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.

PD 1: On the Utility of the Epicurean Gods

That which is blissful and immortal has no troubles itself, nor does it cause trouble for others, so that it is not affected by anger or gratitude (for all such things come about through weakness). – Principal Doctrine One

Epicurus applied epilogismos (empirical thinking) to all things, even the gods. In thinking empirically about the gods, he specifically considered their role as witnesses to our oaths–which is why Philodemus equates piety with justice in his scroll On Piety–, Epicurus saw how oath-breakers are treated by the community, so that the gods seem to embody the collective memory, traditions, choices and avoidances, and norms of the tribe. Gods (or rather the social group, through invocation and use of its gods) have the “power” to bring specific curses and blessings, which may at times be specified in the social contract of the community. I should clarify that this is not a supernatural power, but rather a social function.

For instance, if you vow by Athena to be loyal to a friend, and then you turn around and betray your friend, many sincere worshipers of Athena will consider you cursed because you will have blasphemed Athena. They may have, as a community, ways of dealing with oath-breakers that are unpleasant, as a way of discouraging oath-breaking. We see in many modern religious communities that oath-breakers and apostates are often banned from their Mormon, Muslims, or other religious communities. As central symbols of tribes and communities, we see that the gods function as their unifying symbols that add coherence and stability to communities.

The Letter to Menoeceus says that gods make us feel “familiar” to them as a result of sharing similar virtues as they have. This “filial” (familiar) model of Epicurean piety has been distinguished from the “servile” model of vulgar piety that we see elsewhere.

We may view the gods and the practices concerning them as instances of (individual or communal) self-expression and reminders of our highest values.

The Epicurean gods also invite us to ask what kinds of sentient beings would be WORTHY of everlasting happiness, of immortal bliss, and also of immortality–which is a quite different question from the ontological station of the gods.

Therefore the Doctrine of Epicurus concerning the gods must be studied in terms of its utility so that, even if we do away with the Epicurean gods, we still have a clear grasp of their utility in their original context, and we may seek alternate ways to fulfil that same utility and possibly experiment with a non-theistic religiosity. I have speculated that this religiosity can perhaps focus its piety on the healing words of true philosophy, rather than on the gods.

A non-theistic Epicurean religiosity is a worthwhile project, however, a part of me still wonders if, by neglecting the moral tasks posed by the Epicurean gods, we’d be neglecting crucial exercises for the soul’s “muscles”, and whether we harm our moral development by ignoring the utility of the gods.

The Imaginary Friends Argument

Imaginary friends are often cited as a metaphor by atheists who wish to ridicule vulgar religiosity, but the “imaginary friends” metaphor actually may yield important insights concerning religiosity and should be treated as a legitimate ethical and anthropological argument. 

Children have imaginary friends, which are sort of familiar spirits to them, and this is considered a normal part of childhood. This is probably because they are developing social faculties. I imagine it’s like a computer that has the program to update itself: the child’s brain is learning and processing for the first time complex social interactions, which give him skills necessary for adult life. The child must learn communication skills, and even subtle social cues. Perhaps imagining friends helps the brain to learn and practice these social skills in the initial stages of social development.

The Utility of Piety

Honoring a sage is itself a great benefit to the one who honors – Vatican Saying 32

This issue of the utility of piety is a separate question from the nature of the gods, even if related. But in what way do we benefit when we honor or respect something? Epicurus said piety had psycho-somatic effects: that it may help us to cultivate pleasant dispositions in the body and mind.

Piety can make us feel happy, attached to something wholesome and familiar, and can help us feel healthy and mentally strong.

Piety can also feel like a great peace, because we are being just whenever we honor our covenants of loyalty, friendship, or filial love, and one is genuinely happy when one hears the name of a loved one, and is reminded of that love. This sweetens life, is pleasant, memorable, and makes us happy.

Piety, if sincere, feels like reverence, which ennobles if the thing revered is worthy. When such piety feels like familiarity, filial, we may say that we share part of our (mental and bodily) identity with the thing revered, otherwise it would not feel familiar. The Epicurean Doctrines may also gain familiarity through acquaintance, repetition, and memorization.

When we observe the psycho-somatic effects of piety in us, we have clear, direct insight about its benefits, which justifies “faith” not in gods or in anything external to ourselves, but in the memorized Doctrines and their power and medicine in our soul.

Living Like Immortals

In the third book of De Rerum Natura, Lucretius praised the words of Epicurus saying: “like bees, we sip their nectar”–as if from flowers in a meadow–and that they’re “golden, ever worthy of immortal life”. In this way, he compared the Doctrines to ambrosia–the nectar of immortality.

Lucretius was conveying that the Aurea Dicta (the “golden words” of true philosophy) help us to live like immortals, and to feel as if we are surrounded by immortal goods. This is because these words point to all the things that make life worth living, and so the diligent study of the Aurea Dicta is the most advantageous activity for our happiness. But bees drink nectar in order to make honey: the idea of imbibing Epicurus’ words is to produce sweetness, pleasure.

Epicurus would not talk about living like immortals, as he did in his Epistle to Menoeceus, if he had not first placed before the eyes of his disciple, in clear detail, just what it means to live like an immortal.

Living like an immortal implies various things. Epicurus describes the gods as indestructible and forever happy. These are the only two religious taboos he gave us. He said we may believe anything about the gods so long as we do not blaspheme their immortality and their constantly blissful state of sentience. We are left to fill in the blanks.

This must mean that the gods are envisioned as sentient beings, since only such beings are able to experience constant pleasures. Living like an immortal implies that the pleasures that we experience are all of a higher nature, that we become resilient, indestructible, and transcendentally happy. Living like gods also implies an art of living, a methodology for living, a lifestyle, or a cultural expression which is modeled by our Epicurean narratives about the gods.

It can be dangerous to remain unaware of what gods, guiding values, and beliefs we have set for ourselves. Unanalyzed praise can sometimes degrade a soul, sinking it in unwholesome association. Epicurus invites us to consciously create our values in this manner, and to observe the pragmatic results of this ethical exercise in our own bodies and minds

The Future Self

This task may remind some of Nietzsche’s Overman. This is because the utility of the gods and the utility of our narratives about our own future are, in some ways, similar.

Just as we feel rooted in our past when we revere our ancestors, we also anchor our selves in the future when we revere our gods. There is a progression in time between these two cosmological imaginaries: the one (usually) below our feet in the graves of our ancestors where we are rooted like trees, and the one (usually) in the heavens towards which our instincts of freedom and creation inspire us to advance and evolve. Perhaps we subconsciously intuit our evolutionary advance from a less-evolved past to a more-evolved future, and this finds expression in these two forms of piety? We naturally (and perhaps subconsciously) seek to imitate and to become like the things we deify or idealize. The future Self has to be conceived and imagined so clearly, that it feels within reach. Thinking about our future self is, in itself, ethically useful if done right.

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. – Vatican Saying 48

The Letter to Menoeceus teaches that the future is partly ours and partly not ours. This means that we have causal responsibility for a portion of our destiny, of our future self. Concerning what this portion entails is a matter of great importance for our happiness and for our moral development. The favors we do to our future self give us hope in our future pleasure, stability, and confident expectation that we will easily secure our needs.

Exercise: Envision Your Gods

If we were to set up an existential task, or “a homework”, related to Principal Doctrine 1, it would be to place before our eyes: to clearly imagine, in detail, the lifestyle of the gods. This is a visualization exercise–which could be done in the form of journaling, if we are not very good visual thinkers.

I recently shared the Isle of the Blessed passage from Lucian’s comedy True Story. Since it depicts a paradise of pleasure, one worthy of Epicurus himself (whom Lucretius makes a resident there), the Isle of the Blessed might be a good example of a type of exercise similar to envisioning the gods, that we may draw inspiration from.

Since the Epicurean gods of the realist interpretation are what today would be considered extraterrestrial super-evolved animals, some of our readers may wish to draw inspiration from the emergent field of astro-biology. I have speculated that any creature that feels perfectly safe and invulnerable (as the gods do) would have to evolve in an ecosystem that has an extremely high level of symbiosis (that is, cooperation rather than competition) between creatures.

“Sculpting” our gods (or “imagined persons” if we are non-realist about them) in our minds, and putting before our eyes their activities, pastimes, narratives, opulences, pleasures, qualities, values, and attributes may serve as a good point of reference to help us to sculpt our own characters and lifestyles. In this way, we gain a clear conception in our minds of how to live a godlike lifestyle. 

Envisioning the gods is an exercise in ethical self-creation, and in character-building. It’s a reflection on the quality of life that the highest form of sentient being in the cosmos would have. How would we live if we were to imitate their godly lifestyle? That is part of the utility of the Epicurean gods.

Finally, I wish to stress that this exercise is useful and has educational value even if we believe that our gods are imaginary: they can still be our lifestyle-models, who point us in the direction of the healthiest and happiest way of living.

The usefulness of this exercise is increased if we include concrete details concerning the aromas, tastes, architecture, fashion, and mental and emotional states of our gods. This is what we mean by “placing before the eyes”–a practice used by the Epicurean Guide Philodemus, and by Epicurus himself in his Letter to Menoeceus. In this way, we move from the abstract to the concrete, from the Platonic realm to the real and tangible world.

Further Reading:

For There ARE Gods …

Dialogues on the Epicurean Gods

 The Isle of the Blessed

Isle of the Blessed

The following is the “Isle of the Blessed” portion of Lucian’s True Story, which is available in its entirety at Gutenberg.org. True Story has continued relevance to our generation because it is a parody and commentary on “fake news”, on popular resistance against empirical thinking, and on people’s frequent inability to discern truth from falsehood. 

The King of the Isle, Rhadamanthys, was believed to be the Underworld judge of the souls from the East (due to being famed for his inflexible integrity), and Lucian was making an ethnic joke here concerning his own eastern/Syrian origins. Although this work is a comedy, it’s not without educational value. In it, Lucian places before our eyes an Epicurean paradise, complete with a city of Seven Gates and the Elysian fields.

Within a while after many islands appeared, and near unto them, upon our left hand, stood Phello, the place whereunto they were travelling, which was a city seated upon a mighty great and round cork. Further off, and more towards the right hand, we saw five other islands, large and mountainous, in which much fire was burning; but directly before us was a spacious flat island, distant from us not above five hundred furlongs: and approaching somewhat near unto it, a wonderful fragrant air breathed upon us, of a most sweet and delicate smell, such as Herodotus, the story-writer, saith ariseth out of Arabia the happy, consisting of a mixture of roses, daffodils, gillyflowers, lilies, violets, myrtles, bays, and blossoms of vines: such a dainty odoriferous savour was conveyed unto us.

