Letters From An Enthusiast

God or Gods?

It is uncontroversial to state that the Old Testament and the New Testament represent different traditions; not only in the adherence to one or both of these books by Judaism or Christianity, but also in the fundamental shift in thought and action from the Old Testament to the New Testament. Upon closer inspection, a more controversial image is projected. Is the god of the Old Testament the same god as the New Testament? Mainline Christianity would unanimously state yes, as the union of the Old and New Testaments are essential to the well being and structural integrity of their religious system. Others would state that the Old Testament god is indeed a different and distinct entity from the New Testament god. In order to arrive at a proper conclusion, it is necessary to examine the original conception of “God” to the Jews and the Christians, and then compare their respective developments in order to understand if the Bible portrays one and the same deity, or distinct and separate deities.

 Judaism falls into the larger religious environment of the Ancient Near East, sharing similar customs and rituals with the Levant religions, including the Phoenician religion, and the religions of Sumeria, Babylon, and Assyria. Within this context, it is proper to assume that the earliest form of Judaic religion encompassed the polytheistic tendencies of its neighbors. Modern scholars, in fact, call pre-Abrahamic Judaism henotheistic (after the works of the prominent German scholar Max Mϋller), meaning that the early Jews believed in the existence of a large number of deities but excluded themselves to the strict devotion to only one of the gods (a similarity to this can be found in the revolution in Egyptian religion whereby Akhenaten tried to impose the strict worship of Aten in favor of all the other gods). Elements of the belief in more than one god can be found within the Old Testament itself, hinting at the earlier polytheistic beliefs of the Jews. Linguistically, Elohim and Adonai, two words used extensively in the Old Testament to refer to god, are plural nouns. This plurality is shown in Genesis 1:26, where it states, “And God [Elohim] said, Let us make man in our image.”[1] The Babylonian Captivity and the arrival of Abraham seems to mark a turning point in the development of Judaism, as Abraham made a covenant with Yahweh (the Hebrew god) that his people would worship only Yahweh, abandoning all the other gods. This strict covenant slowly began the degeneration of Judaic henotheism in favor of a new Judaic monotheism. Nevertheless, it is within this Near Eastern framework that many of the actions of Yahweh can be understood: his anger and wrath[2], his demand for law (as codified in the Ten Commandments and the Torah) and a strict adherence to a religious code, and his offer of salvation via qualitative adherence to this law. Save the monotheism, the other structural components of Judaism shared similarities with the other religions in the Near East.

 To understand Christianity, one must properly begin in Thrace. The very first known mystery cult in the Greco-Roman culture began in Thrace, where the worship of Dionysus and Sabazius found its way into mainland Greece, spreading and duplicating like a wildfire. Soon, many other mystery cults appeared, be they more original Greek beliefs like the Eleusinian Mysteries, Thracian Orphic Mysteries, or more Eastern Egyptian Isis Mysteries and Persian Mithras Mysteries. By the time of the birth of Christ, almost every major religion or religious segment had a corresponding mystery cult, save Judaism. But as Israel was conquered first by the Greeks, and later by the Romans, Greco-Roman ideas and culture slowly began to fuse itself with the native Jewish culture. It was thus inevitable that a new mystery cult would arise based upon the beliefs of Judaism: Christianity. Like most other mystery cults, Christianity based itself upon the mother religion (Judaism), and added a new set of customs (most mystery religions had a bread and wine ceremony, akin to the Christian Communion), and a new personal path for salvation via the resurrected savior[3].  Thus from the offset, Christianity differed dramatically from Judaism in regards to salvation; Judaism believed in salvation via adherence to the Law, whereas Christianity believed in salvation via the acceptance of Christ as savior. As the religion developed, other differences emerged as well, with Christianity abandoning the strict adherence to the law. The sacrifice of Christ and his compassion towards people also caused Christians to slowly begin to view their deity in a more optimistic and benevolent light. Thus the formation of the religion saw the need to restructure their supreme deity to fit the requirements of benevolence and compassion that Jesus taught. Like most other mystery cults, Christianity began as an obscure branch of Judaism which eventually, in order to justify its beliefs and strengthen its own religious structure, evolved to the point of being a separate and distinct religion.

 It is apparent to a neutral outside observer that Judaism and the god of the Old Testament is quite different from Christianity and the god of the New Testament. Where Yahweh was a Semitic/Near Eastern deity who evolved out of a completely Near Eastern environment, possessing extreme wrath, anger, and judgment, and offering a path of salvation via adherence to a law code, God the Father was an amalgamation of Semitic/Near Eastern religious attitudes and Greco-Roman religious attitudes, possessing benevolence and compassion, and offering a path of salvation via the new savior of mankind, Jesus Christ. The distinct nature of the two deities does not necessarily mean that a Jew or a Christian would believe in the incorporeal existence of two deities, but rather that the god of the Old Testament was different from the god from the New Testament. Attempts to explain this away have given rise to a number of wild stories which hold no serious philosophical or logical validity (for indeed, how could an omnipotent, omnibenevolent, omniscient being “change”?). However, to a neutral observer, it is clear that a religious evolution took place when the Judaic tradition came in contact with the Hellenistic tradition, spawning a child much different than, and at the same time a combination of, its parents. The question then of whether or not there are two deities can be answered with a firm yes, understood in the context that the Old Testament, embodying the Judaic faith, is only compatible with the New Testament, embodying the Christian faith, to the extent to which a child possesses the same genetic attributes of one of his parents: partial and important similarities, but at the same time, keen and distinct differences, leading to the development of an entirely new entity altogether. 

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[1] Cf. Genesis 3:22; 11:7; Isaiah 6:8.

[2] See 2 Samuel 6:6-11, Numbers 16:16-49, 1 Kings 20:30, 1 Samuel 6:19, and 2 Kings 2:23-24.

[3] Cf. the ideas of resurrection, salvation by a savior, and god coming down as a mortal in the mystery cults of Orpheus, Isis, Serapis, and Mithras.

John, Faust, Plato, Aristotle

    John 1:1, in the New Testament, states, "In the beginning was the word."  In Koine Greek, the word logos means, "something said (e.g. word; saying;message; teaching; talk)."  About 1.5 thousand years later, Goethe, through his character Faust, took a very interesting take on this passage.  At 1224-1237, Faust says:
                    "'In the beginning was the Word': why, now
                    I'm struck already! I must change that; how?
                    Is then 'the word' so great and high a thing?
                    There is some other rendering.
                    Which with the spirit's guidance I must find.
                    We read: 'In the beginning was the Mind.'
                    Before you write this first phrase, think again;
                    Good sense eludes the overhasty pen.
                    Does 'mind' set worlds on their creative course?
                    It means: 'In the beginning was the Force.'
                    So it should be-but as I write this too,
                    Some instinct warns me that this will not do.
                    The spirit speaks! I see how it must read,
                    And boldly write, 'In the beginning was the Deed!'"
If one reads this without much thought, you would accuse Goethe of merely tossing the mind, or reason, aside.  However, I think the implications here are much deeper, stemming back to that eternal debate between Plato and Aristotle: thought or action, word or deed?
    Plato says that pure knowledge is sufficient, that if one merely knows what the good is, then someone will be good.  Aristotle, on the other hand, rejects this notion.  Aristotle states that knowledge alone is not sufficient, but rather it takes action.  It is not the man who knows what the good is, but who actually does it!  Suppose that you were getting ready to get on an airplane, and you had to choose between two pilots.  One had read all the manuals, knew all the physics, mechanics, and engineering behind flight and the airplane, had seen a thousand how-to videos on flying, but had actually never flown a plane.  The other guy started out as an apprentice to a pilot, observing what he does and how he does it, slowly beginning to a fly a plane on his own, until eventually now he has been flying for twenty years.  Which pilot would you choose?
    One could argue against this point with the maxim, "Think before you act."  However, I do not think that this maxim applies-the real debate is not between pure thought and pure action, but rather how one relates to the world.  Are you an Ivory Towered intellectual, sitting away at your armchair, deducing how the world works?  Or, are you likened to a child again, constantly examining the world, taking in as much experience as possible, and from this forming your ideas?  Philosophically, this distinction is called deductive versus inductive reasoning.  Plato and John would state that the world must be understood via deductive reasoning, by starting first with the "word", with the "idea", and taking this "knowledge" and then applying it to the world.  Aristotle, Goethe, and Ayn Rand would state that the world must be understood via inductive reasoning, by starting first with the "deed", with the "action", and taking a collection of the knowledge gained via experience, organizing it in our head, finding a common denominator between actions, and forming our ideas from the world.
    Of course it stands to reason that if your "word" is based upon previous experience and subsequent reasonings, then it is okay to use this knowledge in order to apply it to future situations.  This is not deductive reasoning.  But what always must be remembered is that before the "word" came the "deed", and a mind which constantly seeks the real through the active process of experiencing the world will be safely able to fly the plane of life.

America, Beware...

     America is facing a danger much greater than the liberals or the conservative Christians, more ominous than postmodernism or her intellectuals, more insiduous even than Islamofascism.  This may seem odd coming from me, lover of Capitalism, material success, and secularism.  The danger is oppulence, or more specifically, how the average citizen handles such wealth.  The West has survived long enough under the burden of hideous philosophy and despicable politicians, a battle which is valiantly being fought by Objectivism.  But no movement today is correctly battling the wide acceptance by the average person of hedonism.  As I have displayed earlier in what I wrote concerning Aristotle and Hedonism, it is hedonism that has the ability to corrupt the very morality and sense of life of the average citizen in such a way that the pursuit of better values is seemingly impossible. 

     Wealth is a very funny thing; indeed, a double-edged sword.  For while it can provide a society with the greatest of benefits, ranging from the basic requirements of food, health, and shelter, to a greater enjoyment of life in nice clothes, nice food, a nice house, music, movies, cell phones, and computers, wealth also has the ability to destroy a society who does not know how to properly use and handle money.  Historically, one need only look at Classical Athens, a society who at one time gave the world some of its greatest philosopy, art, science, literature, which in a matter of only one hundred years lost herself in her own oppulence and wealth; a society who defeated the Persians at Marathon so spectacularly eventually was utterly defeated by the Macedonians due to the effete and oppulent nature of the Athenian population.  Rome, too, offers a historical anecdote, for the once mighty, masculine, and virtuous Rome who defeated Hannibal and conquered the entire known world eventually succumbed, in its own hedonism, to the barbaric and savage German tribes who at one time had been nothing but a mere annoyance.

     Even Ayn Rand noticed this distinction in wealth, and the virtue of proper wealth management, in her novel "Atlas Shrugged".  Notice the difference between characters like Dagny Taggart or Hank Rearden who properly managed their wealth, living almost Stoic lives, using wealth in a proper manner to afford them an enjoyable life.  Contrast this with characters like Jim Taggart, who improperly squandered his wealth on such hedonistic things as parties, alcohol, flagrant wealth, and sex.  Those who enjoyed their wealth properly lived very virtuous and moral lives, allowing money to add to their existence, while those who improperly used wealth lived highly immoral lives and ultimately were faced with a sad and miserable future.

     It is very difficult to see this distinction between proper and improper use of wealth.  Yet the problem with wealth lies not as much with the older generations, who had grown up with a proper moral structure which by the time of America's oppulence had had proper moral habits to combat this influence, but the youth who, though many had been properly raised, had not ingrained within themselves the moral habits strong enough to withstand the onslought of hedonism.  The nihilistic and destructive nature of hedonism means that these youths, so ingrained in their clubs, parties, drinking, and sexuality would be lucky to escape in time to turn out okay as they age, for many will sadly suffer the effete laziness and apathy that results from a hedonistic lifestyle.  Who needs war when we could have peace?  Where is the government to help us out of our crises? they shout from the comfort of their padded lifestyle.  The Iranians are not our enemy, they just think differently than us, but we are bad for judging them upon our standards-they cry as they sip their Starbuck's Mocha Frapuccinos, their iPods in their ears and their laptops at their side.

