ethical model in many areas of his philosophy (e.g. friendship) and insisted that mortals can aspire to similar states of untroubled blessedness, all the while emphasizing our mortality and the fact that after our deaths we will be nothing.”

And elsewhere:

“Alongside the passages from Cicero and Lucretius, we may add an important text of the middle Platonic philosopher Atticus, recorded by Eusebius of Caesarea (des Places fr. 3 p. 48.63–65, ap. Eus. PE 15.5.7 = Usener 385), who deemed the absence of providence in Aristotle more impious than the same doctrine in Epicurus. In this passage, Atticus writes that, according to Epicurus, human beings derive a benefit (onēsis) from the gods: their better emanations (beltionas aporrhoias) are accessory causes (or “co-causes”: paraitias) of many good things for those who partake of them. Atticus is right not to attribute to the Epicurean gods any “pure” or “absolute” causality—that would result in a patent contradiction with Epicurus’s philosophy—but to speak more modestly of “co-causes” or paraitiai, although in the Epicurean tradition itself there are not lacking those who regarded the divine nature as a cause. This is the case with the Epicurean Polyaenus (Tepedino Guerra fr. 29) who, in the first book of his On Philosophy (Peri philosophias), maintained, according to what Philodemus reports in the De pietate, that the divine nature (theia physis) is the perfect cause (autotelousan . . . aitian) for us (hēmin) of the greatest pleasures (hēdonōn tōn megistōn). In any case, Atticus reports that the better emanations of the gods (the reference is, of course, to the divine simulacra) are able to provide a benefit, that is, a profit directly bound up with that imperturbability that the gods enjoy eternally and which, for those who adopt the philosophy of Epicurus, is an actual and real possibility that they are called upon to realize in practice, if they wish to achieve a truly genuine and lasting happiness.

On the basis of Atticus’s testimony and the other parallel sources, the veneration of the gods acquires an ethical value of the highest order, even as it coexists with the inactivity of the divine and the absence of providence. The simulacra of the gods, then, bring benefits, and thus to participate in prayers and in religious ceremonies (cf. Diog. Oen. fr. 19 II 6–11 Smith) means to “interiorize” in an effective way the (pleasurable) divine simulacra and to put into practice the commitment to become like a god among men.

In this sense, the gods are not only ethical models and regulative ideals, introduced by Epicurus solely in order to render his philosophical system consistent with his recognition of beings that are eternally and genuinely imperturbable. Epicurus’s gods also become figures highly relevant to our ethical life, playing a role that is at least indirectly active (although without any deliberate intention on their part), in virtue of the benefits that their simulacra bring us in practice on the not always easy road toward assimilation to god (homoiōsis theōi), which has a Platonic pedigree (cf. Theaet. 176a–b) but is totally of this world and bounded by the limits of this life. This is why, in Epicurus’s philosophy, veneration (sebasmos) of the gods is often confused with veneration of the Epicurean sages (at the head of the list are the kathēgēmones or andres of the Kepos: Epicurus, Metrodorus, Polyaenus, and Hermarchus), as happens, for example, in the anonymous treatise on ethical matters contained in P.Herc. 346.”

And another:

“Epicurus’s and the Epicureans’ interest in theology and their admission of the existence of divinities is indeed well attested in Epicurus’s own fragments and in Philodemus (On Gods 3, col. 10.34–38). Epicurus thinks that simulacra come to human beings from the divinities, composed by finest and subtlest atoms, which constitute a “quasi-body,” endowed with a “quasi-blood.” These simulacra come from the intermundia and can reach humans while they are awake and while they are asleep; thence comes the human notion of the divinities, a “clear” or “manifest” (ἐναργής) pre-notion.

Due to the fineness of those simulacra, human beings cannot grasp them by means of their sense-perception, but by a representative intuition of their mind (ἐπιβολὴ φανταστικὴ τῆς διανοίας). Pre-notions of the gods are common to all human beings, independently of their culture and race. Epicurus even produces a proof of the existence of the gods in Usener 352, preserved by Cicero ND 1.16.43, who translates πρόληψις by anticipatio: the very universality of these pre-notions of the divinities proves the existence of the gods.

