PAC would like to thank Prof. Catherine Wilson and Basic Books NY.
From the Preface to Catherine Wilson, How to Be an Epicurean (NY: Basic Books 2019)
Philosophy wears garments of many colours and textures. It can stitch together intricate analysis or pretentious bafflegab, deep insight or pseudo-profundity, impartial advice or personal prejudice. It shows up, in flashy or drab form, not only in the lecture rooms of universities but in the New Age section of your local bookshop, shelved next to books about ESP and meditation. Regardless of its patchwork character, philosophy asks you to try to think for yourself, logically and coherently, to create order from chaos. You use ideas and frameworks developed by others, especially the great philosophers of the past, as scaffolding. But ultimately, you make – and use – your own system of the world in deciding what to believe, what to do and what to hope for.
My aim in this book is to build you a piece of scaffolding by introducing you to what, to me, is the most interesting and relevant of the ancient philosophical systems: Epicureanism, a ‘theory of everything’ originating in the observations and ideas of the 3rd-century-BC Athenian philosopher Epicurus and set into Latin verse by his 1st-century-BC Roman follower, Titus Carus Lucretius. Unlike the city-based Platonists and Stoics, Epicurus had decided to ‘live apart’ with his followers. His philosophical school was set in a ‘Garden’ (actually a grove) usually considered to have been located outside the city walls, where philosophy was discussed, meals were taken together, and books and letters were written.
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Like most readers, I am concerned about the array of political and economic problems affecting us and our children and causing us anxiety even when we live in conditions of affluence. There is increasing economic inequality, fostering resentment and violence; the corruption of democratic processes on a mass scale; the existential threats posed by climate change and nuclear, chemical and biological weapons; the depletion of environmental resources, including soil and water; the loss of plant and animal species, and the toxification of our air and our oceans.
The modern economy uses vast quantities of energy from oil and gas (and from the atom) to transform oil and other raw materials into consumer products, only a few of which make our lives better. The rest stuffs and fattens our closets and drawers and piles up as waste in landfills. And it does not make us happy. Mood disturbances, especially depression, afflict large segments of the population, and many people drink too much alcohol or are addicted to stimulants or tranquillisers. Over one-third of Americans are ‘completely inactive’, and sleep disturbances from artificial light as well as immune dysregulation arise from lack of exposure to natural sunlight. ‘In effect,’ as one observer comments, ‘humans have dragged a body with a long hominid history into an overfed, malnourished, sedentary, sunlight-deficient, sleep deprived, competitive, inequitable and socially isolating environment with dire consequences.’ We live longer than most of our ancestors but in a sicklier fashion. And from every pain or deprivation, somebody benefits. Pharmaceutical manufacturers benefit from our sugar-induced diabetes and our mental health problems; oil companies from the destruction of wilderness and poisoning of the atmosphere; the chemicals industry and their stockholders from the use of plastics, and the automobile industry from the absence of public transportation, and the prison industry from the desperation and violence that characterise the poorest neighbourhoods.
At the same time, we face problems in our private lives that reflect the age-old human condition, intensified by the social changes of the last fifty to one hundred years. The stresses of urban life, the monotony of suburban life, bad jobs and bad bosses, sexual predation and confusion affect almost all of us.
Tinkering around the edges of our problems with scented candles, new exercise routines and productivity apps isn’t going to help much in the long run, and no philosopher who is honest about it can give you a formula for being happy, certainly not for being happy all the time. Nevertheless, philosophy can point the way to the sources of satisfaction that are available to almost every human being and a way to face off against the major threats to human happiness. These lie in wait for us in the form of outsized ambitions, fear of failure, and feelings of futility. The history of philosophy can also help us to see the difference between what philosophers call the ‘necessary’ and the ‘contingent’ in our historical and social conditions, and how the moral commitments of individuals have made a difference.
In this book, I’ll explain how the ancient Epicureans saw the world and how a present day Epicurean sees it. At the same time, I’ll try to be honest and objective. Epicureanism was always a controversial philosophy, and it needs rethinking in some respects. Philosophers have their own irrational enthusiasms, and their views should never be accepted on faith without critical scrutiny. As far as that’s concerned, I expect readers to roll their eyes at some of my opinions. In the end, you may find the Epicurean system as I present it here compelling and useful in working out your own ideas about how to live. Or you may find it off-putting and see in its very problems helpful directions for living in a different way. In any case, real Epicureanism is probably considerably different from what you might have thought. As reported by Lucretius:
[Epicurus] saw that almost everything that necessity demands for subsistence had already been provided for mortals … he saw, too, that they possessed power, with wealth, honour and glory, and took pride in the good reputation of their children; and yet he found that, notwithstanding this prosperity, all of them privately had hearts ranked with anxiety …’
The Epicureans believed that most people have the wrong conception of the nature of the universe and their place in it. They wanted to replace indoctrination and wishful thinking with respect for reality. They sought to uncover the real sources of joy and misery in our finite lives and to balance the ethical treatment of others with our own self-interest. This required attention to opportunities for ‘choice and avoidance’ in everyday life. Three of Epicurus’s most famous (also his most infamous) teachings were: first, that everything that exists, including the ‘mind’, is composed of material atoms; second if a God or gods exist, it or they did not create our world, and it or they do not care about humanity; and third, there is no life after death and no other world to go to.
From these three basic and interrelated claims – the material nature of everything, including the human individual, the absence of divine oversight of the world and the finality of death – the Epicureans worked out a system covering both the natural world and the human world. They tried, ambitiously, though not always convincingly, to explain the origins of the cosmos, the causes of volcanoes and earthquakes, the evolution of life and the origins of war, poverty, dominion and servitude, appealing only to physical processes and human inventions and decisions. They explained what morality and justice are all about and warned of the dangers of belligerent and kleptocratic rulers. They made suggestions as to how to live with less fear and regret and what attitude to take in the face of adversity. Unlike their main philosophical rivals, the Stoics, they did not believe the mind is all-powerful in the face of adversity or that we should strive to repress our emotions, griefs and passions. Their moral philosophy is relational rather than individualistic. And unlike the other, more influential schools of ancient philosophy, especially the Platonic and the Aristotelian, the Epicureans welcomed women into the sect.
Prof. Catherine Wilson has taught philosophy in the US and overseas, and she has published books and articles on various topics, including moral philosophy, aesthetics, the history of philosophy, the philosophy of science, and philosophical psychology. She considers herself more of a “fox” than a “hedgehog,” but there is a common underlying theme in her work: the relationship between science and philosophical issues. Her best-known publications focus on the invention of the microscope and the rediscovery of ancient atomism. She currently lives in Berlin, where she continues her research and writing.