     The solution, then, must be a campaign by these people's friends and families, by your average Joe, who realizes the dangers of hedonism and oppulence, to stop the tide of our demise before we too will be faced with a Macedon or a Vandal whom we cannot control.

---Jason Roberts

Aristotle and Hedonism

 In the Nichomachean Ethics, Aristotle has two primary discussions of pleasure: the first at VII.xi-xiv and the second at X.i-v. The nature of the relationship between these two discussions and the subsequent debate amongst scholars serves no purpose here. Thus, what is required is a brief explanation of Aristotle’s views in both sections.

 Aristotle begins, in VII.xi, by examining three critical views of pleasure. Having just finished his discussion of continence and incontinence, Aristotle characteristically beings his discussion of a new topic by examining popular views and conceptions of that topic. The purpose of studying pleasure, he states, is because:

   “The study of pleasure and pain is the task of the political philosopher,     because he is the master  craftsman who decides the end which is the standard by which we call any given thing good or  bad without qualification. Besides, the examination of pleasure and pain is one of our necessary  tasks, because we have established that moral virtue and vice are concerned with pains and  pleasures; and the great majority of people maintain that happiness involves pleasure (whish is  why the word for ‘blessed’ is derived from a word meaning ‘to rejoice’).”[1]

After stating his purpose, Aristotle delves straight away into three common criticisms. The three arguments can be summarized as such: (1) Pleasure is not a good at all, (2) Not all pleasures are good, and (3) Pleasure is not the supreme good. In response to (1), Aristotle states that there are two types of good: absolute (objective) and relative (subjective). A good also can either be an activity (walking) or a state (contemplation). As such, some pleasures have an opposite pain or deficiency while other pleasures exist in a natural state containing no deficiency and as such are pleasurable in relation to the individual and the situation. Also, Aristotle makes the claim that pleasure is not a process[2] but an activity, and thus are an end in themselves. Aristotle prefers to call pleasures ‘an activity of our natural state’, and ‘unimpeded’. Aristotle continues to state that pleasure, when in its proper state, cannot hinder any other activity and thought because proper pleasure actually encourage proper activities and thoughts. Aristotle finally concludes his refutation of point (1) by stating that pleasure is not a product of any kind of art because an art never produces an activity. Thus, in relation to his other refutations, pleasure is not found in certain products in and of themselves but in relation to the individual and the product. As to argument (2), Aristotle answers this argument through a synthesis of his replies to (1) and (3). Thus he continues directly from his response to argument (1) to his response to argument (3) by stating that argument (2) does not necessarily disprove argument (3)-meaning that, if not all pleasures were bad, then there is no justification for why pleasure is not the Supreme Good. He then states that, if the unimpeded exercise of a faculty is a pleasure, then pleasure must be the supreme good because the good or virtuous man will exercise his proper faculties in an unimpeded manner. Thus, because happiness is perfect, the exercise of an unimpeded faculty is pleasurable, and an unimpeded activity is perfect, it is reasonable to assume then that pleasure following perfection is supremely good alongside happiness (though of course, Aristotle is careful to stress that this must indeed be the proper exercise of a faculty in order to achieve a proper pleasure). Aristotle then surveys nature, stating that because all animals and human beings desire pleasure and shun pain, pleasure must be the supreme good. This leads him to state that the reason pleasure is commonly understood only in relation to bodily pleasures is because this type of pleasure is the most common amongst all humans.  Aristotle finishes his criticism of the three arguments by stating that pleasure must be a good because the life of the happy man must be pleasant, and the happy life is good. If the happy man’s life were not pleasant, then pleasure would not be a good, and the happy life would not be what everyone seeks.

 After examining the different arguments against pleasure, Aristotle seeks to classify the different types or kinds of pleasure. Aristotle essentially portrays two major categories of pleasure: bodily and noble. He then begins to describe the nature of bodily actions, defending why they are not, as many other philosophers had said, bad or immoral in and of themselves. Using the principle of opposites, he states that because the opposite of pleasure is pain, and because pain is bad, it stands to reason that pleasure then is good. Moreover, the good and moral/virtuous man does not have to worry about bodily pleasures turning into licentious excess because his habits are good in such a way that correlationally his pursuit of bodily pleasures will be proper. He continues on to give two major points as two why bodily pleasures are so desirable. The first is that pleasures drive out pain; the more intense the pain, the more intense the pleasure. Thus bodily pleasures act, in once sense remedially to cure pain. Secondly, bodily pleasures being intense, people pursue these pleasures because of this intensity. If the pleasure is harmless, then Aristotle does not view this pursuit of intensity as a bad thing. However, if the pleasure entails some sort of harm, then Aristotle views this pursuit as bad. Thus Aristotle states that licentiousness and viciousness arrive when people do not have the moral fortitude to properly gain pleasure out of the proper things, instead substituting pleasure for other sources of enjoyment. Aristotle concludes his discussion of pleasure in VII.xiv by reiterating the point that pleasures which do not contain an accompanying pain do not contain or do not admit to excess.

 Aristotle picks back up his discussion of pleasure at X.i, after a lengthy discussion of friendship, by stating that:

 “After this our next task is presumably to discuss pleasure; for it is generally agreed that pleasure  is very closely bound up with human nature; which is why those who are educating the young  keep them straight by the use of pleasure and pain. It is also thought to be most important for the  forming of a virtuous character to like and dislike the right things; because pleasure and pain  permeate the whole of life, and have a powerful influence upon virtue and the happy life, since  people choose what is pleasant and avoid what is painful. It would seem most improper, then, to  neglect such important factors, especially since they admit of a great deal of controversy.”[3]

Akin to VII.xi, Aristotle begins by analyzing different views of pleasure. The three main arguments that he analyses are: (1) Pleasure is the Supreme Good, (2) Pleasure is wholly bad, and (3) Some pleasures are bad. In argument (1), he directly addresses the view of the philosopher Eudoxus. Similar to what Aristotle himself previously stated, Eudoxus believed that pleasure is the Supreme Good because every animal, rational and irrational, is drawn to it and seeks it above other things, and thus it must be the Supreme Good. Because pleasure, in this view, is not sought after as a means to something else, but is sought after in and of itself, pleasure must then be the Supreme Good. To this first point Aristotle seems to be in agreement. However, his disagreement with Eudoxus comes later on when Eudoxus states that the addition of pleasure to any good thing makes that thing more desirable. Aristotle states that this views stands in contradiction to the first statement because, if pleasure added to a good makes the good more desirable, then pleasure couldn’t be the Supreme Good because the good which was enhanced by pleasure would be a higher good than pleasure. Aristotle then begins his examination of argument (2) by calling this argument “nonsense”. If every animal, both rational and irrational, sought pleasure, Aristotle states that this argument does not make sense because there is no reason why all animals would strive for the bad. He then goes into a lengthy discussion about pleasure and degree or processes, defending his view that pleasure is not a process but an activity (as explained above; he will also, soon, magnify this distinction). Finally, he examines the view that some pleasures are bad by stating that those “bad pleasures” are not even really pleasures at all because what is pleasant to a bad person, who is not natural, is not the same as what is pleasant to a good person, who is natural. He continues by reiterating his point that some pleasures are good in and of themselves, because they do not have a deficiency, while other pleasures contain a deficiency, and thus must be handled with caution. Aristotle then begins a lengthy discussion as to why he believes that pleasure is not a process (this has been described above). What is most important from this lengthy discussion is that pleasure is whole or complete. He then relates pleasure to activity by stating that, in effect, pleasure is the proper functioning of an activity. Pleasure, if you will, is the gasoline of a car: the gasoline (pleasure) allows the proper activity of the car (to drive) to occur. Different than a car, though, is the fact that pleasure does not start or is not the cause of an activity, but rather is the essence of an activity which maximizes the potential of that activity. To the question of why people do not constantly feel pleasure, Aristotle replies with the answer of fatigue.  Continued use of anything for a prolonged period of time fatigues that something due to the large volume of energy expended, and thus energy must be restored before that something is able to properly function again. Ultimately, Aristotle states that pleasure is essential to life because life itself is an activity, and an activity separated from a pleasure does not function properly at all-thus life devoid of pleasure is not a properly functioning life. Aristotle concludes his treatment of pleasure by pointing out the fact that, so as there are many different kinds of activities, so too are there many different kinds of pleasures. Thus the better pleasures are those that accompany the better activities. The result of this, then, is that the good man will live the most pleasant life because the activities of the good men are the best.

 Though Aristotle has a tendency to fall into complicated digressions, his main view (if it is possible to synthesize the two treatments of pleasure) is that pleasure and an activity are so closely related that they could be viewed as one and the same thing, even though in a certain way they are distinct, and because life requires activity, and the good life requires good activity, the good life will necessarily be pleasurable. A very important distinction must be made, though, between Aristotle’s view of pleasure as the Supreme Good and hedonism, for unlike Aristotle’s view, hedonism is a malady upon mankind which serves no purpose but the destruction of those who faithfully adhere to it.

 Completely antithetical to both Stoicism/Christian Asceticism and Aristotelian ethical theories concerning pleasure is Hedonism. Hedonism, by placing pleasure itself as the Supreme Good, acts as a cancer upon any ethical framework built up either by tradition, religion, parentage, or conscious philosophical adoption by invalidating the need for a framework at all. Akin to pure nihilism, hedonism has no need for ethical guidelines because the only guideline is the maximization of bodily pleasures (whereas in nihilism, the guideline isn’t anything at all). Thus the end, pleasure, is achieved by pursuing anything which brings about a temporary state of the end; sex, alcohol, drugs, and food themselves are the substitutes for virtues such as courage, temperance, magnanimity, or justice. This is due to the fact that, since virtues are the means by which humans mold and guide their lives so that they might achieve their end goal (the good and happy life), no form of molding is needed by the hedonist because the supreme end is almost immediately achievable. Epistemologically speaking, sensation and perception replace reason as primary epistemological tools, sensation and perception being directly correlative to taste and touch (what Aristotle views as inferior sense due to their reliance upon something else, or contact-sight, to Aristotle, requires nothing but the opening of the eyes to actualize the sense, whereas taste and touch require a foreign entity in order to actualize them). Reason and more intellectual pleasures are shunned in favor of bodily pleasures. In discussing temperance at III.xi-xii, Aristotle explains how the licentious man pursues bodily pleasures as opposed to intellectual pleasures because these bodily pleasures are readily available (especially amongst opulent societies) and plentiful. Thus the hedonist approaches and evaluates the world not based upon reason, but based upon animalistic or brutish scales of pleasure-maximization/pain-minimization[4]. Reason then is almost viewed as an enemy, it being the “agent of destruction” which, combined with the inner-voice of traditional morality (a person’s conscious), seeks to destroy hedonism by returning the individual to more normal levels.   

 Even proper states or conceptions of pleasure are destroyed by hedonism, being replaced by range-of-the-moment, whim-based pursuits. In effect, the intellectual is shunned in favor of the physical. To obtain pleasure via the hedonistic virtue of sex, notions of love or meaning (intellectual pursuits) are thrown out in favor of physical pursuits; the aim in the encounter being which partner (or partners) can maximize the amount of pleasure gained. Repetitive encounters with the same pleasure results in diminishing returns, thus making it necessary for the hedonist to seek even greater and more lavish instances of an encounter in order to reach the same level of pleasure as had been previously gained. Thus what once was one sexual partner a month turns into one sexual partner a week; even then, as the pleasure returns from this repetition become diminished, an even larger number of encounters are sought. Eventually, a point will be reached where norm itself is not sufficient (traditional sexual encounters), and thus a new or more obscure encounter is sought (sexual fetishes). This degeneration is not peculiar to sex; in the same way, the glutton increases their normal food intake to the point to where even normal food is insufficient, and thus for different or more rare types of food (eating McDonald’s everyday turns into eating McDonald’s everyday, plus a bag of cookies). Hedonism in this way even works to destroy itself because what once was required to obtain the appropriate level of pleasure is now insufficient to meet the ever-expanding demands of the hedonistic drive. A more proper definition of hedonism might thus be a degenerative motion towards ever-expanding physical pleasures achieved through the sacrifice of the mind to the body.