Another way to arrive at the deities, according to Epicurus, is by inference: on the basis of the principle of isonomia or equivalence in the universe, human beings in the world(s) must correspond to the same number of divinities in the intermundia. The loss of atoms due to the continual emanation of simulacra is compensated by an uninterrupted inflow; this is why the deities are never destroyed (Cic. ND 1.19.50, 39.109): they push away destructive atoms (Arrighetti fr. 183). 28 The gods not only exist, according to Epicurus, but they are also models of happiness, and therefore they serve as ethical models for human beings.

However, since their perfect happiness rests on their ataraxia (Arrighetti fr. 184), 30 they cannot care for humans and their vicissitudes. Hence the Epicurean doctrine of the absence of providence and of teleology, as well as the denial of Fate and divination.”

Hiram. Some perspective: Epicurus always employed clarity in his speech, so when he says at the closing of Menoeceus that we will live like immortals among mortals, he must have placed before the eyes of his disciples the lifestyle and life state of these immortals, what their relations are like, what their blissful lives are like. He would not have used empty words. So this contemplative exercise has an ethical and educational utility. Regardless of an individual’s stance on either of the three interpretations of the Epicurean gods, a sincere student should not dismiss the intended utility and medicine of the First Doctrine, or his ethical education will be incomplete. (In LMenoeceus this is mentioned first among the elements of right living, so placing this before our eyes if of great importance).

Richard. Did Epicurus believe that he and his followers could become immortal?

Hiram. No. Epicurus taught his followers that immortality, for us, is neither natural nor necessary. So for example Philodemus said we should try to be harmless like the gods and imitate their blessedness “insofar as mortals are capable of doing so”. They’re just ethical models that point to the highest standard of living that is naturally available to sentient beings. We can also think of them as an early example of science fiction, since we don’t believe in the supernatural. Sometimes I think of religion as art, and gods / imagery in religion as poetry. In fact, the word for placing before the eyes in modern Greek (“visualization”) is optic-poeisia, which sounds like optical poetry.

Richard. I couldn’t agree more. So, when he used the word ‘immortal’, he wasn’t literally saying, “We can be immortal”, he was using the word in a poetic, open-minded way, to invoke ideas. I would suggest that he could have been doing the same with the notion of ‘divine natural beings’. I’m not saying that he did; I don’t know. But I see no reason to be negative towards someone who sees it this way.

Hiram. If you read Peri Eusebeias by Philodemus (“On piety”) you see that their level of sophistication in speculating about extraterrestrial life is considerable. There, Metrodorus seems to have been entertaining an idea of a colonial organism being godlike and potentially immortal. Our theology is basically science fiction.

Alan. If we ground ourselves in historical context, all of the players who considered Epicurus an advocate of atheism were his detractors from neo-Platonism, Stoicism, and Christianity, etc. Nobody in this group minds if any of us today profess atheism. It is totally compatible with our expanded interpretation of Epicureanism that unshackles itself from the most dogmatic ancient version of itself. What doesn’t really seem up for debate, and what both the quoted scholars and the consensus here now support, is that an innocent/non-cynical/non-malicious, plain-faced reading of the Epicurean sources indicates that Epicurus wasn’t an atheist. “For gods there are, our knowledge of them is clear” are not the words of an atheist.

We can never know, as the above quote admits, what Epicurus’ secret thoughts were. However, there is a methodology, grounded in textual analysis and exegesis, for establishing what positions ancient authors held. All we have to characterize Epicurus’ beliefs are the texts, which incontrovertibly lead us to the conclusion that he believed in gods and wasn’t an atheist by the contemporary historical understanding of the word. (And, if I myself would say publicly “there are gods, our knowledge of them is clear” yet privately considered myself an atheist, in the sense of ‘there are no gods’, then someone would be correct to label me insincere.)

Now, if we want to argue that, using the modern understanding of the word ‘atheist’ as someone who rejects the God of traditional theism, Epicurus could effectively be an atheist, well, that’s possible but it would be an anachronistic characterization and we’d really just be debating semantics and the modern definition of atheism at that point (something Epicurus wouldn’t want us to waste our time doing, hence his proleptical definition of gods as ‘immortal and blessed beings’). If that still doesn’t clear up our misgivings then I would direct you to VS 62 and would request that we turn this conversation around for the sake of fostering good will.