Being delighted with this smell, and hoping for better fortunes after our long labours, we got within a little of the isle, in which we found many havens on every side, not subject to overflowing, and yet of great capacity, and rivers of clear water emptying themselves easily into the sea, with meadows and herbs and musical birds, some singing upon the shore, and many upon the branches of trees, a still and gentle air compassing the whole country. When pleasant blasts gently stirred the woods the motion of the branches made a continual delightsome melody, like the sound of wind instruments in a solitary place: a kind of clamour also was heard mixed with it, yet not tumultuous nor offensive, but like the noise of a banquet, when some do play on wind instruments, some commend the music, and some with their hands applaud the pipe, or the harp. All which yielded us so great content that we boldly entered the haven, made fast our ship and landed, leaving in her only Scintharus and two more of our companions behind us. Passing along through a sweet meadow we met with the guards that used to sail about the island, who took us and bound us with garlands of roses (which are the strictest bands they have), to be carried to their governor: from them we heard, as we were upon the way, that it was the island of those that are called blessed, and that Rhadamanthus was governor there, to whom we were brought and placed the fourth in order of them that were to be judged.

The first trial was about Ajax, the son of Telamon, whether he were a meet man to be admitted into the society of the Heroes or not: the objections against him were his madness and the killing of himself: and after long pleading to and fro, Rhadamanthus gave this sentence, that for the present he should be put to Hippocrates, the physician of Cos, to be purged with helleborus, and upon the recovery of his wits to have admittance.

The second was a controversy of love, Theseus and Menelaus contending which had the better right to Helen; but Rh ad am an thus gave judgment on Menelaus’ side, in respect of the manifold labours and perils he had incurred for that marriage’ sake, whereas Theseus had wives enough beside to live withal—as the Amazon, and the daughters of Minos. The third was a question of precedency between Alexander, the son of Philip, and Hannibal, the Carthaginian, in which Alexander was preferred, and his throne placed next to the elder Cyrus the Persian.

In the fourth place we appeared, and he demanded of us what reason we had, being living men, to take land in that sacred country, and we told him all our adventures in order as they befell us: then he commanded us to stand aside, and considering upon it a great while, in the end proposed it to the benchers, which were many, and among them Aristides the Athenian, surnamed the Just: and when he was provided what sentence to deliver, he said that for our busy curiosity and needless travels we should be accountable after our death; but for the present we should have a time limited for our abode, during which we should feast with the Heroes and then depart, prefixing us seven months’ liberty to conclude our tarriance, and no more. Then our garlands fell off from us of themselves, and we were set loose and led into the city to feast with the blessed.

The city was all of gold, compassed with a wall made of the precious stone smaragdus, which had seven gates, every one cut out of a whole piece of timber of cinnamon-tree: the pavement of the city and all the ground within the walls was ivory: the temples of all the gods are built of beryl, with large altars made all of one whole amethyst, upon which they offer their sacrifices: about the city runneth a river of most excellent sweet ointment, in breadth an hundred cubits of the larger measure, and so deep that a man may swim in it with ease. For their baths they have great houses of glass, which they warm with cinnamon: and their bathing-tubs are filled with warm dew instead of water. Their only garments are cobwebs of purple colour; neither have they any bodies, but are intactile and without flesh, a mere shape and presentation only: and being thus bodiless, they yet stand, and are moved, are intelligent, and can speak: and their naked soul seemeth to wander up and down in a corporal likeness: for if a man touch them not he cannot say otherwise, but that they have bodies, altogether like shadows standing upright, and not, as they are, of a dark colour. No man waxeth any older there than he was before, but of what age he comes thither, so he continues. Neither is there any night with them, nor indeed clear day: but like the twilight towards morning before the sun be up, such a kind of light do they live in. They know but one season of the year which is the spring, and feel no other wind but Zephyrus. The region flourisheth with all sorts of flowers, and with all pleasing plants fit for shade: their vines bear fruit twelve times a year, every month once: their pomegranate-trees, their apple-trees, and their other fruit, they say, bear thirteen times in the year, for in the month called Minous they bear twice. Instead of wheat their ears bear them loaves of bread ready baked, like unto mushrooms. About the city are three hundred three-score and five wells of water, and as many of honey, and five hundred of sweet ointment, for they are less than the other. They have seven rivers of milk and eight of wine.

They keep their feast without the city in a field called Elysium, which is a most pleasant meadow, environed with woods of all sorts, so thick that they serve for a shade to all that are invited, who sit upon beds of flowers, and are waited upon, and have everything brought unto them by the winds, unless it be to have the wine filled: and that there is no need of: for about the banqueting place are mighty great trees growing of clear and pure glass, and the fruit of those trees are drinking-cups and other kind of vessels of what fashion or greatness you will: and every man that comes to the feast gathers one or two of those cups, and sets them before him, which will be full of wine presently, and then they drink. Instead of garlands the nightingales and other musical birds gather flowers with their beaks out of the meadows adjoining, and flying over their heads with chirping notes scatter them among them.

They are anointed with sweet ointment in this manner: sundry clouds draw that unguent out of the fountains and the rivers, which settling over the heads of them that are at the banquet, the least blast of wind makes a small rain fall upon them like unto a dew. After supper they spend the time in music and singing: their ditties that are in most request they take out of Homer’s verses, who is there present himself and feasteth among them, sitting next above Ulysses: their choirs consist of boys and virgins, which were directed and assisted by Eunomus the Locrian, and Arion the Lesbian, and Anacreon, and Stesichorus, who hath had a place there ever since his reconcilement with Helena. As soon as these have done there enter a second choir of swans, swallows, and nightingales; and when they have ended, the whole woods ring like wind-instruments by the stirring of the air.

But that which maketh most for their mirth are two wells adjoining to the banqueting place, the one of laughter, the other of pleasure: of these every man drinks to begin the feast withal, which makes them spend the whole time in mirth and laughter.

I will also relate unto you what famous men I saw in that association. There were all the demigods, and all that fought against Troy, excepting Ajax the Locrian: he only, they told me, was tormented in the region of the unrighteous. Of barbarians there was the elder and the younger Cyrus, and Anacharsis the Scythian, Zamolxis the Thracian, and Numa the Italian. There was also Lycurgus the Lacedæmonian, and Phocion and Tellus the Athenians, and all the Wise Men, unless it were Periander.

I also saw Socrates, the son of Sophroniscus, prattling with Nestor and Palamedes, and close by him stood Hyacinthus the Lacedæmonian, and the gallant Narcissus and Hylas, and other beautiful and lovely youths, and for aught I could gather by him he was far in love with Hyacinthus, for he discoursed with him more than all the rest: for which cause, they said, Rhadamanthus was offended at him, and often threatened to thrust him out of the island if he continued to play the fool in that fashion, and not give over his idle manner of jesting, when he was at their banquet. Only Plato was not present, for they said he dwelled in a city framed by himself, observing the same rule of government and laws as he had prescribed for them to live under.

Aristippus and Epicurus are prime men amongst them, because they are the most jovial good fellows and the best companions. Diogenes the Sinopean was so far altered from the man he was before that he married with Lais the harlot, and was many times so drunk that he would rise and dance about the room as a man out of his senses. Æsop the Phrygian served them for a jester. There was not one Stoic in company but were still busied in ascending the height of virtue’s hill: and of Chrysippus we heard that it was not lawful for him by any means to touch upon the island until he have the fourth time purged himself with helleborus. The Academics, they say, were willing enough to come, but that they yet are doubtful and in suspense, and cannot comprehend how there should be any such island; but indeed, I think, they were fearful to come to be judged by Rhadamanthus, because themselves have abolished all kind of judgment: yet many of them, they say, had a desire, and would follow after those that were coming hither, but were so slothful as to give it over because they were not comprehensive, and therefore turned back in the midst of their way.

These were all the men of note that I saw there; and amongst them all Achilles was held to be the best man, and next to him Theseus. For their manner of venery and copulation thus it is: they couple openly in the eyes of all men, both with females and male kind, and no man holds it for any dishonesty. Only Socrates would swear deeply that he accompanied young men in a cleanly fashion, and therefore every man condemned him for a perjured fellow: and Hyacinthus and Narcissus both confessed otherwise for all his denial.

The women there are all in common, and no man takes exception at it, in which respect they are absolutely the best Platonists in the world: and so do the boys yield themselves to any man’s pleasure without contradiction.

After I had spent two or three days in this manner, I went to talk with Homer the poet, our leisure serving us both well, and to know of him what countryman he was, a question with us hard to be resolved, and he said he could not certainly tell himself, because some said he was of Chios, some of Smyrna, and many to be of Colophon; but he said indeed he was a Babylonian, and among his own countrymen not called Homer but Tigranes, and afterwards living as an hostage among the Grecians, he had therefore that name put upon him. Then I questioned him about those verses in his books that are disallowed as not of his making, whether they were written by him or not, and he told me they were all his own, much condemning Zenodotus and Aristarchus, the grammarians, for their weakness in judgment.

When he had satisfied me in this, I asked him again why he began the first verse of his poem with anger: and he told me it fell out so by chance, not upon any premeditation. I also desired to know of him whether he wrote his Odysseys before his Iliads, as many men do hold: but he said it was not so. As for his blindness which is charged upon him, I soon found it was far otherwise, and perceived it so plainly that I needed not to question him about it.

Thus was I used to do many days when I found him idle, and would go to him and ask him many questions, which he would give me answer to very freely: especially when we talked of a trial he had in the court of justice, wherein he got the better: for Thersites had preferred a bill of complaint against him for abusing him and scoffing at him in his Poem, in which action Homer was acquitted, having Ulysses for his advocate.

About the same time came to us Pythagoras the Samian, who had changed his shape now seven times, and lived in as many lives, and accomplished the periods of his soul. The right half of his body was wholly of gold; and they all agreed that he should have place amongst them, but were doubtful what to call him, Pythagoras or Euphorbus. Empedocles also came to the place, scorched quite over, as if his body had been broiled upon the embers; but could not be admitted for all his great entreaty.

The time passing thus along, the day of prizes for masteries of activity now approached, which they call Thanatusia. The setters of them forth were Achilles the fifth time, and Theseus the seventh time. To relate the whole circumstance would require a long discourse, but the principal points I will deliver. At wrestling Carus, one of the lineage of Hercules, had the best, and wan the garland from Ulysses. The fight with fists was equal between Arius the Ægyptian, who was buried at Corinth, and Epius, that combated for it. There was no prize appointed for the Pancratian fight: neither do I remember who got the best in running: but for poetry, though Homer without question were too good for them all, yet the best was given to Hesiodus. The prizes were all alike, garlands plotted of peacocks’ feathers.