 The effects of hedonism, of course, are first shown physically as the body is the first area of attack by the cancer. Physical effects of hedonism commonly include such modern day pandemics as obesity and STD’s, though with prolonged continuation, more immediate and serious physical maladies such as liver failure occur[5]. However, as these bodily encounters transform from occasional binge encounters into ingrained habits, the cancer of hedonism begins to spread from the body to the soul or the mind. In regards to sex, the actual meaning of sex itself is destroyed. As a consequence, the sexual hedonist finds himself increasingly unable to have meaningful or long-lasting romantic relationships as he is unable to grasp the principles behind sex and love, instead being able to only view the relationships through the lens of sexual gratification. Other important activities to a romantic relationship, such as deep conversations, cuddling, or spending quality time with one another are viewed as impediments to the actualization of the goal. Where the romantic partner might try and engage in a romantic evening by having a quiet dinner, a glass of wine, and lighting some candles while listening to soft jazz music being played in the background, the hedonist will (not being able to appreciate these details or the higher meaning behind them) become antsy and bored, trying to rush through the “mundane” in order to “get to the good stuff”. Similarly, the hedonist of alcohol tends to ignore drinks of lower alcohol content or more flavorful, expensive drinks in favor of cheaper, more pure alcoholic beverages (the shot of course being a favorite; short and simple, the alcoholic content of one beer is consumed in less than five seconds). Drunkenness is elevated onto a platform, especially when hedonists socialize their “virtues”, creating an arena of competition amongst one another to see who can become the most intoxicated (or who can sleep with the most number of people, in the case of the sexual hedonist). Due to the establishment of these habits within the psyche, the hedonist begins a perilous spiral, racing down the track away from the depression and loneliness within at ever increasing speeds blindly towards the perceived saving grace of greater pleasure. 

 The depression comes about due to the fact that the hedonist never actually achieves anything of value. Since man was endowed by nature with a basic blueprint for proper functioning, though of course volition allows him to discover and follow this blueprint or not, the abdication of this blueprint results in a contradiction between what is and what ought to be, a sort of inner turmoil (the degree to which this turmoil takes place within other systems which, though they do not fully follow nature’s blueprint, maintain a basic level of happiness and success within their life is achieved incidentally to the degree in which the system’s virtues correspond to those set forth by nature). Using modern psychological terms, the hedonist at this point almost gives off the impression of being bipolar due to the rapid fluctuation of emotional/mental states. Having no higher moral basis or intellectual understanding, the hedonist is a slave to whim. Due to the fact that bodily pleasures requires almost no need for teleology, the Supreme Good as bodily pleasure inhibits the growth and development of the psyche, brutishly focusing on the moment-to-moment struggle for gratification. Thus, not only does hedonism replace epistemology and ethics, but it destroys the very framework upon which such a system could be built. Popular hedonists phrases such as, “Live in the moment” and “Live from day to day” exemplify this teleological suicide. Where Christianity places ethics as the ladder to God and Aristotelianism places ethics as the ladder to happiness (each ring of the ladder corresponding to a virtue-though of course, I am not implying that all virtues are equally hierarchical), hedonism does away with the ladder all together, rashly claiming that the end (pleasure) can be found instantly. To the hedonist, the concept of enduring through a trial to achieve better results in the future does not exist because the hedonist has no concept of future. This explains the historical inverse relationship between higher degrees of hedonism and lower production yields or shorter work schedules; the hedonist does not want to work! The problem with the abandonment of teleology all together is that, when the hedonist reaches a stage where he wishes to rise out of his own cesspool, he timidly looks at the ladder of another system, vaguely and childishly attempting to climb seldom tread ground or forgetting how to tread it all together. Thus hedonism entails another danger in that the act of getting out of it is a painful and arduous task. Indeed, unless a Supreme Good has ingrained itself within this individuals mind, allowing them to draw upon the minute yet ever-increasing pleasure gained from striving for said Good, it is very typical that the hedonist either falls back into hedonism or slides into a state of deep depression and turmoil. 

 Very typically, hedonism is not an isolated case within an individual, but exists or comes about in a larger social sphere. In many cases, the hedonist and his friends or social groups resemble a symbiotic mutualism or commensalism. Friendship takes on a new sense as hedonistic individuals aid one another in their quest for ever-greater feats of pleasure. Once traditional acts of friendship, such as bonding time, are redefined in relation to pure pleasure. Though a group of friends might drink such an excessive amount of alcohol that they do not specifically remember what happened or what was said, the event was considered a successful time of bonding (and thus they feel closer to one another) due to the fact that validation (in and of itself a form of pleasure) is received from the other hedonist. This occurrence can even cross over into sibling relationships, where what once was considered bonding between siblings (such as playing a board game, swimming, or drinking coffee and talking late into the night) is transformed into similar hedonistic activities as friends. Indeed, this can even cause strain or damage relationships between a hedonistic sibling or friend and a non-hedonistic sibling or friend due to the hedonistic sibling or friend believing that the non-hedonistic sibling or friend has no desire to bond, and to the non-hedonistic sibling or friend despairing the physical and psychic demise of their loved one. Social stratification then occurs between the hedonist and non-hedonist, possibly explaining the existence of “red-light districts” within larger, wealthier cities; hedonists prefer to associate with other hedonists and tend to despise non-hedonists.

 When one then takes a larger look at the world as a whole, it is apparent that hedonism is more prevalent amongst wealthy and opulent nations or societies, or the wealthy in a nation, than more poor or middle classed nations or people. This is due to the fact that in order to be hedonistic, enough “material” must exist with which the hedonist can indulge. More poor (and even middle class) individuals within a society, or more poor (and middle class) societies themselves occupy a predominant amount of time pursuing the basic requirements of life, leaving very little time to form hedonistic habits and lifestyles. The man who works all day to provide enough to feed his family for that day does not have the time or resources to then indulge himself on the finer things of life. Wealthy nations or individuals, on the other hand, have the resources available to “buy” time and materials. While this is not in and of itself bad, and in many cases it can be a very good thing, the problem lies when the wealthy or opulent individual or society does not have the moral framework to withstand the flashy appeal of hedonism. For indeed, few individuals will deny that if given the choice between a nice cake or a stick of celery, the celery will appear more pleasing. Thus the individual who can afford to buy a scrumptious cake will have little reason not to do so. This brings about a very interesting dilemma: due to the fact that a wealthier society is in ways better for the individual (in terms of abundant food supplies, exceptional health care, technology to allow time for loftier pursuits, etc.) and in ways worse, as has been previously described, it stands to reason then that as the wealth or opulence of an individual or society increases, so too must the strength of and adherence to a proper moral system. This is historically proven by the fact that the fall of some of the greatest empires or societies in the world, from Egypt to Greece, Rome to Venice, France to Victorian England, all witnessed at the moment before their fall an abdication of traditional moral standards or ways of living in favor of hedonism, brought about by the opulence of said societies.

 In summation then, it can be said that hedonism infects all major branches of philosophy. In metaphysics, hedonism replaces God or reality with delusional worldliness; in epistemology, reason or faith is replaced by pure sensation or perception; in ethics, a moral code or teleology is replaced by whim-worship; and in politics (or social ethics), friendships or proper relationships based upon the good or some value are replaced by hedonistic parties of indulgence. If not cured, hedonism in fact will eventually destroy any philosophy at all within an individual, making the adoption of a new philosophy seemingly impossible. The ultimate question, then, is what philosophy is best suited to prevent or cure hedonism?

 Many different philosophies have tried to offer their cure for hedonism. The problem with most philosophies, however, is that their solution to hedonism is to move to the opposite extreme: asceticism or stoicism of some degree. In these philosophies, the individual tends to view the body or world as evil, and thus pleasure as evil. Abstinence from pleasure, or at least the minimalization of pleasure, is the best course of action because it separates the individual from the source of corruption. The problem with these philosophies is that, by going to the opposite extreme, two important things are left out. First, though Aristotle in Book II stated that it is good to shoot for the opposite extreme so that we may properly land in the mean, in actuality shooting to the opposite extreme usually also misses the mark. In addition, by glorifying the opposite extreme, the individual who was not a hedonist tends to fall more easily into hedonism through his natural curiosity at pleasure and thus, being sheltered from it, this individual has no concept of how to properly deal with this pleasure. Secondly, as Aristotle states in Book VII and especially in Book X, pleasure is actually a good thing-it makes life worth living!

 The proper alternative, or cure, is then clear. The proper way to both treat an individual who is a hedonist or to prevent other individuals from becoming hedonist is to adopt the Aristotelian ethical system, especially in regards to Aristotle’s views of pleasure. The individual who properly adopts Aristotle’s ethics will live such a good (moral) life that the “bad” pleasures are not actually pleasures to them, and thus the pleasures that are not bad are relished as an essential aspect to the enjoyment of life.  This transformation not only applies to the noble or intellectual pleasures, but also to the bodily pleasures as well; the man of proper virtue will properly engage in and enjoy alcohol, food, and sex. Thus his life will not display any of the repressive curiosities of asceticism, or the destructive consequences of hedonism, but rather-by properly combining both to reach the mean, lead to a life where both happiness and pleasure coexist in harmony.

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[1] NE 1152b1-4

[2] To Aristotle, a process is a type of change which spans a duration of time, changes from something to something else, ie. a it has a starting point and a finishing point, and thus due to the change, the process is never complete in one moment of time but is only complete when finished. An activity, on the other hand, is always complete at any selected moment in time because it has neither a starting nor a finishing point, and it does not require any stretch of time. See Metaphysics Θ.6,1048b18-23.

[3] NE 1172a19-21.

[4] It is worth noting here that very rarely does a person become fully hedonistic, and thus the degree to which they are hedonistic is the degree to which they shun or abandon reason. Similarly, the degree to which the person becomes hedonistic is the degree to which they shun or abandon traditional morality. Very often this process of degeneration takes a considerable amount of time and is usually found within older hedonist. Many people will delve a certain level into hedonism before returning to a normal state due to the strong influence or pull of their traditional morality. Aristotle states that this is especially true within children or youth, who being “young and lusty” will reach levels comparable to a hedonist, yet as they mature grow out of these levels.

[5] These physical problems of course can exist within individuals who are not hedonistic. However, these maladies are more common to or prevalent amongst hedonists due to the excessive exposure of the hedonist to the items or states within which these maladies occur (excessive eating, sex, and drinking).

Plato's Revolution

Plato, Kronos of the philosophical pantheon, completed his magnum opus in 360 BC. It is with irony (and a mistranslation from Cicero’s Latin) that modern readers know it as the Republic. Cicero’s translation meant affairs (things) of the people. Plato, on the other hand, entitled his work the Πολιτεία, which more accurately means the way in which an individual lives and functions within his πόλις. Under the lens of proper translation, it is easy to see that Plato was not writing about a government or a collective, but instead on an individual and the proper way in which he ought to live. This in fact seems more suitable to the ever-questioning, γνῶθι σεαυτόν Socrates. For indeed, when discussing the issue of justice, happiness, and the good life in the Πολιτεία I 352d-354a, Socrates leads Thrasymachus to an understanding of how best to live ones life in order to arrive at happiness. More abstractly, Plato uses this passage to further demonstrate his idea that everything has a form, that every form has a function, and that the proper state of the form is realized when the function is followed. What is most remarkable about this passage, however, is that it represents the first known case in Western history where ethics became internalized, and happiness could be found within the self.

