SOURCE: Terence Irwin, "Epicureanism," in A History of Western Philosophy: I Classical Thought, Oxford University Press, 1989, pp. 145-63.

[In the following excerpt, Irwin places Epicurean thought in the context of Greek political and intellectual history. He investigates the movement's doctrine using the tools of logic.]

i. The Hellenistic world¹

The 'Hellenistic Age' (a term coined by modern historians, not by the Greeks) begins with the death of Alexander the Great in 323, and ends with the end of the Roman Republic and the victory of Octavian (later Augustus) in 31 BC. Alexander conquered the empires of Persia and Egypt, and his successors ruled over them until they were incorporated in the Roman Empire under Augustus.

Alexander's conquests extended the Greek-speaking world. Greek cities (Alexandria in Egypt being the most famous) were founded throughout his empire; and they made the Greek language and culture familiar and dominant far beyond mainland Greece and Ionia.² Though Greek culture spread over a wide area, however, it did not penetrate very deeply; for the new Greek cities remained sharply separated from the surrounding rural areas, where native language, culture, and religion survived, and Greek speakers were an alien elite.³ Still, Greek became the primary language of the Eastern Roman Empire, and remained so until AD 1453, when the last Byzantine emperor was deposed. Because Greek was the dominant language, the Hebrew scriptures were translated into Greek (the 'Septuagint', from the seventy-two translators traditionally supposed to have produced it), and the Christian scriptures were originally composed in Greek.⁴

Alexander succeeded his father Philip as king of Macedon; and the Macedonians became the dominant power in Greece even before their Asian conquests. From then on, the major Greek states, including Athens (Sparta was now a minor power), no longer enjoyed their previous degree of autonomy. The Athenian orator Demosthenes (384-322) was one of those who regarded the coming of the Macedonians as the end of Greek freedom; and he urged resistance to Philip and Alexander.⁵ Not everyone, however, thought the Macedonians were so dangerous to freedom. Two centuries later the historian Polybius (c. 200-after 118 BC, vigorously defended the other side of the case, in his argument for the pro-Macedonians in the Peloponnese:

By inducing Philip into the Peloponnese, and by humiliating the Spartans, they allowed all the Peloponnesians to draw new breath, and to form the thought of freedom; further they [the Peloponnesians] recovered the territories and cities that the Spartans had, during their prosperity, taken from them…and undoubtedly strengthened their own states.

Nor did Macedonian domination completely transform the political life of Greek cities. When new Greek cities were founded across Alexander's empire, a similar pattern of political life was to some degree repeated.⁶

The condition of the Greek cities in the Hellenistic world helps to explain some new developments in Greek intellectual life. The foundation of the Museum and Library in Alexandria, as centres of study and research, helped to make that city the main focus of natural science, medicine, and literary studies. Athens remained the centre of philosophy. This division tended to encourage some separation of philosophical from scientific studies. This was not a sharp division. Theophrastus (c.370-c.287) and Straton (died 269), for instance, two of Aristotle's successors in his school the Lyceum, continued his strong interest in empirical scientific research and theory. But the Lyceum lost influence and vigour, and no other philosophical school arrested the tendencies to specialization—and these were in any case a natural result of the development and elaboration of philosophy.

In Athens distinct schools of philosophy formed, arguing with each other, and competing for the attention of students. Stoics, Epicureans, Sceptics, and Peripatetics (i.e. Aristotelians) formulated their own doctrines and strategies. This tendency was a predictable result of developments in philosophy; but the concentration of these schools in Athens (in contrast to the early fifth century) also reflected the place of that city in Greek culture and higher education. Both Athens and other cities began to require some philosophical instruction as part of the course of training (originally military) for young men of the upper classes. The Athenian philosophical schools therefore influenced some of the content of higher education for the ruling classes.⁷

Athens eventually became an international centre of philosophical study not just for the Greek world, but also for the whole Roman Empire; and it retained this position for at least six centuries. In 146 BC the Romans completed the conquest of Greece, with the sack and destruction of Corinth; but, as the Roman poet Horace, (65 BC-AD 8) remarks, 'Greece took its brutish captor captive and introduced the arts into rustic Latium'. From then on the Roman ruling class cultivated Greek literary and philosophical studies, with increasing success.⁸

ii. Epicurus: general aims

For Epicurus (341-271), as for Socrates, philosophy is a way to reform our lives. We conduct our lives badly because we fear death; and we fear death because we fear punishment after death. Cephalus' remarks at the beginning of Plato's Republic illustrate the fears that Epicurus has in mind:

When a man begins to realize he is going to die, he is filled with apprehension and concern about matters that previously did not occur to him. the stories (muthos) that are told about Hades and how the men who have done injustice here must pay the just penalty there; and though he may have ridiculed them hitherto, they now begin to torture his soul with the fear that they may after all be true.

