ANCIENT SCEPTICISM Richard Bett, Johns Hopkins University I The term “scepticism” has meant a number of different things in the history of Western philosophy. In recent times J.L. Mackie referred to the thesis that there are no objective values as a species of moral scepticism1. For this he was taken to task by, among others, Bernard Williams, who maintained that “Scepticism is basically concerned with doubt, and not necessarily with (the denial of) knowledge”2. But this seems to go wrong in two ways. First, Mackie’s use of the term did not appear to have as its focus an issue about knowledge or its absence; his moral scepticism was, as he said, an ontological thesis, and the reason for calling it a form of scepticism appeared to be, roughly, that it was (as he saw it) a rejection of an important and widely shared everyday belief about the status of ethics. (The arguments for the thesis were in part epistemological in character, but the thesis itself was not.) And second, given the variety of usage in the term historically, it is hard to see that there is anything wrong with this3. Still, it is true that, in modern philosophy, the term “scepticism” has more commonly been used in epistemology than in ethics, referring to positions according to which the possibility of knowledge – concerning the existence of the external world, for example, or of other minds – is denied 1 Mackie 1977, chapter 1. 2 Williams 1985, at 204. 3 The OED gives as one (albeit loose) sense of “sceptic” “an unbeliever in Christianity, an infidel”. If denial of the existence of the Christian God can count as a form of scepticism, why not also denial of the existence of objective values? 2 or put in doubt. Of course, there is also a place where epistemology and ethics intersect, and hence there can also be sceptical theses about the epistemology of moral beliefs4. One thing these observations bring out is that scepticism as it is now understood in philosophy is a piecemeal affair; one can be interested in or inclined towards scepticism on one topic without this interest or inclination being extended to other topics. Scepticism nowadays is, as Julia Annas has put it, “local” as opposed to generalized or global5. In ancient Greek philosophy, however, it was not like this; instead, scepticism was an outlook that extended over all subject-matters – one could not pick and choose what one was going to be sceptical about. Hence there was no such thing as scepticism purely about ethics; scepticism about ethics went along with scepticism about lots of other things, and the route to scepticism was essentially the same regardless of topic. It can also be said, however, that in the ancient context there is an ethical aspect to scepticism as a whole. For ancient scepticism was not something merely to be studied or discussed (as scepticism in contemporary philosophy, whether of an epistemological or a moral variety, often seems to be); it was also something to be put into practice. In this respect scepticism is no different from any other ancient philosophy. Pierre Hadot in particular has emphasized the ancient conception of “philosophy as a way of life”, by contrast with more abstract, theoretical conceptions of the subject that in his view have largely (though not entirely) superseded it, for a variety of reasons, since the middle 4 This is the particular focus of Sinnott-Armstrong 2006. But note also the many non- epistemological varieties of moral scepticism that he introduces in a preliminary classification (chapter 1.3); again, scepticism at least in the area of ethics is not always about either doubt or the denial of knowledge. 5 Annas 1986/1998. This essay remains an extremely valuable point of entry into many of the issues with which my contribution deals. 3 ages6. And as Hadot is well aware, the Greek sceptics were no exception to this general tendency in ancient thought. A philosophy, in this period, is not just a way of life; according to the usual picture, at least, there need to be doctrines underpinning the way of life, and arguments supporting those doctrines. This is why Diogenes Laertius records a disagreement about whether Cynicism, a movement with a highly distinctive life-style, but minimalist in its doctrines and even more so in its use of argument7, should be considered a philosophy at all, as opposed to a (mere) way of life (enstasin biou, 6.103). And that is why the Pyrrhonist sceptic Sextus Empiricus has to give a highly nuanced answer to the question whether scepticism is a hairesis – literally “choice”, but used of philosophical schools (PH 1.16-17); the answer is “no” if a hairesis involves accepting definite beliefs, but “yes” if it simply involves going along, at least provisionally, with an account (logos) that shows how a certain