  Socrates begins the passage by questioning if the good or just life is a happy life, and therefore if the bad or unjust life is an unhappy life. To frame his argument to Thrasymachus, Socrates brings up the issue of work or function. He states that everything has a work, such as an eye, the function of which is seeing. Careful attention must be paid, however, to the original Greek for work. One translation of εργονεργον is, “probably [an] archaic word from ερδο-to work, do, accomplish.” What Socrates is really saying is that an eye has a specific thing which it does, and that in doing this it accomplishes what it was intended to do. He continues that the εργον of a thing is that which it can only do or that which it does best. But everything that has a function also has a virtue of the function, or more properly in the Greek, an αρετη. Thus everything that can do or accomplish something, can either do or accomplish it horribly or excellently (αρετη). If the eyes are blind, then they do not possess the virtue or excellence of the function or work. With this basis, Socrates moves into the realm of human action. He conjectures, then, that the soul too has a function and a virtue. The function of the soul is best summarized as life (though Socrates also uses the terms management, deliberation, and rule). The virtue of the soul would then be justice. The conclusion, according to Socrates, is that the just soul is the soul that lives excellently, and the soul that lives excellently is blest and happy. Therefore, the blest or happy soul is more advantageous than the miserable soul, meaning that justice is always more advantageous than injustice. But in typical Socratic fashion, Socrates stresses that one must know the definition of justice before they may begin to become happy. As Adam states, “Socrates sums up regretfully: until we know what Justice is, we are not likely to discover whether it is a virtue or a vice, and whether its possessor is happy or unhappy.” indeed seems to be work, as in that which a farmer or laborer does. A more proper translation, though, is offered by Liddell and Scott, who state that

One can see in this dialogue the typical way in which Socrates tries to prove something. He begins with a more formal and abstract statement, which could be called point A. Socrates states, “Would you be willing to define the work of a horse or of anything else to be that which one can do only with it or best with it?” Thrasymachus, as is typical for the victim of Socrates, does not understand. Socrates then clarifies his position with a host of different examples. With the point having been more clearly understood, Socrates again offers a more abstract definition, point B, stating, “Do you not also think that there is a specific virtue or excellence of everything for which a specific work or function is appointed?” Again Socrates clarifies his position with countless examples. In his examples, he links point A and point B by stating, “Could the eyes possibly fulfill their function well if they lacked their own proper excellence and had in its stead the defect?” This connection, replete with further examples, allows Socrates to bring the discussion to the core issue of the topic: the work and function of the soul. The abundance of examples combined with a solid grasp of points A and B enables Socrates to quickly wrap up the discussion in his conclusion, proclaiming that, “Never, then, most worshipful Thrasymachus, can injustice be more profitable than justice.” Socrates thus brilliantly led Thrasymachus through his discussion in order to reach what he intended to prove, that justice is profitable.

Though Socrates was only a certain and distinct issue within the realm off ethics, points A and B clearly indicate that Plato was trying to prove something much more abstract. Central to Platonic metaphysics is the concept of Forms, and it is here in this passage that we can see Plato trying to link his metaphysics with his ethics. In points A and B, the idea of forms is presented (and accepted by Thrasymachus) as a fact. This can be better understood in Socrates’ examples of horse and eye. There exists, independently, the forms “horse” and “eye”, unique from any other form. Εργον is the link between Plato’s abstractions and Socrates’ concretes. Plato thus states that every form must have a function, or εργον, and every function may be performed either in a good manner or a bad manner. When the form functions in a good manner, the form is fulfilling its nature. Likewise, when the form functions in a bad manner, the form is rejecting its nature. Thus it seems that Plato offers a way to categorize the forms-by definition. This definition is a collection of the attributes of the form and the function of the form (i.e. for a flower: gain nutrition by water and nutrients via the roots and from the sun via photosynthesis, soft and flimsy, leaves, roots, and the flower). A form acting in contradiction to its nature leads to a termination of that form. Αρετη, then, is the proper functioning of the form that leads it to a state of harmony or well-being.

  Digging more deeply, one can see that an eye does not choose to go blind, but merely goes blind based upon chance. Of interest in Plato’s ethics is the concept of volition. For indeed, it is not Μοιρα who sways men from justice to injustice, but man himself who, via volition, chooses to engage in his function either excellently or poorly. Thus the happy man is the one who engages in his function excellently, of his own volition. Man, as opposed to every other form, must inquire within in order to determine what his function is and how he might perform his function excellently. Man has the tool, philosophy, by which he can inquire first into his nature, or even nature itself (metaphysics), and then use this knowledge and apply it to his life and actions (ethics). Plato proves within this passage that his ethics can indeed be integrated with his metaphysics.

The significance of this passage is far greater than an understanding of justice and happiness (Socrates) or a link between metaphysics and ethics within a philosophical system (Plato). It is that, for the first time in Western history, a philosopher has posited the idea that man can understand his nature by inquiring within, and from this knowledge act in a manner which allows him to attain a state of happiness. Put more simply, Plato internalized ethics. A simple way to prove this is to examine the ethical philosophies of philosophers before and after Plato.

Homer represents the first major work of Greek thinking. In the Iliad, Achilles is faced with a moral dilemma. On the one hand, he can go fight at Troy and receive immortal happiness and renown via his glory and conquests. On the other, he can stay at home and wither away, miserable and unknown for the rest of his life. When he decided to go fight at Troy, Achilles’ mother Thetis cried out to him, “You should be spending your time here by your ships happily and untroubled by tears, since life is short for you, all too brief. Now you’re destined for both an early death and misery beyond compare” (Il. 1-434-437). Clearly she believed that happiness was freedom from fear or imperturbability, and unhappiness was living in a state of fear. Achilles believed the opposite. Regardless, both viewed happiness as attainable externally, be it glory, riches, and fame (Achilles) or imperturbability and tranquility (Thetis).

When Pythagoras was asked by his followers, as recorded by the late 5^th century Italian Pythagoreans, “What is most just?”, he supposedly replied, “Sacrificing” (Iamblichus xviii 81-87). Thus the just, or right thing to do, was to sacrifice (be it to the gods in a figurative sense, or to others in an altruistic sense). Once again, happiness was not found internally via actions, but externally via actions.

As recorded by Cicero, the philosopher and “scientist” Democritus supposedly lived his life as he taught, “…to have blinded himself…in search of what else if not a happy life? And although he located such a life in the knowledge of things, nevertheless he wanted his inquiry into nature to put him into a good frame of mind-for the highest good he called contentment and, often, imperturbability” (Cicero V, xxix, 87). Akin to Homer (or Thetis), Democritus stated that the highest good via which the happy life could be found was imperturbability. He even went so far as to detach himself from this reality (in a sense, by removing some of his perception of it) and found happiness by strictly knowing that it was contentment or freedom from fear which led from happiness. This cannot be mistaken with Plato’s internalization for ethics; the teleological end of Democritus’ ethics was imperturbability achieved by means of not perceiving any object of fear, as opposed to Plato’s teleological end of justice or happiness achieved by means of congruence of function to form. Thus, again, a pre-Socratic philosopher sought happiness and ethics externally.

One final example is Thales, man of the water. As reported by Diogenes Laertius in his Lives of the Philosophers, “Supposedly about Thales, when asked, ‘How can we live best and most justly? –If we do not ourselves do the things we blame others for doing. Who is happy? –One who has a healthy body, a well-stocked soul and a cultivated nature’” (1 33-40). To Thales, happiness was found in health and knowledge, or more specifically, to have a “well-stocked soul” (a soul full of lessons from life) and a cultivated nature (knowledge of community and others, of tradition). It is quite apparent, then, that Thales also sought happiness outside of the individual and in the external world.

When Plato wrote the Πολιτεία, he drastically changed the nature of ethics. No longer did man have to be free of fear, have large quantities of glory, be healthy and well cultivated, or sacrifice to the gods or other people. Instead man was free to examine himself (remember, γνῶθι σεαυτόν), to derive an understanding of his function (who he was, and how was he supposed to act), and then act accordingly in order to become happy. In true Greek tradition (for indeed it was they who first truly anthropomorphisized the gods), Plato made ethics human-centered and individual-centered, allowing mankind finally to begin his quest to understand who he was and how he should act. Ethics was no longer the realm of the king or god, but the individual. This is not to say that every single philosopher after him agreed with him, or that one could notfocus, in the starting point or origin-goods, sacrifice, and the external were not the prime focal point; man was. To further prove and solidify this dramatic shift in Western thought, it would be proper to examine subsequent ethical views. find happiness in the external world. Rather, it was a shift in

Aristotle was undoubtedly Plato’s greatest and most influential student. Almost directly echoing his teacher, Aristotle states in his Ethica Nicomachea:

“Presumably, however, to say that happiness is the chief good seems a platitude, and a clearer  account of what it is is still desired. This might perhaps be given, if we could first ascertain the  function of man. For just as for a flute-player, a sculptor, or any artist, and, in general, for all  things that have a function or activity, the good and the ‘well’ is thought to reside in the  function, so would it seem to be for man, if he has a function…Now if the function of man is an activity of  soul which follows or implies a rational principle, and if we say ‘a so-and-so’ and ‘a good so-and- so’ have a function which is the same in kind…human good turns out to be activity of soul in  accordance with virtue and if there are more than one virtue, in accordance with the best and most  complete” (1097 b23-1098 a16).

Ethics, or the pursuit of the good and happy life, was realized when the individual understood his function. Aristotle, like Plato before him, did not view man as a slave to the outside world, suckling the teat of material goods or the gods in order to achieve happiness. When Aristotle paints a portrait of his magnanimous man later on in his Ethics, the image is almost romantic-a strong, bold, independent man who stood on his own two feet, approaching the world confidently with his mind.

In the Roman times, the Stoic philosopher Seneca, in his Epistles, more succinctly stated, “Therefore, man's highest good is attained, if he has fulfilled the good for which nature designed him at birth.  And what is it which this reason demands of him?  The easiest thing in the world, to live in accordance with his own nature” (XLI). As was typical of Stoic philosophy, man had a nature, which when actualized, led to the good life. Though this is more general than Socrates’ judgment, the essence (or formation) of the argument is the same: identify the form, identify the function, act accordingly and reap the rewards thereof.

In more modern times, the philosopher Nietzsche poetically proclaimed in his work Beyond Good and Evil:

“It is not actions that prove him [the noble man]-actions are always open to many interpretations,  always unfathomable-nor is it “works”. Among artists and scholars today one finds enough of  those who betray by their works how they are impelled by a profound desire for what is noble; but  just this need for what is noble is fundamentally different from the needs of the noble soul itself  and actually the eloquent and dangerous mark of its lack. It is not the works, it is the faith that is  decisive here, that determines the order of rank-to take up again an ancient religious formula in a  new and more profound sense: some fundamental certainty that a noble soul has about itself,  something that cannot be sought, nor found, nor perhaps lost.

The noble soul has reverence for itself (287, emphasis the authors).

Nietzsche here seems to directly attack Plato’s view; even putting the term works into quotations (Nietzsche himself was a Classical Philologist). But even in his disagreement with methodology (that it is works or function which leads to happiness), Nietzsche still accepts the Platonic view of ethics. His ending statement obviously states that the soul does not find happiness or the good life externally, but instead it is its own source of the good (an internal concept). Ironic it is that in trying to disprove Plato, he accepts the assumptions of Plato in order to disprove him!