According to Cephalus, wealth is some protection against these fears, since it removes the temptation to cheat people, and allows us to make lavish offerings to the gods—two ways to avoid punishment after death. Hence the fear of death stimulates the desire to accumulate wealth.

Epicurus thinks that fear of death underlies all the acquisitive and competitive aspects of our lives; indeed, he thinks it explains our tendency to accept a Homeric outlook. Fearing death, we try to assure ourselves of security and protection against other people. The search for security leads us to pursue power, wealth, and honour, and makes us constantly afraid of losing them. We seek posthumous fame and honour, as Achilles did, because we refuse to admit to ourselves that we will not be present to enjoy it; and our fear of death explains why we refuse to admit that we will not be present. We occupy ourselves in constant activity and competition, to conceal our fear of death from ourselves. We do not realize that fear of death is our basic motive; each of us 'flees from himself; we need occupations to divert us from the oppressive awareness of ourselves and our fears, but we do not know why we find the awareness of ourselves so oppressive.⁹

Epicurus' diagnosis of human fears and ambitions is his reason for studying the nature of the universe. As Lucretius (? 94-55), a Roman poet and Epicurean, says:

We must disperse this terror of the mind, this darkness, not by the sun's rays and the day's gleaming shafts, but by nature's face and law.

Epicurus himself claims that this is the only reason that we need to study nature:

If we had never been troubled by suspicions about the heavens, or that death might be something to us, or by ignorance of the limits of pains and appetites, we would have had no need to study nature (phusiologia).¹⁰

To remove our fears, both the known and the unacknowledged, we need an account of the universe that gives us no reason to fear death. We free ourselves from fear once we believe that the universe is not controlled by gods who determine or modify natural processes for their own purposes, and that we do not survive death. If we have reason to believe this, then (in Epicurus' view) we have no reason to think death does any harm to us; hence we have no reason to fear death; hence we will no longer fear death.

iii. The challenge of Scepticism

To find a theory of the universe that dissolves our fear of death and the gods, Epicurus turns to the Atomism of Leucippus and Democritus. Aristotle attacks Atomism in so far as he insists on the reality of form and the truth of teleological explanations; and Epicurus presents a defence of Atomism against Aristotle's attacks.

On one important point, however, he is closer to Aristotle than to Democritus. In Democritus' view, the atomic theory depends on principles that are evident to reason, but contrary to the testimony of the senses; the world revealed by reason is quite different from anything that the senses show us. The conflict between sense and reason leads Democritus some way towards scepticism, and forces him to ask where he will find the evidence for his theory if he disregards the senses.¹¹ Not surprisingly, Aristotle criticizes Atomism for its conflicts with the appearances. Epicurus, however, starts from an epistemological position quite close to Aristotle's and argues, against both Aristotle and Democritus, that this position actually supports Atomism.

Epicurus has good reason to reconsider Democritus' epistemological position, not only because of Aristotle's criticism, but also because of the revival of scepticism after Aristotle. A central Sceptical question concerns the problem of the 'criterion' (or 'standard'; Greek kritêrion, from krinein, 'judge' or 'discriminate') to be used in discriminating true appearances from false ones. The Sceptic argues that we have no reliable standard. Appearances conflict; different things appear true to different people; even if we confine ourselves to sensory appearances, these conflict; and hence we cannot rely on the senses as a criterion. How, in any case, do we know we have found a criterion? We can justifiably treat some principle or method P1 as a criterion only if we know that P1 gives us true answers; but apparently we cannot know that without appealing to some further principle P2 to serve as a criterion for deciding about P1; but we can ask the same question about P2, leading us to a further principle P3; and now we face an infinite regress, giving us no answer to our original question.¹²

The Sceptic facing arguments of apparently equal strength for conflicting conclusions finds no basis for choosing between the conclusions, suspends judgement about their truth, and thereby claims to achieve tranquillity (ataraxia)—freedom from fear and anxiety. This Sceptical claim suggests a further challenge to Epicurus. For he and the Sceptic seem to agree that tranquillity is the right goal; and the Sceptic seems to offer a short cut to it by suspension of judgement. Why should Epicurus pursue tranquillity by the more laborious route of a dogmatic theory about the world?

Epicurus rejects this Sceptical solution. If we are Sceptics, he thinks, we will be full of indecision and, therefore, of disturbance. If we cannot decide between two views, our indecision will leave us worried and agitated; we therefore need some basis for judgement and decision. The Sceptic admits that it is simply a matter of good luck that tranquillity follows suspension of judgement. Epicurus suggests that the Sceptic is foolishly optimistic in hoping for tranquillity rather than anxiety.¹³

iv. The appeal to the senses

In reply to Scepticism, Epicurus thinks we must trust the senses: 'If you fight with all your perceptions, you will have nothing to refer to in your judgement of whichever ones of them you say are false.' He relies on the argument that Democritus offers on behalf of the senses; we have no more confidence in anything than we have in the senses, and so if we lose confidence in them, we lose it in everything else as well. Trust in the senses is the only alternative to scepticism, since it is the only way out of complete suspension of judgement about everything.