As soon as the games were ended, news came to us that the damned crew in the habitation of the wicked had broken their bounds, escaped the gaolers, and were coming to assail the island, led by Phalaris the Agrigentine, Busyris the Ægyptian, Diomedes the Thracian, Sciron, Pituocamptes, and others: which Rhadamanthus hearing, he ranged the Heroes in battle array upon the sea-shore, under the leading of Theseus and Achilles and Ajax Telamonius, who had now recovered his senses, where they joined fight; but the Heroes had the day, Achilles carrying himself very nobly. Socrates also, who was placed in the right wing, was noted for a brave soldier, much better than he was in his lifetime, in the battle at Delium: for when the enemy charged him, he neither fled nor changed countenance: wherefore afterwards, in reward of his valour, he had a prize set out for him on purpose, which was a beautiful and spacious garden, planted in the suburbs of the city, whereunto he invited many, and disputed with them there, giving it the name of Necracademia.

Then we took the vanquished prisoners, and bound them, and sent them back to be punished with greater torments.

This fight was also penned by Homer, who, at my departure, gave me the book to show my friends, which I afterwards lost and many things else beside: but the first verse of the poem I remember was this: “Tell me now, Muse, how the dead Heroes fought.”

When they overcome in fight, they have a custom to make a feast with sodden beans, wherewith they banquet together for joy of their victory: only Pythagoras had no part with them, but sat aloof off, and lost his dinner because he could not away with beans.

Six months were now passed over, and the seventh halfway onwards, when a new business was begot amongst us. For Cinyras the son of Scintharus, a proper tall young man, had long been in love with Helena, and it might plainly be perceived that she as fondly doted upon him, for they would still be winking and drinking one to another whilst they were a-feasting, and rise alone together, and wander up and down in the wood. This humour increasing, and knowing not what course to take, Cinyras’ device was to steal away Helena, whom he found as pliable to run away with him, to some of the islands adjoining, either to Phello, or Tyroessa, having before combined with three of the boldest fellows in my company to join with them in their conspiracy; but never acquainted his father with it, knowing that he would surely punish him for it.

Being resolved upon this, they watched their time to put it in practice: for when night was come, and I absent (for I was fallen asleep at the feast), they gave a slip to all the rest, and went away with Helena to shipboard as fast as they could. Menelaus waking about midnight, and finding his bed empty, and his wife gone, made an outcry, and calling up his brother, went to the court of Rhadamanthus.

As soon as the day appeared, the scouts told them they had descried a ship, which by that time was got far off into the sea. Then Rhadamanthus set out a vessel made of one whole piece of timber of asphodelus wood, manned with fifty of the Heroes to pursue after them, which were so willing on their way, that by noon they had overtaken them newly entered into the milky ocean, not far from Tyroessa, so near were they got to make an escape. Then took we their ship and hauled it after us with a chain of roses and brought it back again.

Rhadamanthus first examined Cinyras and his companions whether they had any other partners in this plot, and they confessing none, were adjudged to be tied fast by the privy members and sent into the place of the wicked, there to be tormented, after they had been scourged with rods made of mallows. Helena, all blubbered with tears, was so ashamed of herself that she would not show her face. They also decreed to send us packing out of the country, our prefixed time being come, and that we should stay there no longer than the next morrow: wherewith I was much aggrieved and wept bitterly to leave so good a place and turn wanderer again I knew not whither: but they comforted me much in telling me that before many years were past I should be with them again, and showed me a chair and a bed prepared for me against the time to come near unto persons of the best quality.

Then went I to Rhadamanthus, humbly beseeching him to tell me my future fortunes, and to direct me in my course; and he told me that after many travels and dangers, I should at last recover my country, but would not tell me the certain time of my return: and showing me the islands adjoining, which were five in number, and a sixth a little further off, he said, Those nearest are the islands of the ungodly, which you see burning all in a light fire, but the other sixth is the island of dreams, and beyond that is the island of Calypso, which you cannot see from hence. When you are past these, you shall come into the great continent, over against your own country, where you shall suffer many afflictions, and pass through many nations, and meet with men of inhuman conditions, and at length attain to the other continent.

When he had told me this, he plucked a root of mallows out of the ground, and reached it to me, commanding me in my greatest perils to make my prayers to that: advising me further neither to rake in the fire with my knife, nor to feed upon lupins, nor to come near a boy when he is past eighteen years of age: if I were mindful of this, the hopes would be great that I should come to the island again.

Then we prepared for our passage, and feasted with them at the usual hour, and next morrow I went to Homer, entreating him to do so much as make an epigram of two verses for me, which he did: and I erected a pillar of berylstone near unto the haven, and engraved them upon it. The epigram was this:

Lucian, the gods’ belov’d, did once attain
To see all this, and then go home again.

After that day’s tarrying, we put to sea, brought onward on our way by the Heroes, where Ulysses closely coming to me that Penelope might not see him, conveyed a letter into my hand to deliver to Calypso in the isle of Ogygia. Rhadamanthus also sent Nauplius, the ferryman, along with us, that if it were our fortune to put into those islands, no man should lay hands upon us, because we were bent upon other employments.

Further Reading:

The Surprising Origins of Sci-Fi

PD’s 39-40: An Intimate Koinonia of Friends

The man who best knows how to meet external threats makes into one family all the creatures he can; and those he can not, he at any rate does not treat as aliens; and where he finds even this impossible, he avoids all dealings, and, so far as is advantageous, excludes them from his life. – Principal Doctrine 39

In the past, the Koinonia of Friends of Epicurus has produced memes with the #KnowYourCircle hashtag. This is an appeal to the logic of concentric circles that we find in Doctrine 39, which says that we should have an inner circle of beings who are familiar and trustworthy, an outer circle of acquaintances with whom we have some familiarity, and then there may be people who are outside of our circles and worthy of avoidance for reasons of safety or due to other annoyances. This Doctrine may have been inspired by the Timocrates affair.

We call this the Doctrine of eumetry, a term coined by aesthetician Panayotis Michelis to denote a non-mathematical and non-symmetrical harmony that can at times even be superior to symmetry–which is often considered an important standard in aesthetics, or the study of beauty. Michelis was saying was that sometimes beauty can be measured in non-standard ways. However, neo-Epicurean French philosopher and historian Michel Onfray adapted this neologism for use in ethics. It comes from the Greek “eu-” (good) and “-metry” is related to measure, or distance, so that it implies keeping “a good distance”, or keeping “a safe distance: not too close, not too far”, as Onfray puts it. Knowing the right distance to keep with many people is meant to guarantee peace of mind.

One of the great life-long existential tasks that every Epicurean must carry out is expressed in Doctrine 27: it consists on building our own tribe, our own circle of friends. Since the closing of the Letter to Menoeceus says that we have two fields of praxis as Epicureans (introspective meleta by ourselves, and social meleta with friends of like mind), we must include some knowledgeable, sincere, and happy Epicureans in our circle of friends. By enshrining these things in Doctrine, Epicurus made it clear that he wanted his disciples to create intellectual tribes, to associate with and blend their minds with people who think alike.

Some of the Principal Doctrines “give a sermon together”–meaning, they must be interpreted in sequence or as part of a whole, because they seem to have been born as conclusions from a single, ongoing conversation among the Founders. That is the case with the last two Doctrines, and we must also consider why they were placed last. Once Doctrine 39 has been practiced consistently, and we have created an inner circle, Kyriai Doxai closes with these instructions:

Those who were best able to provide themselves with the means of security against their neighbors, being thus in possession of the surest guarantee, passed the most pleasant life in each other’s society; and their enjoyment of the fullest intimacy was such that, if one of them died before his time, the survivors did not mourn his death as if it called for sympathy. – Principal Doctrine 40

Once we have built our fortress of the soul and surrounded ourselves with “Friends of like mind”, we are able to enjoy an intimate society of Friends. This is the final instruction of Kyriai Doxai. It helps us to create a healthy and stimulating environment for Epicurean practice, for exploring the tasks and Doctrines both by ourselves and with others. It’s written in the past tense, which may indicate that we are to look to the founders as role models for ideas about what this intimate society of Friends looks like.

Perhaps as should be expected for the last one of the Principal Doctrines, it includes instructions on how NOT to mourn our Epicurean friends. Epicurus says we should remember them not with lamentations, but with pleasant remembrance. One of the Vatican Sayings teaches the practice of pleasant remembrance for that which we can not change. So there is a particular Epicurean tradition of remembering our Friends, which was enshrined in the Twentieth feasts which are in actuality memorial services for the Founders (and, broadly, for our Friends in philosophy who have parted).

Once you have an intimate society of Epicurean Friends, it’s natural that some will die, and we may be obligated (by oath) or compelled (by a sense of loyalty) to honor our friends’ memory in a manner that is true to their beliefs. The Roman Epicureans developed a tradition of burial where they placed the words “Non fvi. Fvi. Non svm. Non cvro.” (I was not, I was, I am not, I care not) on their tombstones. We may develop similar traditions today, or revive the ancient tradition. Part of the point of this Doctrine is that the practice of remembrance of our dead should be consistent with the rest of our theory and praxis. We must create Epicurean cultural expression that is authentic and reflects our values.

On Koinonia

I spoke here about our circles as intellectual tribes, and in my essay for How to Live a Good Life, I defended tribalism as a non-politically-correct but naturally-correct practice, based on the hundreds of thousands of years during which our ancestors evolved in tribal societies, and based on the Dunbar number. There’d be nothing special about being Epicurean if everyone could be Epicurean. It’s an intimate circle of friends, and somewhat exclusive. I now wish to tie this communitarian Doctrine to the sources.

Epicurean Koinonia are bound by hedonic contracts. Epicurus, in Principal Doctrines 37-38, uses the term κοινωνία (koinonia), saying that justice exists only in the context of companions who have agreements of mutual benefit. Depending on how the Doctrines are worded in English, it translates as “companions” or as “association”. When used in the New Testament, it’s often translated as “fellowship”, which is defined as:

1 : companionship, company
2a : community of interest, activity, feeling, or experience
b : the state of being a fellow or associate
3 : a company of equals or friends : association
4 : the quality or state of being comradely
5 obsolete : membership, partnership

The word is of Greek origin and was not used by Jesus, who spoke Aramaic. It appears in the Pauline literature in Acts 2:42, in 2 Corinthians 9:13, and in Philippians 3:10, which lends credibility to the theory by Norman DeWitt that the “apostle” Paul (who is credited with authoring these epistles) appropriated many Epicurean concepts and adapted them for his New Testament epistles (he also imitated our epistolary literary tradition).

DeWitt’s theory is that Paul was steeped in the study of Epicureanism, and that he transferred the concepts from our philosophy into his new religion, assigning new meaning to the concepts. But we are not interested in what koinonia came to mean for Christians. If we try to imagine ways in which Paul would have discovered the joys of fellowship among the Epicureans, or ways in which we can experience these pleasures today, we would come up with:

  1. spending time with our friends and blending our minds with theirs
  2. studying, learning, practicing, teaching, and creating together
  3. honoring each other with gifts and celebrating each other’s birthdays and other joys
  4. helping each other, when necessary
  5. trusting our Epicurean Friends and turning to them when we have problems
  6. even when we apply parrhesia (frank criticism), we may use suavity (the Epicurean virtue of sweet, kind speech) to soften the harshness of our words

Concerning the first point, the Havamal (although it’s from another tradition) has one stanza that accurately explains that “care will gnaw at your heart if you can’t share all your mind with another“. The second point fulfils Epicurus’ instructions on meleta, which should be done both by ourselves (introspection) and with “others of like mind“.

