Epicurus and Aristotle

Professor John O’Neill of the University of Manchester is a philosopher and political economist with an interest in environmental policy. He is principal investigator for a project on ‘Justice, Vulnerability and Climate Change.’ A paper by him on well-being and intergenerational justice was published by the United Kingdom’s Sustainable Development Commission in 2008. He has recently given a lecture on the same topic to a seminar at the University of Oxford’s Oxford Martin School, an interdisciplinary research initiative concerned with global challenges.

In his lecture on ‘Well-being, Time and Sustainability: Epicurus or Aristotle?’ (27/1/2011), Professor O’Neill contrasts well-being interpreted subjectively (an attitude which he attributes to Epicurus) with an Aristotelian emphasis on objective criteria for being and doing well. He discusses ‘hedonic’ research on measures of happiness – how happy people feel in relation to their life circumstances – and the relevance of this for dealing with environmentally unsustainable habits of consumption.

He considers in particular the capacity of Epicurean and Aristotelian viewpoints for shaping attitudes to the preservation of the environment for the sake of future generations. In effect he uses the label ‘Epicurean’ for designating an attitude that what matters is happiness in the present moment. Such an outlook (O’Neill argues) does not provide a strong ethical basis for caring about the well-being of future generations, since it is only things that happen in a person’s lifetime, not after it, that can make them happy.

O’Neill expresses sympathy for some aspects of Epicureanism, but decides that it is weaker than the thought of Aristotle for addressing environmental issues from the perspective of future generations. I believe that his approach is unfortunate because he attributes ideas to Epicurus which fail to represent the depth and complexity of Epicurean thought, and consequently the opportunity is lost to explore the real power of Epicureanism for solving environmental problems.

It seems to me highly unlikely that Epicurus would have held a number of views which O’Neill attaches to his name. A key aspect of Epicurean ethics is the need to live within the limits of nature. This assumes that nature is extensive enough to support the needs of all human beings. The point has obvious intergenerational implications. If we deny to future generations the natural abundance which they will need to live happily, we do them harm, destroy their pleasure and give them pain. The happiness of each generation depends on the state of nature as it has been received from earlier times: what happened before our lifetime is important to us, as it will be for future generations. Our actions are inseparable from the capacity of nature to support the lives of our descendants.

Since our own happiness is a matter of enjoying pleasure and avoiding pain in body and mind, the calmness of our thoughts is as important as the health of our bodies, indeed more important if happiness of mind is a higher form of happiness. If we are disturbed about our treatment of nature and the effect this will have on others, we give ourselves anxiety that we could have avoided.

These are some of the considerations which may drive us to a sense of horror that the natural environment is, through our interference, becoming inadequate to support human happiness now and into the future.

Seminar lecture by Professor John O’Neill, Hallsworth Chair In Political Economy, School of Social Sciences, University of Manchester, under the heading of ‘Sustainability: How can each generation live well within limits?’ but more precisely entitled ‘Well-being, Time and Sustainability: Epicurus or Aristotle?’ (27/1/2011). The seminar, at the Oxford Martin School, Broad Street, Oxford, was part of an interdisciplinary seminar series on ‘Intergenerational Justice: What do we owe future generations?’ (20/1/2011 – 10/3/2011). The argument was summarised on the Oxford Martin School blog, 28/1/2011. A webcast of the event may be viewed online, and the audio and video may be downloaded.

Cf. John O’Neill, Alan Holland and Andrew Light, Environmental Values (Routledge Introductions to Environment and Society), London, Routledge, 1998, 2008, including Chapter 11: Sustainability and Human Well-being; John O’Neill, R. Kerry Turner and Ian Bateman, Environmental Ethics and Philosophy (Managing the Environment for Sustainable Development, 6; Elgar Reference Collection), Cheltenham, Edward Elgar, 2001; John O’Neill, ‘Sustainability, Well-being and Consumption: The Limits of Hedonic Approaches’, in Kate Soper and Frank Trentmann (ed.), Citizenship and Consumption (Consumption and Public Life), Houndmills, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, 2008, pp. 172-190; John O’Neill, Living Well within Limits: Well-Being, Time and Sustainability, London, Sustainable Development Commission, 2008. (cf. Living Well – Within Limits: SDC Discussion Document on Wellbeing Indicators for Sustainable Development, London, Sustainable Development Commission, May 2007). Oxford Martin School, Podcasts.

