HERACLEITUS

HERACLEITUS

(b. c. 540, Ephesus, Anatolia [now Sel_ƈuk, Turk.]—d. 480 BCE)

Heracleitus was a Greek philosopher known for his cosmology, in which fire forms the basic material principle of an orderly universe. Little is known about his life, and the one book he apparently wrote is lost. His views survive in the short fragments quoted and attributed to him by later authors.

Though primarily concerned with explanations of the world around him, Heracleitus also stressed the need for people to live together in social harmony. He complained that most people failed to comprehend the Logos (Greek: “reason”), the universal principle through which all things are interrelated and all natural events occur, and thus lived like dreamers with a false view of the world. A significant manifestation of the logos, Heracleitus claimed, is the underlying connection between opposites. For example, health and disease define each other. Good and evil, hot and cold, and other opposites are similarly related. In addition, he noted that a single substance may be perceived in varied ways—seawater is both harmful (for human beings) and beneficial (for fishes). His understanding of the relation of opposites to each other enabled him to overcome the chaotic and divergent nature of the world, and he asserted that the world exists as a coherent system in which a change in one direction is ultimately balanced by a corresponding change in another. Between all things there is a hidden connection, so that those that are apparently “tending apart” are actually “being brought together.”

Viewing fire as the essential material uniting all things, Heracleitus wrote that the world order is an “everliving fire kindling in measures and being extinguished in measures.” He extended the manifestations of fire to include not only fuel, flame, and smoke but also the ether in the upper atmosphere. Part of this air, or pure fire, “turns to” ocean, presumably as rain, and part of the ocean turns to earth. Simultaneously, equal masses of earth and sea everywhere are returning to the respective aspects of sea and fire. The resulting dynamic equilibrium maintains an orderly balance in the world. This persistence of unity despite change is illustrated by Heracleitus’ famous analogy of life to a river: “Upon those who step into the same rivers different and ever different waters flow down.” Plato later took this doctrine to mean that all things are in constant flux, regardless of how they appear to the senses.

Heracleitus was unpopular in his time and was frequently scorned by later biographers. His primary contribution lies in his apprehension of the formal unity of the world of experience.

CONFUCIUS

CONFUCIUS

(b. 551, Qufu, state of Lu [now in Shandong province, China]—d.

479 BCE, Lu)

Cconfucius was China’s most famous teacher, philosopher, and political theorist. His ideas have exerted an enormous influence on China and other civilizations of East Asia.

Confucius’s life, in contrast to his tremendous importance, seems starkly undramatic—or, as a Chinese expression has it, “plain and real.”

Although the facts about Confucius’s life are scanty, they do establish a precise time frame and historical context. Confucius was born in the 22nd year of the reign of Duke Xiang of Lu (551 BCE). The traditional claim that he was born on the 27th day of the eighth lunar month has been questioned by historians, but September 28 is still widely observed in East Asia as Confucius’s birthday. It is an official holiday, “Teachers’ Day,” in Taiwan.

Confucius’s family name was Kong and his personal name Qiu, but he is referred to as either Kongzi or Kongfuzi (Master Kong) throughout Chinese history. The adjectival “Confucian,” derived from the Latinized Confucius, is not a meaningful term in Chinese, nor is the term Confucianism, which was coined in Europe as recently as the 18th century.

Confucius’s ancestors were probably members of the aristocracy who had become virtual poverty-stricken commoners by the time of his birth. His father died when Confucius was only three years old. Instructed first by his mother, Confucius then distinguished himself as an indefatigable learner in his teens.

Confucius had served in minor government posts managing stables and keeping books for granaries before he married a woman of similar background when he was

19. It is not known who Confucius’s teachers were, but he made a conscientious effort to fi nd the right masters to teach him, among other things, ritual and music. His mastery of the six arts—ritual, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and arithmetic—and his familiarity with the classical traditions, notably poetry and history, enabled him to start a brilliant  teaching career in his 30s.

