BİLİM ve FELSEFEDEN DERLEMELER

Mucize uydurma uzmanları, birçok konunun ilk kez Kur’anda yazıldığını, ondan önce hiç bilinmediğini iddia ederler. Yağmuru, rüzgarı, arıyı, böceği dahi Kur’an’a malederler. Bu başlıkta Antik çağ filozof ve bilim adamlarının derlemelerine yer vereceğiz. İlki Galileo’nun Buyruğu kitabından:

LUCRETİUS- Atomların Kalıcılığı ve Evrenin Yapısı

Titus Lucretius Carus (MÖ yaklaşık 94-50) kendisinden 250 yıl önce yaşamış olan Yunanlı filozof Epikuros’un atom kuramını açıklayan lirik bir şiir yazmıştır. (MÖ yaklaşık 60) Bu olağanüstü bir başarıydı. Bilim konusunda bir akıl yürütme ilk defa şiir dizelerinde bu denli mükemmel ortaya konuyordu. Atomlardan oluşan bir dünya görüşü pek değişmeden 1900’lere kadar yerini korudu. Bütün maddelerin bölünemeyen en küçük parçacıklardan oluştuğunu savunan bu görüş Einstein öncesinin temel maddeci görüşüydü.Aşağıdaki şiirde Lucretius, klasik fiziğin temel öğretisi olan, maddenin yoktan yaratılamayacağı ve yok edilemeyeceği iddiasını dile getirmektedir. Lucretius’un bu denli ustalıkla ifade ettiği öğreti o devirden bu yana değişim geçirerek şu şekli almıştır: Madde enerjiye, enerji de maddeye dönüşebildiği halde, varolan toplam madde ve enerji ne arttırılabilir ne de azaltılabilir.

Birinci ilkemiz şu olacak konuya girerken:
Hiçten hiçbir şey yaratılamaz tanrısal güçle
Ölümlülerin bunca korkuya kapılmaları
Yerde ve gökte tanık oldukları olaylara
Gözle görülür bir neden bulamamalarındandır
Kolaydır tanrının istemiyle açıklamak bunları
Hiçten bir şey yaratılamayacağını kavrayınca
Daha açık seçik göreceğiz önümüzdeki yolu
Nasıl oluştuğunu ve var olduğunu
Bir kere yoktan yaratılsaydı varlıklar,
Her tür, her kaynaktan doğardı; tohum olmazdı
İnsan denizden çıkardı, pullu balık topraktan
Ve kuşlar gökten türerlerdi durup dururken.
Sürüler, kuytularda üreyen yabanıl hayvanlar,
Ekili ya da çorak toprakları doldururlardı.
Aynı ağaçlarda bitmezdi hep aynı yemişler,
Elbet değişirlerdi, her ağaç her yemişi verirdi.
Kendine özgü doğurgan gövdelerden oluşmasaydı
Neden hep varlık doğsundu aynı tür anadan?
İmdi, her varlık özel tohumundan oluştuğundan
Ancak uygun dokunun, uygun atomların bulunduğu
Yerden doğar güneş-ışıklı dünyaya.
Bu yüzden her şey rasgele doğamaz her şeyden,
Özel gücü özündedir doğumunu hazırlayan.

Neden baharda açar gül,ekin olgunlaşır yazın?
Ve üzüm neden büyüsüne kapılır güzün?
Özel tohumları elverişli anda toparlanmayınca
Ortaya çıkıp, varlıklar gelişmeseydi,
Dirim başlayan toprak en uygun mevsimde,
Onları korunmasız sürer miydi ışıklı dünyaya?
Hiçlikten doğsalardı, zaman gözetmeden
Olmadık aylarda ürerlerdi elbet, ansızın;
Mevsimlerin hışmıyla doğurgan bileşimleri önlenen
İlksel gövdeleri olmadığından.

Dahası, serpilmeleri de belli bir süreyle
Belirlenemezdi, tohumun birikimi için gereken.
Bebekler birdenbire büyüyüverir,
Ağaçlar dilenildiğinde bitiverirdi topraktan.
Ama öyle değil doğanın yasası biliyoruz.
Doğada usul usul gelişir varlık,
Kendine özgü yapıyı taşıyarak tohumundan,
Kendine özgü maddesiyle çoğalır ve beslenir,
Dahası da var: çıkagelmezse mevsim sağanakları,
Veremez yüzgüldürenekini toprak
Besinsiz kalınca da üreyemez hayvanlar
Ve sürdüremezler dirimlerini.
Atomları yadsıyan kuramın tersine,
Ortaktır çoğu öğeler varlıkların genelinde,
Tıpkı ayrı sözcüklerdeki harfler gibi.

Düşünelim: Neden öylesine kocaman yaratmamış doğa
Ki yürüyerek geçememiş insanlar okyanusu?
Elleriyle devirememişler dağları,
Ve sürdürememişler yaşamlarını kuşaklar boyu?
Çünkü varlık, doğumu için özel doku ister
Kendi yapısının niteliğini belirleyen,
Demek ki hiçbirşey oluşamaz hiçlikten,
Çünkü her varlık, dayanıksız havaya çıkmadan,
Kendi özel tohumundan döllenmelidir.

Son olarak görüyoruz ki işlenmemişten
Daha yetkindir işlenmiş topraklar ve
Emeğin değdiği yer, tatlı yemişlerden geçilmez.
Çünkü öyle tohumlar gizlidir ki toprakta
-sabanla alt üst ettiğimizde-
uyarırız verimliliklerini onların. Yoksa
çabamıza gereksinmeden ulaşırlardı yetkinliğe.

İkinci ilke: kurucu atomlarına ayırır bileşikleri doğa
Ve hiçbir şeyi indirgemez hiçliğe.
Öğeler yok edilir nitelikte olsalardı
Yitip giderdi nesneler de birdenbire;
Bağlantıları koparmak ayırmak için parçaları
Güç harcamaya bile gerek kalmazdı. Ne ki,
Yok edilmez tohumlardan elde edildiğinden her şey,
Hiç birinin yitmesine göz yummaz doğa;
Çatlaklardan içeri sızıp çözüştüren
Ya da bir vuruşta yıkan bir güç olmadıkça.

Öz dokuları tükenen varlıklar, yeryüzünden
Silinebilseydi hepten, hangi kaynaktan türetirdi
Venüs, bunca çeşit canlıyı?
Nasıl
Sürerdi yaşam ışığına? Kendisine döndüklerinde
Nasıl bulurdu her keresinde toprak, türlerinin
Gelişmesi için gerekıen besinleri?
Nereden tazelenirdi deniz, ona kavuşan ırmak?
Esir nereden beslerdi yıldızları?
Zamanın uzun dilimi, karanlık geçmiş, elbet
Tüketebilirdi ölümlü gövdeleri, oysa
Sonsuz geçmişte, evreni durmaksızın yenileyen
Gövdeler süregelmişse, demek ölümsüzdür onlar;
Hiçbir varlık hiçliğe indirgenemez o zaman.