Hiram. It is the official position of the SoFE that the atheist interpretation is one of the three acceptable opinions that we may hold today and still be part of the SoFE. But it’s another thing to say that Epicurus held this view secretly, which raises questions about his character and the character of his friends that we have no reason to raise based on what we know, particularly considering that Epicurus himself called several atheists, by name, Dionysian revelers, and had to defend himself from their insults and attacks. So we may be atheists, but we’re not historical revisionists. It’s possible to state that _Epicurus_ held the realist view and that _we_ hold the non-realist or atheist view.

Theodorus “the Godless” was not an atheist in the modern sense also, or even in the ancient sense (in spite of the epithet he was given), in fact he was more like Epicurus 🙂 and Epicurus’ theology is said to be based on Theodorus’ doctrines. This is why we should invest less passion in this subject, because our definitions of gods and of atheism are different from theirs back then. That’s why the founders used the definition of the gods rather than the word “gods” in Principal Doctrine 1: they trusted the definition more than the word, which would have been misinterpreted. In the Theodorus essay I say:

“Diogenes Laertius claims that Epicurus took most of what he said about the gods from Theodorus the Godless, who apparently wrote a scroll (lost to us) titled “On the Gods”. His later followers, the Theodorans, were known for their polemics and attacks on other philosophers.”

Richard. Out of curiosity, if Epicurus was alive now and still held to his position of ‘advanced natural beings’ elsewhere in the universe, would you call him an atheist?

Hiram. Yes. If he was alive today, his theology would be considered science fiction and/or astrobiology.

Richard. So, even though his naturalistic views haven’t changed, you wouldn’t see him as an atheist because he lived in the past?

Hiram. I’m not as concerned about adopting the atheist label as you seem to be, although I am one. Your question was a hypothetical, saying: “IF Epicurus lived TODAY”. If that had been the case, my opinion is that he would not have been calling his theory theology but astrobiology.

But since he lived 2,300 years ago, he called it theology, as speculation about alien life was not mainstream and seems to have been limited to the atomists. So he found the words in his culture and used them. Gods were the denizens of heaven (today it might be angels maybe, and in fact there are Christians who theorize that angels are our “big brothers” in other planets).

Matt. I usually stay away from the gods discussion, since that is what originally caused me depart from the Epicurean discussion groups a few years ago. This topic is probably one of the more divisive ones and often generates significant commentary … which amazing since so little is known about the fullness of Epicurus’s theology. The Epicurean gods, no matter how you slice it, are VERY different from most other deities whether Greek, Hindu, Northern European or Middle Eastern in their role and lack of administration. Someone coming from a modern Islamic or Hindu background (as an example) would find the ideas to be rather alien. It may have been an easier transition for the pagan believers of that era to accept Epicurus’s ideas as opposed to modern religions today that have very specific qualifications as to what a god is or is not.

Alan. The common thread among other religions’ ideation of divinity is in their willingness to intervene on behalf of humans and participate in their events. That is a commonality that you could easily draw between the Homeric gods of Olympus and the Hindu pantheon. (So the purified gods of Epicurus would likely have seemed as foreign to the Greeks as to Hindus if they could have heard his message). The error in all of these ‘religios’ would be that their assent to the idea of interventional gods ultimately results in paranoia and fear, preventing ataraxia. It seems established beyond a doubt (by consensus of academic scholars of Epicurus and by our own koinonia, or tradition of practitioners) though that the study and integration of theology was necessary for the moral development of followers of Epicureanism.

Matt. I very much agree. The issue of intervention is one of the lynchpin issues I think that really drove the wedge between the theology of Epicurus and the religions of the time. In many of these religions, God is known by his positive or cataphatic qualities and acts with energy, and is a causal agent. Whereas, EP’s divinities are not, even though they are “real” but hold no administration. This is why it is so difficult to convince a religious person who holds the truth of the divine to be one that god acts and is the cause, that EP’s gods are relevant.

For the pagan of that time, it probably was an easier transition. It wasn’t a terrible leap to see the gods as inaccessible role models that sacrifices were made to in the temple. The pious continued to be pious by making propitiations that may or may not ever be answered.