One further point must be made, based on the contextual interpretation of PD’s 37-38. These Doctrines deal with problems related to discerning how natural justice applies in a particular situation. Natural justice exists only where there are agreements between Friends. Since the use of koinonia in the Epicurean scriptures is restricted to this context, we assume that this fellowship is only possible among Friends who have such agreements (which require trust and a high degree of clear communication). These agreements may take the concrete forms of written contracts, verbal agreements, or oaths. Outside of this, there is no natural, concrete justice, and therefore no koinonia. This means that justice (defined as mutual benefit, and avoidance of mutual harm) is one of the foundations for Epicurean Friendship, since it’s not seen to flourish among people who do not agree to not harm each other, but to benefit each other. In this way, we can understand why the Doctrines on justice precede the final two in the progression of ideas that we find in the Kyriai Doxai, and why they’re advantageous for our happiness, and therefore included in the canonical collection of maxims as required practice.

Since these Doctrines discuss the intimacy of our communities, they’re a good place to evaluate the utility of the word Koinonia. It might be more advantageous for us to refer to the Society of Friends of Epicurus as a Koinonia, rather than as “this Society”, which may at times (by people who are hostile to us, or who are ignorant) be misconstrued to refer to the entire society of which we are part of, when we in reality are only referring to those who are in our circle and who are armed for happiness. The adoption of the term Koinonia may, therefore, be a clearer and more specific way for Epicureans to refer to our own circles of Friends, rather than “society” or other words whose meaning is broader.

PD’s 10-14: On the Utility of Science and the Pleasure of Safety

If the things that produce the delights of those who are decadent washed away the mind’s fears about astronomical phenomena and death and suffering, and furthermore if they taught us the limits of our pains and desires, then we would have no complaints against them, since they would be filled with every joy and would contain not a single pain or distress (and that’s what is bad).

What are the things that produce the delights of those who are decadent? Some may say prostitution or endless pursuit of sexual pleasures, or endless desires (over-eating, abuse of drugs or alcohol). The PD says we DO have complaints against them (but it has nothing to do with the pleasure we gain from them): they are not productive of tranquil pleasure, their delights come with inconveniences. This Doctrine helps with hedonic calculus.

Anxiety often manifests as bored craving for needless things, or fears about not having those things. Extravagant, wasteful, licentious, or libertine pleasures are not necessarily “bad” so long as we understand the limits of nature. Principal Doctrine 11 is the doctrine of science as a means:

If our suspicions about astronomical phenomena and about death were nothing to us and troubled us not at all, and if this were also the case regarding our ignorance about the limits of our pains and desires, then we would have no need for studying what is natural.

Both PDs 10-11 remind us that only empirical knowledge (epilogismos or empirical thinking) can tell us about the limits of nature. This Doctrine specifically explains the purpose of studying nature, that the study of nature is the cure for problems related to inherited superstitions, and that science is a means to our tranquility and happiness. Also, it says here that science is necessary to remove these fears and apprehensions; this is not to say we should not study nature beyond this (if it brings pleasure, or if it helps in some other way), but that this is the amount that falls within the category of necessary knowledge. There are three categories for what is necessary in the Letter to Menoeceus, and one of them consists of what is needed for our happiness–which includes some measure of scientific knowledge. This, naturally, has repercussions for the philosophy and practice of Epicurean education.

Polystratus, the third Scholarch of the Garden, said that if we pursue virtue without the study of nature, our virtue will degrade into nothing, have no utility, and may result in arrogance and superstition. We see this today among the practitioners of conventional religions, for they are often hostile to the advance of science and fanatical in their views. Therefore, without the study of nature, we say that it is also useless to pursue virtue (regardless of how well-meaning we are). PD 12 continues attacking our suspicions about the myths:

It is impossible for someone who is completely ignorant about nature to wash away his fears about the most important matters if he retains some suspicions about the myths. So it is impossible to experience undiluted pleasure without studying what is natural.

This doctrine helps to cure fear of hell and of gods, and other fear-based superstitions, by pointing to the study of nature. I am reminded of the founder of Atheist Republic and his attempts to commit suicide as a teenager because of his deep fear of the Islamic hell, which was instilled in him when he was growing up. The Epicurean Doctrines accentuate, more than once, that the study of nature (philologia) is necessary for happiness, and to heal the diseases of the soul that keep us from being happy.

Concerning the issue of “suspicions”, let us bring this word into relief in order to accentuate it against the mention of the word “gnomé” (conviction, judgment) in PD 28, the Doctrine of the utility of dogmatism, where Epicurus says: “you must KNOW these things!”. Here, the Hegemon requires a full cognitive commitment and assimilation of the Doctrines from the disciple. The key-word of this Doctrine is gnomé, which shares semantic roots with “to know”, “knowledge”, and “conocer” (to know) in Spanish.

Epicurus always carefully chose his words, which makes them particularly powerful. Notice (and contrast) the power and medicine of these two words: when we discuss “suspicions”, we are not giving credit to the relevant truth-claims. We are dismissing them as mere “suspicions”, whereas the truths we gain from the study of nature are knowledge. We do not suspect them, we KNOW them. We should seek to imitate Epicurus’ mastery of his choice of words for accuracy and clarity. PDs 13 and 14 are about safety.

It is useless to be safe from other people while retaining suspicions about what is above and below the earth and in general about the infinite unknown

PD 13 continues the reasoning of PD 12. Why is this a separate PD? It deals specifically with safety, which is in the category of natural and necessary pleasures. By attacking our “suspicions” based on fear-based superstitions, these Doctrines invite us to have a firm conviction and a clear understanding based on the study of nature. We must not be wishy-washy, or give the benefit of doubt to superstition for reasons of political correctness, or of tolerance, etc. as this leads to degrading superstition. To avoid giving undue credit to the suspicions about the myths, we must have a firm conviction (gnomé) in the scientific worldview, with no room for “suspicion”.

Epicurus in his ethics is concerned about the quality of the direct, immediate experience of the sentient being, and whether it’s pleasant or painful. True to this, he uses the word asphaléias not merely as security from other men and external threats (as important as those are), but as a subjective experience. He’s interested in security, surety, certainty and a sense of safety as a psychological or existential state. He wants us to know and feel that we are really safe, to experience inner, psychological safety. He says that without this, if we still harbor suspicions that lead to irrational fears, no safety from external threats makes up for our lack of subjective safety. He establishes a connection between subjective safety from superstitious fears and safety from external threats because he wants his disciple to pay attention to how safety feels in his soul.

And so the disciple must sincerely introspect concerning his opinions and suspicions, and align them with the study of nature and with his own advantage, fearlessness, and pleasure.

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.

Doctrine 14 discusses the method of retreat. The word used here is hesuchia, which translates as peace, quiet, stillness, rest, silence. Epicurus established the doctrine of an Epicurean retreat, presumably because it’s useful to cultivate ataraxia, which requires safety. We may consider this retreat in terms of an actual hermit tradition of the Gardens, but “breaking away from the herd” can be practiced in a calm oasis of peace in the middle of a city. The original Garden was at the margins of Athens. So each practitioner must consider what level and form of hesuchia passes hedonic calculus.

Doctrine 14 should inspire us to make our homes into holy places of retreat, peace, safety, and tranquil pleasure, wherever our homes may be. It calls us to actually take the care and time to enjoy the warmth, familiarity, love, and the other pleasures of privacy and safety among those we care about. It inspires us to separate the space set aside for our true, natural community from the spaces occupied by the mobs. In these places of refuge, of hesuchia, it is easier to enjoy the pleasures of peace and safety.

PD 16: Against The Worship of Fortune

Chance steals only a bit into the life of a wise person: for throughout the complete span of his life the greatest and most important matters have been, are, and will be directed by the power of reason.

One pragmatic method of exegesis is to think of a doctrine in terms of how we connect theory and practice. This helps us to make philosophy tangible. How can we carry out experiments with this doctrine? How is this practiced?

Sages do not need Chance to be happy. This PD does not directly forbid the use of oracles like the runes, Ifa, the Tarot cards, or the prophetic utterances of the monotheists … perhaps as entertainment they’re acceptable, or for things outside “the most important matters”, but from the way it’s worded, we could infer that for all practical purposes there’s a taboo against consulting oracles for true disciples of Epicurus.

One other thing must be noted in this (and many other passages): the expectations that the founders had of sages or even of philosophers were distinct from the expectations they had of average people. The average person is superstitious and waits for Chance to deliver blessings, and the common person considers this happiness. A sage, or a good Epicurean philosopher, must become the cause of his or her own pleasure / happiness.

In the Epistle to Menoeceus, we read that Epicurus also argues that the misfortune of the wise is better than the fortune of fools. Elsewhere in Vatican Saying 47, we see instructions to laugh with derision at Fortune.

I have anticipated thee, Fortune, and entrenched myself against all thy secret attacks. And I will not give myself up as captive to thee or to any other circumstance; but when it is time for me to go, spitting contempt on life and on those who vainly cling to it, I will leave life crying aloud a glorious triumph-song that I have lived well.

It is clear that the attitude of the Epicurean towards fate, destiny, and particularly towards Fortune as a Goddess (or God, when used as an euphemism for Fortune or Chance itself) is one of triumphal derision and mockery. Certainly the attitude is not one of reverence towards Fortuna or Chance. We see, as we see elsewhere, that what is blasphemous for the Epicurean can be worthy of reverence for the common person, while Epicurean doctrines are blasphemous to the average person.

Another way to connect theory and practice, in this doctrine, is to make plans, to leverage whatever control we have over situations. We may ask ourselves what we are trying to accomplish, apply hedonic calculus, and develop a plan. Norman DeWitt said that, while philosophers in general consider that the unexamined life is not worth living, the Epicureans consider that the unplanned life is not worth living.

There are additional literary resources that demonstrate this. Alexander the Oracle Monger contains comical depictions of what may happen when people fall for oracle peddlers. The entire work is about mocking Fortune-tellers, and the short novel could be seen as an exercise in the practice of both PD 16 and VS 47. Finally, as for cultural output, the song O Fortuna pours into verse the feelings of the Epicurean:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5b7tgkdFH0

 

On Natural Holiness

The above video on the Epicurean gods may help us to contextualize the following discussion. When I say natural holiness, I mean as opposed to supernatural, and also holiness as it is empirically observed and experienced by mortals.