The Sustainable Development Commission in the United Kingdom is ‘the Government’s independent adviser on sustainable development.’

Power and wealth compared with pleasure

The emphasis in Epicurean philosophy on the importance of pleasure has often given rise to misunderstanding and misrepresentation, in the time of Epicurus and ever since.

The author Athenaeus, who flourished around AD 200, records with approval the Roman attitude to honour and virtue, which led Roman authorities to banish philosophers whose teachings they considered repugnant to their ideals of what is good and right. In discussing the philosophy of Epicurus, he says that Epicurus and his followers made virtue and honour subordinate to pleasure, and it was therefore admirable that the Romans excluded the Epicureans Alcius (also spelled Alcaeus) and Philiscus from Rome because of their encouragement of pleasure (Athenaeus, Learned Banqueters, Book XII, 547a). Similarly, he says, the Messenians banished the Epicureans, and Antiochus banished philosophers from his kingdom.

Athenaeus also points out that, before the time of Epicurus, Sophocles was promoting the idea of pleasure, as can be seen from a passage quoted from the Antigone (lines 1165-1171) in which the speaker rejects wealth and power as worthless in comparison with pleasure: if heaping up riches and living as a king exclude pleasure, they are not worth ‘the shadow of a vapour’ (in Jebb’s phrase); a man who has forfeited his pleasures is not truly alive but a living corpse.

According to this passage in Sophocles, pleasure can be understood as better than power and wealth. As quoted by Athenaeus, the passage is supposed to show Sophocles in a bad light. In fact it helps to illustrate the reasonableness of Epicurus’ argument that pleasure is a superior ideal.

A translation of Athenaeus, Deipnosophists, may be read online on the University of Wisconsin website; for the relevant passages in Book XII see pp. 874-876. The passage from the Antigone can be read online in an 1893 translation by R.C. Jebb (quoted),  and on the Perseus website in Jebb’s Greek text and 1891 translation.

Lucretius on Mars and Venus

In the prologue to Book I of On the Nature of Things, Lucretius refers to a ‘man of Greece’, a phrase which Ennius applied to Pyrrhus king of Epirus. (Cf. ‘A man of Greece’, 16/3/2011.)

In an article on Ennius and Lucretius, Stephen Harrison observes the connection and makes the inference that, whereas Pyrrhus came to Italy as a military invader, Epicurus came (via his message) as a peaceful and healing philosopher. Furthermore, argues Harrison, in echoing Ennius Lucretius was arguably presenting ‘an Epicurean version or even perversion’ of traditional Roman history (p. 10). Ennius in the Annales had recounted wars and triumphs; but what was important in the Epicurean view was the peace that comes through triumphing over the fear of death.

This was a vital message that Epicureanism brought to the Romans, and it meant that the world and history could be seen in a new way. The revised view of history corresponds to Lucretius’ revised view of literature and mythology. In the symbolic terms of Greek and Roman mythology, the key deity for understanding the world could now be recognised as Venus, goddess of love, not Mars, god of war. Lucretius draws the contrast poetically in the prologue to Book I, and develops the theme thereafter by philosophical reasoning.

S.J. Harrison, ‘Ennius and the Prologue to Lucretius DRN 1 (1.1-148)’, Leeds International Classical Studies 1.4, 2002, p. 10.

Understanding the prologue to Book I of Lucretius’ On the Nature of Things

Professor Stephen Harrison, in an article published in 2002, drew attention to features in the prologue of Lucretius’ On the Nature of Things which indicate in one way or another the influence of the earlier Roman poet Ennius (239-269 BC). By reading Lucretius in the light of the connections with Ennius, we can better understand the meaning of the prologue and of the poem as a whole.

Lucretius specifically refers to Ennius as a pioneering Roman writer whose poetry he reveres but whose ideas he disputes. According to Ennius, pale images of human beings survive in the underworld – a belief which Epicureanism rejects.

The traditional epic poetry of Ennius provided ‘the clear stylistic model’ for Lucretius’ poem (Harrison, p. 2). The style of On the Nature of Things is markedly different from that of other Roman poems of the time, for example poetry by Catullus which shows Hellenistic influence. Lucretius uses an old-fashioned style with the roughness and directness of Ennius. The archaic style suits Lucretius’ purpose: he uses a reassuringly familiar poetic approach for conveying an unfamiliar and revolutionary message.