Finally, and most recently, the controversial philosopher Ayn Rand even paid homage to the views of Plato. In her work, The Virtue of Selfishness, she states:

“The simpler organisms, such as plants, can survive by means of their automatic physical  functions. The higher organisms, such as animals and man, cannot: their needs are more complex and the range of their actions is wider. The physical functions of their bodies can perform  automatically only the task of using fuel, but cannot obtain that fuel. To obtain it, the higher  organisms need the faculty of consciousness. A plant can obtain its food from the soil in which it  grows. An animal has to hunt for it. Man has to produce it” (19).

Here we see a very similar formula to that of Socrates (Plato). Ayn Rand identifies that every organism has a function, and it is that function which leads to the survival (or the good) of the organism. In her terms, to be ethical (to live the good and happy life), man (the organism) must use his mind, or reason (the function) in order to achieve a state of good. As recently as the 1960s, philosophers still debate the nuances of Plato’s historical revolution.

The evidence almost speaks for itself: the pre-Socratics viewed ethics externally, the post-Socratics (or Platonist) viewed ethics internally. Plato’s revolution was ultimately a fundamental shift in thought and focus which allowed all subsequent philosophers to debate the details: Who gave man the form and function? God, the gods, or evolution? (Metaphysics) What is man’s function? Reason, faith? (Epistemology) What are man’s virtues which allows him to act excellently in regards to his function? (Ethics). How ought man to apply these virtues in regards to other people? Tyranny, Oligarchy, Democracy? (Politics). Plato gave his own view under the name of Socrates.

It is rare, however, when an individual comes along who changes the very basic, fundamental methodology under which every other subsequent person, for thousands of years, operates. But what is certain is that Plato’s method struck such a nerve within the philosophical community that, to this day, philosophers still march and fight under the banner of Plato’s revolution.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited

Adam, James. The

Republic

of

Plato

. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1902.

Aristotle. Ethica Nicomachea. Trans. J.a.k. Thomson. London: Allen and Unwin, 1953.

Barnes, Jonathan, trans. Early Greek Philosophy. New York: Penguin, 1987.

Homer. Iliad. Trans. Stanley Lombardo. Indianapolis: Hackett Company, 1997.

Liddell, Henry, and Robert Scott. Greek-English Lexicon. Clarendon Press: Oxford, 1891.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good and Evil. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York: Vintage Books, 1966.

Plato. Great Dialogues of Plato. Trans. W.h.d. Rouse. New York: Penguin, 1956.

Rand, Ayn. The Virtue of Selfishness. New York: Penguin, 1961.

 

Seneca, Lucius A. Moral Epistles. Trans. Richard M. Gummere. Vol. 1. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1917.

Dr Me: Medicine, the Tripartite Soul, and Psychic Health

    Plato’s concept of the tripartite soul has been extensively written about and studied by scholars throughout the ages. It influenced Aristotle (in his De Anima) and all other subsequent Greek and Roman philosophers. Augustine and the Christians cherished it as a means of showing the innate sinfulness (the appetitive) as well as our innate divinity (made in His own image, or the cogitative). Even people as modern as Freud borrowed the tripartite nature of the soul to develop his own theories of Id, Ego, and Supergo[1], as well as modern cognitive psychologist who have taken Plato’s faculty psychology to heart[2]. One possible explanation for the widespread popularity and the everlasting nature of Plato’s theories on the soul lies not as much in the theory itself (for indeed, Plato himself evolved or fixed the mistakes in regards to his concept of the tripartite soul from the Phaedo to the Republic to the Timaeus), but in the very conception of what the soul was or how to interact with it. At times of rapid development in the sciences and technologies, philosophers sometimes tend to mirror their philosophies on these changes (such as Spencer and Social Darwinism). Plato lived not only in a time of rapid philosophical and artistic development, but also in the birth of the scientific tradition. More importantly, this birth and triumph of reason and science took man out of the clouds of the mystical and placed him within the realm of the world, able to be scrutinized and understood by science. This notion was especially true in regards to medicine, where men first began to rationally look at their own diseases and find worldly cures for them. Plato took this rational, scientific, and medicinal optimism and applied it to his own philosophy. For the first time in history, Plato set forth the concept that not only was the soul real, but it also was able to be treated of its illnesses and diseases in much the same was as the body. The wrongdoer was not possessed by demons, but sick, and as such could be cured of his sickness by introspecting and prescribing his own cure or by a doctor (judge) who, if the illness were serious enough, could help him as well. His worldly, medical view of the soul is most evident in the Republic, especially in Book IV, for it is within book IV that Plato fleshes out his idea of the tripartite soul. Yet hidden throughout the book in scattered parts, it is also possible to pick out the proper modus operandi and cure from the Asklepios of the soul himself. For each part of the soul, it appears as if Plato provided a proper medical behavior in response; of course though, like all medicine, these treatments or behaviors could overlap. Nevertheless, Asklepian Plato set mankind down the path to achieve psychic health.

    Though Plato hints at his tripartite division of the soul in the Phaedo[3], it was not until the RepublicRepublic is 435b-441e, as well as a further discussion at 611b-612a5. In sections 435b-441e, Plato divides the soul up into three distinct parts: the appetitive (τό έπιθυμητικόν), the spirited (θυμοειδές), and the cogitative (τό λογιστικόν). His discovery or justification for this distinction is quite unique in the history of Western logical thought. For at 439b5-7, Plato introduced what scholars call the Principle of Opposites[4], stating, “For it cannot be, we say, that the same thing with the same part of itself at the same time acts in opposite ways about the same thing.”[5] Plato used this principle to deduce the differences between the three parts. The logic of this principle, of course, was not fully fleshed out until Aristotle wrote his Metaphysics[6], but nevertheless, the Principle of Opposites allowed Plato to differentiate not between two obvious parts of the soul (the appetitive and the cogitative), but to create or discover the third part which had previously been linked with either the appetitive or the cogitative, or had just been dismissed as madness or possession (the rage of Achilles, the insanity of Medusa, etc.). Thus Plato was also the first intellectual in Western history to fully flesh out an emotional theory. Now with this tool in hand and the three parts identified, Plato was able to flesh out the three parts. that Plato fully fleshed his theory out, describing in detail each of the three parts. The critical section of analysis in the

    The first part of the soul that he identified is the appetitive (τό έπιθυμητικόν), which of course is the most obvious or self evident to humans due to the fact that it is the inescapable natural impulses that we have. Plato himself states at 437d that the most obvious of these desires are thirst and hunger, though Plato also includes willingness or wishing. Obviously a more complete list would include all volitional or semi-volitional operations of human biology (from sex to urination to breathing). The text, however, is ambiguous about biological needs that are out of our ability to control. It only states at 437e3-5 that, “That is so…each desire in itself is of that thing only of which it is in its nature to be. The epithets belong to the quality-such or such.”[7] It is safe to assume, however, that in a work of an ethical nature, as well as in such a primitive state of the development of psychology, Plato was only speaking of those things which our body desires which are in our control to pursue or not. For example, we are not able to stop our body from digesting food, but we can choose whether to eat or not; or, we are not able to stop our body from processing oxygen, but we can hold our breath underwater and choose not to allow oxygen into our system. This means that, of the elements of our body which we have the ability to control, these elements desiring a certain thing, we have the ability to give in to said desire or not (this choice is fundamental to the tripartite soul). The combination of these desires forms the first part, the basis of, and indeed the largest part of the soul.

    The reasoning behind the appetitive being classified as the first or base part of the soul is quite clear. When the hierarchy of life is observed, one can see that from the very basic living organisms, including plants (though these are not volitional beings), to the more advanced living organisms such as animals (though once again, these are not volitional beings), to man, the appetitive element is a common element. A tree, a dog, and a human all desire water and food. Freed from the shackles of the supernatural unknown, Plato was able to see the common element amongst all living organism (though it was not until Aristotle that the science of biology exploded in the ancient world). Thus the appetitive element of the soul is purely corporeal and purely animalistic. The proper functioning of every living organism requires a fulfillment of the appetitive desire. Plato, however, understands than man has the ability to choose the object that relinquishes his desire. At 438a-438d Plato brings up that others might state that the desire of denotes the desire of something good and spends a considerable amount of time defending this position. His response, tersely, is that the desire of something is just the desire of that particular entity, good or bad and much or less being mere attributes of that entity. With this view of the appetitive, it is clear why Plato placed so much emphasis on the cogitative. The appetitive desires drink: what to drink or how much of something to drink (drunkenness versus teetotalism); the appetitive desires sex: with whom to have sex or in what way (sexual monogamy versus sexual orgies); it is the cogitative which directs and guides the appetitive into the proper venue of action.

    It is clear, then, that the appetitive can be either healthy (desiring the right things, at the right times, for the right reasons) or unhealthy (desiring the wrong things, at the wrong times, for the wrong reasons). It is also evident that the cogitative guides the appetitive to a proper course of desire. What is not evident, however, is the relationship between the appetitive and the cogitative, or more specifically, how the cogitative guides the appetitive to a proper course of desire. Plato does not truly give an answer, merely stating at 439b that the cogitative merely pulls the appetitive back from its desires. It would be possible, however, to look ahead to Plato’s prescription for the cogitative and trace it backwards to the appetitive: or, it is also possible that the answer lies before the very discussion of the tripartite soul. Either way, the answer remains the same: education. Yet it is outside of the nature of the appetitive to be educated, for education lies within the realm of reason. A closer examination of how education is a therapy for the mind reveals the key: it is not so much the discovery of the new that is important here, but the affirmation of the tried and true. Or put more simply, it is through overwhelming evidence that the mind takes an idea and turns it into an educational law, staying with the individual as if it were permanent (notice how, through a change in modern values and the modern education system, Rome is thrown out as a copycat empire of engineers as opposed to the more ‘sophisticated’ Greeks-a view quite modern indeed![8]). Translated into the language of the appetitive, education would be better understood as habituation. The cogitative simply directing the appetitive to not have a desire for drunkenness may be powerful enough one time, or a few times; it is not powerful enough, however, to curb the impulses. To curb such an impulse, an individual must create a habit of not drinking to get drunk by repeatedly, over a long period of time, guiding the appetitive away from five drinks, to four, to three, to two, and eventually reinforcing one as a proper modus operandi. Akin to training a dog, this action repeated over and over and over again will eventually yield a habit of drinking in moderation. Though this does not eradicate the impulse itself (one could argue that it is impossible to eradicate impulses), habituation serves as a very powerful tool of the cogitative by which, in most cases, it can easily overcome an impulse. From this it is also clear that the stronger the impulse, the more diligent the cogitative must be in creating habits (walls) strong enough to withstand the onslaught of impulse. Clearly, then, a healthy appetitive can be attained through a proper creation of good habits.

    Plato then brings back the Principle of Opposites in order to reveal the spirited part of the soul (θυμοειδές). At 439E, Plato brings up the issue of the temper or the high spirit. To help explain the difference between the cogitative and the spirited, he introduces the story of Leontios. The man Leontios was supposedly torn between his desire to see a pile of dead bodies and his disgust at the bodies and at such an action. Thus we see a conflict between the innate appetitive desire to see the bodies and the spirited, emotional disgust at such an action. Since it is clear that such an emotional reaction is not a part of the reasoning element (for Leontios did not sit down upon a rock and muse for a few minutes as to how to feel or respond to this action), the Principle of Opposites requires that this indeed be a separate element of the soul. Plato thus called this the spirited element (θυμοειδές). The spirited is seemingly problematic, however, due to the fact that it seems as if Plato had begun a theory of emotions, yet stopped after just a few. Nowhere does Plato incorporate sadness or happiness or any other emotion into the spirited. It seems as if the spirited has its special place as temper or anger. Plato even offers two other examples; one of Odysseus restraining his anger upon site of the suitors at his house; the other of an infant born into the world containing the appetitive and the spirited (a temper, as Glaucon says; an anger). A possible solution lies in the correlation between the purpose for which a just spirited part acts. The spirited element is supposed to be the “soldier” as opposed to the “general”, the cogitative, aiding it in whatever it needs aiding and reinforcing the cogitative in its battle with the appetitive. Regardless, what is evident is that there is a second element of the soul, the spirited, and that its function is to assist the cogitative.

