Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics

Part of 2014/2 PHI110 Stoic Ethics. Content is copied from the library in fair dealing for purpose of research or study.

Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics: An introduction to Hellenistic philosophy

Written by R. W. Sharples. Published 1996 by Routledge.

Available from Amazon and Booktopia.

Extract: How can I be happy?

The Central Question of Ethics

The opposition between Epicureanism and Stoicism is as marked in their ethics as anywhere; and disagreements over how best to live one's life are going to have more practical consequences, and be more noted by society at large, than disagreements over such issues as the infinite divisibility of matter. But once again there are also similarities between the two schools, and indeed with the sceptical schools as well. These similarities are of two types, first those concerning the basic framework of the discussion, and second those concerning some, though only some, of the practical attitudes that the schools recommend.

For the Epicureans and the Stoics, as for other ancient Greek thinkers and notably for Aristotle, the basic question of ethics is not 'what sort of actions are right?' but 'what sort of person should I be?', or 'what life-style and policies should I adopt?' The very term 'ethics' is derived from êthos, which means 'character'. The sort of person one is and the life-style one adopts will indeed have and immediate bearing on the actions one performs, and both Stoics and Epicureans would agree with Aristotle (EN 1.8) that character cannot be divorced from action -- you cannot be a just or courageous person if you behave in an unjust or cowardly fashion; but the emphasis of an ethics that centres upon characters and life-styles is going to be different from that of one that centres upon actions. And that is why I have formulated the title of this chapter in a way that includes a reference to the agent.

This, however, carries with it a further implication. If the primary concern of ethics is with how it is best for me to live, then even when it has been established what sort of actions are 'right', there remains the question whether performing such actions is the best way for me to live, and if so why. (Unless, indeed, we simply define 'right actions' as the ones it is best for me to perform.) Even Plato in the Republic has Socrates commend justice to others by the rewards it brings to oneself, not indeed the material rewards (though once the argument is concluded these are rather optimistically added in; 612D-614A) or rewards in the next world (614A ff.), but the intrinsic reward of happiness which justice brings (361C; 367D; 445A; 588A ff.).

The difference between the ancient Greek ethics of personal 'happiness' and the Kantian ideals of duty which prevailed until quite recently (at least in what people said) can be captured by the thought that for the former 'why should I do what is right?' is a question requiring an answer, while for the latter it no more admits or requires an answer than does 'why should I believe what is true?' In 1960 Arthur Adkins could, famously, declare that 'We are all Kantians now'; but already in 1974 Sir Kenneth Dover could comment on this that 'Unless I am seriously deceiving myself, I and most of the people I know well find the Greeks of the Classical period easier to understand than Kantians.' Nevertheless, in the mid-1970s first-year Classics undergraduates were in my experience still shocked, ostensibly anyway, at the suggestion that one might need a reason for doing what one accepted was right. Not so more recently -- which may just show that moral discourse has become more realistic than it used to be. Perhaps, then, reflecting on ancient Greek moral discourse may have something to tell us about the terms in which discussions might (not 'should') be framed, even if we do not accept the ancients' conclusions.

For Aristotle it was axiomatic that all people both naturally pursue, and ought to pursue, eudaimonia -- conventionally, and subsequently in this book, translated into English by 'happiness', sometimes translated instead by 'flourishing', but essentially the sort of life that brings satisfaction and of which we congratulate or 'felicitate' the possessors. And this approach was shared by Aristotle's successors. Being 'happy' and being a 'good' person necessarily go together; but 'a good person' means not so much a morally virtuous one (though moral virtue is a necessary and important component of goodness and happiness for Aristotle, a necessary component of it for Epicurus, and identical with it for the Stoics) as a human being who is living the best life for a human being. The question, for Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus and Stoics alike, is what sort of life is best, what sort of life constitutes 'happiness'.

It follows that ethics for both Epicureans and Stoics is self-referential; the agent is concerned with how he or she can achieve a happy life, with what is the good for me. Here, however, there is a danger of misunderstanding. There are aspects of both Stoic and Epicurean ethics that may seem to a modern sensibility selfish and self-regarding in a bad sense, inconsiderate of others and lacking in humanity. But these features need not be the inevitable consequences of adopting a self-referential approach to ethics. In much modern thought, influenced by Christianity, there is a polar opposition between altruism on the one hand and selfishness on the other; if we think of ourselves at all, this view would imply, we must be sacrificing the interests of others to our own in a selfish and reprehensible fashion.

Aristotle is aware, to be sure, that there can be such a thing as bad self-love. But he does not regard it as the only kind. And in this he is surely right; concern that one should oneself by the best sort of person possible and live the happiest life may well involve actions for the benefit of others, if these are characteristic of the good and happy person. There may be a more realistic hope of encouraging people to act in the interests of others, if doing so is seen as being a part of acting in one's own true interest too, rather than self-interest and acting in the interest of others being necessarily antithetical. Such at least seems to be the ancient perspective, and we will have cause to return to it not only in this chapter but also in the next.