Lucretius claims to be a pioneer himself, as the first to draw on the inspiration of the Muses to communicate Epicurean physics (p. 3). A point of similarity is that Ennius, with the assistance of Homer, produced an account of ‘the nature of things’ (coepisse et rerum naturam expandere dictis). In this respect the dissimilarity lies in Lucretius’ more scientific explanations, which enable him to interpret the world afresh and to give an alternative history of Rome (p. 4).

S.J. Harrison, ‘Ennius and the Prologue to Lucretius DRN 1 (1.1-148)’, Leeds International Classical Studies 1.4, 2002, 1-13.

A man of Greece

In one of the most famous incidents in Greek myth, the Greek expedition against the Trojans is held up at the port of Aulis, waiting to cross the sea to Troy. The goddess Artemis has sent contrary winds, and will not let the fleet sail until Agamemnon, the Greek commander-in-chief, has fulfilled a personal obligation to make a sacrifice to her. The sacrifice is to be his own daughter, Iphigenia. Accounts vary as to whether the girl was sacrificed or an animal (a hind, a bear or a calf) was sacrificed instead.

Lucretius uses the incident, in the opening section of Book I of On the Nature of Things, as an example of the misguided actions to which people are driven by religion, and of the evils that result from false beliefs. By contrast, as Lucretius explains in his poem, Epicureanism provides soundly based views which place the gods and religion in correct perspective; we are released from subservience to traditional ideas about the gods and their supposed intervention in human affairs, and we are able to interpret and respond to the world in a better and happier way.

A number of ancient authors refer to the story of Iphigenia at Aulis, including the tragedians Aeschylus (in his play Agamemnon) and Euripides (in Iphigenia at Aulis). Stephen Harrison has argued that, besides these two works, another influence on Lucretius was the now lost play Iphigenia by the Roman writer Ennius. Professor Harrison finds a number of pieces of evidence to connect language and ideas in Lucretius’ prologue with Ennius. The Romans held Ennius in high regard as a historian of the origins and progress of Rome as a war-like and victorious nation. Lucretius proposes a better history, tracing their origins back to Venus rather than Mars, and seeing true progress in devotion to philosophy and the promotion of peace.

Among the parallels with Ennius is Lucretius’ phrase Graius homo, ‘a man of Greece’, in reference to Epicurus, and the use of the same phrase in the Annals of Ennius to refer to Pyrrhus king of Epirus. Pyrrhus invaded Italy as an armed conqueror, while Epicurus invaded Italy as a philosopher. Pyrrhus brought the upheavals of war, Epicurus brought knowledge and peace.

On Pyrrhus, a younger contemporary of Epicurus, see the entries for 14/3/2011 and 15/3/2011.

S.J. Harrison, ‘Ennius and the Prologue to Lucretius DRN 1 (1.1-148)’, Leeds International Classical Studies 1.4, 2002 [pp. 1-13].

Tendencies to misunderstand and misrepresent Epicureanism

Plutarch, in narrating the life of Pyrrhus, the king of Epirus who fought against the Romans, gives an account of the occasion (in 280 BC) when Cineas explained Epicureanism to the Roman representative Fabricius (as noted in yesterday’s entry). Fabricius’s reaction is reported by Plutarch as follows:

But before Cineas was done, Fabricius cried out and said: “O Hercules, may Pyrrhus and the Samnites cherish these doctrines, as long as they are at war with us.”

This outburst evidently indicates that Fabricius was astonished by Epicurean teachings and encouraged by the thought that the enemies of Rome could be influenced by a philosopher who counselled his followers to pursue a life of pleasure and avoid political ambition.

In the early first century AD the Roman historian Valerius Maximus included this episode in his handbook of memorable deeds and sayings (Factorum ac dictorum memorabilium libri IX, completed in AD 31). He refers to Cineas as talking about a philosopher in Athens who holds that pleasure should be our only motivation for doing things. The Roman’s reaction comes as no surprise: ‘Fabricius treated this statement as monstrous, and at once prayed the gods to inflict that philosophy on Pyrrhus and the Samnites.’

