Indifference to eternal life and to eternal value
Epicurus argues that we should not fear death because we won't be there to feel pain. This is an excellent argument against concern for eternal life--if the only thing we desire is pleasure and the only thing we want to avoid is pain. But it might not be such a great argument if humans naturally desire more than that.
And we do.
We desire not just to feel a certain way, but to act a certain way. And the objects of those actions are valued by us not just because of how they affect us, but because of how they relate us to the rest of the world.
Consider the desire to know the truth. Based on my very limited reading of Epicurus, he never seems to talk about the desire for the truth. If he did, then he might quickly see how his philosophy fails to make sense of human life. We desire to know the truth: that much is uncontroversial. But if pleasure is the first and primary measure of what is good, then we desire the truth only instrumentally. I desire truth because of how knowing it will produce pleasure in me. I desire truth instrumentally much in the same way that one might intend to make a chair because one wants to enjoy sitting down. In the case of the chair, the value of the product is inherently divorceable from the productive activity. You can enjoy sitting down without having made the chair. Making may have no intrinsic value. Similarly, an Epicurean who strives for consistency will maintain that we want to know the truth strictly as a means toward the pleasure that it gives. And because the end always has to do with the existence of the one who wants the truth, the end is always as restricted to the here and now as is the existence of the one who wants the truth. For the Epicurean, there is nothing beyond you, the desirer, that calls you to a greater reality than yourself. When it comes to practical reasoning, it's about you. Nothing transcending your limited horizon beckons you.
This account of the desire to know does not conform to our experience: knowing the truth does not seem to be a productive activity in the way making a chair is a productive activity. You can't really make sense out of the relation between knowledge and the emotions or feeling that attend knowing by treating the two as separate events, for they don't happen at different times. You don't know the truth at 1:00pm and feel gratified for having done so at 1:10pm. The positive feeling that may attend "knowing that you know" is not exactly an inner thing that you perceive and it certainly is not something that you could ever have separately from your awareness that you know. In other words, although we may sometimes desire to know some truths instrumentally (i.e., merely as a means toward an end), we also and very importantly desire to know the truth without regarding that knowledge as merely instrumental toward some other thing that we desire. In the latter case, it seems more appropriate to say that we delight in or enjoy knowing the truth rather than knowing the truth produces pleasure in us. It seems better, in other words, not to talk of the satisfaction we get from knowing the truth as if it were a kind of inner object that we perceived ("I feel something good inside of me when I know the truth") but instead to talk and think of it as a kind of activity, as something that we do (that is, of our "enjoying," or "taking delight in" our knowing the truth) and which enhances other activities (such as knowing) by which we direct ourselves toward our environment and toward the whole world.
This correction to Epicurus is important, because, if Epicurus' characterization of our motivation for seeking the truth is correct, then we are always unable to want more than inner perceptual goods or goals, but if my characterization (or rather, the characterization that I have stolen from Aristotle) is correct, then what we desire can include various ways of being related to our environment and to the world about us. We can say that you and I desire to enjoy the very same thing, be it truth or tennis, conversation or justice. Our desire to engage in these activities does not direct us ultimately toward some private feeling--i.e., the inner perceptual object that Epicurus would call "pleasure." Rather, it directs us toward the goods that can be shared and delighted in together with others. Goodness is objective rather than subjective. Take, for example, knowledge of the truth. It is something that we can enjoy together with other truth-lovers, i.e., with other rational beings, regardless of time or place. In fact, the very fact that this is a good that we can share with others makes it even more desirable. In this way, everlasting truths can have an everlasting value. Those who have experienced the desire for everlasting truth can recognize that its everlastingness is part of what makes it attractive. They can recognize that part of what makes us human is this desire for what has everlasting value.
So a reflection on our desire for truth shows us that Epicurus is wrong about desire. You and I are not locked inside a small turtle-shells in which I seek my pleasure and you seek yours. We seek to communicate and share common objects of delight and joy. And a reflection on everlasting truth shows us that we humans seek especially those things which have an unending ability to give delight. We recognize that we especially desire truth because it has an everlasting value.
To the one who understands the human desire for truth in all its fullness, the desire for eternal life is not born of fear of death: it is born from the realization that the good we already enjoy partially is a sign of a greater, good, i.e., our desire to know this or that truth is but a sign of our desire to enjoy that truth--Eternal Truth--that is capable of giving unending delight.