This argument claims that we cannot totally reject the senses, and must accept some of their reports. But Epicurus accepts all their reports, and so claims that all perceptions are true. In developing a sceptical argument, Descartes argues that 'it is sometimes proved to me that these senses are deceptive, and it is wiser not to trust entirely to anything by which we have once been deceived'. Epicurus takes this sceptical doubt further, arguing that any doubt about any sensory report requires general doubt about all sensory reports, and hence total suspension of judgement.¹⁴

This total confidence in the senses appears to expose them to a different attack. For we might think that if we accept every report of the senses, we will have to accept conflicting reports (e.g. the stick appears bent when I see it in water, and straight when I pull it out); then we will have to admit conflicting appearances (the stick appears both bent and straight); since we are not allowed to choose between them, and both cannot be true of the same object, we cannot say how the object is. This argument drove Democritus to scepticism about the senses.

In reply Epicurus denies any conflict between the two appearances of the stick, and appeals to the Atomic theory. The appearance of the bent stick is true, in so far as it corresponds to a bent configuration of atoms thrown off by the stick and eventually hitting the eyes. The appearance of the straight stick is true, in so far as it corresponds to a straight configuration of atoms. We are usually wrong if we expect the bent-stick-in-water appearance to be followed by a bent-stick-out-of-water appearance. But the error lies with us and our hasty inferences and false beliefs, not in the senses themselves.

If Epicurus is right, then our appearance of a chair is an accurate presentation of a chair-shaped configuration of atoms. But this answer does not undermine sceptical doubts about our belief in such things as chairs. For chair-shaped configurations may be momentary and short-lived, and further beliefs are needed for the inference that the configuration belongs to the longerlasting configuration that is a chair. We avoid scepticism only if we can show that these inferences are warranted. Sometimes we explain our chair-shaped appearances as the products of dreams or hallucinaitons, even though, in Epicurus' view, they result from some external chair-shaped configuration. Why should this not always be so?¹⁵

Epicurus defends the senses by restricting our normal view of what they say, and hence rejecting our belief that sensory reports may conflict. But since sensory reports, as he construes them, tell us so little, his defence of their accuracy does not answer a Sceptical doubt about common beliefs that are based on the senses. Epicurus has not shown that he has good reason for believing in the ordinary external world of persisting objects. Though he defends the truth of the purely sensory appearances, he does not defend the appearances that matter most for the construction of a scientific theory.

v. Sense and science

In Democritus' view, the atomic theory is the product of reason superseding the senses; the conflicting appearances of sense show that reality cannot consist of things with colour, taste, and so on, but must consist of indestructible atoms. Since Epicurus insists on the senses as the criterion of truth, he cannot use Democritus' argument. He must argue that the evidence of the senses themselves supports atomism. For this purpose we must allow that Epicurus has answered sceptical threats to our belief in an objective world; and we must see whether he can argue from this belief to the truth of the atomic theory.

Some examples suggest the strategy. Atomism tells us (a1) the atoms are in constant motion, and (a2) they lack colour. The senses, however, seem to tell us (b1) there are stable bodies not in constant motion, and (b2) bodies are coloured. The evidence of the senses, then, seems to conflict with atomism, because we cannot understand how (c1) apparently stable bodies are simply collections of moving constituents, or how (c2) apparently coloured bodies are simply collections of colourless constituents.

Lucretius, however, argues that the senses provide us with examples of (c), and hence do not commit us to (b) against (a). He describes two cases: (c1) We see a flock of sheep on a distant hill; though from a distance they appear still, we see, when we come closer, that they are moving. (c2) We tear a red rag into smaller and smaller pieces, and gradually lose the colour. Attention to these examples supports the claims in (c); and so trust in the senses does not conflict with (a). When we think the evidence of the senses requires the truth of (b), we are looking carelessly at ill-chosen examples. In fact the evidence of the senses tells us to accept the atomic theory, not to reject it.¹⁶

Epicurus concludes, against Democritus, that atomists need not reject the senses; they need only attend carefully and without prejudice to what the senses really tell us. Aristotle assumes that judgements such as (b) are among the appearances that a theory should vindicate; but Epicurus replies that these are common beliefs, not genuine sensory appearances, and that the genuine sensory appearances do not commit us to (b).