But for the zealous Christian, who believed Jesus was God incarnate and performed all that was written and testified about him, would find Epicurus’s position to be a dressed up form of atheism, from a deeply theological perspective. The Christians of the time would’ve found more similarities in Stoic and Neoplatonic concepts, and used their philosophical attacks on Epicurus as their own … though even Stoicism and Neoplatonism themselves weren’t safe or off-limits for condemnation from some apologists.

This is why the Al-Ghazalis and Tertullians railed against all forms of Greek philosophy, not just Epicureanism….in fact Epicurus wasn’t even the main person being attacked or even thought of.

Alan. My ultimate intended point here was just that we should not be afraid or intimidated by the anticipated difficulty of the discussions that attend and surround issues of divinity, especially in this group. Those with an open mind, who are soft rather than rigid, will be able to hear what is being said and evaluate for themselves the utility of its integration.

David. There are many who feel a genuine need for a god figure in their lives. When studying, what are often alien cultures and beliefs, they try desperately to weave a god figure into that which they are observing.

Alan. The projection of human frailties on the divine is one of the first errors made by the impious.

Hiram. But humans also project their strengths and faculties on the Gods, so Epicurus May have been saying “we should not force nature but gently persuade her” as in VS 21, and taming this tendency to extract ethical utility.

David. As a Taoist I can totally agree that we should not force nature, I can even go further and say the very idea of forcing “nature” is preposterous.

Alan. By what means they acquired the attributes of indestructibility and immortality, I do not know.

Michael. I’m not aware of anything on the creation of the divine. Demetrius Laco, in the treatise called “sulla forma del dio” (“On the Shape of God”) by its Italian editor, seems to try to explain their indestructibility and immortality as a result of their very fine atomic constitutions, but the text is badly damaged and it’s not clear how exactly that’s supposed to work.

Marcus. Based on everything I’ve read from ancient sources and scholars, it seems like the early Epicureans were never the victims of accusations of impiety and were more criticized for their hedonism. By the time of Philodemus and Cicero, Epicureans were being accused of atheism which led to philosophers like Philodemus to defend Epicurus’ piety as he does in On Piety.

I guess the relevant debate for modern Epicureans is less about the existence of the gods and more whether or not Epicurean religious practices today can be of any psychological benefit, as Epicurus thought. After all, Buddhist meditation is connected to all kinds of superstition and can still be beneficial to people. Could Epicurean exercises of contemplation of divine beings as models of perfection (even if imaginary) be of any use?

Michael. I think not just the religious practices, however they’re understood, but also the community around them is important: if nothing else, church services and Epicurean feasts on the 20th are both social, communal gatherings. There’s importance in that as well.

It certainly seems that for Epicureans, the gods did serve mostly as an ideal, that’s true. But it also doesn’t mean that they didn’t exist. We have an awful lot of description from Philodemus about them (e.g. they speak Greek to each other, are friends, and have no desire to commit adultery) and Demetrius Laco seems to tie himself into knots trying to explain the physics of their bodily constitutions. (A die-hard believer in the “thought-construct school” could dismiss that as later Epicureans misunderstanding Epicurus, but that seems pretty difficult to me.)

Alan. To add more context to this conversation, the text in the Handbook after the Philodemus quote continues:

“The passage in Philodemus constitutes a further argument against the hypothesis that the Epicurean gods were projections or mental constructs: it would be illogical and indeed inconsistent to treat the gods as thought constructs and at the same time reproach atheists for their denial of the real existence of divinities.”

So it seems that the ancient Epicureans would have rejected the atheist and idealist interpretations and instead insisted on the realist interpretation.

