Profiles in skepticism: Pyrrho
What do we know, really, about the originator of ancient Skepticism?
I have always been fascinated by the notion of skepticism, in all its forms. From the scientific skepticism movement that valiantly counters pseudoscientific claims to the classic “what if an evil demon were to try to deceive me?” skepticism of René Descartes.
I must admit, though, that one kind of skepticism that leaves me very perplexed is—ironically—the original one: Pyrrhonism. Recently I’ve read a provocative essay by Casey Perin (published in chapter 2 of Skepticism: From Antiquity to the Present) which, if anything, has only strengthened my, ahem, skepticism of Pyrrhonism.
We know very little of Pyrrho of Elis’s life, though he lived from approximately 365 BCE to circa 275 BCE. He apparently was a failed painter, and various sources tell us that he followed Alexander the Great during his expedition in India, where he met a strange group of wise men known as gymnosophists, possibly early Buddhists.
Pyrrho did not write anything down, in the style of Socrates and, later on, the Stoic Epictetus. However, his philosophy was passed on in written form by his student, Timon of Phlius (325-235 BCE). Trouble is, Timon’s works are also lost and known only through a commentary by the late first century BCE Aristotelian Aristocles. The latter in turn is known only via fragments preserved by Eusebius (260-340 CE). The bottom line is, if anyone claims they actually know what Pyrrho thought they are greatly exaggerating and comically overstepping the available historical evidence.
To give you a more concrete idea of the problem, here is—in toto—what Aristocles writes about Pyrrho, according to Eusebius (Praeparatio evangelica, 14.18.1-5):
(i) It is necessary above all to consider our own knowledge; for if it is our nature to know nothing, there is no need to inquire any further into things. There were some among the ancients, too, who made this statement, whom Aristotle has argued against. Pyrrho of Elis was also a powerful advocate of such a position.
(ii) He himself has left nothing in writing; his pupil Timon, however, says that the person who is to be happy must look to these three points: first, what are things like by nature? Second, in what way ought we to be disposed toward them? And, finally, what will be the result for those who are so disposed?
(iii) He [Timon] says that he [Pyrrho] reveals that things are equally indistinguishable/indifferent and unmeasurable/unstable and indeterminable/indeterminate;
(iv) For this reason neither our sensations nor our opinions tell the truth or lie.
(v) For this reason, then, we should not trust them, but should be without opinions and without inclinations and without wavering, saying about each single thing that it no more is than is not or both is and is not or neither is nor is not.
(vi) Timon says that the result for those who are so disposed will be first an inability to say anything, but then tranquility; and Aenesidemus says pleasure. These, then, are the main points of what they say.
Let’s discuss. The very first sentence of (i) makes for an excellent beginning. I would agree with Pyrrho / Timon that it’s crucial to inquire into the epistemic limits to human knowledge. If I claim to know X, you are perfectly within your rights to ask me how I know X. And if I don’t give you a reasonable answer you better run away, I may be a sophist.
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