way of life is possible. However, as this passage nicely illustrates, a certain way of life is at any rate a crucial component of the story; a set of arguments and conclusions, or an “account”, that had no consequences for one’s life would simply not count as a philosophy. Ancient Greek scepticism, then, is a comprehensive outlook. It discusses ethical topics, but many other topics besides; and the ways in which it treats ethical topics are fundamentally no different from the ways it treats any other topic. And since the discussion of all these topics is supposed to have a practical effect on one’s life, one may speak of ancient scepticism quite generally as in a sense ethical, regardless of the topics 6 See especially Hadot 1995. For some reservations about Hadot’s thesis – which do not, however, affect the picture I am about to sketch – see Cooper 2007. 7 Or at any rate, arguments in the usual sense. But some of the Cynics’ performances – such as Diogenes’ display of a plucked chicken, in response to Plato’s definition of human being as a featherless biped (DL 6.40) – can be considered arguments of a kind. See Sluiter 2005. 4 under discussion at any given time. All of this is in sharp contrast with how we now tend to see scepticism, ethics, and the intersection between them. Nonetheless, it is in their discussions of ethical topics specifically that the ancient sceptics are most likely to be relevant to contemporary concerns in ethics (including the kinds of scepticism in ethics that I mentioned at the outset). So my survey of the ancient Greek sceptics, while giving some sense of their general orientation, will focus especially on this side of the subject. I will devote the most attention to Sextus Empiricus; as the only Greek sceptic whose writings have survived in bulk, but perhaps for other reasons as well, he is far more philosophically accessible than any of the others. Still, it will be worthwhile to begin with a look at the other important sceptical figures (all of whom preceded him), both for their intrinsic interest and to set the context for Sextus’ work. II The hallmark of ancient Greek scepticism, most generally, is suspension of judgement; one withdraws from definite claims concerning how things really are. The differences among the sceptics have to do largely with how, precisely, this suspension of judgement is conceived, and what consequences, if any, are supposed to result from it. There are two traditions of ancient Greek thought that are now standardly recognized as sceptical: the Pyrrhonists, stemming in some loose sense from Pyrrho of Elis, and, for a certain extended period of its existence, the Academy founded by Plato. The Pyrrhonists were the ones who actually called themselves skeptikoi, “inquirers”. But from antiquity onwards, the Academics in question have generally been seen as having enough in common with them to warrant the label. 5 The thought of Pyrrho himself (c.360-270 BC) is, to put it mildly, difficult to pin down. Only one short text survives that purports to provide a general picture of Pyrrho’s philosophical attitudes, and this is very far from first-hand; it is a summary by the Peripatetic Aristocles (late 1st century BC or early 1st century AD) of an account by Timon, Pyrrho’s most assiduous disciple, itself surviving only as a quotation in the work of Eusebius, the fourth-century bishop of Caesarea (Praeparatio evangelica 14.18.1-5). The passage speaks of ataraxia, freedom from worry, as the outcome, according to Pyrrho, of reflection about the nature of things and about the attitude one should take towards them. Scholarly opinion is sharply divided as to whether Pyrrho’s answer to the question “What is the nature of things?” is “their nature is unknowable” or “their nature is indeterminate” – in other words, whether their true qualities are beyond our cognitive reach or whether, in reality, they have no definite qualities8. But either way, the result is that one should avoid saying or thinking anything about them that would attribute to them any definite qualities. And it is this refraining from definite views or assertions that is said to yield ataraxia. Whatever the precise relation between Pyrrho and the later thinkers that called themselves Pyrrhonists – and this too is a matter of much dispute – it is this connection between a withdrawal from definite claims and the attainment of ataraxia that is the obvious common thread between them; more on this later. Why ceasing to hold such definite opinions should yield ataraxia is not explained in the passage from Aristocles. But a passage in Diogenes Laertius’ life of Pyrrho suggests that prominent among the definite claims that one ceases to make, if one follows the recommended program, are ethical or evaluative ones.