THALES – Evrendeki sudan Kuyudaki suya

Thales, MÖ 624 ila 545 yılları arasında yaşamıştır. Muhammed hazretlerinin Allah’ın kelamı diye yazdığı kitapta, Nisa/ 11-12 ayetlerinde bildirdiği miras paylaşımındaki basit oran hesabında yaptığı hata, daha sonra halife Ömer’in avliye-reddiye yöntemiyle düzeltilmişken; Thales, Muhammed hazretlerinden 1200 yıl önce Matematik alanında çığırlar açmış birisidir.

Sokrates öncesi dönemde yaşamış olan Anadolu’lu bir filozoftur. İlk filozof olduğu için Felsefenin ve bilimin öncüsü olarak adlandırılır. Eski Yunan’ın Yedi Bilgelerinin ilkidir. Elimize ulaşmış hiçbir metni yoktur. Yaşadığı döneme ait kaynaklarda da adına rastlanamaz ancak hakkındaki bilgiler Herodot ve Diogenes Laertios gibi antik yazarlardan edinilir. Bertrand Russell’e göre Felsefe Thales’le başlamıştır.

Eski dinler dünyayı sürü sürü tanrılar ve gizli güçlerle dolu bir yer haline sokmuşlardı. Thales, buna duyduğu tepki sonucu, yalın bir açıklama biçimi aradı. Böylece birci öğretisini kurdu. Bunun sayesinde evrenin tümünü hem ilk, hem evrensel, hem plastik bir elemanın değişinimleriyle açıkladı. Bu eleman su idi. Su, yaşamın temeliydi. Hayvanların tohumu sıvıydı. Besinler özsu haline indirgeniyordu. Fakat su yalnız başına yaşamın kaynağı değildi. Maddenin temeliydi. Su buharlaşınca havayı üretiyor, hava ateşi yaşatıyordu. Ateşten oluşan gökcisimleri, buna göre suyun bir yoğunlaşmasından ileri gelmekteydi. Gerçekten de yeni oluşan toprak her gün nehirlerin ağızlarında birikmekteydi. Bu gözlemler Thales’i evrenin tutarlı bir tanımına götürür; Evren tümüyle sudan oluşmaktadır. Bizim bildiğimiz dünya muazzam bir hava kabarcığından oluşmakta ve bu su niteliğindeki evrenin içinde yer almış bulunmaktadır. Tüm bu varlıklar, tanrıların keyiflerine göre değil de değişmez kanunlar uyarınca yönetilir ve Thales bunları, çok güçlü bir zorunluluk diye adlandırır.

Aristoteles’e göre Thales’in bu düşüncesi suyun, dünyadaki bütün hayat biçimlerine özsel olduğu gözleminden gelmiştir. Suyun katı, sıvı ve buhar hali olduğunu düşünürsek, Thales’in kuramı akıllıca bir deneme gibi görünmektedir. Her ne kadar hatalı olsa da, bu fikir tarihte kayıtlı ilk bilimsel hipotezdir, Thales büyük bir indirgemede bulunuyordu. İster metaller, ister dağlar, ister gazlar, isterse insanlar olsun dünyadaki bütün nesnelerin özellikleri tek bir nesnenin özelliklerine indirgenebilir. Yani eğer şeyleri yeterince öğütürseniz, yeterince küçük parçalar ayırır ve yeterince yakından incelerseniz, onların ne demir, ne taş ne de et olduğunu, fakat sudan ibaret olduğunu görürsünüz.

Eski Yunan bilginlerinden Kallimakhos’un aktardığı bir düşünceye göre denizcilere kuzey takım yıldızlarından Büyükayı yerine Küçükayı’ya bakarak yön bulmalarını öğütlemiştir. Aynı zamanda Mısırlılardan geometriyi öğrenip Yunanlılara tanıtmıştır. Bulduğu bazı geometri teoremleri şunlardır:

• Çap çemberi iki eşit parçaya böler.
• Bir ikizkenar üçgenin taban açıları birbirine eşittir.
• İki doğrunun kesişme noktasındaki ters açılar birbirine eşittir.
• Köşesi çember üzerinde olan ve çapı gören açı,dik açıdır.
• Tabanı ve buna komşu iki açısı verilen üçgen çizilebilir.

Thales’ten yüzyıllarca önce Sümer-Babil gökbilimcilerinin güneş ve ay tutulmaları hakkında bilgi sahibi olduğu bilinir. Thales MÖ. 585 yılında bir güneş tutulması olacağını gününü vererek bildirmiş ama ciddiye alınmamış. O gün geldiğinde Mede ve Lidya orduları savaş meydanında kapışmak üzereydiler. Ortalık kararınca şaşırıp durakaldılar. Güneş’in tutulmasını Tanrıların bir uyarısı olarak yorumladılar ve düşmanlıklarına bir son vererek barış imzaladılar. Thales’in bu başarısını şansla yorumlayanlar olduğu gibi, 18 yıl önce Mısır’da güneş tutulmasına rastladığını ve buradan hesaplayarak yeni tutulmayı tahmin edebildiği de söylenir. Tarihçi Aestus’a göre ise güneş ve ay tutulmalarının nedenini ilk olarak o göstermiştir.Topraksı nitelikteki ay, doğru çizgi üzerinde güneşin altında yer alınca, tutulma olayı meydana gelmektedir. Thales, ayrıca yılın süresini 365 gün olarak saptamış: güneşin (yaptığı devrin 720′de birine eşit olan) çapını ölçmüş; ekvatorun, dönencelerin ve kutup dairesinin varolduklarını bilmiştir. Bunun yanında ayın ışığının, güneşin aydınlığını yansıtmasından ileri geldiğini de söylemiştir.

Aristoteles’e göre yoksulluğundan dolayı ayıplanan Thales, filozofların isterlerse zengin olabileceklerini de kanıtlar. Kış günü olmasına rağmen o yazın bereketli geçeceğini öne sürer. Sonra da Miletus’taki bütün zeytin basmaklarını muhtemelen birinden borç alarak satın almış ve hasat umduğu gibi çıkınca büyük bir servet yapmıştır.