    The health of the spirited at first glance seems quite elusive. It is truly not possible to form a habit from the spirited, because the spirited has more of a reactionary nature (by reacting to something, the spirited is ultimately dependent upon that with which it reacts, and because each incident for which the reaction occurs will be different, the spirited in turn will act in a differing manner, being only related by the common element of anger or temper). The answer to the problem of spirited health, it seems, lies in two elements of Platonic education: music and gymnastics. Music especially plays a key role in relation to the spirited element, and it is possible that a deeper understanding of this connection could further elucidate the shadowy figure of the spirited part of the soul. In a later commentary on the Republic by the Muslim scholar Averroes, the image of war in regards to the spirited element is brought up:

    “It is also evident in that spiritedness often wars against desire and rules over it as though it were  an instrument of ascendancy         [by] which it rules over them. Hence it is that we frequently grow angry at what the desires bring [us] to thoughtlessly…And the         spirited kind will obey and submit to it, heatedly arouse by it [and] battling with the other kind. This harmony in the individual         soul is achieved through music…music renders it disciplined, submissive to cogitation.”[9]

According to Averroes, music then is the tool by which the cogitative forces the wild spirited part into submission (even in the Phaedrus, Plato uses the image of horses to describe the appetitive and spirited, with the cogitative charioteer rearing in and steering the wild beasts). Though Averroes uses a more war-like vocabulary than Plato (understandable), the element remains the same: the relationship between the different parts of the soul is a relationship of tension, much akin to the relationship between the different notes in a unified chord. Plato himself hints at the link between music and the spirited at 411d, when he states:

   “But what if he does nothing but this [gymnastics] and has no contact with the Muse in any way, is not the result that even  if             there was some principle of the love of knowledge [the cogitative] in his soul, since it tastes of no instruction nor of any inquiry         and does not participate in any discussion or any other form of culture, it becomes feeble, deaf, and blind, because it is not              aroused or fed nor are its perceptions purified and quickened…and so such a man, I take it, becomes a misologist and stranger         to the Muses.”[10]

As well as at 441e-442a:

     “Then is it not, as we said, the blending of music and gymnastics that will render         them concordant, intensifying and fostering the one with fair words and       teachings     and relaxing and soothing and making gentle the other by harmony and       rhythm?”[11]

Music thus plays two roles: it unifies or brings into harmony the tension between the different parts of the soul, as well as soothes or guides the spirited element, aiding it in its purpose. Speaking more broadly, the spirited element is not only the aid of reason, carrying out its commands in directing the appetitive, but also it enjoys a seeming symbiotic relationship with the cogitative in that it fuels the fire, so to speak, culturing or refining the intellect and grounding it into this world. Plato hints that the person who does not listen to music, and thus does not cultivate the spirited within him, will not have the proper link between his appetitive, corporeal, worldliness and his cogitative, incorporeal, divineness.[12] What one can see, however, in the evolution of or the change in Plato’s beliefs regarding the soul from the Phaedo to the Republic and Phaedrus to the Timaeus is a distinct break from the pre-Socratic view of Pythagoras and Heraclitus concerning the soul and harmonia to a more modern, medical view of the soul, begun in the Republic and finished in the Timaeus. Ironically, it appears as if Plato is stating that, were the spirited ever to become diseased, the answer would lie in a deep immersion into proper music (for of course, like habituation and education, these healing processes take time). Nevertheless, the importance of the spirited in controlling the appetitive and in nourishing the cogitative is undeniable.

The highest part of the tripartite soul is the cogitative (τό λογιστικόν), the lofty seat of reason reigning supreme above the more barbaric appetitive and spirited. Unlike the largest section, the appetitive, or the middle section, the spirited, the cogitative is the smallest element within the tripartite soul. Plato speaks very briefly of the cogitative, in part because most Greeks at the time would have been very familiar with reason (it was indeed the new religion), and also in part because he had written about it so extensively before. Thus the cogitative did not need much explanation because it was taken as self-evident or repetitive. What he does say of the cogitative part in terms of explanation he reveals in a very peculiar fashion. At 439b, Plato states that if there is something within the soul that pulls back a man from his natural impulse for water, this thing that is pulling back must indeed be a distinct entity from the impulse for water. He uses this as a preface for the Principle of Opposites, but also, taking volition as self evident, states that if you have the choice to do something contrary to an impulse, this must be the cogitative part which is doing the pulling away (by aid of the spirited).

The cogitative soul thus has only one function: to rule via reason, or more appropriately, to use its power of reason to calculate out the best venue to pursue within the appetitive via the spirited.[13] The cogitative soul is the last part of the soul that is developed (Glaucon even remarks that some people never develop it), and is particular to humans. In the Republic, however, Plato depicts a cogitative that is not as much the charioteer as in the Timaeus, but rather is more of a lighthouse that, through education, guides the appetitive and the spirited to the right path. Indeed, the cogitative could actually be likened more to the legislative branch of modern democracies, which discovers and debates what the laws should be, and then passes them into effect; by listening to the other parts, as well as listening to and learning from education, the laws of the body are put in place. The spirited could be seen more as the executive branch; the enforcer of the laws that the cogitative has put into place. Though this comparison may sound antithetical to Plato, it is not to be taken literally. Rather, one must look at the function of the guardians, or the spirited, and see that this can be compared to what now is our leader today (which indeed could be a fascinating area of study: if the executive is meant to be the head of the state, or the legislative, especially in regards to the Platonic theory of the soul or individual and the polis or the state). Perched atop its throne, the cogitative guided or negotiated with the other parts of the soul in order to lead the body as a whole to its proper course.

The health of the cogitative has been discussed in short earlier. The modus operandi of the healthy soul would be a dedication of its reasoning powers to education. Indeed, in many places in the Republic, Plato stresses the importance of education and learning. Beginning at section 376c-414a, Plato discusses the proper education for a guardian in the Republic. He includes music and gymnastics and later on, at 503b, includes knowledge of the “good”. His description here of music is different than his descriptions of music earlier; it seems as if Plato, by including story telling, was accepting the bard tradition of poetry and incorporating it into his music. This would indeed make sense due to the fact that Homer, a bard whose poetry was recited to music, would have been the standard fair education of most boys in Greece. But what would Homer and Aesop (another standard faire story teller), and much later on, the Seven Sages and philosophy do for the cogitative? Both Homer and Aesop wrote their literature in such a way that they could be used as a guidebook for moral action. As it is today, that children find the stories of Aesop and Homer fascinating, so too in the Greek world. Children would probably have picked up sticks trying to gorge the eye of the evil Polyphemus, while parents at home would quote lines from Homer as moral lessons for the children to remember. At 395d, Plato states, “Imitations, if they are practiced continually from youth onwards, become established as habits and nature, in body and in thought.” Thus it is evident that education is the means by which the mind is molded, shaped, and strengthened to become the master of the other parts of the soul.

Whether Plato began the medical view of the soul movement or not is unclear. It is known that, after Plato’s death, many schools of philosophy (the Stoics and Epicureans especially) had a belief in pneuma, the Greek word for breath. In the views of these schools, pneuma was actually a physical organ within the body that contained the elements of the soul.[14] What this belief makes clear, though, is that the Greeks had certainly brought the soul out of the sky as some mystical entity and placed it within the realm of the world, free to be observed, diagnosed, and treated. Any vice, or disease, could find its appropriate cure in order to achieve a state of absolute health, or virtue. In addition, Plato laid out in his Republic the proper means by which each element of the tripartite soul should act in order to maintain a healthy course. Plato’s ideal city was not only ideal but also real. His prescription for a healthy soul was taking place every day all over the Greek world (music and Homer were even elements of the education of children in Sparta, a city known for its disdain of philosophy and the arts). Growing up around Plato were bright and healthy men of the soul who would continue the world down a path of amazing intellectual and technological advancement. Plato was the first, however, to begin the philosophical analysis of the soul in a non-mystical or religious way. His division of the soul into three parts could be considered the first psychological theory in human history. Thus it is Plato whom we have to thank for freeing us from the shackles of religion and allowing us to introspect within ourselves, to observe and understand ourselves, and to realize what is needed in order to overcome and cure the diseases of our own souls.

 


Works Cited

 

Annas, Julia. Hellenistic Philosophy of Mind. Berkeley: University of California P, 1992.

 

Averroes. On Plato's Republic. Trans. Ralph Lerner. Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1974.

 

Blossner, Norbert. "The City-Soul Analogy." The

Cambridge

Companion to Plato's Republic. Ed. G.r.f. Ferrari. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007. 345-385.

 

Ferrari, G.r.f. "The Three-Part Soul." The

Cambridge

Companion to Plato's Republic. Ed. G.r.f. Ferrari. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007. 165-201.

 

Finamore, John. "The Tripartite Soul in Plato's Republic and Phaedrus." History of Platonism: Plato Redivivus. Ed. John Finamore and Robert Berchman. New Orleans: University P of the South, 2005. 35-52.

 

Gruber, Gwen. "Immortality Vs. Tripartition: the Soul in Plato." History of Platonism: Plato Redivivus. Ed. John Finamore and Robert Berchman. New Orleans: University P of the South, 2005. 19-34.

 

Hall, Robert W. "Plato and Totalitarianism." Plato. Ed. John Dunn and Ian Harris. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar, 1997. 378-387.

 

Hampshire, Stuart. Justice is Conflict. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2000.

 

Kenny, A.j.p. "Mental Health in Plato's Republic." Plato. Ed. John Dunn and Ian Harris. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar, 1997. 342-366.

 

Martin, Raymond, and John Barresi. The Rise and Fall of Soul and Self.

New York

:

Columbia

UP, 2006.

 

Nettleship, Richard L. Lectures on the Republic of Plato. London: MacMillan and Co, 1963.

 

Parry, Richard D. "The Unhappy Tyrant and the Craft of Inner Rule." The

Cambridge

Companion to Plato's Republic. Ed. G.r.f. Ferrari. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007. 386-414.

 

Shields, Christopher. "Simple Souls." Essays on Plato's Psychology. Ed. Ellen Wagner. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2001. 137-156.

 

Smith, Nicholas D. "Plato's Analogy of Soul and State." Essays on Plato's Psychology. Ed. Ellen Wagner. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2001. 115-136.

Taylor, C.c.w. "The Arguments in the Phaedo Concerning the Thesis That the Soul is a Harmonia." Essays on Plato's Psychology. Ed. Ellen Wagner. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2001. 51-68.

 

Vlastos, Gregory. "Justice and Psychic Harmony in the Republic." Plato. Ed. John Dunn and Ian Harris. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar, 1997. 367-385.

 

Wagner, Ellen. "Supervenience and the Thesis That the Soul is a Harmonia." Essays on Plato's Psychology. Ed. Ellen Wagner. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2001. 69-90.

 

Williams, Bernard. "The Analogy of City and Soul in Plato's Republic." Essays on Plato's Psychology. Ed. Ellen Wagner. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2001. 157-168.

 

Woods, Michael, and Ian Harris. "Plato's Division of the Soul." Plato. Ed. John Dunn. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar, 1997. 353-377.

 

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[1] The comparison between Plato’s tripartite soul and Freud’s Id, Ego, and Supergo was discussed in Ferrari, 176-178.

[2] Martin and Barresi, 18.

[3] Some scholars argue that the Phaedo depicts a unified soul, and it was not until the Republic and the Phaedrus that Plato fully fleshed out his tripartite model. See Martin and Barresi, 17.

[4] For a more detailed discussion of the Principle of Opposites, see Woods, 360; Nettleship, 155, though he identifies this as the Law of Identity and Contradiction.