For a treatment of how the Epicureans justified their knowledge of the gods (remember the letter to Menoeceus: “For the gods exist (theoi men gar eisin): our knowledge of them is evident (enargēs gar autōn estin hē gnōsis)”), let’s examine this passage from the Handbook:

“Epicurus’s and the Epicureans’ interest in theology and their admission of the existence of divinities is indeed well attested in Epicurus’s own fragments and in Philodemus (On Gods 3, col. 10.34–38). Epicurus thinks that simulacra come to human beings from the divinities, composed by finest and subtlest atoms, which constitute a “quasi-body,” endowed with a “quasi-blood.” These simulacra come from the intermundia and can reach humans while they are awake and while they are asleep; thence comes the human notion of the divinities, a “clear” or “manifest” (ἐναργής) pre-notion. Due to the fineness of those simulacra, human beings cannot grasp them by means of their sense-perception, but by a representative intuition of their mind (ἐπιβολὴ φανταστικὴ τῆς διανοίας). Pre-notions of the gods are common to all human beings, independently of their culture and race. Epicurus even produces a proof of the existence of the gods in Usener 352, preserved by Cicero ND 1.16.43, who translates πρόληψις by anticipatio: the very universality of these pre-notions of the divinities proves the existence of the gods. Another way to arrive at the deities, according to Epicurus, is by inference: on the basis of the principle of isonomia or equivalence in the universe, human beings in the world(s) must correspond to the same number of divinities in the intermundia. The loss of atoms due to the continual emanation of simulacra is compensated by an uninterrupted inflow; this is why the deities are never destroyed (Cic. ND 1.19.50, 39.109): they push away destructive atoms (Arrighetti fr. 183). The gods not only exist, according to Epicurus, but they are also models of happiness, and therefore they serve as ethical models for human beings. However, since their perfect happiness rests on their ataraxia (Arrighetti fr. 184), they cannot care for humans and their vicissitudes. Hence the Epicurean doctrine of the absence of providence and of teleology, as well as the denial of Fate and divination.”

So there are three arguments outlined in support of the real and clear existence of divinities, in descending order of importance:

1) The self-evidence (enargeia) of the simulacra or eidola that emanate from the quasi-bodies of the divine in the metakosmia, striking us while awake or sleeping. The atoms of their emanations are so fine as to be imperceptible to our senses, but graspable only in prolepsis.
2) An appeal to the universality of the prolepsis of divinity (is this not similar to the argumentum ad populum?)
3) The isonomic (iso=equal, nomos=law) argument, a kind of analogical inference based on the tendency of nature to produce uniformity. Isonomic arguments are also how the atomists justified the innumerable worlds doctrine.

… Would you reword the Letter to Menoeceus (the only complete work on ethics remaining in Epicurus’ own words) or just not accept the treatment of the gods contained in it?

Richard. I would place it in the context of the time. “Our knowledge of them is evident” seems a direct contradiction of Epicurus’s position about knowledge.

Jason. Inference carries great weight in the pleasure principle. We only study nature to decrease fears about the unknown. It is easy to reject gods wholecloth today with the effective separation of church and state. Religion is a private matter. Not so in Epicurus’ time. One was expected to participate in public ritual or face exile. There is little existential motivation to square one’s disbelief in the supernatural with continued participation in public worship today if you are a naturalist.

If we start from first principles and explore the universe in our minds, as we know Epicurus did in the descriptions we have of his volumes On Nature, we might arrive at the same sort of conclusion that Carl Sagan did. Superior beings must live in the universe and to call them superior to humans they must have none of our vices and all of our virtues. Take this as close to perfection as you can conceive in a material universe and you have natural gods, the only creatures worthy of the name in a material universe. Carl Sagan was a huge advocate of adding a contact mandate to SETI because he believed that any alien race capable of contacting us MUST be superior to us in just about every way. He’s the reason for the golden plates on the Voyager probes.

Epicurus arrived at their “existence” the same way we arrive at the existence of aliens today. Given the vastness of space and time, it is a certainty that they exist. A universe without them would be preposterous. If we maximalize an alien race’s bliss, they would appear god-like to us as Epicureans and would be worthy of admiration. Admiration of the good is a pleasant activity and can have a blissful effect on the one who practices it regularly.

Richard. Carl Sagan also thought that it was possible that we are the only intelligent life in the universe, as we could be the first or the last. We just don’t know. We have no knowledge of such a species.

Alan. Jason, this is an excellent rendering of the isonomic argument for the existence of gods, a line a reasoning Epicurus himself likely used. The way you present it makes it sound more compelling than at first it seemed (in the Handbook, they only presented it as inferred by analogy that because there are so many humans, there also must be so many gods, which I think doesn’t bring the full force of the atomistic cosmology to bear on the subject.) In an infinite universe with unlimited arrangements of matter within, we can conceive of such arrangements as would produce beings sufficiently advanced from us as to be indistinguishable from the divine, to put a spin on Clarke’s aphorism.

