Ancient Wisdom for Modern Mental Health with Neel Burton

An interview

Neel Burton is a psychiatrist, philosopher, and wine-lover who lives and teaches in Oxford. As mental health and humanity face deepening crises, he is increasingly turning to the wisdom of the ancients for answers. Through his work, Neel seeks to bridge the gap between ancient philosophy and modern challenges, offering insights that resonate deeply in today’s troubled world.

How did you first become interested in ancient Philosophy?

Most people go to Venice with a lover, but I went instead with Plato’s writings on love, the Lysis, Symposium, and Phaedrus. Like many, I had read, and been inspired by, Plato’s Apology, on the trial of Socrates, but as a young medical graduate I did not know much more about the Greek philosophers. All I had was a vague sense that they, along with Homer, sat at the beginning of Western thought and civilization, and also at their pinnacle. The trip would be an opportunity, not only to see Venice, but to dig a little deeper.

One afternoon, I went for a long, aimless walk, and wound up in a walled garden, the Parco di Villa Groggia, with a theatre and follies of ancient ruins. It felt like a garden in Classical Athens, like, perhaps, Plato’s Academy—and the perfect place to start on the Phaedrus. As I read, I experienced one of those rare ecstatic communions that I discuss in my book on the emotions. Words written more than two thousand years ago, etched with a stylus into wax tablets, had, by some mysterious magic, succeeded in moving me to my very core.

Ecstatic communions, like oracular readings of the kind that set off Socrates, can be life-changing. Within five or six years, I had completed a master’s degree in philosophy, and read and outlined the collected works of both Plato and Aristotle.

What are the most important concepts or ideas that you teach others?

The first three books in my Ancient Wisdom series survey a thousand years of Western intellectual history, from the rise of the Greek city states to the peak height of the Roman Empire. This uniquely fertile period, which encompasses the Golden Age of Athens, began in mystical, mythological thought, and culminated in the hyper-rational, hyper-practical philosophy of the Stoics.

The incipient Christian religion absorbed and adapted, and for a long time occulted, many ancient doctrines, which is why, despite their remoteness, they can seem so strangely familiar. In the late Middle Ages, the rediscovery of Plato fuelled the humanistic Renaissance, which pushed back against the Church of Rome.

The Renaissance was a time of great hope and optimism, which, in many ways, proved premature. Faith provides a compelling reason to live, and a compelling reason to be good, which, for better or worse, many people have lost. For all our progress in science, technology, and education, more than one in five adults are now suffering from some form of depression. It’s almost as if we’ve come full circle, minus the philosophy.

Might it then be time to look afresh at these ancient ideas and find in them a happier way of living? Might it be time, in other words, for a new Renaissance?

Do you have a favorite quote that you use?

“The best way to feel better is to be better.” I made this remark in the concluding section of The Gang of Three, as a sort of distillation of the teachings of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle and their radically different approach to ‘mental health’. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but, later, my Spanish translator picked it out and put it on the frontispiece of the Spanish edition.

What advice would you give someone who wanted to learn more about what you do?

Start on the ‘about’ section of my website, www.neelburton.com/about

While you’re there, sign-up to my very occasional newsletter and get a free copy of The Secret to Everything, with over 300 five-star Amazon reviews.

The Gang of Three is my most popular book, but I think The Meaning of Myth is a better place to start—that, or The Meaning of Madness.

Suppose you were able to give a talk or workshop at the original location of Plato’s Academy, in Athens.

I was in Athens a few months ago, for an in-depth visit of the incredible National Archaeological Museum. I found this lovely restaurant, and this lovely wine bar. I’d be happy to return just for those!

What question would you like to leave us to think about?

Some of the most popular and holistic approaches to mental health, such as mindfulness and meditation, emanate from the Indian tradition. Coming to Indian philosophy after having written three books on Greek philosophy, I was struck by the parallels, and eager to point them out. For example, the analogy of the soul as a chariot features in both Plato’s Phaedo and the Katha Upanishad. One is tempted to ask: are the similarities between Greek and Indian thought the result of direct or indirect communication, or are they the result of a common source or common grammar? Or are they rather a universal product of the human mind?