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to embrace the apparent inconsistency and assert that his claim is itself
neither true nor false, but is inarbitrable. The
former option seems preferable insofar as the latter leaves Pyrrho
with no definite assertion whatsoever and it thus becomes unclear how he could
draw the inferences he does from [1] to [2]. On the other hand, we may seek
to avoid these difficulties by interpreting Pyrrho's
first answer as epistemological. After all, the predicates he uses suggest an
epistemological claim is being made. And further, Aristocles
introduces this passage by noting that we must investigate our capacity for
knowledge and he claims that Pyrrho was a spokesman
for the view that we know nothing. Bett [2000] argues
against the epistemological reading on the grounds that it doesn't make good
sense of the passage as it stands. For if we assume the epistemological reading
of [1], that we are unable to determine the natures of things, then it would be pointless to infer from that that [2] our
senses lie. It would make much more sense to reverse the inference: one might
reasonably argue that our senses lie and thus we are unable to determine the
natures of things. Some have proposed emending the text from 'for this reason (dia touto)' to 'on
account of the fact that (dia to)' to
capture this reversal of the inference. But if we read the text as it stands,
we may still explain Aristocles' epistemological
focus by pointing out that if [1] things are indeterminate, then the
epistemological skepticism will be a consequence: things are indeterminable.
Second, in what way ought we to
be disposed towards things? Since things are indeterminate (assuming the
metaphysical reading) then no assertion will be true, but neither will any
assertion be false. So we should not have any opinion about the truth or
falsity of any statement (with the exception perhaps of these meta-level
skeptical assertions). Instead, we should only say and think that something no
more is than is not, or both is and is not, or neither is nor is not, because
in fact that's the way things are. So for example, having accepted [1] (and
assuming the predicative reading of 'is' in [2]), I will no longer believe that
this book is red, but neither will I believe that it is not red. The book is no
more red than not-red, or similarly, it is as much red
as not-red. Third, what will be the result
for those who are so disposed? The first result is speechlessness (literally,
not saying anything)-but this is odd given that we are encouraged to adopt a
form of speech in [2]. Perhaps speechlessness follows after initially
saying only that things are no more this than that, etc.; then finally, freedom
from disturbance follows. Presumably, the recognition that things are no more
to be sought after than not sought after is instrumental in producing
tranquility, for if nothing is intrinsically good or bad, we have no reason to
ever be distressed, or to be exuberantly joyful. But then it seems we would not
be able to even choose one thing over another. Pyrrho's
tranquility thus begins to look like a kind of paralysis and this is probably
what prompted some of the sensational anecdotes. Diogenes notes, however, that
according to Aenesidemus, Pyrrho
exercised foresight in his day-to-day activities, and that he lived to be
ninety (9.62). So it seems his tranquility did not paralyze him after all. This
may be either because Pyrrho (or Timon)
was disingenuous about what he was up to intellectually,
or more charitably because he followed appearances (9.106) without ever
committing himself to the truth or falsity of what appeared. (See 'Sextus on the skeptical life' below for further
discussion).
about Aenesidemus except that he lived sometime in
the 1st Century B.C.E., and that he dedicated one of his written works to a Lucius Tubero, a friend of Cicero's who was also a
member of the Academy. This has led most scholars to suppose that Aenesidemus was a member of the Academy, probably during
the period of Philo's leadership, and that his revival of Pyrrhonian
skepticism was probably a reaction to Philo's tendency towards fallibilism. Although this is plausible, it makes the fact
that Cicero never
mentions him quite puzzling.
survived, but they are summarized by a ninth century Byzantine patriarch, Photius, who is remarkable in his own right. In his Bibliothk (= Bib. ), he summarized 280 books,
including the Pyrrhoneia, apparently from
memory. It is clear from his summary that he thinks very little of Aenesidemus' work. This is due to his view that Aenesidemus' skepticism makes no contribution to Christian
dogma and drives from our minds the instinctive tenets of faith (Bib. 170b39-40).