Jason. And you have extended it beautifully with your twist on Clarke. A worthy addition to the modern meleta on the gods.

The Epicurean method of multiple explanations lands squarely on pleasure as the end and aim. It pleases me more to think that humanity is not alone in the universe. It pleases me more to say that the supernaturalists are hurting themselves in their confusion and the only creature worthy of adoration is that which is actually possible, material beings who have shucked off their vices and live like sages. A race of people whose choices and avoidances have led them to perpetual bliss.

Supernatural gods don’t exist. Epicurus was explicit that belief in them is impious. We don’t have his book On Gods but we can take a stab at what it might have contained given the fragments we have available to us. Our arguments might not be convincing but I’m certain Epicurus’ were, given how widely they were adopted, even into the priesthood of Herod’s temple.

Michael. As for your two, an argument from the consensus omnium (“Agreement of everyone”) and one from the prolepsis can look awfully similar, even though only the second really has probative force for Epicureans. But if everyone believes something, there’s likely to be some kernel of truth in it somewhere.

(Dirk Obbink (yes that Dirk Obbink) has an article in Oxford Studies in…1992? 1992-ish?…about arguments from the consensus omnium in Epicureanism and other schools.)

Alan. To be clear, are you saying that there is a distinction between a consensus omnium with regards to divine prolepses and the informal fallacy of argumentum ad populum? If we are relying on an appeal to a universal consensus to establish the real existence of something, it seems to be a rather weak argument (at least by the standards of empirical evidence that we are accustomed to employing in other areas of investigation).

Michael. No, I’m saying that the consensus omnium, in its pure form, simply is an argumentum ad populum, but that because of the way the prolepsis works (i.e. that it is universal, at least within a culture), it takes some careful phrasing or interpretation to tell an appeal to the prolepsis from an appeal to a consensus omnium. An appeal to a prolepsis is, after all, an appeal to something that *everyone* has in their head (a belief or idea or something like that, depending on what you take a prolepsis to be).

Jason. Dirk’s article is really quite good reading and clears up a LOT of misconceptions about Epicurean prolepses of the gods. Thanks for the cite , Michael. Cicero is the cause of a lot of confusion for earnest learners. Philodemus was right to condemn the lawyers.

Michael. Yeah, there’s a reason he’s had the career he’s had.
We have to use Cicero carefully: he’s usually polemical, and he’s usually writing for Roman beginners as well, whom he hopes will graduate to reading the originals in Greek. But he does have a good eye and sometimes lands a criticism or preserves a point of doctrine we wouldn’t otherwise know about.

Richard. So it’s possible to believe in more advanced life forms elsewhere in the universe AND be an atheist, right?

Alan. Yes, sure. You can reasonably hold both views.

Hiram. At SoFE we accept all three interpretations as legitimate. The founders were realists, but today Epicurean theology falls in the realm of Sci fi and speculation about astrobiology.

It is one thing to say Epicurus believed in the realist interpretation … it is a different thing to say that we believe in the same interpretation. We can have the second or third view while recognizing he adheres to the first. What we at SoFE are saying is that all three could be justified as reasonable by reasonable people.

Richard. If he saw ‘gods’ as another natural species somewhere else in the universe, was he really talking about ‘gods’ as most people would understand the word, or is he just redefining them as a get-out-clause for any accusation of heresy?

Hiram. This is an accusation–that he was insincere–made by anti-Epicureans, that we do not endorse.

If you read Epicurus’ sermon “Against the use of empty words” (or watch our youtube video on it) you’ll see that the Epicureans (like the Confucians) have a method of redefining words according to the study of nature, so that the words would be as closely aligned with the objects of our investigation as was empirically possible. THIS method was used by the first Epicureans with regards to the gods.

So the gods of supernaturalism became natural beings, the most blissful beings in the cosmos that the Epicureans were able to imagine based on their methods of studying the non-evident based on that which is available empirically.