Platon, Thales’in bir gün yıldızları inceleyerek yürürken kuyuya düşüşüne dair bir hikaye anlatır. Güzel bir hizmetçi kız filozofun çığlıklarını duyup kuyudan çıkmasına yardım etmiştir; fakat Thales’e “” Daha sen bastığın yeri bile göremezken,nasıl olur da gökyüzünde olup bitenleri görebilirsin?” diye alay etmeyi de ihmal etmemiştir. Thales her zaman aval aval gökyüzüne bakarak dolaşan bir adam olmadığı, kuyuların düşülmeyecek ölçüde dar olduğu ve çevresinin çemberle yükseltilmiş olduğu bilgisinden hareketle bu hikayenin asılsız olduğu düşüncesi hakimdir.

Thales, aynı zamanda iyi bir siyasetçidir. Örneğin, İonya’nın Yunan kent-devletlerinin yöneticilerine; genişlemeci düşmanları Lidya’dan kurtulmanın tek yolu olarak siyasi bir birlik kurmalarını ve tek meclis çatısı altında birleşmelerini önermiştir. Bu bir konfederasyon düşüncesiydi ve tarihte bir ilkti. Yetkililer onu dinlemese de, aradan geçen bir asır onun önerisinin çok yerinde olduğunu kanıtlamıştır.

Günlerden bir gün Thales’e: Gel de bir mucize gösterelim sana, derler.Onu alıp dağın tepesindeki bir çoban kulübesine götürürler. Orada bir kısrağın doğurduğu aykırı bir yaratığı gösterirler: Başı, boynu, elleri bir çocuğun ki gibidir, bedeninin geri kalanı ise bir atınki gibidir. Oraya gidip de bu hali görenler başlarını çevirirler: “Böylesi bir mucize büyük felaketlerin habercisidir, tanrıların gazabını hemen yatıştırmak gerek”diye bağrışırlar. Ama Thales hiç istifini bozmaz, kısrağın sahibini bir kenara çeker. Gülümseyerek : “Sen istersen ötekilerin dediklerini yap. Ama benden sana öğüt: Kısraklarını bundan sonra bu denli genç çobanlara emanet etme.Ya da kadın bul onlara!” Kuşkusuz uydurma olan bu öykünün, Thales’in Yunan düşüncesindeki rolünü ve yerini bir imge ile çok iyi anlatmak gibi bir yanı vardır: O bu işte tanrıların eli olduğunu düşünmek yerine, sorunun akılcı bir açıklamasını yapmağa çalışmaktadır. Bu açıklamanın yanlış olmasının bir önemi yoktur. Önemli olan anormal bir olay karşısında doğaüstü güçler aramak yerine bilimsel nedenler aramaya yönelmektir.

Thales, Mısır’a gittiğinde tanrı Amon’un başrahibiyle ve firavun Amasis’le birlikte Büyük Piramid’i seyrediyormuş. Başrahip hükümdarının huzurunda bir yabancıyı güç duruma düşüreceğini düşünerek pek sevinmiş: “Bilin bakalım, bu piramidin yüksekliği ne kadar?” diye sorarak meydan okumuş. Thales asasını alıp tam piramidin gölgesinin bittiği yerde kumun içine dikmiş. Bunu yaptıktan sonra asayı, asanın gölgesinin uzunluğunu ölçmüş. Sonra bir taş parçasının üzerine yaptığı basit bir hesap işlemi, anıtın yüksekliğini meydana çıkarmış, 280 dirsek. Firavun bu bu hesaba çok şaşırmış.

Böylece Thales kendi adını taşıyan teoremi yani geometrik orantılar ilkesini bulmuş. Bu ilkeye göre Pareleller homolog orantılı doğru parçalarını iki sekant üzerinde keserler. Piramidin durumunda paraleller güneşin ışınlarıydı. Sekantlar ise sırasıyla asadan ve piramidin yüksekliğinden geçen çekül doğrultularıydı. Eldeki dört veriden ilk üçü (asanın gölgesi, piramidin gölgesi, asanın yüksekliği) bilinmekteydi: Orantıların sırrı sayesinde dördüncüsü de kolaylıkla bulunabildi.

Thales başka durumlarda da beceri göstermeyi bilmiş bu da onun zaman zaman ve yanlışlıkla,” mühendis” olduğu kanısını uyandırmıştır Ayrıntıları iyice bilinmeyen koşullar yüzünden Krezüs, her zamanki düşmanları olan Medyalılara savaş açmış,Thales de onun genel karargahına gitmiştir. Ordu, suları kabaran Halys nehrinin kıyısına gelince durmak zorunda kalmıştır. Ama Thales bu soruna bir çözüm bulacaktır; Bulduğu yöntem çok ustacadır. Orduya ırmağın kıyısında kamp kurdurur, sonra nehrin yatağını değiştirmek üzere, kampın ardında bir kanal kazdırır .Son set de açılınca sular yeni yatağa dolar, dolayısıyla ordunun gerisinden akıp gider,ordu da ayaklarını bile ıslatmaksızın eski nehir yatağından karşı kıyıya geçer.

Bir tartışma sırasında :Ölümün yaşamdan hiçbir farkı yoktur” der.Tartışanlardan biri sorar: Neye yaşamı seçtin öyleyse? Thales’in yanıtı şudur: İkisi arasında hiçbir fark yoktu da ondan.Yine onun bilgece yanıtlarını dinleyelim:

- En eski olan nedir?
” Tanrı’dır ,başlangıcı yoktur çünkü”
- Ya en güzel şey?
” Dünya, Tanrı’nın işidir o çünkü “
- Ya en büyük şey?
” Uzay, herşeyi içerir çünkü”
- Ya en hızlı şey?
” Düşünce, her yere atılır çünkü”
- Ya en güçlü şey?
” Zorunluluk, herşeye boyun eğdirir çünkü”
- Ya en bilge şey?
” Zaman, herşeyi öğrenip meydana çıkarır çünkü”
- Ya en yaygın şey?
” Umut, hiç bir şeyi olmayan kimselerde bile kalır çünkü”
- Ya en yararlı şey?
” Erdem, herşeyi iyi kullandırır çünkü”
- Ya en zararlı şey?
” Kötülük, herşeyi bozar çünkü”

En güç şeyin kendini tanımak, en kolay şeyin başkasına öğüt vermek, az görülen şeyin zorba bir hükümdarın yaşlanmışı, mutsuzluğa kolayca katlanmanın çaresinin daha mutsuz düşmanlarının hallerine bakmak, erdemle yaşamanın çaresinin başkalarında görüp ayıpladığımız şeyleri yapmamak olduğunu söylemiş, mutlu olmanın sağlıklı, varlıklı ve yürekli olmaktan geçtiğini, güzelliğin fiziksel değil, karakter güzelliği olduğunu da eklemiş.