His attempted defence raises a general difficulty about all the numerous and elaborate arguments for the atomic theory. In Epicurus' view, some questions allow only one answer that is consistent with the evidence of the senses, whereas other questions allow several answers that are consistent with such evidence. Questions of the second type (e.g. about the size of the sun) arise because the relevant observations are not available. These cases allow many 'empirically equivalent' theories and explanations, all equally consistent with the evidence of the senses; an Epicurean does not choose between them.¹⁷

It is important for Epicurus to show that the atomic theory answers a question of the first type, so that he has reason to believe in it as opposed to rival theories. His arguments, however, seem to show only that it is consistent with observation; he hardly shows that it is the only theory of this sort. It seems easy to imagine a non-atomist account of the world that is consistent with the evidence of the senses. We argued, indeed, that the Homeric view could easily show itself to be consistent with any observations; that was why the naturalists could not hope to refute Homer by a simple appeal to the senses.¹⁸ If this is true, then the atomic theory does not answer questions of the first type, since such questions do not seem decidable by the test of mere consistency with observations. The atomic theory seems to be only one of a number of empirically equivalent theories, and Epicurus' own principles forbid us to prefer it over rival theories that are equally consistent with observations.

This difficulty for Epicurus is parallel to one we raised at a more elementary level, in arguing that he fails to rule out the suggestion that our purported experience of an objective world is really a dream or hallucinaiton. In each case the view that Epicurus chooses may well be the most reasonable; but his demand for mere consistency with the senses does not support his choice.

vi. Atomism and the soul

Epicurus wants to show that the soul is a collection of atoms, just as trees and chairs are, and therefore is just as certain to decay and dissolve into its constituents. If Epicurus is right about this, then Plato cannot be right to believe in an immaterial and immortal soul. If we do not believe in immortality, we will not believe that we can suffer harm after death, and therefore, Epicurus thinks, we have no reason to fear death and will not fear death.

Lucretius collects a series of twenty-nine Epicurean arguments for the mortality of the soul; but most of them show the characteristic weakness of Epicurean empiricism. Lucretius finds abundant evidence to show that the soul is affected by what happens to the body: a blow on the head causes me pain, my mind decays with my body, and so on. One possible explanation of these facts will say that the soul is material and destructible, and depends on the body for its existence. But that is only one possible explanation, and someone who agrees with Plato that the soul is immaterial and immortal can offer other explanations.¹⁹

To rule out these other explanations, a materialist might claim that only material bodies can be affected by material bodies. If this claim is true, the soul cannot be immaterial; but how do we know it is true? Epicurus will hardly convince us that no other view is consistent with the evidence of the senses; to justify his materialism he must rely on a claim that is not warranted by his empiricism. Since he believes that a claim about reality is illegitimate unless it is warranted by his empiricism, his argument faces grave objections, on purely Epicurean grounds.

Epicurus' treatment of the soul raises a broader question about the extent of his disagreement with Aristotle. He wants to show not only that the soul is mortal, but also that it is simply a collection of atoms. He therefore argues for eliminative atomism, rejecting the claims of form (and therefore of soul) to be anything distinct from the collection of atoms. He speaks of compounds of atoms, roughly corresponding to macroscopic objects as ordinarily conceived; but their status is obscure. He thinks every change in a compound implies its destruction, probably because he follows Heracleitus in accepting a compositional principle of identity; in that case he cannot recognize the persistent substances that Aristotle recognizes.²⁰ Though Epicurus' conception of the world leaves no room for Aristotelian substance and form, he hardly justifies their exclusion.

vii. The gods

Plato's Laws contains a discussion of different types of unsound views about the gods. After replying to a complete atheist, Plato turns to the person who believes in the gods but is so impressed by the apparent imperfections of the world that he concludes that the gods have no concern for it. This is Epicurus' view; and whereas Plato condemns it as a threat to religion and morality, Epicurus thinks we need it for a sound attitude to death, and therefore to our lives.

To show that the gods are not concerned with the world, Epicurus attacks a particular teleological doctrine. Plato and the Stoics argue that the order in individual organisms depends on the larger order that maintains them, and that this order is plausibly explained as the product of intelligent design. The order in the world supplies an argument for the existence of a designing god.

In reply Epicurus holds that the disorder in the world tells against the existence of any designing gods. Natural disasters and other apparent imperfections suggest that only non-purposive forces could control the processes in the world—unless the gods are remarkably stupid, malicious, or incompetent. The flaws in the observed character of the world confirm the atomic theory, and undermine belief in gods who care about the world.²¹

These arguments against design do not answer all of Aristotle's reasons for believing in teleology. Aristotle claims that organisms are to be understood and explained ideologically, without claiming that they must be products of design. Epicurus must reject this claim if he rejects the reality of form. But though his commitment to eliminative atomism requires rejection of form, he does not undermine Aristotle's case. His failure to answer Aristotle does not necessarily affect his specific arguments against design; but it may affect his reasons for believing the basic atomist principles.