We recently carried out a study of holiness with the purpose of carrying out experiments in the theory and practice of Epicurean piety, and as part of an effort to formulate a non-theistic Epicurean religiosity for the 21st Century. We also wanted to rescue the words “holiness” and “the sacred” from centuries of appropriation by world-denying religions.

The holy and the sacred, in conventional religions, have sometimes come to be associated with what we view as unhealthy asceticism and self-denial, and sometimes even with the vulgar hypocrisy of people who are ostentatious about their false piety, whereas in Epicurus we find a non-Platonic concept of “righteous happiness” related to natural holiness, and which is not at all ascetic or world-denying. In Against the use of empty words, we learn that the founders of our School re-assigned new meanings to words as per the study of nature. The rectification of a natural conception of holiness, and the sacred, is a (mammoth and worthwhile) philosophical project.

On Holiness

Holiness shares semantic roots with wholeness (the state of being healthy and complete, safe and sound, uninjured, entire). Scottish hale (a related word that shares semantic roots) implies health, being whole, and happiness. In Spanish, the word “santo” (“the holy”) also shares semantic roots with “sano”, which means healthy, and with the English word sanity. The “in-sane” are people who lack mental health. So the naturally holy may have originally been tied to bodily and mental health.

One of the initial points I wish to make in our investigations of natural holiness is that at some point in history, the healthy and the holy separated in many languages, but they are Siamese twins.

Ancient people utilized “the holy” in order to avoid germs and diseases. This may help to explain the many purity and health codes in ancient religions related to hygiene, and the fact that the goddess of health is known as Hygieia (Hygiene, personified). So we may forgive our conventionally religious friends for having inherited so many hygiene-based superstitions and taboos concerning burial of decaying bodies, menstrual and purity taboos, avoidance of eating pork, etc. Many of these taboos are later corruptions of the initial prolepsis of the holy: the feeling of being happy, whole, complete, healthy and sound, which in antiquity (and even today, as the pandemic has shown) at times required certain taboos around hygiene and health.

On the Utility of the Holy

Philodemus taught that Epicurus ordered that all oaths be taken in the name of the most holy gods, and not on trivialities or non-divine things. One of the ancient Epicurean Guides, Philodemus of Gadara, said:

Piety and justice appear to be almost the same thing … because to break one’s oath is to be unjust and also to lie, and both are disturbing.

Over the years of studying together, the Friends of Epicurus have come to realize that a social contract is needed to properly practice Epicurean philosophy. The sincere student must abide by some house rules, and these rules need to be clearly delineated.

An oath, or agreement, between the teacher / community and the individual student helps to know the house rules (this is also true in most social settings). The specific details of any social contract or agreement must delineate the concrete rules by which that community attains the most advantageous ways of achieving its aims and values. If the social contract is vague, it will not serve its purposes efficiently. Since justice depends on very specific circumstances, contracts require specificity and concreteness.

This is the first, and most obvious, use of holiness: it serves as a guarantor of our oaths with each other. If you and I hold our friendship to be holy, and you swear on our friendship that you will complete a shared project, your disloyalty would be an act of injustice that implies a desecration of our holy friendship.

But there are other ways in which the holy is useful. Since it represents our Highest Values, on which we make our oaths, it also serves as a way to distinguish our highest values from our non-values. It creates a separate category for things of great value for a community.

On the Sacred

Let’s now look at the prolepsis (original attestation and meaning, or “proto-noesis“) of the sacred. A quick online search for the meaning of “sacred” yields some of the following meanings:

connected with God (or the gods) or dedicated to a religious purpose and so deserving veneration.

(of writing or text) embodying the laws or doctrines of a religion.

regarded with great respect and reverence by a particular religion, group, or individual.

The sacred is that which is set aside (or dedicated) as a Higher Value, or for the sake of a Higher Value. It’s set apart from the profane, which is ordinary.

It seems initially that the sacred and the holy are one and the same thing, since sacred comes from Latin sacrare, from sacer, sacr– ‘holy’. However, in our usage, people can be holy but not usually sacred (although I would argue that some people are sacred to us). Objects and books can be both holy and sacred.

Things can be made sacred by consecration. In our modern usage, the sacred is that which is “set aside” for a higher purpose or “set aside” as a higher value, and is worthy of great respect. Sacred things are not ordinary. Hence, the Torah scrolls are kept in the Ark in a synagogue. The eucharist is kept in the tabernacle in a Catholic church. The Krishna prasadam (food consecrated and served in Hindu temples) is not just eaten: it is “honored”. They are set apart from ordinary things, and connect us with the higher values they’re consecrated to.

Does the sacred exist in nature? Without a doubt. I do not consider ordinary people comparable in any way to my parents, to my siblings, to my friends. My mother is the most “sacred” person to me. The tomb of my grandmother is sacred to me because of the love and memories attached. The ground around her tomb is, comparably, meaningless and valueless, but her tomb is sacred. Many people go out of their way to visit their mothers’ graves on Mother’s Day, for instance: that means that the place that holds those remains is set apart, marked as sacred in some way. Even elephants have been observed assuming a solemn demeanor in the presence of bones of their loved ones when they stumble upon them during their long journeys.

It seems to me that the utility of the sacred has to do with a communal or individual choice to focus on some good, and with separating the things that we associate with our Higher Values (which are holy to us) from ordinary things. Sacredness also separates the things worthy of respect from those indifferent or unworthy. Religious scholar Durkheim argues that the sacred represents the interests of the group, including communal unity, which is embodied in symbols, as for instance in a totem (the symbol that unites a tribe). Mircea Eliade, another scholar of religion, says that religion is based on a sharp distinction between the sacred and the profane.

I argue that the sacred does exist in nature: that some things are observed to have a much greater value that most other things to certain sentient beings, and so we observe that they are considered to deserve special respect, so they are set aside.

In addition to things that are naturally sacred, things can come to be considered sacred by dedication, devotion, or formal and ceremonial consecration. The definitions of “consecrate” include:

To make / declare something sacred

To dedicate formally to a religious, divine, or sacred purpose

Ordain someone to sacred office

Devote something exclusively to a particular purpose

We sometimes hold on to pictures or objects that were given by loved ones or friends due to emotional attachment: they are “consecrated” to the memory of a loved one. When something is offered to a higher ideal, or to a friend, or towards a goal which is itself considered sacred, the thing offered becomes set apart, gains value from that sacredness.

The Sacred Within our Hierarchy of Values

Let us now contextualize the usefulness of the sacred within the framework of our highest existential projects and goals. Why? Because this helps to illuminate the relation between our hierarchy of priorities and values, and the practice of hedonic calculus. This places “the sacred” within an undeniably Epicurean ethical context, one that helps us navigate our choices and avoidances.

Can our goals (which guide our actions) be “sacred”, or be tied to things that are sacred? The pleasures and advantages we get from our toil justify the disadvantages and pains we choose. Our sacrifices must always be devoted to some higher goal or value, which redeems them or justifies them thanks to the mathematics of hedonic calculus. A rational mortal will sacrifice only lesser values to higher values. 

Notice how we are moving from the most holy gods to our Highest Values in our non-theistic discourse. Rather than sacrifice to Zeus or Dionysus, we are taming religious techniques, and recruiting them for ethical and philosophical purposes. This reminds me of the poem/epiphany early in Liber Primus (the First Book of “De rerum natura” by Lucretius) where religion is trampled underfoot by philosophy.

Also, notice that part of what I’m saying here is that the language used in conventional religions (words like the sacred, or sacrifice) can be transferred into a realism that rejects all supernaturalism; that we can return to the original prolepsis of these words in formulating our own Epicurean religiosity based on the study of nature.

In Epicurean philosophy, we believe Pleasure is the Guide of Life, and the faculty that points to what the goods are. We say a man may be “devoted” to his wife, or to his studies. This expression implies a goal (love and happiness within a matrimony, a PhD or some other professional or educational attainment with prospects of a higher salary, etc.) that justifies these sacrifices and could itself be “sacred”. In fact, matrimony is considered a sacrament by many religions. It’s seen as a holy contract, and an act of mutual consecration of two beings to each other so that they become each other’s Higher Values.

Our sacrifices are a good place to look for our highest values, since we do not seek pains except to serve greater pleasures, so that we observe that our sacrifices (and our hedonic calculus) point to an empirical encounter with in our hierarchy of values.

The word sacrifice carries the prolepsis “to make sacred”–that is, sacer(sacred) + facere (to make). A rational human only offers or makes sacrifices (of any kind) for worthy reasons, or to worthy ideals and goals. Sacrifices are, to speak naturally and concretely, the objects or actions that are “made sacred” and therefore redeemed or justified by consecration to our goals and our Higher Values. We may not think of these goals as sacred, but we use the word “sacrifice” (sacer-facere), which implies something sacred which justifies our efforts. I made huge sacrifices to obtain a school diploma, for instance. Some people sacrifice their marriage for an addiction or a short-lived affair, to offer an example of an irrational, unethical sacrifice that does not pass hedonic calculus.

If our pains are not “sacrificed” to a higher aim, they are not made sacred, they are not redeemed or justified, they lack meaning and value to us. In these cases, such pains or sacrifices are to be avoided, if possible. Please consider your own past and present choices and rejections, and place this before your eyes: we observe that the sacred is, by pragmatic definition, that which justifies our sacrifices by being a Higher Value. We make great sacrifices and accept great pains for the sake of our friends, our loved ones, our Highest Values, and our Gods (even metaphorical ones).

And while we are willing to make great sacrifices and take great risks for a loved one or a friend, we admit only lesser pains for the sake of a stranger. The life of a stranger may still be sacred to us, and we may still be moved by compassion, but not nearly as much as that of a loved one or friend.

Having explored the natural sense of the words holiness and sacred, let’s now move on to a specifically non-theistic religious discussion of them while keeping these definitions clearly in our mind.

Towards a Non-Theistic Experience of the Holy

Should we–and how do we–make the sacred tangible and material in a worldview that rejects the supernatural? How do we enjoy the pleasures of the holy as Epicureans or spiritual naturalists? I believe our experiments in piety within the context of a non-theistic Epicurean religiosity might contribute to the modern atheist arguments that we can create values without God with clear demonstrations of how it’s done, and in a manner that is true to our traditions.

I will begin by arguing that many things other than the holy gods are holy. For instance, people make non-theistic oaths, like “I swear on our friendship …”, with the assumption that said friendship is held in such high esteem that it is understood to be holy by the two parties. There are many other “immortal goods”. We could say “I swear on the words of Epicurus”, or “I swear on justice, or on my honor, or on my reputation”, with the assumption that these are things of value to us. Non-religious people, when they go to a court, have the option of swearing on the Constitution instead of a Bible, in the civic ceremonial tradition of the United States. Even the religious sometimes swear on things other than their god. “I swear on the tomb of my grandmother”, for instance, is a non-theistic oath. They are oaths taken on our (often shared) values, things we love, revere, or highly respect, among which we will find our sacred things.