Thales’in birçok peygamberden çok daha fazlasını bildiğini, söylediğini görmekteyiz. Bir filozofun isterse zengin olabileceğini kanıtlamış. İsteseydi büyük bir peygamber olacağını da kanıtlayabilirdi mutlaka. Ama filozofları peygamberlerden ayıran en önemli fark, bilimcilikleri ve karakteristik yapılarıdır.

THALES’IN ÖLÜMÜ

Sizler, doksan koloni kuran
Miletoslu gemiciler,
açın yüreklerinizi,
susun ve dinleyin,
sizler,
ün salmış kişileri
bütün Akdeniz’ in!
Sarılın küreklere,
hemen düşün yola
ve bütün yelkenler fora!
Biriniz önce Sinop’ a
ordan da Pantikapaion’ a,
ikinciniz İtalya’ ya,
Sibaris ve Sirakusa’ ya,
üçüncünüz çevirsin rotayı dosdoğru Mısır’ a,
Nil Deltası’nda kurduğumuz
Naukratis’ te oturan
dostlarımıza!
Vermek için tümüne
acı haberimizi:
Dört gün önce yitirdik
büyük Thales’imizi…
Ve siz tüccarlar,
kentimizle yalnız mal değil,
kültür alışverişi de yapan,
bizler gibi doğruya
ve gerçeğe tapan
doğunun saygın kişileri!
Sürün kervanlarınızı
dağlarla kaplı derinliklerine
Anadolu’ nun,
yılmadan güçlüklerinden
hiçbir yolun,
ister Fırat ve Dicle üzerinden,
ister kıyıdan atlı ya da yaya varmak için
Pers Kralı’ nın
oturduğu başkent Susa’ ya!
Bildirin ordaki dostlarımıza
acı haberimizi:
Dört gün önce yitirdik
büyük Thales’imizi…
Zeytinin bol olacağını
daha kışın gören,
güneşin tutulacağı günü
çok önceden bilen,
gölgesinden piramidin
yüksekliğini ölçen büyük matematikçi,
astronom ve fizikçi,
derin filozof
ve yeryüzünün
en bilge kişisi
Thales’imizi yitirdik.
O öldü, yakıldı ve gömüldü,
biz ise irkildik.
Yas tutarak tam üç gün
onu dün sessiz dillerimiz,
titreyen ellerimiz
ve dik başlarımızın
üstünde taşıyarak
Miletos’ un en yüksek tepesinde
yığdığımız odunların üstüne yatırdık.
Saygıyla bütün bedenini yağladık,
güzel kokular ve çiçeklerle bezedik
sonra karşısında
el bağladık
ve uzun uzun ağladık.
Çıkan alevlerle ününü
yıldızlara yolladık,
arta kalan külünü
bir vazoda topladık
ve Lade Adası’nın açıklarındaki
en derin mavi sularına bıraktık
uçsuz bucaksız Ege’ nin
geri vererek onu
ilk neden dediği
o tanrısal SU’ ya.
her şeyin çıkıp da
yine geri döndüğü
yaşam saçan kaynağa…
Anası Fenikeli,
babası Karyalı’ydı,
ama o,
Miletos yurttaşı,
İyonya diliyle okur yazar,
tam bir İyonya’lıydı.
İşte bu açıdan kentimiz
Ephesos’ la birlikte
Helen dünyasında tektir,
insanların birleşmesine,
kültürlerin kaynaşmasına
en güzel örnektir.
Örneğin
Atina ve Sparta’ da gördüğümüz
hep ilkel,
savaşçı ve ırkçı olan
bir sosyal yapıdır,
ama Miletos’ taki
gelişmiş, barışçı
ve dört yönde
bütün ırklara açık
evrensel bir kapıdır.
Evet,
kadınlarımız
Atina’ da güzellikleriyle ünlü,
ama çoğu,
onların erkeklerinden
daha kültürlü.
Ustamız öldü ama,
insanlarımız bilgiye doyamıyor
susuzluğa, kanamadı, kanamaz!
Kurduğumuz uygarlık kapısı
hergün daha çok açılıyor,
hiç kapanmadı, kapanamaz!
İşte,
daha bugünden
duyuluyor adımlarının sesi,
ak mermerli sokaklarında Miletos’un
ak giysiler içinde yürüyen Anaximandros’un,
götürerek yanında
- şaşkın gözleri,
kesik nefesi
coşkuyla kendini dinleyen, derin düşünceli,
pırıl pırıl genç Anaximenes’ i.
Ölçercesine evrenin
başını ve sonunu anlatıyor ona
sonsuzluk kavramı âpeiron’u.
Ama öğrencisi,
Thales’i bile aşmak istercesine,
ilk neden SU’yun yerine
daha canlı neden HAVA’ yı koyuyor
ve kafasında gerçeğin dibini oyuyor:
“Doğa ölü durumların değil,
canlı süreçlerin
canlı birlik içinde
toplamıdır,
nicelikteki
seyrelme ve yoğunlaşmadan
hep yeni nitelikler
oluşur”
diyor.
Ve böylece Miletos’ ta
ulu bir güneşin sönüşünden
iki ulu güneş birden doğuyor,
ve ilk felsefe okulu
İyonya’ da kuruluyor.
Ustamızı çok sevdik,
ama onu aşacağız,
bilgiyle dolup taşıp
hep gerçeğe koşacağız.
Ey, korku tanımaz denizciler,
en içten başarı dileklerimiz size,
açılın gemilerinizle
Ak- ve Karadeniz’ e!
Ama yelkenleriniz
kara değil, ak olsun!
İyonya’dan
fışkıran
kültür ışınlarından
yüreklere yas ve tasa değil,
doğa sevgisi
ve yaşam sevinci dolsun!
Hiç yenilmeden güçlüklere
yayılsın durmadan her yere
yedi bilgenin
en bilgesi
Thales’imizin felsefesi,
Miletos’ ta doğan
ve dipsiz dinsel inançların
karanlığını
ışığıyla boğan
aklın yüce melodisi
ve onu yaratan
doğanın derin armonisi!

Dinçer Yıldız

HİPOKRAT Andı’ndan çorbaya düşen sineğin kanadına

Mikroplar, bakteriler, bulaşıcı hastalıklar ve hastalıkların tedavisi ile ilaçlar konusunda 7. yüzyılda yazılmış Kur’an’da tek kelime geçmez. Hadislerde de erken dönem İslam’ında hastalıklarla ilgili konularda bir bilgiye ve uygulamaya rastlanmaz, bulaşıcı hastalığın reddedildiği görülür. Çorba kasesine düşen sineğin zarar vermemesi için diğer kanadının da çorbaya batırılması hadisi ise ilginçtir.Tıbbın, biyolojinin tarihçesine baktığımızda ise İslam’dan binlerce yıl önce büyük gelişmelere şahit oluruz.