[5] The text reads, “Ού γάρ δή, φαμέν, τό γε αύτό τώι αύτώι έατου πέρι τό αύτό ‘άμ’ ‘ά<ν> τάναντία πράττοι”.

[6] Aristotle states in his Metaphysics, 1005b12-20: “He who examines the most general features of existence, must investigate also the principles of reasoning. For he who gets the best grasp of his respective subject will be most able to discuss its basic principles. So that he who gets the best grasp of existing things qua existing must be able to discuss the basic principles of all existence; and he is the philosopher. And the most certain principle of all is that about which it is impossible to be mistaken... It is clear, then, that such a principle is the most certain of all and we can state it thus: "It is impossible for the same thing at the same time to belong and not belong to the same thing at the same time and in the same respect."

[7] The text reads, “οὕτως, ἔφη, αὐτή γε ἡ ἐπιθυμία ἑκάστη αὐτοῦ μόνον ἑκάστου οὗ πέφυκεν, τοῦ δὲ τοίου ἢ τοίου τὰ προσγιγνόμενα.”

[8] See the book, The Culture of Classicism by Caroline Winterer (Baltimore: John Hopkins UP, 2002) for a more detailed description of this fundamental shift in thought. For a more general account of the decline in the Classics in education, see Who Killed Homer by Victor Davis Hanson and John Heath (San Francisco: Encounter Books, 1998).

[9] Averroes, 51.20-52.28.

[10] The text reads: “τί δὲ ἐπειδὰν ἄλλο μηδὲν πράττῃ μηδὲ κοινωνῇ Μούσης μηδαμῇ; οὐκ εἴ τι καὶ ἐνῆν αὐτοῦ φιλομαθὲς ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ, ἅτε οὔτε μαθήματος γευόμενον οὐδενὸς οὔτε ζητήματος, οὔτε λόγου μετίσχον οὔτε τῆς ἄλλης μουσικῆς, ἀσθενές τε καὶ κωφὸν καὶ τυφλὸν γίγνεται, ἅτε οὐκ ἐγειρόμενον οὐδὲ τρεφόμενον οὐδὲ διακαθαιρομένων τῶν αἰσθήσεων αὐτοῦ… μισόλογος δὴ οἶμαι ὁ τοιοῦτος γίγνεται καὶ ἄμουσος, καὶ πειθοῖ μὲν διὰ λόγων οὐδὲν ἔτι χρῆται.”

[11] The text reads: “ἆρ᾽ οὖν οὐχ, ὥσπερ ἐλέγομεν, μουσικῆς καὶ γυμναστικῆς κρᾶσις σύμφωνα αὐτὰ ποιήσει, τὸ μὲν ἐπιτείνουσα καὶ τρέφουσα λόγοις τε καλοῖς καὶ μαθήμασιν, τὸ δὲ ἀνιεῖσα παραμυθουμένη, ἡμεροῦσα ἁρμονίᾳ τε καὶ ῥυθμῷ;”

[12] Many scholars, however, have debated this due to Plato’s ever-changing description of the soul. In the Phaedo, Plato depicts a uniform soul, existing in a state of harmonia. See Finamore, 48; Taylor, 51-68, who discusses more about the concept of harmonia and its relationship to Pythagoreanism and music; and Wagner, 69-90 for a more detailed discussion of harmonia in the Phaedo and the unified soul. Plato seems to have found it difficult to rectify his belief in the immortality of the soul and the tripartite nature of the soul. For more on this, see Gruber, 19-34.

[13] Ferrari, 175, likens the cogitative to a negotiator who in fact has to take the demands of the appetitive and the spirited and negotiate a solution based upon its acculturation or education. This leads him to believe that the cogitative is in fact very weak, being only strengthened by education, which could explain Plato’s heavy emphasis upon education.

[14] See Annas, 20-33 for a discussion of the origins of Pneuma.

Pluck the Day?

    Probably the most commonly used and well known of Latin phrases is Carpe Diem, which everybody translates as, "Seize the Day!".  The 1989 movie "The Dead Poet's Society" has the charismatic teacher tell his students, "But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? --- Carpe --- hear it? --- Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary."  Rightfully so, this phrase has been a positive, motivating factor in the lives of millions of people.  But in truth, this phrase has been misrepresented!  "Carpe", in fact, does not come from the Latin word "Capio", which means to seize.  It comes from the Latin word "carpo", which means to pluck.  Carpe is the second person singular command form of carpo, meaning essentially, "You, pluck!"  Diem is the English Objective case for day, meaning that it is the object of the verb carpo.  So in effect, the saying really means, "You [there], pluck the day!".  How can someone "pluck" the day?  And furthermore, where does pluck come from?
    Horace is a famous Latin poet (Horatius) who lived at the end of the Republic and the beginnings of the formation of the Empire (65 bce-8 bce roughly).  His most famous poem is Ode I-XI.  Translated into english, it is:

     "Ask not - we cannot know - what end the gods have set for you, for me; nor attempt the Babylonian reckonings Leuconoë. How much better to endure whatever comes, whether Jupiter grants us additional winters or whether this is our last, which now wears out the Tuscan Sea upon the barrier of the cliffs! Be wise, strain the wine; and since life is brief, prune back far-reaching hopes! Even while we speak, envious time has passed: pluck the day, putting as little trust as possible in tomorrow!"

    A major element of this poem centers around the Classical belief in Fate (which truly does not contradict volition).  Fate was considered to be everything outside of an individual's control.  For example, regardless of one's hopes or wishes, it will rain.  That it rains or does not rain is considered fate. The first part of the poem, up to the sentence beginning with, "Be wise...", states in essential modern terms, "Whatever happens by fate, happens.  Therefore, it's better to endure these things and overcome them, as opposed to constantly standing in fear of them."
    It is in the seond part of the poem that the famous carpe diem enters the stage.  From the line, "Be wise, strain the wine;" we can finally understand (due to the constant weather references) that Horace is singing about farmers and agriculture.  Continuing with his agricultural motif, he says, "Even while we speak, envious time has passed: pluck the day, putting as little trust as possible in tomorrow!"  Horace is thus saying that, though the rain clouds may be coming in, though the summers heat may show no sign of wavering, or though tomorrow might bring record low temperatures, we have before us right now a task (a field).  Instead of fretting over fate, we must produce as much as we can today.  To pluck the day really means to harvest as much from the day as we can.  Or put more simply, to work as hard as we can to produce as much as we can...today, right now, with no delay.
    This focus on production is the key distinction between the more unspecified, often hedonistic "Seize the day!" and the specified, hard working "Pluck the day!"  It might sound better, however, to say "Produce today!"  Nevertheless, this once inspiring phrase should have a more dear meaning to all Americans.  That famous Yankee Ingenuity is in fact the same thing as "Carpe Diem!".  And just like the Romans, it is now the Americans who dominate the world; not because of Imperial might, but because of Productive Ability.  To put it more simply, Americans are just damn good pluckers.

-----Jason Roberts

Virtue in Acting

    The most dominant Christian Protestant theme of redemption in today's world is, "Saved (assured a spot in heaven) by grace (the grace of God) through faith."  They affirm that belief in Jesus, both inwardly and proclaimed, will lead to a morally upright life.  Sin, then, is an inherent part of every human that is impossible to ignore or overcome on one's own.  Therefore, it is not by one's own actions, but by the grace of God and the affirmation of the believer that a person obtains a permanent place in eternal glory.  What a radical departure from the Greeks and Romans (and even the Catholic Church)! 

    In the New Testament, the word for sin is ἁμαρτάνω (hamartano). To the Greeks, this word's unpolluted meaning was, "To miss the mark, to make a mistake, to err...".  It implied a teleological end that one was missing.  To "miss the mark" was to do something that did not lead you to the goal you were trying to achieve.  This is reflective of the Greco-Roman concept of ethics; that everything we do aims at some good, that the ultimate good is happiness, and that ethics is the means by which we obtain that good.  Unlike the later Christians, the Greeks and Romans did not believe in "original sin", man's "fallen nature", intrinsic evil, or even intrinsic ethics.  In fact, Epictetus said, "As a mark is not set up for the sake of missing the aim, so neither does the nature of evil exist in the world."

     The intrinsic ethics of Christianity leads ultimately to one thing: guilt.  If man is by nature evil, and if  he himself is unable to overcome this evil, and if the only way to overcome it is to go outside one's self and proclaim belief in a supernatural force, then man  has no hope of earning  virtue of his own accord, and becomes a spiritual slave to the non-existent being who "saves" him by "grace".  Ultimately, life is not worth living, all men are bad, and the universe is malevolent.  No wonder the  Romans and Greeks  were disgusted by the Christians.  A culture that believed,  "...the whole glory of virtue is in activity..."  (Cicero),  is a culture that believed that this life is worth living, man by nature has the potential to do wonderful things, and this universe is truly benevolent.

     Sadly, Christianity's almost 2000 year domination of ethics has led to a moral belief, even by non-Christians, that ethics is an absolute and intrinsic entity.  A person who utters one lie is a liar (forget context).  A person who shakes before his first battle is a coward.  A person who becomes drunk once is an alcoholic.  The person who lied once feels guilty because he is now a liar.  The person who was afraid before his first battle feels guilty because he is now a coward.  The person who became drunk once now feels guilty because he is an alcoholic.  And in a typical, intrinsic style, the solution to this problem (even to many Christians) is to head far in the opposite direction.  The person who lied once now will never lie, even if the reason is just (it's just to lie to an enemy wishing to harm your family).  The person who  was afraid before his first battle is now  overtly rash, putting himself in unnecessary danger in order to be "brave".  The person who became drunk once now will never drink alcohol again.

    But we must remember the second part of the equation.  Aristotle said that  "Arete (moral excellence), then, is not an act, but a habit."  The man who aims at being honest, and continues to deal with life in an honest manner, but misses the mark and lies once, is not a liar.  The alternative is not a radical departure,  is not to feel guilty, or to proclaim that  one need's a Savior.  The alternative is to recognize one's fault and move on; to continue  telling the truth.  That lie ends up becoming, not a roadblock to virtue, but a stumbling point.  And instead of turning around, the mistake turns into a lesson from which virtue can be more easily  obtained.   Ultimately, ethics is not an intrinsic  field where "sin" is a stain upon the soul.  Instead, ethics is an organic and dynamic field where "mistakes" are merely us falling off the bike.  And what do we do when we fall off the bike?  We get back up, dust ourselves off, and  get back on the bike.  There's no time for guilt when there's a life to live and a world to conquer.  Leave that to the Christians.

-----Jason Roberts (Crossposted to the Egosphere)

Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?

  Demosthenes, a 4th century b.c.e. Greek Orator, advised that young men, "...possess beauty in respect of person, self-discipline in respect of soul, and manliness in respect of both...".  Cicero, a 1st century b.c.e. Roman Orator, advised us that fortune, or the random events of reality outside of our control, "…ought to be beaten back by a strong and manly soul, as a wave is by a rock."  In fact, our modern word for virtue comes from the Latin word virtus, which means courage, excellence, or manliness (virtus itself comes from the Latin word vir, meaning man).  The ancients were obsessed with the concept of manliness.  A man, according to Aristotle, is one who is confident in the face of danger, moderate in his use and enjoyment of opulent things, magnanimous in estimation of his own worth, ambitious in his desire of honor, patient in response and dealings with his passions, truthful in his life and dealings with others, righteously indignant when done wrong, and just towards himself and others.  He paints a beautiful portrait of this person, saying that this man:

“…does not take petty risks, nor does he court danger, because there are few things that he values highly; but he takes great risks, and when he faces danger he is unsparing of his life, because to him there are some circumstances in which it is not worth living…He is bound to…speak and act straightforwardly…and he cannot bear to live in dependence upon somebody else…He does not nurse resentment…In troubles that are unavoidable or of minor importance he is the last person to complain or ask for help…his gait is measured, his voice deep, his speech unhurried.” (Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics)

  One familiar with the writings of Ayn Rand will find an illustration of this definition in the characters of John Galt, Hank Rearden, Francisco d’Anconia, and Howard Roark.  Many of these virtues are shared with women. The major difference, however, between the manly John Galt and the womanly Dagny Taggart was Galt’s supreme confidence in dealing with reality (other Objectivist women have stressed similar themes).