Valerius is dismissive of Athenian learning and hostile to Epicureanism, and misrepresents Epicurus’s teaching on pleasure. He regards the ‘religious horror’ of Fabricius as a mark of wisdom, and preferable to respect for the doctrines of Epicureanism. In contrast to the pleasure-loving Athenians, he argues, Romans found pleasure in hard work. Consequently, whereas Athens lost its empire and its liberty, Rome is so powerful that it can decide to give liberty to others.

Over the centuries the Epicurean tradition of learning and ideas has encountered a great deal of such prejudice and misrepresentation.

Bernadotte Perrin (trans.), Plutarch’s Lives (Loeb Classical Library), vol. IX: Demetrius and Antony; Pyrrhus and Caius Marius, London, Heinemann/ Cambridge MA, Harvard University Press, 1920, repr. 1959, pp. 408-409. Henry John Walker (trans.), Valerius Maximus: Memorable Deeds and Sayings: One Thousand Tales from Ancient Rome, Indianapolis IN, Hackett, 2004, Chapter 3, section 6 (pp. 133-134).

Cineas tells the Romans about Epicurus

The region of Epirus, in the north-west of Greece, saw the rise of a strong tribal state in the fourth century BC. With the help of the Macedonians, the Molossian king Alexander I became head of a united Epirus (342-330), and Epirus became a significant power, conquering part of Italy and forming an alliance with Rome. Their most famous king was Pyrrhus, whose lifetime (319-272) coincided with the career of Epicurus. He sought to liberate Epirus from Macedonia, acquired territory, and fought against the Romans and Carthaginians.

Plutarch (Life of Pyrrhus, 20) tells the story of an occasion when Pyrrhus was negotiating with the Romans. He tried to persuade their representative, Fabricius, to accept gold, and when that failed he tried, again unsuccessfully, to frighten him by showing him an elephant. Fabricius was more impressed at dinner-time when the conversation turned to Greece and her philosophers. The diplomat Cineas outlined the teachings of Epicurus, and in particular the Epicurean view that pleasure is the highest good; that it is better to refrain from involvement in matters of government; and that the gods are distant and do not intervene in human affairs.

The passage in Plutarch may be read online in the version of Bernadotte Perrin (trans.), Plutarch’s Lives (Loeb Classical Library), vol. IX: Demetrius and Antony; Pyrrhus and Caius Marius, London, Heinemann/ Cambridge MA, Harvard University Press, 1920, repr. 1959, pp. 408-409.

Let none be misled by the figments of poets

In 1867 H.A.J. Munro produced a collation of a Cambridge manuscript of the Latin poem Aetna, traditionally ascribed to Vergil. This laid a basis for further study. In 1901 appeared Robinson Ellis’s standard edition with translation and commentary. In his preface, Ellis wrote, ‘This volume does not aspire to do more than adumbrate the present state of criticism on the many problems which the difficult poem Aetna raises’ (p. vii).

The poet seeks to explain the motive-powers of Etna (line 25, motus). ‘First, let none be misled by the figments of poets’ (29, fallacia uatum). ‘The gods own not a care so mean… they rule as kings aloft in their remote heaven, and disdain to handle the task of an artisan’ (32-35). Various fables told by poets are noted but excluded. ‘Poetry may claim such freedom, but my care is wholly centred in truth’ (91-92, omnis | In uero mihi cura). ‘Do but let your mind guide you to the understanding of nice (subtiles) investigations, and abstract from the things you see your belief of the unseen’ (144-145). ‘Facts and eyes are our teachers, facts force belief unassisted’ (190, Res oculique docent: res ipsae credere cogunt). ‘Yet this is man’s earlier task, to know the nature of the earth (cognoscere terram), and note the many marvels (miranda) which nature has brought to light therein: this is for us a noble task, one that borders on the stars of heaven’ (250-252).

H.A.J. Munro, Aetna, revised, amended and explained, Cambridge, Deighton Bell/ London, Bell and Daldy, 1867. The quotations are from the translation in Robinson Ellis (ed.), Aetna: A Critical Recension of the Text, Based on a New Examination of MSS., with Prolegomena, Translation, Textual and Exegetical Commentary, Excursus, and Complete Index of the Words, Oxford, Clarendon, 1901. Robinson Ellis (ed.), Aetna, with new introduction and bibliography by Katharina Volk, Exeter, Bristol Phoenix, 2008.