Though Epicurus denies that the gods design or control the world order, he believes that empiricism requires him to accept gods. For in dreams and visions people claim to be aware of gods; and something external must correspond to their perceptions, since all perceptions are true; but the only external things that could correspond to our perceptions are immortal, intelligent, and blessedly happy beings looking like human beings with human bodies. The gods, like everything else with human or animal bodies, must be composed of atoms; but they are not destroyed in the way other collections of atoms are destroyed, since they live between the words that are subject to destruction, and so avoid the atomic forces that destroy other collections of atoms.²²

This account of the gods maintains empiricism, and remains strikingly congenial to one element of traditional Greek religious thought. He agrees with Homer's description of the gods as blessedly happy, not vulnerable to the dangers that threaten human beings. By insisting on this aspect of the gods, Epicurus raises a serious question: why should an invulnerable and blessed being interest himself in the world or in us? Plato appeals to the Demiurge's desire to create something that embodies the Forms; but we may wonder how that desire is consistent with the gods' independence. Why should they want to create a world, if they are already completely happy and need nothing more?²³

viii. Necessity and freedom

In accepting the atomic theory, Epicurus agrees with Democritus' naturalist determinism: all natural processes are the necessary results of atomic movements, with no external interference from gods, and no laws irreducible to laws about atomic movements. The same patterns are repeated in nature because the same atomic forces operate, and their operations necessarily produce the same results.

This belief in necessity, however, seems to conflict with our belief that human beings are free and responsible agents. We suppose that it is up to us how we act, and that we can fairly be praised or blamed for our actions. Moreover, the Epicurean message is addressed to us on the assumption that we have a real choice about how to live our lives. The Epicurean takes control of his life, and frees himself from the fears that preoccupy most people. But if atomist determinism is true, all our actions are nothing but the necessary result of atomic movements, all the way back to the infinitely distant past. How could our belief in responsibility be true, and how could it be up to us to take control of our lives?²⁴

Aristotle seems to suggest that I am justly held responsible for my action if certain negative conditions are met—if I am not pushed or otherwise physically forced, and my action is not the result of ignorance. But Epicurus notices that even if Aristotle's conditions are met, my action might still be necessitated by past states of the world beyond my control. Epicurus thinks determination by the past excludes responsibility; indeed, he says it would be better to believe in interfering gods than to believe the philosophers who speak of fate and natural necessity.²⁵

Epicurus might well argue that other remarks of Aristotle's support the incompatibilist view that responsibility is incompatible with determinism. Aristotle claims that if I am responsible for an action, the action is 'up to me'—I am free to do and not to do it; and 'the origin is in me'—I am the cause. Epicurus implicitly argues:

(1) If determinism is true, events in the distant past make my action inevitable.

(2) If so, then they are the cause, and I am not.

(3) If I am not the cause, it is not up to me, and I am not responsible for it.

(4) Hence, if determinism is true, I am not responsible for my actions.

Steps (1) and (2) spell out the apparent consequences of determinism; Aristotle accepts (3); and so we seem to have no escape from (4).²⁶

Since Epicurus is an incompatibilist, but believes we are responsible for our actions, he rejects determinism, and modifies Democritean atomism. He claims that some atoms at some times undergo a random and imperceptible swerve from their normal course. This swerve introduces an uncaused motion; and in so far as our act of choice includes an atomic swerve, it is undetermined. This solution violates (so Epicurus claims) neither our experience of the world nor our firm belief in free will.²⁷

The solution is not clearly convincing. If each choice we think is free really is free, then every such choice includes a swerve. If Epicurus thinks the immediate evidence of sensation assures us that we are free, and therefore that there must have been an atomic swerve, he faces the usual difficulty for his empiricism: he does not rule out alternative explanations of the sensations of freedom.

But even if swerves happen on the right occasions, do they imply the sort of freedom that is needed for responsibility? If a choice involves a swerve, it is uncaused, and therefore cannot be caused by my past choices and my states of character. But actions that are unconnected to my past and my character are not the ones we think we are responsible for; indeed, we are more likely to regard them as aberrations allowing us to claim diminished responsibility. Epicurus' view implies, then, that I am no more responsible for any of my 'free' actions than I am for aberrations unconnected with my character; hence he seems to undermine claims of responsibility, not to defend them.

To answer this objection Epicurus needs to show that the inference from indeterminism to absence of causal connexion is unwarranted, or that responsibility does not require causal connexion between my action, my past choices, and my character. Other incompatibilists have taken up the tasks that he leaves unfinished; the issue has not yet been settled in their favour.