If you read the wording of the first Principal Doctrine, you will find that the words used by the founders are not “the gods” but “blissful and immortal beings”–they use the Epicurean DEFINITION of the word “gods” instead of the word, which I think accentuates the fact that they trusted their DEFINITION of the word more than the word itself. They didn’t trust that the word accurately conveyed what they meant, so they used instead the definition. This was an ongoing issue with this and many other words, as we see in “Against empty words”. I think this attests to the fact that part of the way in which Epicurean theology came about was by attempting to apply their rules on redefinition of words according to nature to the word “gods”, so as to demystify the word and purge it from its supernatural trappings. If you consider this, you’ll begin to see some of the value that some of us see in this Doctrine.

Richard. Why would it be a problem for Epicurus to be an atheist? It all points to him not believing in ‘gods’ as most theists would define them. Why is that an issue?

Hiram. Epicurus was saying these ARE the real gods, the only gods that nature may produce. There was a _legitimate_ interest in the question of what is the life form with the highest quality of life in the cosmos, because this points to the highest ethical model achievable naturally.

Alan. Why does one have to believe in supernatural deities to be a polytheist?

As Hiram just explained, to cut the ambiguity away, Epicurus appeals directly to the proleptic intuition about the nature of the divine, giving them three essential attributes: that it is a zōion or a living entity, incorruptible (aphtharsia), and blessed (makariotēs) (which is even higher than eudaimonia).

It seems you are walking closely by Posidonius’ anti-Epicurean argument, explained in the Handbook:

“According to Posidonius, Epicurus was an atheist because at bottom he did not believe in the existence of the gods; if Epicurus allowed that the gods existed, he did so solely for the sake of convenience, that is, to deflect hostility and in particular the accusation of atheism from himself. It is obvious that Posidonius’s testimony is polemical and malicious in respect to Epicurus; but Posidonius expresses in nuce the basic features of Epicurus’s bad reputation in matters of theology, which, as we have said, were to cast a long shadow well beyond the chronological limits of the ancient world. It is obviously impossible to determine whether Epicurus, the “coryphaeus of atheism,” as Clement of Alexandria dubbed him (Strom. 1.1), was at heart an atheist; nevertheless, it is certain that, basing ourselves on what his texts say, Epicurus believed firmly and with conviction in the existence of the gods.”

The consensus is that upon taking the Epicurean texts innocently and sincerely, the only possible reasonable conclusion was that Epicurus did believe the gods to be real. Any suggested secret convictions or deception could cast into doubt the sincerity of Epicurus’ entire salvific project.

*

Closing on an intellectually humble note, we share a quote by the Guide Philodemus of Gadara from his scroll On Piety:

“It would be fitting to describe all men as impious, inasmuch as no one has been prolific in finding convincing demonstrations for the existence of the gods” – Philodemus of Gadara

Further Reading:

For there ARE Gods

Dialogues on the Epicurean Gods

Principal Doctrine 1: On the Utility of the Epicurean Gods

Happy Eikas: Prometheus Unbound

Happy Twentieth to Epicureans everywhere! The book Epitome: Epicurean Writings is now available in paperback. It’s a collection of the main writings of the founders with some commentaries by myself. Ancient Epicureans always carried a Little Epitome (The Letter to Herotodus, included), and later graduated to more advanced content. The SoFE Epitome is meant to replace the utility of those ancient works for a modern reader. More literary updates:

Unbinding Prometheus

“It is unworthy of the truthfulness of a philosopher to use fables in his teaching.” – Colotes, a first-generation disciple of Epicurus

I am writing this in refutation of Colotes and in the tradition of Lucretius, who would strongly disagree with Colotes. In the past, I’ve written about the myth of Venus as an ethical guide. This Twentieth, it was my turn to facilitate the Eikas zoom discussion, and I chose to discuss the myth of Prometheus, re-interpreted from an Epicurean perspective. Here are some highlights:

The Fire-Giver

Fire is associated with civilization, creativity, and enlightenment, as opposed to uncivilized wilderness. In fact, fire scares wild beasts. It also helps us to cook, gives us warmth during the winter, and serves as a ritual technology.

Epimetheus and Prometheus

Prometheus’ name means Forethought or Foresight, whereas his brother’s name (Epimetheus) means Afterthought, or Hindsight. It seems like Prometheus is meant to represent progressive, future-looking Prudence, while Epimetheus represents the regressive mentality that looks to the past.