Explaining Mount Etna

The Latin poem Aetna, datable on internal grounds to the first century AD, has been transmitted in fragmentary condition without firm indications of authorship. The theme had been dealt with previously by a number of poets, including Vergil and Ovid, and Mount Etna is among the natural wonders described in Book 6 of Lucretius’ On the Nature of Things.

A case has been made for attributing the poem to Seneca’s friend and correspondent Lucilius, but the matter is disputed. In particular, there is the evidence of Seneca’s Epistle 79, in which Seneca asks Lucilius to climb Etna and to investigate the question of whether the mountain has, as some suspect, diminished in height. Perhaps it consumes itself in its volcanic activity (or is it a mere outlet for subterranean materials?), or perhaps the fire and smoke have lessened and this gives the impression that the height is decreasing. Lucilius was at that time procurator of Sicily, with responsibilities for touring the island and therefore well placed to learn about its geography.

Seneca approaches the subject of Mount Etna in two ways, both of them philosophical. First is the question of explaining a natural phenomenon in order to understand its causes and operations. This outlook stands in opposition to traditional ways of explaining extreme events, such as earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, as expressions of divine power and will. Secondly, Seneca uses the mountain as an example of the highest things, of which some can diminish (such as Mount Etna), while one thing will never diminish – the summit of virtue.

Our soul is called upward to virtue’s unchanging heights. ‘For goodness does not mean merely being better than the lowest.’ We cannot outdo each other in attaining virtue. We can each get there by various means but none of us can do better than reach the top. People who have attained wisdom are therefore equal.

Virtue has its own fame, which will manifest itself eventually. A person’s contemporaries may not be willing to acknowledge true merit in an individual’s achievement, but this does not matter. ‘Virtue is never lost to view, and yet to be lost to view is no loss.’ Virtue does not leave a person unrewarded.

Virtue has never failed to reward a man, both during his life and after his death, provided he has followed her loyally, provided he has not decked himself out or painted himself up… Pretence accomplishes nothing (Nihil simulatio proficit).

The quotations are from Richard M. Gummere (trans.), Seneca: Ad Lucilium Epistulae morales (Loeb Classical Library), vol. I, London, Heinemann/ New York, Putnam’s Sons, 1925, Epistle 79 (pp. 200-211).

Philosophical thoughts of Seneca and Lucilius

We learn something of Lucilius, to whom Seneca addressed his Moral Epistles, from two of the Epistles in which Seneca quotes from Lucilius’s own poetry.

Epistle 8 deals with the importance of philosophical contemplation. It may seem idle, to withdraw from business and to think alone. But thinking and writing are like prescribing useful drugs: they are helpful to others and to future generations. Things of Chance that please the populace are snares and traps; we must avoid these things and devote ourselves to what is of permanent value. We should eat and drink, and clothe and house ourselves, only so far as is adequate for the body’s needs, without over-indulgence. Nothing is to be admired except the soul. Hence Epicurus bids us be slaves of philosophy. One does not have to be an Epicurean to value Epicurus’s sayings: they are common property, as are the many wise sayings that we find in poetry and drama. For example, Publilius has a fine line to the effect that we do not really possess the gifts of Chance, and Lucilius himself expresses the same idea concisely and well when he says:

Non est tuum, fortuna quod fecit tuum. What Chance has made yours is not really yours.

And:

Dari bonum quod potuit, auferri potest. The good that could be given, can be removed.

Epistle 24 is concerned with attitudes to death. Lucilius is anxious about a threatened law-suit and of the possible outcome, and he wants reassurance. Seneca encourages him by saying that on the one hand there is no need to spoil life by anticipating trouble, and on the other hand troubles come but we can expect to endure them just as others in the past have endured them. Thus we should despise death itself. Brave men, and less than brave men, have found courage to face death. By thinking of death, we need not fear other things. If death can be despised, other sufferings can be despised. ‘You were born to these perils’ (In haec natus es). Moreover, when death comes, it is but the end of a long process. Death does not come suddenly: we ‘advance towards it by slight degrees; we die every day. For every day a little of our life is taken from us…’ Lucilius himself has expressed the idea, truly and appropriately:

Mors non una venit, sed quae rapit, ultima mors est. Not single is the death which comes; the death | Which takes us off is but the last of all.

The quotations are from Richard M. Gummere (trans.), Seneca: Ad Lucilium Epistulae morales (Loeb Classical Library), vol. I, London, Heinemann/ New York, Putnam’s Sons, 1925.