Epicureanism as a Non-Theistic Religiosity

The imagery, in De Rerum Natura, where religion is trampled under the feet of man, teaches that religion must have utility for all the individuals it serves. Religion must be civilized, reformed, tamed by the Epicurean. Our chosen beliefs must serve us and increase our pleasures.

A naturalist, and perhaps non-theistic, religiosity can be useful, healthy, and relevant. It would purge religion of its less civilized elements, domesticate it, tame it, and keep the best aspects of religion that give people central symbols around which to organize their lives and communities, develop their culture and aesthetics, and make oaths. It’s also a sign that we respect ourselves, our chosen communities, our values, and our philosophy.

By creating tangible artifacts and ceremonies that are considered holy and worthy of reverence, by the sacralization of the words of Epicurus as a sacred text or object of contemplation, by the celebration of the Twentieth, by an oath, or by any other ceremony, philosophy furnishes all the things that conventional religions furnish. We are also making philosophy tangible by these acts of value-creation.

Impious is not so much the man who denies the Gods of the many as the man who attributes the beliefs of the many to them.

Ancient Epicureanism mimicked much of the utility and culture of conventional religion. It was a sect, had rituals, feasts, sacred oaths, Guides (the kath-hegemones), culture heroes (the four Founders) for whom sculptures were made and fetishized (as documented in The Sculpted Word), revered writings, and even a patron Goddess (Venus). It will take years for modern intellectuals to successfully rescue the original sense of many of the words, concepts and practices that world-denying religions have monopolized, but it is my view that carrying out concrete experiments in piety within the context of Epicurean philosophy as a legitimate (theistic or) non-theistic religion for the 21st Century deserves careful and sincere further exploration.

Meléta: Epicurus’ Instructions for Students

Do and practice (μελέτα), then, the things I have always recommended to you, holding them to be the stairway to a beautiful life …

So 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 merely mortal being. – Epicurus’ Epistle to Menoeceus

ταῦτα οὖν καὶ τὰ τούτοις συγγενῆ μελέτα πρὸς σεαυτὸν ἡμέρας καὶ νυκτὸς <καὶ> πρὸς τὸν ὅμοιον σεαυτῷ, καὶ οὐδέποτε οὔθ’ ὕπαρ οὔτ’ ὄναρ διαταραχθήσῃ, ζήσῃ δὲ ὡς θεὸς ἐν ἀνθρώποις. οὐθὲν γὰρ ἔοικε θνητῷ ζῴῳ ζῶν ἄνθρωπος ἐν ἀθανάτοις ἀγαθοῖς.

The Teaching Mission: “Deliberate … with a Like-Minded Friend”

A good disciple is one that tries to follow the instructions of his teacher. Based on the early part, and the closing, of the Letter to Menoeceus, it seems that Epicurus would not consider us true and sincere disciples if we don’t dedicate ourselves to deliberating (meléta) about philosophy in two ways: both by ourselves and with others who are similar to us (of like mind, or who are at the same level).

Epicurus may have been thinking, when he wrote these words at the end of LMenoeceus, that since he (and perhaps his philosopher friends) took so much time and effort to organize the doctrines for the students, that he preferred that they honored his effort by multiplying the fruits of his effort. Hence, by closing LMenoeceus in this manner, Epicurus was basically saying: “Go share this with (those among) your friends who are like-minded intellectual peers”

This is how (what Norman DeWitt called) “the teaching mission” of the Epicurean Gardens began: there was an Epicurean interest in education, or rather re-educating both old and young. We can think of the Epicurean critique of paideia (traditional Greek education) in this light: it comes with an attempt to offer an alternative or an addendum to conventional education.

Who was studying philosophy in the Garden? We might surmise–from the invitation at the beginning of LMenoeceus to young and old to study philosophy–that the Garden had at least two educational curricula: one for youth, and one for elders–or at least one for beginners, and one for advanced students, as we can also imagine from the fact that new students were given the Little Epitome to study, and advanced students had other works to study. We have to imagine also that these curricula included the three bodies of the Epicurean wisdom tradition (canon, physics, ethics).

We can also surmise that the disciples to whom these works were dedicated were advanced and sincere enough, that they were entrusted to continue passing down these teachings. A good teacher would not entrust the “teaching mission” to just anyone: he would not give a doctrine to share if it’s incomplete, or if the disciple who receives it has not mastered the basics and isn’t able to lead a study group, at the very least. Although elsewhere we have a fragment that says that Metrodorus, Polyaenus, and Hermarchus were Epicurus’ ambassadors–we have here an invitation to missionary work not for the Guides (kath-hegemones) of the Garden, but for Menoeceus: a regular disciple. As Norman DeWitt said: “each one teach one“.

Since both the PD’s and the LMenoeceus seem to be conclusive summaries–which is why Diogenes Laertius included them in his biography of Epicurus–, we can surmise that by the time they were given to the disciples, the doctrines of the Garden had matured to a point that was considered sufficiently stable and complete to warrant such a definite summary.

Epicurus said that his teachings were not for everyone, but for those who are “armed for happiness“. While there was a clear hierarchy of knowledge in the Garden, we see in LMenoeceus that every Epicurean pupil was considered intelligent enough to be a “like-minded friend” to other Epicureans, and in this sense there was a form of equality (which manifests as like-mindedness) in the Garden even among slaves, women, and people of different classes.

Practicing Meléta

I’d like to direct attention to the word used here, which is sometimes translated as “practice these things“, or “ponder these things“. The word meléta (μελέτα) has several meanings:

to think carefully
to meditate upon
to give oneself totally to
to dedicate oneself to
to practice
to cultivate
to ponder
to deliberate

This process of pondering is, of course, mostly private, and it’s meant to ensure a full, sincere, cognitive assimilation of the Doctrines, and clear convictions. It also helps us to do the introspective work that the Doctrines sometimes challenge us with.

But there’s a second mode of study that Epicurus recommends. He says we should study with “kindred souls“. He uses the word omoion, which is related semantically to the English word “same”, and with the idea of a counterpart, a double, or equivalent.

Studying Philodemus, Lucretius, and the other great Epicureans of the past (and present) gives us privileged access to the meléta processes of previous generations and allows us to capitalize on their wisdom, and to participate in some way in the meléta of others, enhancing our own, and giving us a different perspective.

As an exercise to help us visualize what is meant by the closing passage of the Letter to Menoeceus, we could ask ourselves: “How do I practice meléta (as defined above) with others, and by myself?“. That is,

How do I think carefully on the Epicurean doctrines with others, and by myself?
How do I meditate upon philosophy with others, and by myself?
How do I give myself totally to EP with others, and by myself?
How do I dedicate myself to the study of philosophy with others, and by myself?
How do I practice EP with others, and by myself?
How do I cultivate Epicurean philosophy with others, and by myself?
How do I ponder EP with others, and by myself?
How do I deliberate about EP with others, and by myself?

This may involve study, reading, writing essays to document what one is learning, asking questions to those who are more knowledgeable, and having conversations with them online or in person. The point is that collective deliberation with knowledgeable Epicurean friends helps to catch most errors, and that by exposing us to frank criticism, collective deliberation helps us to develop a good character, to practice true friendship, and to gain knowledge.

Why should anyone trust that our words are true to the Principal Doctrines, if we are not knowledgeable? Knowledge is an important currency to us. In the Society of Friends of Epicurus, we believe in a hierarchy of knowledge, and place great importance in having knowledgeable Epicureans (preferrably, formal Guides who have been trained in EP) to study with.

Another point that must be raised is that proof is in the pudding: Guides must be happy. They must show in their own life that they are living pleasantly with the aid of philosophy. If a person seems unhappy, impractical, unfriendly, if he relies on Fortune for his happiness, or if she relies heavily on particular and obscure interpretations with no reliance on the PDs, you should look for other students to study with.

Knowledgeable friends or Guides must not harbor ill-will, which destroys philosophical inquiry and makes philosophy degenerate into ad-hominem attacks. That is not true meléta. Guides must give parrhesia with good will, and with a sincere investment in the happiness, wisdom, and good character of their friends. They must also frequently cite the sources, and give exegetical or interpretative insight about them, rather than merely rely on their own pre-established biases. When they do discuss their own ideas or those of non-Epicureans, these ideas must be: 1. in harmony with the rest of the Epicurean doctrine, and be 2. internally consistent (these are Epicurus’ two instructions for innovation).

Meléta is Both Passive and Active

I wish to mention here the essay by R Braicovich (which I recently read in Spanish) on the use of epitomes (summaries) by Epicureans, which cites the critique by some hostile scholars who say that the Epicurean practice of memorizing and repeating doctrines is passive and does not constitute true philosophy. In the essay, the author argues that part of the utility of memorization (and of an Epicurean education) is to assist people in the process of hedonic calculus, and therefore this process of memorization was not as passive as these hostile scholars claim. The author also mentions that the epitomes must either 1. be memorized or 2. studied in depth with tutors (to cite Norman DeWitt: “each one teach one“) or with other writings that explain our summaries, but our discussion of the end of the Letter to Menoeceus makes it clear that these two forms of studying are not mutually exclusive: they are complementary, and both are necessary. The bottom line is that Epicurean studies require both a personal cognitive commitment, as well as a community of friends.

Furthermore, the essay stresses that learning is not merely passive memorization and repetition, but that the doctrines of Epicurus are meant to aid us in carrying out our hedonic calculus and in our choices and avoidances. In other words, we must actively interpret the doctrines and use them as moral agents in the real world. The doctrines furnish theory, and we must furnish praxis.

Conclusion

Epicurus advises us to passively and actively deliberate on his doctrines and teachings both by ourselves (private meléta, which takes the form of reading, repetition, memorizing, and evaluating the doctrines against empirical case studies) and with others who are of like mind (conversations with friends, as well as indirectly by studying the writings of other Epicureans and learning from their own process of meléta).

Continue Reading: Epicurus’ Instructions on Meleta, Part II
Upar and Onar: On Correct and Incorrect Activity and Rest

PD 6: On Methods of Exegesis

Over the last few weeks, I have been publishing essays expounding the Principal Doctrines. It has been a very enjoyable intellectual exercise. I’ve learned that it’s an error to take the PD’s for granted and to think that we know everything there is to know about them. In the process of writing these essays, I have been considering the various methods of exegesis that are available to us, and what method(s) might be the most useful for each PD.

The Contextual Method

My main method has been to try to reconstruct or discern (based on the text) what discussions or conversations took place among the founders, that led to these statements being established as authoritative conclusions of the Garden. I’m calling this the method of contextualization.

Clearly, the founders meant for the 40 Principal Doctrines to stand separate from the rest of the textual evidence we have. They are meant to be the forty most important ideas that a student must either revere or study (or both). By what line of thinking, by what arguments, did these 40 conclusions attain their superior status? I began to evaluate this in my study of PDs 24 and 28, on the utility of dogmatism.