 In his late 40s and early 50s Confucius served fi rst as a magistrate, then as an assistant minister of public works, and eventually as minister of justice in the state of  Lu . It is likely that he accompanied King Lu as his chief minister on one of the diplomatic missions. Confucius’s political career was, however, short-lived. At 56, when he realized that his superiors were uninterested in his policies, Confucius left the country in an attempt to fi nd another feudal state to which he could render his service. Despite his political frustration he was accompanied by an expanding circle of students during this self-imposed exile of almost 12 years. His reputation as a man of vision and mission spread. Indeed, Confucius was perceived as the heroic conscience who knew realistically that he might not succeed but, fired by a righteous passion, continuously did the best he could. At the age of 67 he returned home to teach and to preserve his

cherished classical traditions by writing and editing. He died in 479 BCE, at the age of 73. According to the Records of the Historian, 72 of his students mastered the “six arts,” and those who claimed to be his followers numbered 3,000.

Painting of Chinese philosopher Confucius. Hulton Archive/ Getty Images

The Analects

The story of Confucianism does not begin with Confucius. Nor was Confucius the founder of Confucianism in the sense that Buddha was the founder of Buddhism and Christ the founder of Christianity. Rather Confucius considered himself a transmitter who consciously tried to reanimate the old in order to attain the new. He proposed revitalizing the meaning of the past by advocating a ritualized life. Confucius’ love of antiquity was motivated by his strong desire to understand why certain life forms and institutions, such as reverence for ancestors, human-centred religious practices, and mourning ceremonies, had survived for centuries. His journey into the past was a search for roots, which he perceived as grounded in humanity’s deepest needs for belonging and communicating. He had faith in the cumulative power of culture. The fact that traditional ways had lost vitality did not, for him, diminish their potential for regeneration in the future. In fact, Confucius’ sense of history was so strong that he saw himself as a conservationist responsible for the continuity of the cultural values and the social norms that had worked so well for the idealized civilization of the Western Zhou dynasty.

The Lunyu (Analects), the most revered sacred scripture in the Confucian tradition, was probably compiled by the succeeding generations of Confucius’ disciples. Based primarily on the Master’s sayings, preserved in both oral and written transmissions, it captures the Confucian spirit in form and content in the same way that the Platonic dialogues embody the pedagogy of Socrates.

The purpose of compiling these distilled statements centring on Confucius seems not to have been to present an argument or to record an event but to offer an invitation to readers to take part in an ongoing conversation with

the Master.

Confucius’ life as a student and teacher exemplified his idea that education was a ceaseless process of selfrealization. When one of his students reportedly had difficulty describing him, Confucius came to his aid:

“Why did you not simply say something to this effect: he is the sort of man who forgets to eat when he engages himself in vigorous pursuit of learning, who is so full of joy that he forgets his worries, and who does not notice that old age is coming on?”

Confucius was deeply concerned that the culture (wen) he cherished was not being transmitted and that the learning (xue) he propounded was not being taught. His strong sense of mission, however, never interfered with his ability to remember what had been imparted to him, to learn without flagging, and to teach without growing weary.

The community that Confucius created was a scholarly fellowship of like-minded men of different ages and different backgrounds from different states. They were attracted to Confucius because they shared his vision and to varying degrees took part in his mission to bring moral order to an increasingly fragmented world. This mission was difficult and even dangerous. Confucius himself suffered from joblessness, homelessness, starvation, and occasionally life-threatening violence. Yet his faith in the survivability of the culture that he cherished and the workability of the approach to teaching that he propounded was so steadfast that he convinced his followers as well as himself that heaven was on their side.

As a teacher of humanity Confucius stated his ambition in terms of concern for human beings: “To bring comfort to the old, to have trust in friends, and to cherish the young”. Confucius’ vision of the way to develop a moral community began with a holistic reflection on the human condition. Instead of dwelling on abstract speculations such as man’s condition in the state of nature, Confucius sought to understand the actual situation of a given time and to use that as his point of departure. His aim was to restore trust in government and to transform society into a flourishing moral community by cultivating a sense of humanity in politics and society. To achieve that aim, the creation of a scholarly community, the fellowship of junzi (exemplary people), was essential.