Epicurus is an incompatibilist about responsibility partly because he is an eliminative atomist. An alternative approach might say that claims about responsibility apply to Aristotelian souls and forms, not to their constituent matter, and that the eliminative, not the determinist, aspects of Democritus threaten responsibility. This approach is not open to Epicurus; but the Stoics exploit it.²⁸

ix. Pleasure, happiness, and virtue

Epicurus' ethical theory rests on his hedonism—his belief that pleasure is the ultimate good, and other things are good only to the extent that they are means to pleasure. Aristotle accepts the common belief that pleasure is a good and must be a component of any credible account of the good. Epicurus claims that this belief about pleasure is no mere common belief (an 'appearance' in Aristotle's broad sense), but an immediate appearance of sensation, and therefore infallible; and he claims that the infallible appearance recognizes pleasure as the good. All animals immediately recognize that pleasure is good, and pursue it as their end; children pursue it spontaneously before they have acquired any other beliefs about what is good.²⁹

Epicurus rejects the sensual pleasures that require expanded and demanding desires and abundant material resources. A life of such pleasures would, he concedes, be a happy life if it really maximized pleasure. But it cannot do this; the only way to maximize the balance of pleasure over pain is to eliminate anxiety, but sensual pleasures simply leave us prey to pains, fears, and needs. Dependence on external resources that are not in our control is a source of anxiety to be avoided. The Epicurean is to approach the independence and invulnerability of the gods, secure in his pleasures, and free from the external hazards causing fear and apprehension.³⁰

This conception of the good is meant to explain why the Epicurean cultivates the virtues that Plato and Aristotle describe. The Epicurean wants to regulate his desires so that they do not make him dependent on external fortune; he therefore values the results of temperance. He does not fear the loss of worldly goods, since he does not need many; he is therefore not tempted to act like a coward. He finds mutual aid and pleasure in the society of friends, and so he cultivates friendships.³¹

The Epicurean is not greedy for power or domination over others. He finds it a source of severe anxiety and insecurity. Since he understands the benefits of mutual aid and physical security, he follows rules of justice, for the reasons given by Glaucon and Adeimantus in Plato's Republic. Since he values freedom from anxiety, he will want to avoid the risk of detection and punishment—a risk that is the inevitable penalty of injustice, even if it leads to no further penalty. The evolution of society is to be explained neither as a product of divine design, nor (following Aristotle) as the expression of the inherently social nature of human beings, but simply as the product of particular responses to insecurity and danger. The needs that cause the formation of the state also give the Epicurean hedonist reason to conform to justice.³²

In all these ways Epicurus defends the Aristotelian virtues, as he conceives them, by means of quite un-Aristotelian premisses. He argues that the pursuit of pleasure, properly understood, actually requires the cultivation of the moral virtues.

x. Questions about Epicurean ethics

Doubts about Epicurus' argument may arise even if we accept hedonism. He argues for a version of hedonism that values freedom and independence from externals; he avoids the excitements of gross sensual pleasures, and of the more subtle pleasures that depend heavily on external resources, because these pleasures are sources of anxiety. But can this preference for independence and security be defended on hedonistic grounds? Epicurus claims that the anxiety, fear, and insecurity resulting from self-indulgence and intemperance are too severe to be tolerated; but it is hard to justify this claim on purely hedonistic grounds, and any nonhedonistic argument is, for Epicurus, quite worthless.

Hedonism in general faces wider questions about the relation of pleasure to happiness and the human good. Aristotle insists that no one would want to return to the condition of a child, even if he could maximize the sorts of pleasures that a child enjoys.³³ He implies that objective features of my situation—including the nature of the activities I enjoy—make a difference to my well-being and happiness. On Aristotle's view, my subjective attitude to my situation does not by itself determine whether or not I am happy or well off. This objection applies to Epicurus no less than to other hedonists. We could be content and free from anxiety even if we were crippled, our friends and family were being tortured, and we were sold into slavery, as long as we were deceived about these things or did not care about them. But if we apply Aristotle's test for the complete good, we see that we would be better off if all these things were going better. Epicurus does not seem to answer this objection to hedonism in general.

The objection is important if we want to evaluate a central assumption of the whole Epicurean outlook. Epicurus tries to relieve us from the fear of death:

Get used to thinking that death is nothing to us, since every good and evil is in sensation, and death is deprivation of sensation. Hence correct knowledge that death is nothing to us makes the mortal aspect of life enjoyable, not by adding unlimited time, but by having removed the longing for immortality.³⁴

He assumes that being dead would harm us only if it were painful after death. His whole method of removing the fear of death assumes a hedonist conception of a person's good.

Once we challenge hedonism, however, the fear of death may be harder to remove. If we say that a young person who dies before he has fulfilled his striking promise has suffered some harm, we do not mean that he felt or is feeling anything painful; we mean that he would have gained some great benefit if he had lived and that he has lost it because he has died. If death can do us this sort of harm, then we seem to have good reason (in some circumstances) to fear it. In this case Epicurus' theory of the good seems to leave out those goods that underlie some of our reasonable fears of death; for they are goods distinct from pleasure.

