Reading: Ancient Philosophy

We now turn to the first of the ancient philosophers. We will examine a number of them, taking note of their theories of reality and knowledge. I should warn you: they don't have much to say about the nature of knowledge. Instead, they focus primarily on developing a theory of reality, pinpointing the essence of all things. They contemplate what everything is made of and what organizes this substance. They discuss "matter" in the same way we talk about building materials or fabrics. When we refer to material, we're talking about the substance we use to create something. However, they didn't think of matter in the way we do today in terms of atomic, molecular, or quantum theory. They saw it as the essence of all things.

The very first of these thinkers was Thales, who lived around 650 BC. Thales was exceptionally bright. He was the first, as far as we know, to propose theories instead of relying on myths. But the foundational substance he proposed might sound odd to us today: water. Bertrand Russell once quipped that if a professor starts a philosophy course with Thales and shares his theory, the educator will spend the rest of the term trying to regain the students' respect for philosophy. Yet, I believe this respect shouldn't be lost. Thales had a rationale. He observed phenomena like evaporation and deduced from these observations that water was a versatile and foundational substance.

Following Thales was Anaximander. We've encountered his name before, as he was the first to aptly define divine belief: that which originates everything else but has no origin itself. Anaximander believed reality was infinite and took many specific forms before being reabsorbed into the infinite—a perspective resembling certain Hindu beliefs.

Pythagoras is another notable name. He believed that the essence of everything was numerical. In his view, the universe's fabric was woven with numbers and mathematical relationships.

Then there was Heraclitus, who is famously associated with the concept of perpetual change. His proposition was that everything is in constant flux, yet there's an inherent rationality, or "logos," to this change. For him, fire was the essential substance of all things, reflecting the universe's volatile nature.

Anaximenes followed with his proposition that air was the primary substance. He presented arguments, such as the sensation of hot and cold when breathing on one's hand, to support this.

Empedocles combined the theories of his predecessors, suggesting that everything was made of a combination of earth, air, fire, and water. These elements didn't transform into one another but combined in various ways to form the world around us.

Throughout this exploration, the common thread is the philosophers' commitment to theorizing about the nature of reality and knowledge. They were pioneers in the art of hypothesis and argument, paving the way for future philosophical discourse.

Or Melodies was a materialist. He believed that only matter existed in space. However, he struggled with the concept of empty space. He proposed that space was completely filled with matter. This matter might be so finely grained that we look right through it without noticing. Thus, he believed that space was entirely filled, and because of this, there was no change whatsoever.

This view contradicts Heraclitus, who asserted that everything changes. While other philosophers discussed how elements like earth, air, fire, and water combine to form various things, Or Melodies believed that what just is remains static and never changes. He viewed all change and motion as illusions. His famous disciple was Zeno, who provided numerous arguments supporting this view. One such argument, adapted here, is about an arrow in flight:

Imagine an arrow aimed at a target. Before the arrow reaches the target, it must cover half the distance. Before covering that half, it must cover half of that half, and so on, indefinitely. Since there are infinite divisions between the starting point and the target, Zeno argues that the arrow can never reach its destination. This argument seeks to demonstrate the impossibility of motion and supports Or Melodies' view. However, this logic has been debated for centuries.

This discussion highlights a significant divide between the appearances of things and their actual nature. Zeno and Or Melodies challenged the trustworthiness of our senses and emphasized reason as the primary means to understand reality.

An interesting shift in perspective came with the introduction of atomic theory. A philosopher named Leucippus proposed the concept of atoms, meaning "indivisible" in Greek. He believed everything we perceive, like earth, air, fire, and water, is made up of tiny, indivisible atoms. These atoms, when combined in various ways, create what we recognize as different elements. The atomic theory persisted and evolved over time, with figures like Democritus and Epicurus further elaborating on it. Epicurus, for instance, believed in an infinite amount of space filled with an infinite number of atoms. Given enough time, these atoms would form every possible combination, resulting in our present reality.

Next, we encounter the Sophists, individuals who taught philosophy and logic for profit. They trained students, not to seek truth but to become adept lawyers. By learning logical fallacies, these students could manipulate court arguments in their favor. Plato criticized the Sophists, particularly because his mentor, Socrates, was wrongly accused of being one of them and was subsequently sentenced to death.

"Memorize these, so you can trick the jury into voting for your client." Socrates did none of that, Plato says. He never took money in payment, and he never advised anyone to deceive a jury. As far as we can discern from Plato's records, this aligns with the truth. However, we have no independent means of verifying Plato's accounts. The sophists are becoming a notorious group; they travel from town to town, offer lessons, and take money to teach—and often, to manipulate the court system.

By the way, in ancient Athens, a jury was comprised of 413 jurors. This number was chosen because they wanted the majority to be too vast to bribe; to bribe the majority of 413, you'd need to bribe 207 people—a feat no one could afford. Additionally, they wanted an odd number to prevent tied votes. Hence, they settled on 413.

Interestingly, in the U.S., we have 12 people on a jury. This tradition isn't due to any particular logic, but rather because Jesus had 12 disciples. There's nothing inherently magical about the number 12 for a jury. But for ancient Athens, it was 413. And, despite the challenge of getting a conviction, Socrates' accusers did succeed.

This leads me to Protagoras. His perspective offers insight into ancient views on religious belief. Protagoras is renowned for an essay he penned titled "On the Gods." It starts with the line, "Concerning the gods, it is impossible to say whether they exist or don't." This epitomizes the conclusion of the Greek intellectual tradition—searching for the self-existent, attempting to identify the divine essence. Is it earth, air, fire, water, atoms, or a divine intelligence permeating reality? Meanwhile, the traditional gods of their religion were slowly being replaced and neglected.

Contrast this with ancient Israel. Whereas Protagoras concludes with uncertainty about the existence of gods, in Israel, the consensus was evident: "The fool has said in his heart, 'There is no God.'" Israel had a deep-seated conviction of God's presence. They believed God had led them out of captivity, parted the Red Sea, fed them with manna, and established them in Palestine. The temple they built was a testament to their faith, with God residing in its holiest chamber, accessible only to the high priest and only once a year. Their history reinforced their identity as God's chosen people.

This perspective is echoed in the New Testament. When believers speak of their faith, it's not based on blind trust but on experiences deemed self-evident. John Calvin articulates this sentiment, suggesting that scripture, much like the immediate recognition of black and white or sweet and bitter, bears its own evidence. He believes that true faith doesn't arise from logical proofs but from the testimony of the Spirit of God—a spiritual revelation that illuminates the truth of the gospel.

In juxtaposition, the Greek intellectual tradition, despite its brilliance, culminated in ambiguity about the divine, while the religious tradition in Israel anchored its beliefs in tangible experiences and revelations.