All creatures sense their powers and how to use them. – Lucretius, in Liber Qvintvs

Epimetheus gave animals their faculties, but forgot to include humans, therefore Prometheus endowed humans with civilizing gifts. In this story, we are reminded of Lucretius’ arguments (against creationism) that faculties arise blindly (in hindsight, or as non-guided legacy from the past through evolution by natural selection), and are only later utilized and refined by culture.

A Promethean View of History

Prometheus (as the instinct for progress) helped the Olympians against his own people, the Titans. He hated tyranny and helped to castrate and depose Uranus. He also participated in the rebellion against Chronus, and held inside him knowledge of who would eventually replace Zeus (the Orphics believed Bacchus would eventually sit on the right side of the throne of Zeus as co-ruler, but we know that Christians eventually appropriated this theme).

When given the opportunity to release the name of who would replace Zeus in exchange for his liberty, Prometheus refuses. It seems like his knowledge that the current regime would be replaced was enough to give him mental resilience through his trials.

The Bull Sacrifice Scene

Prometheus tricks Zeus out of the better part of his sacrifice, but this is also the foundation myth for how all sacrifices were made in ancient Hellenistic religion, and established a new ritual order. The Olympian cult was Promethean in origin.

Yet who but I assigned clear rights and privileges to these new deities?” – Prometheus

What does this mean? It indicates a strong tension, from the outset, in Hellenistic culture between humanist tendencies and fear of the gods (or of the political and social powers that wielded these gods).

This reminds me of the Lucretian image (in Liber Primvs) where religion is trampled underfoot by mortals thanks to philosophy. The moral of the story is that religion should serve the people who utilize it, their communities, and their shared projects. It must serve humans, never the other way around. In the case of the bull sacrifice, the meat went to the people, and the bones and fat went to Zeus.

The Betrayal and Passion of Prometheus

Hephaistos (The God of Technology) had been closely related to both Prometheus and Athena, and in fact they were all three worshiped together (they are all tied to progress, civilization and science). However, in Prometheus Bound, Hephaistos betrays his friend and–even while expressing sadness for his friend–he’s the one who built the chains and bound Prometheus, against his own will, out of obedience (and/or fear?) of Zeus.

Throughout Prometheus Bound we see Zeus impiously referred to as a tyrant. The ethical problem of blind obedience to tyranny (the problem of the “good German” during the Nazi era), and the remorseless cruelty it produces, is seen in the Prometheus myth.

Hephaistos’ role also raises questions about the ethical utility of science and technology. In Principal Doctrines 10-13, Epicurus establishes an ethical purpose for science, however Prometheus Bound raises questions about what can happen when Technology serves the interests of power rather than ethical values.

A Herculanean Task

Hercules is the only one who is able to save and liberate Prometheus. This may indicate that liberating our Promethean instincts and potentials is a Herculanean task. It may also be indicative of the legacy of future generations, since Hercules is a son of Zeus: frequently the following generation inherits the sins or mistakes of the previous generations, and must atone for them.

Additional Notes

When Zeus tried to destroy the entire human race–as happens in the Bible–it is Prometheus who saves humankind from total annihilation.

“Power” is personified in Prometheus Bound as a character (or a choir) that is ever-present and/or on the sidelines, or in the background. This is a theatrical device to help us imagine that the structures of power are ever-present, and that this is part of the psychological background for the Prometheus myth. Perhaps these structures of power are embodied in royal servants, or in the mobs or groups of people who enforce conformity.

There are many other ethical and philosophical points that can be made about Prometheus (he has particular moral flaws and undergoes psychotheraphy while bound; he must tame his eagerness and zeal; and provides insights into Principal Doctrine 4 and on mental endurance while suffering in the flesh). The myth is an interesting exploration of many issues concerning power, the importance of choosing our battles wisely, the different types of ethical challenges that come with looking to the past versus looking to the future, and other philosophically interesting questions.

Please leave your comments below, or join us at the Garden of Epicurus FB group for further discussion. Also, please consider supporting me on Patreon if you like the content that we’re creating at SoFE. It’s good for my morale, and it keeps the Promethean fire of Epicurean philosophy burning!

Further Reading:
Prometheus Unbound