His hedonism also seems to threaten his defence of the virtues. He claims that they are simply instrumental to pleasure. Though an Epicurean is free of some temptations to act like a coward, that does not seem to make him brave. For a brave person is normally concerned about some important interest of himself or of other people he cares about; but the Epicurean's indifference to external conditions will apparently make him indifferent to these sorts of interests as well. Though he will not be tempted to shirk danger for the sake of his life, health, or material goods, he seems to have no particular reason to face danger either; when so few things matter to him, he seems to have no positive incentive to be brave.³⁵

For similar reasons, we may doubt the Epicurean's commitment to justice and friendship. Even if the threat of punishment deters him from all or most unjust actions, he seems to have no positive reason to care about the good of others for its own sake; for to care about it for its own sake would be to regard it as a good in itself, not simply a means to some other good, whereas a hedonist cannot allow this status to any good except pleasure. If the Epicurean is indifferent to the interest of others as a good in itself, he seems to have no reason for doing any good to them, except when it is instrumental to some further benefit to himself, and ultimately instrumental to his own pleasure.³⁶

We may reasonably be unconvinced, then, by Epicurus' efforts to reconcile his hedonism with the commonly recognized virtues that are defended by Plato and Aristotle. The failure of these efforts does not refute his hedonism; it may simply show the falsity of common views about the virtues. If Epicurus has to choose between the common views ('appearances' in the broad sense) and his hedonism (allegedly resting on immediate appearances of sensation), his empiricism requires him to choose hedonism. But is the truth of hedonism so clear that we are right to maintain it against so many of our fairly confident and considered judgements about goods and virtues? If the truth of hedonism is so obvious to sensation, should we perhaps doubt the truth of sensation? If we do that, we challenge the whole basis of Epicurus' system.

xi. The coherence of the system

Epicurus tries to construct a system of simple, coherent, and plausible principles. He is a hedonist who regards the fear of death as the most dangerous source of fear, insecurity, and unhappiness. To avoid insecurity we must trust the senses, since otherwise we will be filled with doubts and anxieties; and the senses assure us of the truth of atomism and hedonism. Each principle seems attractively simple, and they seem to combine into an attractive system. But in fact each is open to doubt, and they are hard to combine satisfactorily.

Epicurus' defence of atomism has often appealed to those who suppose that they take empirical science seriously. It often seems natural to suppose that science is justified by experience and observation. Epicurus takes the empiricist view to extreme lengths, refusing to reject the evidence of the senses on any occasion for any reason. In doing this, however, he prevents himself from justifying any reasonable scientific theory at all.

Epicurus believes we cannot choose between empirically equivalent explanations; and in believing this, he undermines his own empiricist defence of a scientific theory. For sense-perception (as he construes it) cannot rule out the possibility that our perceptions are a consistent hallucination, not matching any external objects; nor can it rule out rivals to the atomic theory. Epicurus' narrow view of sense-perception, and his exclusive trust in consistency with sense-perception as a test of a theory, undermine his argument from empiricism to atomism.

Hedonism in moral philosophy seems to be parallel to empiricism in the theory of knowledge—an intuitively appealing and superficially clear general principle that offers a method of understanding and criticizing other principles. Epicurus claims that it is not merely parallel to empiricism, but actually justified by empiricism, since he thinks we can see the truth of hedonism by appeal to immediate sensation. Like empiricism, hedonism seems easier and more plausible than its more complicated rivals; but once we examine its implications, we see it is neither clear nor plausible.

In antiquity Epicureanism was often brusquely dismissed. Its anti-religious tendencies (real and supposed) aroused suspicion; and its hedonism was sometimes misinterpreted as advocacy of immoral self-indulgence.³⁷ These dismissals did not rest on any careful criticism of the basic Epicurean principles; and so they did not undermine the appeal of the principles themselves. Brusque dismissal of Epicurus is unwarranted and self-defeating, failing to expose the real difficulties in his position. Exposure of the difficulties, however, has a useful result: it shows us why principles that initially seem simple and attractive are neither simple nor attractive after all.

Notes

¹ Hellenistic philosophy in general: Sedley in Barnes [1980], ch. 1; Long [1974]. Long [1987] is excellent; it contains many of the texts cited in this…chapter, and its commentary is a reliable guide to the problems.

² An inscription bearing the Delphic advice to know oneself (cf. Plato, Charmides 164c-165b) has been found in Afghanistan. See Walbank [1981], 61, Austin [1981], 314f.

³ See Acts of Apostles 14: 11, Jones [1940], 285-90. The later use of 'pagan' (Latin pagus, village) for non-Christians indicates this division between city and country.

⁴ Septuagint: Barrett [1956], 208-16; ODCC s. v. Aristeas.

⁵ Polybius ix. 28-9; Walbank [1981], 9If.

⁶ Polybius xviii. 14. 6-7. Political life: Jones [1964].

⁷ Alexandria and Athens: Lloyd [1973], chs. 1-2. Education: Jones [1940], 220-4.

⁸ Horace, Epistles ii. 1. 156-7 (referring to literature).