The Epicureans

For Epicurus the goal of life is pleasure, and the happy life is that with most pleasure and least pain. But this does not mean, as might be thought, the life of perpetual physical self-indulgence -- though Epicurus already in his own lifetime protested against those who understood him so (ad Men. 131 - LS 21B5), and Sedley has shown that a former follower of Epicurus, Timocrates, who quarrelled with him, was partly responsible for encouraging such misunderstandings. Misunderstandings were probably, however, inevitable.

For Epicurus, the limit of pleasure is the removal of pain -- both physical pain and mental anxiety. Once pain has been removed, anything further can only be a 'variation' (poikilmos) -- a 'seasoning', as it were -- of pleasure; it cannot increase it, and so it can be dispensed with:

The limit of magnitude of pleasures is the removal of all
pain. Wherever pleasure is present, for as long as it is present,
there is neither pain, nor distress, nor the combination of the
two.
                                                  (PD 3 = LS 21C)

Pleasure is not increased, but only varied in the flesh, when
once what caused pain because of lack has been removed.
                                                 (PD 18 = LS 21E)

Lavish banquets may give variety to life, but they do not bring a greater degree of pleasure than does simple food, provided that such food is enough to dispel hunger:

We think that self-sufficiency is a great good, not in order
to use only a little in every case, but so that we can make
use of a little when we do not have much; being genuinely
persuaded that the people who have the most pleasant enjoy-
ment of extravagance are those who need it least, and that
everything which is natural is easily obtained, while it is
what is empty that is hard to obtain. Simple flavours give as
much pleasure as an extravagant diet, whenever all the pain
due to lack is removed; and barley-bread and water produce
the summit of pleasure, whenever someone in need consumes
them.
                                 (ad Men. 130-1 = LS 21B)

[How blind you are] not to see that nature barks for nothing
else for itself, except that pain should be absent and removed
from the body, and that in the mind it should enjoy pleasant
sensation with anxiety and fear banished? So we see that for
our bodily nature few things altogether are needed, whatever
can remove pain, and also furnish many delights. Nature
herself on each occasion requires nothing more welcome,
even if there are not golden statues of young men throughout
the house holding flaming lamps in their right hands to
provide light for the night-time banquets, and the house does
not shine with silver and glitter with gold, and gilded coffered
ceilings do not echo to the lyre -- when lying down together
in soft grass beside a stream of water beneath the branches
of a lofty tree people pleasantly relax without great wealth,
especially when the weather smiles on them and the season
of the year sprinkles the green grass with flowers. Nor do
hot fevers leave the body more swiftly if you toss under
embroidered cloths and ruddy purple, than if you have to
lie under the common person's cloak.
                                   (Lucretius, 2.16-36 = LS 21W)

Or more succinctly: 'He who knows the limits of life knows that what removes pain due to want and renders the whole of life complete is easily obtained; so that there is no need of deeds which involve competition' (PD 21 = LS 24C).

The Epicurean will enjoy banquets and the good things of life if possible, provided of course he or she does so in moderation and in a way that will not bring more pain in the long run. Epicurus is not an advocate of asceticism like those Platonists or Christians who argued that bodily pleasures were a hindrance to intellectual or spiritual advance. But the Epicurean will not be anxious about maintaining a social and financial position which will ensure that continued availability of banquets, for such security cannot in fact be achieved for certain, and the anxieties involved in the attempt are likely to spoil the enjoyment one would otherwise have; and general frugality makes us more able to appreciate the occasional luxury properly (ad Men. 131 = LS 21B):

The anxiety of the soul is not removed, nor any joy worth
mentioning produced, either by the presence of the greatest
wealth or by honour and notability among the multitude or
by anything else of what comes from causes that know no
limit.
   (Epicurus, Vatican Sayings 81 = LS 21H; my emphasis)

All pleasures qua pleasant are good, but just for that very reason (ad Men. 129 = LS 21B) we need to be discriminating to ensure our course of action will not bring us more pain in the long run. Desires can for Epicurus be divided into three types: the natural and necessary, the natural but non-necessary, and the unnatural and non-necessary; the necessary desires are further subdivided into some of which the satisfaction is necessary for happiness, others for the body's being free from disturbance, others for life itself (ibid. 127 = LS 21B). The necessary desires will presumably include those for food, drink, and shelter, without which we cannot live; for sex, if that is what is referred to by 'the body's being free from disturbance'; and, presumably, for happiness, desire for freedom from anxiety. Natural buy non-necessary desires