The Literal Method

Another method of exegesis (that is, interpretation) is to stick to the literal translation of the text. If we know the original Greek language, we may focus on the anticipation–the initial empirical attestation and conception of each word–in order to deconstruct each PD word-for-word, and glean clarity. These two methods are not mutually exclusive, and are both useful and necessary. 

We know from sermons given by Epicurus–like the one Against empty words–that the founders were very adamant on using clear, concise language. They went as far as coining new terms when conventional language failed, as attested again by their own theory of the evolution of language. So there was no frivolous expression in the PD’s … but then there’s PD 6.

This is a case where the literal reconstruction and the anticipation of each word is necessary because the choice of words in the original was apparently so awkward, so specific, and attempted to be so clear, that most modern readers get lost in translation. So I had to contact a member of the Society of Friends of Epicurus who knows Greek, Panos, who helped me to get a grasp of what the words actually mean. Here is the original:

ἕνεκα τοῦ θαρρεῖν ἐξ ανθρώπων ἦν κατὰ φύσιν ἀρχῆς καὶ βασιλείας ἀγαθόν, ἐξ ὧν ἄν ποτε τοῦτο οἷός τʼᾖ παρασκευάζεσθαι.

This was translated by Hicks as:

In order to obtain security from other people any means whatever of procuring this was a natural good.

It’s not clear to me why he used the past tense (“was a natural good”). If that’s in the original, it may mean that the original doctrine was meant to justify some event or action taken in the past. The Church of Epicurus translation says:

The natural good of public office and kingship is for the sake of getting confidence from [other] men, [at least] from those from whom one is able to provide this.

In this translation, we can appreciate the common interpretation of the PD as justifying ANY form of government that procures security. We could also interpret it as meaning that security is one of (but not the only) the reasons or purposes for setting up a form of government. And the Peter St. Andre translation says:

It is a natural benefit of leadership and kingship to take courage from other men (or at least from the sort of men who can give one courage).

Security, confidence, and courage all mean different things in English. The Epicuros site in modern Greek language has a version of the PD’s, the sixth of which Panos translates from modern Greek as:

With the goal of acquiring security against people, there was (always) the natural good of dominance and of kingship, through which (someone) could sometimes achieve this.

According to Panos,

I get a kinda opposite meaning of what I see in other translations. But it’s a pretty hard sentence to accurately translate …

Because of being afraid of people is right by the nature of authority and dominion, from which things (authority and dominion) if ever be able to prepare (against).

So basically the idea I get is:

It’s right to be prepared against people, just in case, because of oppression and authority.

… It does not say “it’s ok to use oppression and authority” as some translations I saw.

So the PD does not justify violence (which would go against the doctrines on justice based on avoiding mutual harm and seeking mutual benefit), or the overthrow of government (which would be out of line with the non-political nature of our ethics). Here is how Panos breaks down the words:

ἕνεκα: on account of (/regarding // because of)

τοῦ θαρρεῖν ἐξ ανθρώπων: the (tharrein)* from people
–*Tharrein: this word can mean either (a) to be afraid of, or (b) to take courage from!

ἦν κατὰ φύσιν: it was by nature (/quality)

ἀρχῆς: of authority

καὶ βασιλείας: and of dominion (/kingship)

ἀγαθόν, : good (morally good)

ἐξ ὧν : from which (genitive plural)

ἄν ποτε : at some time (/if ever)

τοῦτο: that thing (accusative sing.)

οἷός τʼᾖ : he is able (γʹ ενικ. υποτ. Ενεργ. ενεστ. | 3rd sing. subjunctive active present )

παρασκευάζεσθαι. : to be ready (/prepared)

And again:

ἕνεκα τοῦ θαρρεῖν ἐξ ανθρώπων
because of the (tharrein) from people

ἦν κατὰ φύσιν ἀρχῆς καὶ βασιλείας ἀγαθόν
it was morally good by nature of authority and dominion

ἐξ ὧν
from which (plural which: so the which must refer to: “authority and dominion”)

ἄν ποτε τοῦτο
if ever that thing (which thing? τουτο is neutral accusative singular, so it is talking about a singular neutral object. From the words above, the only candidates are αγαθόν, and θαρρείν (tharrein). I think the only word that makes sense is tharrein…)

οἷός τʼᾖ παρασκευάζεσθαι
he is able (to be) prepare(d)
(so this is subjunctive active which is something like: I expect you prepare. It’s really hard to translate exactly but it’s not that important.)

With Panos finally concluding:

So the way I am seeing this:

Because of being afraid of people is right by the nature of authority and dominion, from which things (authority and dominion) if ever be able to prepare (against).

From all that I’ve read, it seems clear to me that the Hicks translation is flawed. It says

In order to obtain security from other people any means whatever of procuring this was a natural good.

Hicks makes an absolute claim that seems out of place in Epicurean philosophy, where all choices and avoidances must be subjected to hedonic calculus. I do not see mention of “any means necessary” in the original, and I suspect this translation may appeal to people with certain military ideas.

I wish to thank Panos for his assistance. The process we see above is the literal method, which seeks to know the initial pre-conception that belongs to each word chosen for this PD, and which assumes and trusts that the founders chose their words very carefully.

PD 6 in Light of Other Surviving Passages

The idea of the PD is that security is a natural and necessary pleasure. This idea is also expressed in the Epistle to Menoeceus, so it seems indigenous and accurate within an Epicurean list of key opinions.

PD 6 appears to justify (limited) (service to a) political power or civic engagement for the sake of safety. Vatican Saying 39 associates friendship with “help in the future”, and links true friendship with safety. Vatican Saying 67 criticizes “servility to mobs and monarchs“, and seems to imply that we get more safety from friends than from politics. Finally, VS 80 posits a (partly) attitudinal definition of security, one that is in the soul and not in the realm of society or politics: 

The first measure of security is to watch over one’s youth and to guard against what makes havoc of all by means of maddening desires.

A young man’s share in deliverance comes from watching over the prime of his life and warding off what will ruin everything through frenzied desires. (Monadnock translation)

VS 80 is a salvific passage. It uses the word “soterías” in the original. Soter means Savior. Epicurus was seen as a Savior by later generations because of his salvific doctrine. PD’s 10-13 also discuss a form of attitudinal safety: by learning a scientific account of the nature of things, we protect ourselves from superstition. PD 14 concludes this discussion:

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.

In light of context, PD 6 does not refer to this attitudinal sense of safety in the soul (as PDs 10-14 do), or being safe from limitless desires. It also does not refer to weapons or warfare, or constitute a call to violence. The later Lucretian jeremiad (in Book V) against the propagation of weapons after metal working was discovered, and Philodemus’ advice in On Property Management against taking up a military career, appear to confirm a general lack of affinity for warfare among the ancient Epicureans.

Based on the textual evidence we have seen, we may conclude that the necessary measure of safety for an Epicurean is mainly attained by association with friends and by avoiding certain people (PD 39). I will close with Panos’ suggested translation, and with an invitation to all sincere students to study these texts on their own.

It’s right to be prepared against people, just in case, because of oppression and authority.

PDs 32, 37 and 38 and the Moral Problem of Slavery

“But you only understanding the language of the sword” – Lyrics from Krigsgaldr (the Song of the Sword), by Heilung

Those animals which are incapable of making covenants with one another, to the end that they may neither inflict nor suffer harm, are without either justice or injustice. And those tribes which either could not or would not form mutual covenants to the same end are in like case. – Principal Doctrine 32

What does PD 32 mean, in practice? As regards to examples of people who have neither the power nor the desire of making a covenant to not harm or be harmed, we can think of warlike primitive humans, cannibals, or cognitively deficient humans who are incapable of communication and of understanding. These may fall within the category of those who are incapable of abiding by laws or rules. As for those who are unwilling, I think of the Vandals, Goths, and other Barbarian, “uncivilized” (lawless) tribes that sacked and invaded Roman lands. I also think of the Orcs from Lord of the Rings, terrorists, and anyone who is armed and unwilling to abide by laws against violence and against murder. If a person or group invades your home and is obviously unwilling to “agree to not harm”, then we have to do whatever we have to do for the sake of self-defense. It says there is no injustice (no contract or oath was violated), but there’s also no justice because this would have happened in a wild state of nature, in an uncivilized, lawless state of nature.

While Hobbes argued (in his Leviathan) that people in this lawless state can be “tamed” with a strong state and with strong laws, the Epicurean doctrines of justice create a category of wild, uncivilized humans, tribes, and animals that is separate from those that are domesticated or civilized–who are described as able to agree to not harm or be harmed. These contracts of mutual benefit and of non-violence are explained also by Lucretius in a passage (in Book V) on the origins of friendship and compassion for the weak. The bottom line is that civilized tribes and humans live by a legal code of some sort, whether a rudimentary one (an unwritten, tribal code of honor that may include an agreement not to kill or abuse members of one’s own tribe) or a complex system of laws (like those of modern countries). Wild animals and humans, on the other hand, do not have such a code and–since they live in a wild, lawless state and obey “the law of the jungle”–might make unreliable neighbors.

Laws are created not for the wise (who are naturally harmless to others), but for the unwise. But a code of laws is no guarantee that people will abide by them. We see in Diogenes’ Wall Inscription, that the Epicureans seem to have always expressed doubt as to whether many people (in particular, religious people) are able to abide by the laws out of fear of divine punishment. What does this mean? It means that the state (or the religion) and its laws are not enough to safeguard our security, since some people will not abide by the laws, and will live in a wild state even in places that offer the possibility of lawful coexistence. In these cases, there is neither justice nor injustice. In other words, we must engage in self-defense if we are attacked.

As history demonstrates, there are no gods who will come down and punish those who enslave others. There is no absolute or eternal justice. Humans invented the laws and humans must re-write them. Humans must figure out that a practice is disadvantageous or immoral, and reform themselves. Humans must also enforce whatever rules they set for their societies.

This doctrine tacitly accepts the possibility that some animals may be able to come to agreements with us. There are pods of dolphins in Brazil that have developed a habit of fishing together with human fishermen, with both species developing efficient communication techniques, and both groups enjoying the fruits of their work. In his sermon on moral development, Epicurus dedicated some time to discussing predators like sharks, and other beasts of whom we have the expectation that they will be wild (it must be added here that in that same sermon, Epicurus defends the idea of moral development–which is another important benefit of PD’s 37-38: they allow for laws and contracts to evolve with us). On the other hand, we have more noble expectations from humans and other domesticated animals because they are, well, domesticated–if not civilized. Recent years have seen a trend where certain species are being categorized as “non human persons” due to their high intelligence, and it is not entirely clear where they may fall in terms of justice and the ability to agree to not harm, although once trust is established (as we see in many research projects with apes), we observe that even humans can be accepted into the tribes of these higher animals. We likewise see in domestic animals an ability to abide by house rules, which we do not see in wild animals.