And we do.
We desire not just to feel a certain way, but to act a certain way. And the objects of those actions are valued by us not just because of how they affect us, but because of how they relate us to the rest of the world.
Consider the desire to know the truth. Based on my very limited reading of Epicurus, he never seems to talk about the desire for the truth. If he did, then he might quickly see how his philosophy fails to make sense of human life. We desire to know the truth: that much is uncontroversial. But if pleasure is the first and primary measure of what is good, then we desire the truth only instrumentally. I desire truth because of how knowing it will produce pleasure in me. I desire truth instrumentally much in the same way that one might intend to make a chair because one wants to enjoy sitting down. In the case of the chair, the value of the product is inherently divorceable from the productive activity. You can enjoy sitting down without having made the chair. Making may have no intrinsic value. Similarly, an Epicurean who strives for consistency will maintain that we want to know the truth strictly as a means toward the pleasure that it gives. And because the end always has to do with the existence of the one who wants the truth, the end is always as restricted to the here and now as is the existence of the one who wants the truth. For the Epicurean, there is nothing beyond you, the desirer, that calls you to a greater reality than yourself. When it comes to practical reasoning, it's about you. Nothing transcending your limited horizon beckons you.
This account of the desire to know does not conform to our experience: knowing the truth does not seem to be a productive activity in the way making a chair is a productive activity. You can't really make sense out of the relation between knowledge and the emotions or feeling that attend knowing by treating the two as separate events, for they don't happen at different times. You don't know the truth at 1:00pm and feel gratified for having done so at 1:10pm. The positive feeling that may attend "knowing that you know" is not exactly an inner thing that you perceive and it certainly is not something that you could ever have separately from your awareness that you know. In other words, although we may sometimes desire to know some truths instrumentally (i.e., merely as a means toward an end), we also and very importantly desire to know the truth without regarding that knowledge as merely instrumental toward some other thing that we desire. In the latter case, it seems more appropriate to say that we delight in or enjoy knowing the truth rather than knowing the truth produces pleasure in us. It seems better, in other words, not to talk of the satisfaction we get from knowing the truth as if it were a kind of inner object that we perceived ("I feel something good inside of me when I know the truth") but instead to talk and think of it as a kind of activity, as something that we do (that is, of our "enjoying," or "taking delight in" our knowing the truth) and which enhances other activities (such as knowing) by which we direct ourselves toward our environment and toward the whole world.
This correction to Epicurus is important, because, if Epicurus' characterization of our motivation for seeking the truth is correct, then we are always unable to want more than inner perceptual goods or goals, but if my characterization (or rather, the characterization that I have stolen from Aristotle) is correct, then what we desire can include various ways of being related to our environment and to the world about us. We can say that you and I desire to enjoy the very same thing, be it truth or tennis, conversation or justice. Our desire to engage in these activities does not direct us ultimately toward some private feeling--i.e., the inner perceptual object that Epicurus would call "pleasure." Rather, it directs us toward the goods that can be shared and delighted in together with others. Goodness is objective rather than subjective. Take, for example, knowledge of the truth. It is something that we can enjoy together with other truth-lovers, i.e., with other rational beings, regardless of time or place. In fact, the very fact that this is a good that we can share with others makes it even more desirable. In this way, everlasting truths can have an everlasting value. Those who have experienced the desire for everlasting truth can recognize that its everlastingness is part of what makes it attractive. They can recognize that part of what makes us human is this desire for what has everlasting value.
So a reflection on our desire for truth shows us that Epicurus is wrong about desire. You and I are not locked inside a small turtle-shells in which I seek my pleasure and you seek yours. We seek to communicate and share common objects of delight and joy. And a reflection on everlasting truth shows us that we humans seek especially those things which have an unending ability to give delight. We recognize that we especially desire truth because it has an everlasting value.
To the one who understands the human desire for truth in all its fullness, the desire for eternal life is not born of fear of death: it is born from the realization that the good we already enjoy partially is a sign of a greater, good, i.e., our desire to know this or that truth is but a sign of our desire to enjoy that truth--Eternal Truth--that is capable of giving unending delight.
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