Nevertheless, a comparison of his summaries with the
original texts that have survived reveal that Photius
is a generally reliable source (Wilson [1994]). So despite his assessment of Aenesidemus' skepticism, the consensus is that he provides
an accurate summary of the Pyrrhoneia. The
proper interpretation of that summary, however, is disputed. Aenesidemus was a member of Plato's Academy, apparently during the
period of Philo's leadership. Growing dissatisfied with what he considered the
dogmatism of the Academy, he sought to revitalize skepticism by moving back to
a purer form inspired by Pyrrho. His specific
complaint against his contemporary Academics was that they confidently affirm
some things, even Stoic beliefs, and
unambiguously deny other things. In other words, the Academics, in Aenesidemus' view, were insufficiently impressed by our
epistemic limitations. His
alternative was to 'determine nothing', not even the claim that he determines
nothing. Instead, the Pyrrhonist says that things are no more one way than
another. This form of speech is ambiguous (in a positive sense, from Aenesidemus' perspective) since it neither denies nor
asserts anything unconditionally. In other words, the Pyrrhonist will only
assert that some property belongs to some object relative to some observer or
relative to some set of circumstances. Thus, he will conditionally affirm some
things but he will absolutely deny that any property belongs to anything in
every possible circumstance. This seems to be what Aenesidemus
meant by 'determining nothing', for his relativized
assertions say nothing definite about the nature of the object in
question. Such statements take the form: it is not the case that X is by nature
F. This is a simple denial that X is always and invariably F, though of course
X may be F in some cases. But such statements are importantly different from
those of the form: X is by nature not-F. For these sorts of statements affirm
that X is invariably not-F and that there can be no cases of X that exhibit the
property F. The only acceptable form of expression for Aenesidemus
then seems to be statements that may sometimes be false (See Woddruff [1988] for this interpretation, also Bett 2000).
The kinds of conclusion that Aenesidemus countenanced as a Pyrrhonist can more clearly
be seen by considering the kinds of arguments he advanced to reach them. He
apparently produced a set of skeptical argument forms, or modes, for the
purpose of refuting dogmatic claims regarding the natures of things. Sextus Empiricus discusses one
such group, the Ten Modes, in some detail (PH 1.35-163, M 7.345,
see also Diogenes Laertius' account of the Ten Modes at 9.79-88, and the
partial account in Philo of Alexandria, On Drunkenness 169-205, and see Annas and Barnes [1985] for detailed and critical
discussion of all ten modes). The
first mode is designed to show that it is not reasonable to suppose that the
way the world appears to us humans is more accurate than the incompatible ways
it appears to other animals. This will force us to suspend judgment on the
question of how these things are by nature, in and of themselves, insofar as we
have no rational grounds on which to prefer our appearances and insofar as we
are not willing to accept that something can have incompatible properties by
nature. If, for example, manure appears repulsive to humans and delightful to
dogs, weare unable to say that it really is, in its
nature, either repulsive or delightful, or both repulsive and delightful. It is
no more delightful than not-delightful, and no more repulsive than
not-repulsive, (again, in its nature). Just
as the world appears in incompatible ways to members of different species, so too
does it appear incompatibly to members of the same species. Thus, the second
mode targets the endless disagreements among dogmatists. But once again, we
will find no rational ground to prefer our own view of things, for if an
interested party makes himself judge, we should be suspicious of the judgment
he reaches, and not accept it. The
third mode continues the line of reasoning developed in the first two. Just as
the world appears in incompatible ways to different people, it also appears
incompatibly to the different senses of one and the same person. So, for
example, painted objects seem to have spatial dimensions that are not revealed
to our sense of touch. Similarly, perfume is pleasant to the nose but
disgusting to the tongue. Thus, perfume is no more pleasant than not-pleasant. The
fourth mode shows that differences in the emotional or physical state of the
perceiver affects his perception of the world. Being in love, calm and warm,
one will experience the cold wind that comes in with his beloved quite
differently than if he is angry and cold. We are unable to adjudicate between
these incompatible experiences of the cold wind because we have no rational
grounds on which to prefer our experience in one set of circumstances to our
experience in another. One might say that we should give preference to the
experiences of those who are healthy, sane and calm as that is our natural
state. But in response, we may employ the second mode to challenge the notion
of a single, healthy condition that is universally applicable. The
fifth mode shows that differences in location and position of an observed
object relative to the observer will greatly affect the way the object appears.