Eski Mısırlılar döneminde (MÖ. 3400-2450), yağmur sularını toplamak ve lağım sularını akıtmak için kanallar, arklar ve borular yapılmıştır. Eski krallık devresinde başlayan bu tür çalışmalara yeni krallıklar döneminde de (MÖ. 1580-1200) devam edildiğine rastlanılmaktadır. Bu tarihlerde bazı sağlık kurallarının konulduğu ve bunlara titizlikle uyulduğu papirüslerden anlaşılmaktadır. En eski papirüs olan Kuhn papirüs ‘ünde (MÖ. 1900) köpeklerdeki paraziter hastalıklardan ve muhtemelen, sığırlardaki sığır vebasından bahsedilmektedir. Bunların sağaltımı için hayvanların kendi hallerine bırakılması ve tütsü edilmeleri önerilmektedir. Smith papirüs ‘ünde (MÖ.1700) yaraların sağaltımında taze etin, ve hemorajilerde koterizasyonun kullanılabileceğine dair bilgiler bulunmaktadır. Bu papirus, o devirlere ait bazı önemli tıbbi bilgiler de vermektedir. Heredot ‘un eserlerinde, Mısırlıların tuzu antiseptik olarak kullandıkları belirtilmektedir.

Babil döneminde (MÖ. 768-626), sağlık kurallarına dikkat edildiği, hastalıkları önlemek ve sağaltmak için bazı ilaçların kullanıldığı, bu konulara değinen 800′den fazla tabletten anlaşılmaktadır.

Hindularda büyük kral Asoka (MÖ. 269-232) zamanında hayvan hastanelerinin kurulduğu ve tarihi yazılarda tedavi ile ilişkili bazı bilgilerin bulunduğu açıklanmıştır. Hindistan ve Seylan’da MS. 368′de, hastanelerin kurulduğu belirtilmektedir. Sustrata (MS. 500) doğal ve doğa üstü olarak 120 hastalık bildirilmiştir. Bu dönemde, malaryanın sinekler tarafından bulaştırıldığı bilinmekte ve farelerin de vebadan öldüklerinde evlerin terk edilmesi gereğine dikkat çekilmektedir. Sustrata, bunların yanısıra, çocuk bakım ve hijyenine ait bilgiler de vermektedir. Sacteya adlı sanskritte de insanları çiçeğe karşı aşılamada kullanılan yöntemler bildirilmektedir.

Eski Çin Medeniyeti (MÖ. 3000-2000) döneminde yazılan “Materia Medika” adlı kitapta kan dolaşımına ait bilgiler verilmekte, dolaşımın kanın kontrolünde yapıldığı, kanın sürekli ve günde bir defa dolaştığı bildirilmektedir. Ayrıca, kitapta, akupunktur ve nabız hakkında da bazı bilgilere yer verilmiştir. Bu dönemde, Çin’de frengi, gonore ve çiçek hastalıkları bilinmekte ve bunlara karşı bazı önlemlerin de alınmakta olduğu belirtilmektedir. Milattan Sonra 2. asırda haşhaşın ağrı kesici olarak kullanıldığı da zannedilmektedir. Wong Too (MS. 752), insan ve hayvanlarda rastlanılan hastalıklar ve bunların sağaltım yöntemlerini “Dış Alemlerin Sırları” adlı eserinde 40 bölümlük bir yazıda toplamıştır. Konfüçyüs (MÖ. 571-479) döneminde kuduzun tanındığı ve bazı önlemlerin alındığı bilinmektedir. Eski Çin döneminde, hastalıkların nedeni olarak, erkek ve olumsuz unsur olan Yang ile dişi ve olumlu öğe olan Yu ‘nun arasındaki düzenin bozulmasına bağlanmaktadır.

Eski Yunan’da MÖ. 1850-1400 yıllarında bazı sağlık kurallarının konulduğu, ventilasyona dikkat edildiği, ark ve kanalların açıldığı, mabetlerin ve yerleşim yerlerinin kaynak su ve ağaçlık yerlerde kurulmasına özen gösterildiği anlaşılmaktadır. Tıp ve biyoloji ile ilgili olarak yazımızda ele alacağımız örnek kişi, tababet ve tedavinin kurucusu ve tıbbın babası sayılan Hipokrat olacak.

Hipokrat (Hippocrates) İsa’dan önce 460 yılında bugün Yunanistan’a bağlı olan Kos adasında doğmuştur. Hekim Heraklides’in oğludur. Yaşadığı dönem san’atçı ve entellektüellerin ilk kez gerçeği aradıkları zamanlar olan Yunan döneminin altın çağıdır.
Dönemindeki inanışın aksine hastalıkların olağanüstü güçlerden ve tanrıların gazabından kaynaklandığına inanmamış, her hastalığının fiziksel ve gerçekçi bir açıklaması olduğunu düşünmüştür. Çalışmalarını gözlemler üzerine oturtmuş, tıbbı bilim ve san’at haline getirmiştir.

Hipokrat, zatürree ve çocuklardaki sara hastalığının belirtilerini ilk tanımlayan hekimdir. Yine düşünce ve duyguların kalpten değil, beyinden kaynaklandığı bilgisini ortaya koyan ilk kişidir.

Halk sağlığı ve hastalıkları konusunda 7 cilt kitap yazmış ve bunlarda sıtma, lekeli humma, çiçek, veba, sara ve akciğer veremine ait bilgilere yer vermiştir. Tıp alanına deneysel yöntem, gözlem ve araştırma prensiplerini getirmiş olan Hipokrat, hastalıkları vücüdun vital sıvılarındaki bozukluklara bağlamış ve hastalıkları akut, kronik, epidemik ve endemik olarak sınıflandırmıştır. Ayrıca, yaraların sağaltımında kaynatılmış su ile irrigasyonu, operatörlerinin ellerini ve tırnaklarını temizlemelerini, yaraların etrafına bazı ilaçların sürülmesi gerektiğini de vurgulamıştır. Bilgin, hastalıkların topraktan çıkan fena hava ile su, yıldız, rüzgarların yönü ve mevsimlerin etkisiyle oluştuğuna da inanmıştır (miasmatik teori). Hipokrat, aynı zamanda, 4 element (ateş, hava, su, toprak), 4 kalite (sıcak, soğuk, nem, kuru) ve vücudun 4 sıvısı (kan, mukus, sarı safra, siyah safra) üzerinde de bilgiler vermiş, bunları ve birbirleri ile olan ilişkilerini açıklayan görüşler getirmiştir. Senenin çeşitli mevsimlerinde ısının ve nemin değişmesinin hastalıkların çıkışında önemli rol oynadığını da savunmuştur.