Other tacit teachings within this doctrine are that justice exists only for the civilized, and that it requires efficient communication (at least enough to have an agreement between two persons).

The PD’s and Slavery

The issue of slavery was brought up by Alan recently, as having moral clarity with regards to this issue is often seen as a litmus test for whether a moral system is useful and compatible with civilized life and with modern society.

There are various ways in which people in antiquity became slaves. The main way was debt-based slavery: less wealthy people signed a contract requiring to pay back money lent to them by wealthier people or institutions. If the debt remained unpaid by a certain date, then the person had to pay with their service or slavery for a period of time agreed upon, until the debt was entirely paid back.

There has never been a clear boundary between debt and slavery, even today. If a person today is in debt, that person must get involved in wage slavery or indented servitude, giving a bank or lender the fruits of their labor until the debt is paid.

This form of indented slavery (ancient or modern) is based on a mutual agreement, and the only way in which we can avoid debt-based slavery is by making these contracts illegal.

However, all or most Africans who were abducted unfairly and sold into slavery 400 years ago were, in all likelihood, not in debt.

Africans who were enslaved 400 years ago had the ability and the willingness to abide by laws or agreements of mutual benefit and of not harming or being harmed. They were taken against their will, which is unjust.

Slavery, and the Problem of Non-Consent

A black African person who was captured 400 years ago and enslaved, would have been able and willing to enter into covenants–at least as able as the black Africans who sold him. But they were denied consent.

Consent of the governed is found in the Declaration of Independence, and is a foundational political concept in the West. It gives moral legitimacy to a government and to a legal system. We could argue that today consent is given by voting into power a representative in government, in addition to the process of signing a contract.

Can Slavery Have Been Useful for Mutual Association?

So one Epicurean argument against slavery is that Principal Doctrine 32, when requiring that creatures be able and willing to abide by agreements and laws, contains a tacit taboo against non-consent. PD’s 37 and 38, on the other hand, make a definite value judgment and moral judgment in the cases where consent has been given. A person (the enslaver, in this case) who denies consent to another is attempting to recede back to the wild state of nature.

Among the things accounted just by conventional law, whatever in the needs of mutual association is attested to be useful, is thereby stamped as just, whether or not it be the same for all; and in case any law is made and does not prove suitable to the usefulness of mutual association, then this is no longer just. And should the usefulness which is expressed by the law vary and only for a time correspond with the prior conception, nevertheless for the time being it was just, so long as we do not trouble ourselves about empty words, but look simply at the facts. – Principal Doctrine 37

A fellow Epicurean asked me to interpret “whether or not it be the same for all”. My immediate thought was of instances where it is of mutual advantage for people with different skills to agree to do different things in the pursuit of a shared goal. This scenario is most often seen in work places. A great mathematician may agree to work as the accountant of the firm, a great manual laborer may agree to do the manual work and train others to do so, a good cook may prepare lunch for all workers, etc.

In the US and many countries, judges are considered prepared to judge among parties once they are sworn in. Other citizens are expected to abide by their judgments. Everyone can not be a judge, or a legislator, or a business owner. A society where everyone fulfills the same role is not a functional society. So justice is not about equal duties.

In PD 38, we are invited to judge laws by their consequences. This raises many other interesting moral questions concerning laws that have been recently abolished: we may think of the many detrimental consequences of the war on drugs (massive incarceration for victimless crimes, squandering of police resources, expenses of imprisonment for the tax-payer, inability to tax a huge industry, etc.) or of the illegality of gay marriage (closeted gay people marrying the opposite sex, and then being unhappy and unfaithful). Here, the disadvantages did not seem to justify the advantages of the legality of consuming cannabis and gay marriage.

Where without any change in circumstances the conventional laws, when judged by their consequences, were seen not to correspond with the notion of justice, such laws were not really just; but wherever the laws have ceased to be useful in consequence of a change in circumstances, in that case the laws were for the time being just when they were useful for the mutual association of the citizens, and subsequently ceased to be just when they ceased to be useful. – Principal Doctrine 38

Was slavery at one time useful for the mutual association of the citizens? Well, the institution of slavery (for instance, in the Americas) caused lives of misery for millions, huge security concerns, huge cruelty, a Civil War where thousands died, and its legacy created and perpetuated levels of inequality that are still today generating social unrest. Anyone who claims that slaves “would give them (or the enslavers) pleasure” and tries to justify slavery based on pure hedonism, is not expressing an Epicurean view–since we must walk with Pleasure, but also with Prudence and Justice. This is why some of us modern Epicureans take the liberty to criticize the hypocrisy of slavery in Jefferson and ancient Epicureans, even if we understand that those were different times.

Since–as we have seen–Blacks who were enslaved in the Americas were denied the opportunity to consent to the covenant into which they were inserted, it is impossible to argue for mutual advantage in slavery without considering how it was experienced in the bodies, minds, and realities of the Blacks. Due to the problem of non-consent, slavery in the Americas was carried out in a state of wilderness, of lawlessness, regardless of whether slavery was legal. It did not emerge out of contractual agreements or as a form of debt.

If 500 years ago, Africans had invaded and pillaged Europe (if they had been the original aggressors instead of being abducted into slavery), a different situation would have emerged, one where non-law-abiding humans would have inserted themselves into law-abiding societies with a clear unwillingness to agree not to harm others. This would have made imprisonment, enslavement, or violence a measure of self-defense for those invaded. But this was not the case.

I wish to accentuate, once again, that these PD’s give a definite moral judgment. They say “this is just / unjust”. While there is no absolute, de-contextualized or Platonic morality, the PD’s do not remain silent with regards to giving moral judgment. PD’s can be applied to modern legal codes, and to codes of honor, to certify whether they are just (even if for a time) based on utility for mutual association.

Let’s consider what it means to say that laws may change, depending on circumstances, in order to become just or to abolish injustice: this means that laws are man-made and what laws man has invented, man can abolish or change. There is no room for divine laws or superstition in any legal code certified by an Epicurean. It also creates the possibility of collective moral development, of self-betterment for individuals and their societies–for which the PD’s furnish guidelines based on mutual advantage, and for which we may apply public frank criticism, if this is advantageous.

Conclusion

And so, to summarize, the main Epicurean arguments against slavery as an institution are:

  1. Since there is no mutual benefit in slavery, laws that allowed for slavery by abduction were unjust. It’s not clear how Epicurus acquired his slaves, but it’s clear that Jefferson engaged in an unjust practice.
  2. The denial of consent problem presents a set of moral questions that have not been tackled effectively by later generations of Epicurean thinkers, and requires a deepening of our studies. My suggestion is that this is one of the implied requirements of contractarian justice, which is based on mutual agreements to not harm or be harmed.
  3. There is no absolute or divine, unchanging justice. We do not see evidence for divine enforcement of our laws in the study of nature. Humans invented the laws and contracts, and humans must re-write them when this is advantageous.
  4. The Principal Doctrines 37-38 do not shy away from giving moral judgment in cases where laws are not beneficial for mutual association. Epicurean philosophers may either draft our contracts, or issue opinions concerning the prevalent laws in our societies, based on these guidelines.
  5. Epicurean doctrines establish two categories of animals: those who are wild and uncivilized (incapable or unwilling to abide by laws and agreements), and those who are civilized (law-abiding and contract-abiding). Justice and injustice only exist for the civilized, while the former live like beasts.

PD 8: The Doctrine of Deferred Gratification

The practice of calculating hedons and dolons (units of pleasure and pain) in order to arrive at a path of action that leads to net pleasure was invented by the Cyrenaic pleasure philosopher known as Anniceris, who is sometimes called a “proto-Epicurean”. In Epicurean writings, hedonic calculus is also spoken of in terms of measuring advantages versus disadvantages. PD 8 is a simple observation that justifies hedonic calculus. It calls for occasional deferred gratification. It says:

No pleasure is bad in itself; but the means of paying for some pleasures bring with them disturbances many times greater than the pleasures themselves.

In his Epistle to Menoeceus, Epicurus elaborated the process of hedonic calculus:

And because this is the primary and inborn good, we do not choose every pleasure. Instead, we pass up many pleasures when we will gain more of what we need from doing so. And we consider many pains to be better than pleasures, if we experience a greater pleasure for a long time from having endured those pains. So every pleasure is a good thing because its nature is favorable to us, yet not every pleasure is to be chosen — just as every pain is a bad thing, yet not every pain is always to be shunned. It is proper to make all these decisions through measuring things side by side and looking at both the advantages and disadvantages, for sometimes we treat a good thing as bad and a bad thing as good.

The easiest examples of this doctrine are found in our natural limits to drugs or alcohol, and to food. For instance, I can generally drink one beer and enjoy it, but by the second or third beer, I typically do not like how I feel, so I avoid drinking the second beer. I also remember the dehydration and other symptoms of a hangover, which keep me from being productive the following day. As for food, both gaining weight and the feeling of having eaten too much are unpleasant. One feels lethargic and tired, and one can’t think clearly when one overeats.

Another example of deferred gratification for me was when I decided to finish my college education. I had no social life, was very poor, ate Ramen noodles frequently, and had to work temp jobs on the side to make ends sort-of meet. It was a difficult time at the tail-end of a period of under-employment, but I had set a goal: I wanted to finish what I started years ago. With great pride, I graduated Magna Cum Laude (one of the highest honors). I had chosen a minor in Communication, which led to my book Tending the Epicurean Garden being published. I also started publishing essays in various outlets, all of which had been part of my goal.

Metrodorus of Lampsacus, the co-founder of Epicureanism, often reminded his companions that for the sake of certain goods we have to take certain risks and go through certain difficulties. He was always referring all moral problems to the process of hedonic calculus and to the related process of deferred gratification. He accentuated health and friendship as two goods for the sake of which we go to great lengths and make many sacrifices, because without them we suffer greatly. If we lose a friend or loved one, we suffer, so we may put up with discomforts to help them from time to time. If we lose our health, we suffer, so we may make dietary changes or exercise in order to preserve our health.

Hedonic calculus is the reason why Epicureanism is a hedonism with an asterisk, a qualified hedonism. It’s confusing to call it a hedonist ethics without elaborating on the concept of hedonic calculus and deferred gratification. So if someone ever asks you for a short introduction to Epicurean ethics, do not say it’s “just hedonism”: say it’s a pleasure ethics that calls for a calculated, rational pursuit of pleasure, using hedonic calculus and deferred gratification whenever prudent. If asked about hedonic calculus, you may cite PD 8 and the relevant portion of the Epistle to Menoeceus, or simply explain that it’s a calculation of pleasures versus pains, and/or of advantages versus disadvantages in order to carry out our choices and avoidances successfully (=producing net pleasure).