   To the ancients, it was manliness that defeated the Persians at Marathon. It was manliness that allowed the Spartans to fight at Thermopylae. It was manliness that caused Xenophon and his 10,000 to return from the depths of the Persian Empire to Greece. Manliness was one of the key distinctions the Greeks and Romans saw between themselves and the Barbarians, be they the effiminate and opulent Persians or the unbalanced and barbaric Celts.  Manliness was the attribute that protected the West's birth of Freedom and Thought.

    But today, every single element of manliness that Aristotle described is under attack.  The 1960's ushered  in the era of the Feminists.  Unlike intellectual trends, feminism became a cultural trend.  But not only was their view of womanliness skewed, their view of manliness was also dangerously wrong.  Sadly, this view has come to dominate our culture, beit in the form of the metrosexual, the effeminate man, or the man in touch with his feminine side. Instead of a man who is courageous and confident in facing reality,  men are now told that it is okay to be soft and cowardly.  Instead of a man who is moderate, men are now told to indulge themselves in the luxuries of life; to spend huge sums on fashionable clothes, stylish haircuts, and manicures.  Instead of a man who is magnanimous, men are now told to be pusillanimous; to apologize for their greatness and expound upon their defects.  Instead of a man who is ambitious in his desire of honor, men are now told to seek the lowly and to be meek.   Instead of a man who is patient in response to his passions, men are now told to cry uncontrollably, to let their emotions pour out. Instead of a man who is truthful, men are now told that white lies are okay, and that it is better to flatter than to "offend".  Instead of a man who is righteously indignant, men are now told to turn the other cheek; to forgive and forget; to be compassionate to our worst enemies.  And instead of a man who is just, men are now told to trade favors, to barter for social acceptance, to achieve by means of social connections, to be tolerant of all opinions, and to love thy neighbor as thyself.

    What are the consequences of the destruction of manliness? The bird flu has not even killed 60 people in the entire world (or 0.00000001% of the world's population).  But we are bombarded with cries of fear and panic, told to stay away from chickens and other birds, to keep our children out of the parks where birds are, and prepare for the worst pandemic the world has ever seen (remember, it's wrong to be confident in the face of reality). 50 years ago, Americans were fit and trim.  But now, obesity is sky-rocketing and quickly becoming the greatest health risk in America today (remember, it's wrong to be moderate).  To your average American in the mid-20th century, depression was an emotional state that could be overcome on your own and ADD/ADHD was unheard of.  But now, 18.8 million people are depressed, and 1 in 8 adolescents are depressed (remember, it's wrong to keep your passions under control and deal with them patiently).  Before the 1960's, Americans generally trusted their government.  But ever since Richard Nixon, a chronic distrust has grown throughout America; not only for politicians (Bill Clinton), but for husbands and wives (divorce), children and school (cheating), the media (Rathergate), and even science (Faked Cells) (remember, it's okay to tell a white lie...).  September 11th rekindled the fire of manliness.  But five years later, we are told that the Iraqi war was a mistake, that we should withdraw our troops, and that we should enter into more "diplomatic talks" with a soon-to-be nuclear Iran (remember, it's wrong to believe in righteous indignation).   

    Even a few women have noticed the disappearance of the manly man.  Bonnie Tyler's song, "Holding Out for a Hero", says:

"Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where’s the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?

Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need

I need a hero
I'm holding out for at hero 'till the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero 'till the morning light
He’s gotta be sure
And it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life." (bold mine)

Paula Cole asked:

"Where is my John Wayne
Where is my Prairie Son
Where is my happy ending
Where have all the cowboys gone

Where is my Marlboro man
Where is his shiny gun
Where is my lonely ranger
Where have all the cowboys gone?"

    Both of these women, in a nostalgic tone, are seeking the strong, proud, and confident man of the past.  Even Neo-Con Ann Coulter has voiced similar desires.

    For centuries, philosophers have attacked our ability to comprehend reality via reason.  But now, the very ability to exist in and deal with reality is under attack.  The loss of manliness has not come about because of a small philosophical movement, generally detached from our culture.  This loss has come because the culture itself, your average American, has accepted as true the feminist’s doctrines. From Hollywood to Washington, from Chicago to Houston, men are abdicating that most sacred of Western weapons, the shield of manliness that has allowed our society to exist for over 2.5 thousand years.  And because this is not an intellectual movement, but a cultural movement, this trend must be fought, it must be stopped, and it must be stopped now.  Philosophers will not be able to reverse this trend.  Only your average American can.  And may the rallying cry be the advice of Plato, that men be, "...not only wise but manly, with [the] ability to carry out their purpose to the full; and who will not falter through softness of soul."

-----Jason Roberts (Crossposted to the Egosphere)

There is not so much Gold in the World

    When faced with destruction and disaster, most fear finds consolation in strength and stability.  The desire, it seems, is to sacrifice almost anything in order to return to "the good old days".  While in some cases this may be the proper course of action, in cases involving the loss of liberty this course is dangerously fatal; indeed suicidal.  It is this suicidal course that the Russian People are taking now; some conscientiously, others blindly.  Yet both parties are trading their new and holy liberty for a "momentary stability" in Putin that can lead only to another Authoritarian, repressive regime.  Around 480 bce, the city of Athens received an offer from Persia.  After enduring terrible losses from the Persians, the Athenians were offered peace, stability, and strength.  Athens response to Persia is an invaluable lesson; one that the Russian people should take to heart.

    After subduing Ionia, Xerxes continued his conquest into Greece itself.  He reached as far as Thermopylae before encountering any Greek resistance.  Facing over 200,000 Persian forces, the 10,000 strong Greek contingent inflicted immense casualties upon the Persians before finally being betrayed and defeated.  It was a major wound that the Greeks inflicted upon Persia's armies (and one of the most heroic battles of all time).  Soon after the battle, the Persians continued on towards Athens.  After inflicting immense damage to the Greek towns and countrysides, they reached Athens.  Because the Athenians had fled to their ships, the Persians met little resistance.  They destroyed the town and burned the crops around Athens.

    Soon, another major battle was fought at Salamis. This naval battle witnessed the victory of the Greeks over the Persians and the crippling of the Persian navy.  Afraid of what an uncontrollable Greek navy could do, Xerxes "gracefully" departed from Greece with a large part of his army, leaving his general, Mardonius, and a force of 300,00 Persians behind to finish the conquest of Greece.  This retreat allowed the Athenians to return to their city and begin the process of "rebuilding".

    Greece was not yet safe from Persia.  After wintering in Northern Greece, Mardonius prepared to conquer the remaining Greek States.  Before doing so, he sent a diplomat to war-torn Athens and, in exchange for submitting to Persia, offered Athenian land restored, the ability of the Athenians to take whatever land in Greece they wanted, the 'ability to be self-governed', and the rebuilding of all Athenian temples at Persian expense.  This offer would have given the Athenians peace and stability.  The Athenians, however, valued liberty above all else.  Their brilliant response was:

"We know...as well as you do that the Persian strength is many times greater than our own: that, at least, is a fact which you need not rub in.  Nevertheless, such is our love of freedom, that we will defend ourselves in whatever way we can.  As for making terms with Persia, it is useless to try to persuade us; for we shall never consent.  And now tell Mardonius, that so long as the sun keeps his present course in the sky, we Athenians will never make peace with Xerxes.  On the contrary, we shall oppose him unremittingly, putting our trust in the help of the gods and heroes whom he despised, whose temples and statues he destroyed with fire.  Never come to us again with a proposal like this, and never think you are doing us good service when you urge us to a course which is outrageous...there is not so much gold in the world nor land so fair that we should take it for pay to join the common enemy and bring Greece into subjection...we would have you know, therefore...that so long as a single Athenian remains alive we will make no peace with Xerxes." (Herodotus, 8.143)

So strong was their desire for liberty that the very idea of giving in to the stability that Persia offered was "outrageous"!  Their eloquent response is a testament to the greatness of liberty, no matter the cost.  Eventually, the Greeks defeated the Persians at the battle of Plataea, and soon the Persian wars were over.  Greece had won her freedom, and had saved Western Civilization.

    The year 1991 witnessed the fall of the Soviet Union.  Russia endured many trials in order to become a free state.  However, in 2000, Russia elected Vladimir Putin as their leader.  It is Putin that has, through many means, sought to destroy Russian Liberty.  According to Ariel Cohen, "...the Russian oil and gas sector’s new paradigm can be summarized in two words: 'state domination'".  He goes on to explain how Putin's government has begun to centralize the Russian energy sector by finding obscure faults with the companies and then nationalizing them.  Putin's efforts in nationalization are backed by funds from the Chinese government!   Ariel Cohen also mentions how the Russian government has been, "...buying up strategic infrastructure companies, such as pipelines, refineries and electric grids, as well as ports in Georgia, Hungary and Ukraine...".  These transgressions of individual liberty in favor of state ownership are not the only examples of Putin's move to Authoritarianism.

    According to the Washington Post, Putin has also, "...limited the power of regional governors, who often defied Putin’s predecessor, Boris Yeltsin. In 2000, Putin removed the governors from the Federation Council, the upper chamber of Parliament. He then undercut their power by creating seven presidential envoys to supervise them."  The article continues with:

"Putin announced a new plan that would appoint regional governors with the approval of regional legislatures, thereby ending the popular election of regional governors and independent legislators. In addition, Putin’s plan would abolish elections of legislators in individual constituencies to the lower Russian legislative house, the Duma, and instead elect all members of the Duma on party lists, by proportional representation. As of now, half of the deputies are elected in constituencies and half by party lists."

This is a disturbing trend away from direct election via the people, and towards appointment via the President.  In effect, Putin is taking away the power from the Russian People and handing it to himself. What is more disturbing, however, is that the Russian people reelected Putin by a landslide in 2004!  Clearly working against liberty, the Russian people (like the Germans of Hitler's time) are voting into power their own destruction.

    In the last decade, Russia has been beset with difficulties.  Extreme poverty, rebellion (Chechnya), terrorism, hunger, and many other transitional difficulties have plunged the Russian people into despair.  Similar to Athens, the Russian People are faced with the horrible prospect of "rebuilding through the rubble".  And just like Persia, Putin has offered them strength and stability in exchange for ceding over their liberties.  What the Russian People don't realize, however, is that they are being herded into a trap; a trap that will ultimately take away the very freedom that they so recently won, and in exchange give them a "leader" with the power to send them back to Siberia.

    It is time for the Russian people to remember the words of the Athenians when faced with such a prospect.  They should realize just how precious a thing their freedom is; how wonderful it is to be a human as opposed to an animal.  They should remember what life was like in the Soviet Union, an authoritarian regime that killed over 30,000,000 of its people.  They should remember what it was like to be denied freedom of speech, or freedom of religion; to have to wait in line for hours to receive bread; to wear faded clothes and drive broken cars.  They should remember that they won their freedom in 1991, and they should stand boldly and proclaim that Putin's actions are not only immoral, but an outrage!  It is time for the Russian people to say that, "...there is not so much gold in the world nor land so fair that we should take it for pay to join the common enemy and bring [Russia] into subjection...we would have you know, therefore...that so long as a single [Russian] remains alive we will make no peace with Putin."  It is time for Putin to go, and may the next election halt the wave of authoritarianism in Russia; may the next elections be a victory for liberty.

-Jason Roberts (Crossposted to the Egosphere)