San’atını icra etmek üzere tüm Yunanistan’ı dolaşmış, Kos adasında bir tıp okulu kurup düşüncelerini öğretmiştir. Öğretisi genelde etik (ahlaki değerler) ağırlıklıdır. Bu etik boyut, Hipokrat andında da açıkça görülmektedir.

Bilimsel tıbbın kurucusu olan büyük hekim MÖ 377 yılında ölmüştür. Yetmişi bulan çalışmaları daha sonra kitap haline getirilmiş ve 18.yüzyıla kadar tıpta klasik kitap olarak 20 asırdan uzun bir süre kullanılmıştır.

2400 yıldan beri mesleğe adım atan tüm hekimlerin değişik şekillerini okuduğu Hipokrat Yemini; sanılanın aksine Hipokrat’ın bizzat kendisi tarafından değil, büyük olasılıkla oğlu veya öğrencilerinden biri tarafından İsa’dan önce 5. yüzyılda yazıya dökülmüştür.

HİPOKRAT ANDI

Hekim Apollon Aesculapions, hygia panacea ve bütün Tanrı ve Tanrıçalar adına.
And içerim, onları tanık ve şahit tutarım ki, bu andımı ve verdiğim sözü gücüm kuvvetim yettiği kadar yerine getireceğim.
Bu san’atta hocamı, babam gibi tanıyacağım, rızkımı onunla paylaşacağım. Paraya ihtiyacı olursa kesemi onunla bölüşeceğim. Öğrenmek istedikleri takdirde onun çocuklarına bu san’atı bir ücret veya senet almaksızın öğreteceğim.
Reçetelerin örneklerini, ağızdan bilgileri şifahi malumatı ve başka dersleri evlatlarıma, hocamın çocuklarına ve hekim andı içenlere öğreteceğim. Bunlardan başka bir kimseye öğretmeyeceğim.
Gücüm yettiği kadar tedavimi hiç bir vakit kötülük için değil yardım için kullanacağım.
Benden ağı (zehir) isteyene onu vermeyeceğim gibi, böyle bir hareket tarzını bile tavsiye etmeyeceğim.
Bunun gibi bir gebe kadına çocuk düşürmesi için ilaç vermeyeceğim. Fakat hayatımı, san’atımı tertemiz bir şekilde kullanacağım.
Bıçağımı mesanesinde taş olan muzdariplerde bile kullanmayacağım. Bunun için yerimi ehline terk edeceğim.
Hangi eve girersem gireyim, hastaya yardım için gireceğim. Kasıtlı olan bütün kötülüklerden kaçınacağım.
İster hür ister köle olsun, erkek ve kadınların vücudunu kötüye kullanmaktan sakınacağım. Gerek san’atımın icrası sırasında, gerek san’atımın dışında insanlarla ilişkideyken etrafımda olup bitenleri, görüp işittiklerimi bir sır olarak saklayacağım ve kimseye açmayacağım.
Bu andımı tuttuğum sürece, hayatım ve san’atımın icraası bana mutluluk versin, tüm insanlar tarafından her zaman saygı göreyim, eğer yeminimden dönersem bunun zıddı bana az gelsin.

Serdar Kaangil

Portrait of Francis Bacon, Viscount St. Alban, by John Vanderbank (ca. 1731), after a portrait by an unknown artist (ca. 1618)

“The quarrels, and divisions for Religion, were evils unknown to the Heathen: and no marvel; for it is the true God that is the jealous God; and the gods of the Heathen were good fellows. But yet the bonds of religious unity, are so to be strengthened, as the bonds of humane society be not dissolved. Lucretius the Poet, when he beheld the act of Agamemnon, enduring and assisting at the sacrifice of his daughter, concludes with this verse:

Tanta relligio potuit suadare malorum.†

But what would he have done, if he had known the massacre of France, or the powder treason of England? Certainly he would have been seven times more Epicure and Atheist than he was.”

—Francis Bacon, “Of Religion” (Essays, 1612)

† “There are so many other religions from which one might choose.”

Many people who read Harry Potter, particularly certain Christians, have what C. S. Lewis calls a “problem of belief.” It may not be as violent as described in my last entry, but perhaps they disagree with certain ethical implications or are worried that the books incite dangerous magical practices. Or they point out that God seems to be left out of the picture.

To this, C. S. Lewis would reply that in good reading there ought to be no “problem of belief.” A true lover of literature should be in one way like an honest examiner, who is prepared to give the highest marks to the telling, felicitous and well-documented exposition of views he dissents from or even abominates.

Writes Lewis: “I read Lucretius and Dante at a time when (by and large) I agreed with Lucretius. I have read them since I came (by and large) to agree with Dante. I cannot find that this has much altered my experience, or at all altered my evaluation of, of either.”

C. S. Lewis even warned against what he termed the “Vigilant School of Criticism.” To them (and I am afraid a number of Christians are among them) criticism is a form of social and ethical hygiene. They see all clear thinking, all sense of reality, and all fineness of living, threatened on every side by propaganda, by advertisements, by film and television. The hosts of Midian “prowl and prowl around,” and they prowl very dangerously in the printed word.

Against this the Vigilant School are our watchdogs or detectives. Vigilants, finding in every turn of expression the symptom of attitudes which it is a matter of life and death to accept or resist, do not allow themselves the liberty of “free play.” Nothing is for them a matter of taste. They admit no such realm of experience as the aesthetic. There is for them no specifically literary good. A work, or a single passage, cannot for them be good in any sense unless it is good simply, unless it reveals attitudes which are essential elements in the good life.

C. S. Lewis, even though he was a committed and outspoken Christian, most definitely did not belong to this Vigilant School of Criticism.