⁹ Cephalus: Plato, Rep. 330d-e. Security: Diogenes Laertius x. 141. Fame: contrast Plato, Symposium 208cd. Competition: Lucretius ii. 39-54, iii. 1053-75. Underlying fear of death: iii. 1053-6, 1068.

¹⁰ Purpose of studying nature: Lucretius ii. 58-60; Diogenes Laertius x. 143. On phusiologia see 3 § i.

¹¹ Scepticism: 4 § xii, 6 § ix, 9 § ii.

¹² Criterion: Sextus, Ρ ii. 14-16; ii. 18-20. The most extreme Sceptics were the Pyrrhonians, following Pyrrhon (c. 365-270). The Academic Sceptics took a more moderate line; see 6 § xix, 10 § i, Annas [1986]. Our evidence for this Hellenistic scepticism is largely derived from the later compilation by Sextus Empiricus. I use 'Sceptic' and 'Sceptical' with initial capitals for members or doctrines of these schools; I use small initial letters to refer more generally to this philosophical tendency.

¹³ Tranquillity: Sextus, Ρ i. 12, 25-9. Epicurus: Diogenes Laertius x. 146.

¹⁴ Senses: Diogenes Laertius x. 146-7; Sextus, AM viii. 9; Diogenes Laertius x. 52. Descartes: Meditation i.

¹⁵ Epicurus on conflicting appearances: Taylor in Barnes [1980], ch. 5. Dreams etc.: Plato, Theaetetus 158b-e.

¹⁶ Lucretius, ii. 112-41, 308-32, 826-33.

¹⁷ Empirical equivalence: Diogenes Laertius x. 87, 91, 94.

¹⁸ Senses: 3 § viii, 7 § ii-iii, xv.

¹⁹ Soul: Lucretius iii. 417-829.

²⁰ Compounds: Diogenes Laertius x. 69; Lucretius i. 670-1. See 3 § iv, 7 § v.

²¹ Gods: Plato, Laws 899d-900b. Design: Cicero, De Natura Deorum i. 43; Lucretius v. 195-234, 1161-1240.

²² Perceptions of gods: Sextus, AM ix. 43-6, Lucretius v. 1169-82. The gods' location: Lucretius v. 146-55, 75-8, Cicero, De Divinatione ii. 40.

²³ Divine happiness: Diogenes Laertius x. 123, Lucretius iii. 1827, Homer, Od 6. 42-6, Ar. EN 1178b8-23. Plato: 6 § xviii.

²⁴ Determinism: see 3 § ix.

²⁵ Aristotle: EN 1111a22-4. Fate: Diogenes Laertius x. 134.

²⁶ Aristotle: EN 1110al4-18, 1113b3-21.

²⁷ Swerve: Lucretius ii. 251-93; Furley [1967]; Long [1987], 106-12.

²⁸ See 9 § v.

²⁹ Pleasure: Diogenes Laertius x. 126; Cicero, De Finibus i. 30; Ar. EN 1172b9-25.

³⁰ Sensual pleasure: Diogenes Laertius x. 142; 6 § xiv (Callicles).

³¹ Virtues: Diogenes Laertius x. 132, 148.

³² Justice: Diogenes Laertius x. 141, 150-1; 4 § vii, 6 § 12. Evolution of society: Lucretius v. 958-61, 988-1027. See 4 § vi, 7 § xiii.

³³ See 7 § 10.

³⁴ Death: Diogenes Laertius x. 124; cf. 125-6, Lucretius iii. 830-68. See Nagel [1979], ch. 1.

³⁵ Virtues: Cicero, De Finibus ii. 69-71.

³⁶ Some Epicureans try to meet the objection about friendship, by claiming that the wise person will find pleasure in the company of his friend, apart from any further instrumental benefits (Cicero, De Finibus i. 65-70). But it is hard to see how, on purely Epicurean grounds, such pleasure can be justified.

³⁷ On Epicureans in politics see 9 § x.

Works Cited

Annas, J., and Barnes, J. [1986] The Modes of Scepticism, Cambridge.

Austin, M. M. [1981] The Hellenistic World, Cambridge.

Barnes, J. Burnyeat, M. F., and Schofield, M., eds. [1980] Doubt and Dogmatism, Oxford.

Barrett, C. K., ed. [1956] The New Testament Background, London.

Furley, D. J. [1967] Two Studies in the Greek Atomists, Princeton.

Jones, A. H. M. [1940] The Greek City, Oxford.

——. [1964] "The Hellenistic Age," Past and Present 27 (1964): 1-22.

Lloyd, G. E. R. [1973] Greek Science after Aristotle, London.

Long, A. A. [1974] Hellenistic Philosophy, London.

Long, A. A. and Sedley, D. N. [1987] The Hellenistic Philosophers, Cambridge.

Nagel, T. [1979] Mortal Questions, Cambridge.

Walbank, F. W. [1981] The Hellenistic World, London.