The fellowship of junzi as moral vanguards of society, however, did not seek to establish a radically different order. Its mission was to redefine and revitalize those institutions that for centuries were believed to have maintained social solidarity and enabled people to live in harmony and prosperity. An obvious example of such an institution was the family.

It is related in the Analects that Confucius, when asked why he did not take part in government, responded by citing a passage from the ancient Shujing (“Classic of History”), “Simply by being a good son and friendly to his brothers a man can exert an influence upon government!” to show that what a person does in the confines of his home is politically significant. This maxim is based on the Confucian conviction that cultivation of the self is the root of social order and that social order is the basis for political stability and enduring peace.

The assertion that family ethics is politically efficacious must be seen in the context of the Confucian conception of politics as “rectification” (zheng). Rulers should begin by rectifying their own conduct; that is, they are to be examples who govern by moral leadership and exemplary teaching rather than by force. Government’s responsibility is not only to provide food and security but also to educate the people. Law and punishment are the minimum requirements for order; the higher goal of social harmony, however, can only be attained by virtue expressed through ritual performance. To perform rituals, then, is to take part in a communal act to promote mutual understanding.

One of the fundamental Confucian values that ensures the integrity of ritual performance is xiao (filial piety). Indeed, Confucius saw filial piety as the first step toward moral excellence, which he believed lay in the attainment of the cardinal virtue, ren (humanity). To learn to embody the family in the mind and heart is to become able to move beyond self-centredness or, to borrow from modern psychology, to transform the enclosed private ego into an open self. Filial piety, however, does not demand unconditional submissiveness to parental authority but recognition of and reverence for the source of life. The purpose of filial piety, as the ancient Greeks expressed it, is to enable both parent and child to flourish. Confucians see it as an essential way of learning to be human.

Confucius defined the process of becoming human as being able to “discipline yourself and return to ritual.” The dual focus on the transformation of the self (Confucius is said to have freed himself from four things: “opinionatedness, dogmatism, obstinacy, and egoism”) and on social participation enabled Confucius to be loyal (zhong) to himself and considerate (shu) of others. It is easy to understand why the Confucian “golden rule” is “Do not do unto others what you would not want others to do unto you!” Confucius’ legacy, laden with profound ethical implications, is captured by his “plain and real” appreciation that learning to be human is a communal enterprise.

PYTHAGORAS

PYTHAGORAS

 (b.  c. 580, Samos, Ionia [now in Greece]—d.  c. 500  BCE ,

Metapontum, Lucania [now in Italy])

Pythagoras was a Greek philosopher and mathematician. Born in what is modern-day Greece, Pythagoras migrated to southern Italy about 532  BCE , apparently in an effort to escape the merchant and territorial ruler Samos’s tyrannical ways. After he arrived in southern Italy, Pythagoras proceeded to establish his ethical and political academy at Croton (now Crotone, Italy). At this academy, he founded the Pythagorean brotherhood, which, although religious in nature, formulated principles that influenced the thought of Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle. In addition, it contributed to the development of mathematics and Western rational philosophy. Pythagoreans followed a very structured way of life. They believed that the human soul resided in a new human or animal body after a person died.

It is diffi cult to distinguish Pythagoras’s teachings from those of his disciples.

None of his writings have survived, and Pythagoreans invariably supported their doctrines by indiscriminately citing their master’s authority. Pythagoras, however, is generally credited with the theory of the functional signifi cance of  numbers in the objective world and in music. Other discoveries often attributed to him (e.g., the incommensurability of the side and diagonal of a square, and the Pythagorean theorem for right triangles) were probably developed only later by the Pythagorean school. More probably the bulk of the intellectual tradition originating with Pythagoras himself belongs to mystical wisdom rather than to scientifi c

scholarship.

Pythagoras demonstrating his Pythagorean theorem in the sand using a stick. © Photos.com/Jupiterimages

Philosopher

    (INTRODUCTION)

     Life doesn’t come with an instruction manual. Each person is released into the world in the same way, naked and unaware, left to find his or her own way to some sort of understanding about the mysteries of their own existence. Once people grow and learn enough, they naturally start asking questions. How did the world—and universe—come to exist? Why am I here? What is my purpose in life? What happens after I die? People began their search for meaning very early on in the course of human history. The ancient Greeks developed an entire mythology of gods and goddesses to answer many of life’s most fundamental questions.