Theologian N.T. Wright thinks about Charles Darwin in the light of Lucretius, Epicurianism, and 18th century Deism:

The Poetry of Lucretius’ Invitation to Accept “Mater Rebus Certa”

In lines 188-198 of the first book of De Rerum Natura, Lucretius describes the implications of there being a “semine certo”, a definite seed for every kind of thing, that each thing has “sua … materia.” His particular concerns in this passage are: that the developement of things from their seed is gradual (188-90), that they need constant nurture to survive and germinate (192-5), and that such a constant nurture maintains for them their constant (or gradually developing) nature (190). Things have their “principiis” (198), their first beginnings, ever present within them; every stage of their development is part of a process from, yet without leaving behind, their origin of life, their “materia” (191), the mother-substance from which they are continually in the process of being born i.e. “natura” (194). Lucretius invites his prospective student to take comfort in this constant mother-presence which grounds the stable nature of the cosmos in an uninterrupted chain of organic causes (196-7). The calming words of Lucretius thus sound within a mother’s womb that the uncanny can never enter (198) – a womb that one never exits, it is also a tomb (202-4). But it is a tomb so homely and familiar that death is no longer something to be feared, but, rather, its dissolution is only one more stage of a seed’s natural development.

We see already that Lucretius’ philosophical and scientific explication of the cosmos is poetically conceived and animated on its deepest levels – as much (or maybe more so) a matter of pregnant image as it is one of compelling argument: “ut noscere possis”(190), “so that you can become acquainted with,” “recognize” a reality. On every level, then, Lucretius’ verse seeks to reflect and participate in the “natura”, the organic genesis, the poesis that animates the cosmos— the recognition of it itself partaking of that “natura”. Thus his metre slows into a string of spondees as he describes the little-by-little increase of all things: “paulatim crescunt, ut par est …” (189); and the next line repeats the verb, unfolding it in its participial form and drawing its action out into an even more continuous presence (again intoning with the slow spondee): “crescentesque genus servant,” “and increasing they maintain their kind” (190). The complex of phrases – “semine”, “crescentes”, “de materia gradescere alique” (188-191) – is highly suggestive of embryonic growth in the womb.

In the next line, “certis imbribus anni” is a relevant periphrasis for spring or “the rainy season” – the point here is to draw attention to the assurance that would comes with accepting the “certis” (192); if things come to be what they are from a definite relation to intimately present causes and conditions, then that same definite relation will be there to continue support their existence. In this way, we can see a definite relation between the rains and the harvest, the harvest and the “natura” of animal life (192-5): from none of these can that “natura” be cut off, “secreta” (194); all together they constitute its unbroken umbilical cord. On the other hand the interruption of this definite relation of causes by divine intervention anywhere along its line would show the entire cosmos radically indeterminate, irrational, and just as likely to be reconstituted in some other, unknown way. The tie with our nourishing oringins would be cut and leave us floating in a terrifyingly undetermined reality: “sine principiis ullam rem existere posse” (198).

Rather than accept such a prospect, Lucretius proposes a brilliant simile for us, offering us “the letters we see in words” (197). They are of definite kinds; they are familiar and friendly to us; they can be combined in such was as to express all kinds of different meanings. They have this expressive power precisely because they never lose their fixed nature. Like the invisible “corpora prima” of things, they tend to slip by us unnoticed as we read words and sentences; yet all the while the act of reading remains entirely dependent on the fixed relation of words to their “elementa”, the letters. Without this fixed relation, a text becomes nonsense, but within its sustaining matrix an entire world can come to life. Once again it is the image that Lucretius gives that is tantalizing; he draws us in by appealing to a familiar, yet profound, human experience, giving it new sharpness and casting it in an unexpected light. As poet then, Lucretius’ invitations to the reader have value beyond a proposed thesis and faulty argument: they describe and challenge us to acknowledge aspects of our reality that constantly slip away from our attention.

The Passage in Question

… quorum nil fieri manifestum est, omnia quando
paulatim crescunt, ut par est semine certo,
crescentesque genus servant; ut noscere possis 190
quidque sua de materia grandescere alique.
Huc accedit uti sine certis imbribus anni
laetificos nequeat fetus summittere tellus
nec porro secreta cibo natura animantum
propagare genus possit vitamque tueri; 195
ut potius multis communia corpora rebus
multa putes esse, ut verbis elementa videmus,
quam sine principiis ullam rem existere posse.

My Translation

… none of these things, clearly, come to pass, since everything
increases little by little, as is fitting, from a definite seed
and, increasing, maintains its kind, so that you can recognize
how each thing is nourished and grows large from its own materia.
and furthermore, without the fixed showers of the year
earth could not rear up from below her still-generating yield,
and, further, cut off from food, the natura of breathing things
could not propagate its kind or guard its life.
So that you would do much better to suppose that there are a variety of primary bodies
held in common by the whole variety things, as we see letters held by words,
than to think that, without first things, anything whatsoever can exist.

A quote for the day:

Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
– The Roman poet Lucretius (98-55 BCE)

The Japanese Garden, Washington Park, Portland, Oregon USA

Here’s a nice line from Lucretius in his De Rerum Natura:

For fools always have a greater admiration and liking for any idea that they see obscured in a mist of paradoxical language, and adopt as true what suceeds in prettily tickling their ears and is painted with a specious sound. (Book 1: 640.2-4)

The target is Heraclitus, but it made me chuckle for a few reasons. Not least in the context of “bloggery.” Or in the context of Mikhail’s recent post about philosophy as a written or oral medium. In the comments to that post, I think there was talk to the effect that if Derrida didn’t feel the need to publish everything he wrote, we’d be better off.

Anyway, the passage made me chuckle (out loud no less) this morning.  That’s good.

Oh, yes.  And there is the bit in which Lucretius refers to Heraclitus’ “unitarianism” as nothing less than “harebrained lunacy.”  We’re far too thin-skinned to talk like this today, I would imagine.  Though I do seem to remember someone telling me that Catherine Pickstock once referred to theology in America as a “vast wasteland.”  Not that such things really concern me, but nice, indeed.

Lucretius’ Transformation of Venus in Book I: 1-61 of De Rerum Natura

Book I of De Rerum Natura begins with an invocation to Venus: “Aeneadum genetrix, hominum divumque voluptas,/ alma Venus” (1-2). With this opening phrase Lucretius introduces us to the unprecedented combinations of his poetry, combinations operative throughout the opening passage of the poem. By calling Venus “Aeneadae genetrix” Lucretius both accepts a mythic inheritance and returns it to his reader strangely transformed. The phrase focuses our attention on the overwhelming nearness of Aphrodite to Anchises that produced Aeneas, and seeks to extend the brilliance and force of that strange and momentary relationship of the human and divine – “hominum divumque voluptas” – over the begetting of each of the Aeneadae. But, by an odd sort of logic, the poet’s extending her particular role in the birth of Aeneas over the births of men in general, Venus herself, the brilliant, dissembling, shame-faced goddess who shines in the Homeric hymn is allowed to recede farther from our sphere. The intimacy of Aphrodite’s union with Anchises is evoked mutedly here only to release her from it into the more general and metaphorical motherhood that befits the respectful distance Lucretius grants the gods. By “pluralizing” this union, this highest pleasure of men and gods – “hominum divumque,” Lucretius prepares us to let that “and” assume a more disjunctive and subdued force, in contrast to the conjoining violence at the meeting-point of gods and men which is the center of the Homeric cosmos.