Here we find the oar that appears bent in water, the round tower that appears
square from a distance, and the pigeon's neck that changes color as the pigeon
moves. These features are independent of the observer in a way that the first
four modes are not. But similar to the first four, in each case we are left
without any rational grounds on which to prefer some particular location or
position over another. Why should we suppose, for example, that the pigeon's
neck is really green rather than blue? And if we should propose some proof, or
theory, in support of it being really blue, we will have to face the skeptic's
demand for further justification of that theory, which will set off an infinite
regress. The
sixth mode claims that nothing can be experienced in its simple purity but is
always experienced as mixed together with other things, either internally in
its composition or externally in the medium in which it is perceived. This
being the case, we are unable to ever experience the nature of things, and thus
are unable to ever say what that nature is. The
seventh mode appeals to the way different effects are produced by altering the
quantity and proportions of things. For example, too much wine is debilitating
but the right amount is fortifying. Similarly, a pile of sand appears smooth,
but individual grains appear rough. Thus, we are led to conclude that wine is
no more debilitating than fortifying and sand is no more smooth than rough, in
their natures. The
eighth mode, from relativity, is a paradigm for the whole set of modes. It
seeks to show, in general, that something appears to have the property F only
relative to certain features of the perceiving subject or relative to certain
features of the object. And, once again, insofar as we are unable to prefer one
set of circumstances to another with respect to the nature of the object, we
must suspend judgment about those natures. The
ninth modes points out that the frequency of encountering a thing affects the
way that thing appears to us. If we see something that we believe to be rare it
will appear more valuable. And when we encounter some beautiful thing for the
first time it will seem more beautiful or striking than it appears after we
become familiar with it. Thus, we must conclude, for example, that a diamond is
no more valuable than worthless. Finally,
the tenth mode, which bears on ethics, appeals to differences in customs and
law, and in general, to differences in the ways we evaluate the world. For
some, homosexuality is acceptable and good, and to others it is unacceptable
and bad. In and of itself, homosexuality is neither good nor bad, but only
relative to some way of evaluating the world. And again, since we are unable to
prefer one set of values to another, we are led to the conclusion that we must
suspend judgment, this time with respect to the intrinsic value of things. In
each of these modes, Aenesidemus seems to be
advancing a sort of relativism: we may only say that some object X has property
F relative to some observer or set of circumstances, and not absolutely. Thus
his skepticism is directed exclusively at a version of Essentialism; in this
case, the view that some object has property F in any and every circumstance. A
further question is whether Aenesidemus intends his
attack on Essentialism to be ontological or epistemological. If it is
epistemological, then he is claiming that we simply cannot know what the nature
or essence of some thing is, or even whether it has one. This seems most likely
to have been Aenesidemus' position since Photius' summary begins with the remark that the overall
aim of the Pyrrhoneia is to show that
there is no firm basis for cognition. Similarly, the modes seem to be
exclusively epistemological insofar as they compel us to suspend judgment; they
are clearly designed to force the recognition that no perspective can be
rationally preferred to any other with respect to real natures, or essences. By
contrast, the ontological view that there are no essences,
is not compatible with suspending judgment on the question.
We do not have enough evidence
to determine precisely why Aenesidemus found
inspiration in Pyrrho. One important point, however,
is that they both promote a connection between tranquility and an acceptance of
our epistemic limitations (see Bett [2000] for an
elaboration of this view). Diogenes
Laertius attributes the view to both Anesidemus and the followers of Timon
that as a result of suspending judgment, freedom from disturbance (ataraxia) will follow as a shadow (DL 9.107-8).
Similarly, Photius reports Aenesidemus'
view that those who follow the philosophy of Pyrrho
will be happy, whereas by contrast, the dogmatists will wear themselves out in
futile and ceaseless theorizing (Bib. 169b12-30, LS 71C). Although there
seem to be important differences in what Pyrrho and Aenesidemus understood by our epistemic limitations, they
both promoted tranquility as the goal, or at least end product. In general
terms the idea is clear enough: the way to a happy, tranquil existence is to
live in accordance with how things seem, including especially our evaluative
impressions of the world. Rather than trying to uncover some hidden reality, we
should accept our limitations, operate in accordance with custom and habit, and
not be disturbed by what we cannot know (see Striker [1990/1996]).
We know very little about Sextus Empiricus, aside from the
fact that he was a physician. He may have been alive as early as the 2nd
Century C.E. or as late as the 3rd Century C.E. We cannot be certain as to where
he lived, or where he practiced medicine, or where he taught, if indeed he did
teach. In addition to his philosophical books, he also wrote some medical
treatises (referred to at M 7.202, 1.61) which are no longer extant. There are three philosophical works
that have survived. Two of these works are grouped together under the general
heading, Adversus Mathematikos-which
may be translated as Against the Learned, or Against the Professors, i.e. those
who profess to know something worth teaching. This grouping is potentially
misleading as the first group of six books (chapters, by
current standards) are complete and form a self-contained whole. In fact
Sextus refers to them with the title Skeptical
Treatises. Each of these books target some
specific subject in which people profess to be experts, thus: grammar,
rhetoric, mathematics, geometry, astrology and music. These are referred to as M
1 through 6, respectively. There are five additional books
in the second set grouped under the heading Adversus