Yet there were some who were not satisfied with the explanation that every major human event, from birth to death, was dictated by the whims of the gods. Men like Plato (429–347 BCE), Socrates (469–399 BCE), and Aristotle (384–322 BCE) preferred a more rational approach. Long before the age of modern science, they used reason to understand why things happened as they did, and to find some sort of order and security in what was an often chaotic and dangerous world. They questioned, probed, and refused to accept commonly held beliefs. Through their teachings, they became the towering figures of ancient Greek philosophy.

Theories of existence, knowledge, and ethics have been advanced and argued since the time of the ancient Greeks. Travelling through the pages of this book, you will discover the ideas that shaped the history of philosophy, and the men—and women—who gave birth to those ideas. In addition to Plato and Socrates, Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas, René Descartes, Arthur Schopenhauer, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Simone de Beauvoir are just a few of the  philosophic luminaries profiled in this title.

In the simplest terms, philosophy is about thinking. French philosopher René Descartes (1596–1650) defined his entire existence in those terms. “I think, therefore I am,” he famously proclaimed. The concept of a philosopher practicing his craft might bring to mind the famous Auguste Rodin sculpture, The Thinker, which depicts a man with chin on hand in deep contemplation. Yet philosophers do much more than sit around thinking and asking questions. They engage in fundamental discussions about nature, society, science, psychology, and ethics. They develop critical ideas about the way people live, and the way they should live.

There are three major fields of philosophical investigation. The first is ontology, which is the study of existence—what applies neutrally to everything that is real. Some of the earliest philosophers attributed human existence to the natural elements: earth, air, fire, and water. The Greek philosopher Heracleitus (lived around 500 BCE) thought it was fire that was the essential material uniting all things. The opposing forces of igniting and extinguishing fire gave balance and order to an otherwise random and disordered world.

The Greek scholar Democritus (c. 460–c. 370 BCE) found the basis of life in an element of a different kind— the atom. He believed not only that atoms made up everything in the universe, but also that the movement of atoms was responsible for every change or event that occurred (he had unknowingly discovered the foundation of modern physics). Democritus assumed that because atoms cannot be created or destroyed, nothing (and no one) can die in the absolute sense.

Other philosophers have claimed that the basis of all things is not elements, but mathematics. Pythagoras (c. 570–c. 490 BCE), familiar to high school math students for the theorem of right triangles (a² + b² = c²) that’s associated with his name, surmised that numbers gave an underlying harmony and order to everything in existence.

When it came to answering the question of existence, philosophy and religion often overlap. Some philosophers believed firmly in the religious ideal of God as the creator of all things. They have even used philosophy to prove the existence of God. The Archb ishop St. Anselm of Canterbury (1033–1109 CE) argued that God must exist because it is impossible for humans to conceive of the greatest possible being as not existing. St. Augustine (354– 430 CE) claimed that it is only through the contemplation of, and connection with, God that humans can find real

happiness.

Other thinkers used philosophy for the opposite purpose—to dispute the ideas of religion and God. Danish philosopher and theologian Søren Kierkegaard (1813–1855) believed that the highest task of human existence was to become oneself in an ethical and religious sense. In part, he called faith irrational, and said people should take personal responsibility for their own destinies rather than simply follow the flock.

Philosophy and religion also have many differences of opinion when it comes to another theme in the search for the origins of human existence—the soul. Some religious belief holds that the body is just a container of sorts, which temporarily holds the essence of a person, which is deemed his or her soul. After death (if the person has behaved well in life), the soul supposedly goes on to a better place, which the Judeo-Christian religion has termed “heaven.” Philosophers have had their own conceptions of the soul’s purpose and journey. Plato saw it as immortal, while Baruch Spinoza (1632–1677) said that once the body died, the soul was gone too. French Existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre (1905–1980) held that there is no God, and therefore human beings were not designed for any particular purpose. The only thing that truly exists, he said, is the way things appear to us, or our perception of things.

The second field of philosophical investigation, epistemology, involves the study of knowledge—how we know what we know. It might seem as though people who sit around thinking all the time would know a great deal. However, the more philosophers pondered, the more they realized how little they actually understood. This led to questioning about the very origins of knowledge.

Socrates was a firm believer that people didn’t know as much as they claimed they did. He was masterful at putting his students on the spot. Socrates’ technique, called the Socratic method, was to ask his students a question, such as “What is knowledge?” or “What is virtue?” Then he would proceed to poke holes in their responses until they questioned their own understanding of the topic. In one conversation captured in Plato’s Republic, Socrates relentlessly challenged the dramatist Agathon over the ideas of desire and love, until Agathon finally conceded his position, saying, “It turns out, Socrates, I didn’t know what I was talking about in that speech.”

How we obtain knowledge also has been the subject of some debate among philosophers. While Plato believed that people are born with some knowledge of an ideal reality (and it is the philosophers’ job to show them how to live in accordance with that reality), John Locke (1632– 1704) felt that babies are merely blank slates, waiting to be filled with the knowledge gained from experience and observation. Francis Bacon (1561–1626) agreed with the importance of observation. In fact, he suggested that every philosopher who had come before him had been wrong by focusing on words rather than on experimentation. Bacon’s empirical approach to knowledge formed the foundation of the modern scientific method.

Yet there were some philosophers who questioned the validity of observation, arguing that people couldn’t always trust their senses. Pyrrhon of Elis (360—270 BCE) and his fellow Skeptics believed that truth is unknowable, therefore nothing is as it seems. If we can’t trust what we see, hear, smell, and feel, how can we be sure of anything? What we think we are experiencing in life might be nothing more than a dream.

The final of these three fields of investigation is ethics, also known as the study of values, or put simply, deciding what is right and what is wrong. The fundamental nature of humankind has long challenged the great philosophers. Are people born inherently good, evil, or somewhere in between? Is human nature predetermined by a supernatural being or self-directed? These ethical questions are crucial to systems of government and justice, determining the way people should live together in society, and when and how punishment should be meted out to those who don’t follow what is considered the “right” way to behave.

The Scottish philosopher David Hume (1711–1776) said that good and evil can be derived from pleasure or pain. People’s actions are not morally good or evil. It’s how they are perceived that makes them that way. So if someone commits murder, the act itself has no significance other than that society views it as evil. German Existentialist Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900), who felt the idea of morality was something invented by the “herd” (society, community, family, the church), said people should throw out the ideas of good and evil as mere conventions, and instead create their own individual value systems.

Some philosophers, among them a member of the French Enlightenment named Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778), felt that human nature is inherently good, but people become corrupted when they stifle their natural desires to fit within the confines of society’s rules and order.

This repression is what ultimately leads to bad behaviour.

Are there ultimate rewards for following the rules, and punishments for failing to behave according to society’s dictates? In the Judeo-Christian tradition, heaven awaits those who are “good,” while hell lies below to capture those who are “bad.” In Indian religion and philosophy, the idea of karma dictates that every action people take— good or bad—will determine what happens to them down the road. According to this idea, if you help an old woman cross the road, supposedly good things will be coming your way, either in this lifetime or the next (reincarnation is part of this belief). Steal money from a friend, and you might be coming back in the next life as a dung beetle.

The ideas of right and wrong extend to the political systems that govern people, and the way in which they should be ruled. Philosophers such as Niccolo Machiavelli (1469–1527) felt that people are inherently weak, and therefore need strong, even despotic leaders who rule by fear and intimidation. (The term “Machiavellian” has come to refer to unscrupulous or deceptive behaviours.) In contrast to these ideas are the teachings of Chinese philosopher Confucius (551–479 BCE), who believed that those in power should treat their subjects kindly in order to earn their respect.

These and the other great thinkers whose lives and beliefs are detailed in these pages have helped give shape and depth to human existence. And yet philosophy is a constantly evolving science. Just as some questions are addressed, new questions emerge. Expect the list of influential philosophers to grow over the years as people continue to probe and wonder about the great mysteries of the universe and human existence.

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