The influence of this “alma Venus” is developed further: “quae mare navigerum, quae terras frugiferentis/ concelebras” (3-4). The compound adjectives “navigerum” and “frugiferentis” characterize her presence as slowly and patiently disposing the elements to their fullest and most fruitful combination, not elated or torn by momentary passion, but filled to the brim by an extended and pacifying “voluptas” which frees the seas for peaceful exchange and the lands for plentiful harvest. At the same time the compounds crafted by the poet by which he characterizes earth and sea imitate the fruitful process of combination over which the goddess presides; and thus gently prepare us to see Venus as his “sociam. . . scribendis versibus” (24). Under her calming influence the inner potential of things for flourishing is brought forth from below (6-7), and earth and sea are transformed by one “diffuso lumine caelum”–a light in which they become expressively responsive – “rident aequora ponti” (8), “species patefactast” (10) – and open to new and continuing development – “generatim saecla propagent” (20).

All of this provides a frame for what is perhaps the most surprising development of all: that Lucretius should seek Venus’ help in disposing a young warrior for the pursuit of natural philosophy! that her presence should contribute to providing for the “offspring of Memmius” the “vacuas auris aminumque sagacem” of a studious disciple (50). Yet this poetic victory is entirely consonant with the image of the goddess that Lucretius invokes, whose influence disposes the developing potential of each thing for its fullest possible embrace of, and interchange with, the calm and harmonious nature of things. These reflections further suggest to this reader that lines 44-49, though surprising, are anything but out of place in the wider arc of the passage, and are elided only to its impoverishment. But that thesis would perhaps require an argument of its own.

Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite

Lucretius in Latin

Lucretius (the passage under discussion) in translation

And finally, when raindrops are cast down from Father Sky

Into the lap of Mother Earth, they vanish from the eye,

But gleaming crops rise up, and trees put forth green leaves and

shoots,

And the trees begin to grow, and weigh their branches down

with fruits,

And so we in our turn are nourished, and so the wild brutes -

Hence we see happy cities all abloom with girls and boys,

And the trills of fledgling birds fill up the leafing woods with

noise,

And herds and flocks, made sluggish with their fat, lay down

their bulk

In rich pastures, their heavy udders oozing with white milk,

And lambs go frolicking across young grass on wobbly legs -

Their new-born noggins tipsy on milk drunk straight from the

kegs!

Thus things that seem to perish utterly, do not. See how

Nature refashions one thing from another, and won’t allow

A birth unless it’s midwived by another’s death.

(page 10-11)

Three Philosofuckal Poets by George Santayana

One of the world’s most renowned and profuckative thinkers discusses Lucretius, the materialist; Dante, the supernaturalist; and Goethe, the romanticist; and thereby introduces the three dominant systems of Western philosofuck—the sources of our major speculative tradition. This beautifully written work serves the newcomer to the history of philosofuck as an admirable introduction to the field, and for the more advanced reader it is a most concise and meaningfuck interpretation of these three great philosofuckal poets.

I think I just experienced it. I was going to post part two of my essay… but it’s temporarily interrupted by a moment of complete enlightenment.

I’ve been working my way through “The Black Swan” by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Of any books to completely transform my mind in a while, I think this one is doing the job. I’ve read many of Karl Popper’s books, and familiar with his scepticism. But Popper isn’t affecting me like Taleb’s visual description of the mathematics. And ultimately, I think in pictures, not mathematical equations. This is probably why I do 3d art, and wasn’t too interested in becoming a mathematician.

For all my reasoning ability, I came to this in a completely illogical manner. I credit the impression of that swan on the cover of the book, putting that swerving image in my brain. And then I started to imagine Mediocristan and Extremistan, as Taleb amusingly calls the bell curve equation, in his talk when I was surfing YouTube and ended up on ForaTV. (watch the whole speech here.) And then a day later, snap. I saw the swerve of Lucretius unbidden in my mind as I picked up the book to continue reading it. The swerve of unforeseen events that human agency needs to be able to react to.

I’ve talked to friends of mine about Lucretius’ atomic swerve for years, and the free will question. Like others, I don’t think Lucretius was concerned about libertarian notions about free will, and I completely discard the absurd notion that Epicurus or Lucretius had any idea of modern quantum theory. I think Epicurus was concerned about human agency, and I think his own words bear me out. This was a central theme in Tim O’Keefe’s book Epicurus on Freedom. However, the book concentrates more on the atomic theory, and gives short attention to what the swerve is supposed to explain. But, Epicurus is on hand with a key quotation from his magnum opus “On Nature”, which only exists in fragments today due to a Black Swan: Vesuvius erupting and burying the Villa dei Papiri in Herculaneum.

If it weren’t for a Black Swan, I’d not be reading Epicurus’ words on the subject at all. How fitting.

Anyway, on page 83 of O’Keefe’s book. What was Epicurus concerned about? Well, I’ll sit here and quote one of the fragments of On Nature. (David Sedley is the translator, I’ll have to go and look this up on Sedley and Long’s Hellenistic Philosophers later on… sorry for rambling)

I’ve taken it upon myself to break up the “wallotext” problem by grouping the conversation where it has lacuna breaks in text, for readability.

From the very outset we always have seeds, some directing us towards these, some towards those, some towards these and those, actions and thoughts and characters, in greater and smaller numbers. Consequently that which we develop – characteristics of this or that kind – depends on us at some time absolutely, and the things which of necessity flow in through our passages and depend upon beliefs of our own making. If against the nature (lacuna) …

by which we never cease to be affected, the fact that we rebuke, oppose, and reform each other as if the responsibility lay also in ourselves, and not just in our original constitution, and in the accidental necessity of that which surrounds and penetrates us. For if someone were to attribute to the very processes of rebuking and being rebuked the accidental necessity of whatever happens to be present to oneself at the time, I am afraid that he can never in this way understand his own behavior in continuing the debate … (lacuna) …

He may simply choose to maintain his thesis while in practice continuing to blame or praise. But if he were to act in this way he would be leaving intact the very same behavior which as far as our own selves are concerned creates the preconception of our own responsibility. And we would understand that the theory was altered. … (lacuna)

such error. For this sort of account is self-refuting, and can never prove that everything is of the kind called “of necessity”; but he debates this very question on the assumption that his opponent is himself responsible for talking nonsense. And even if he goes on to infinity saying that this action of his is in turn of necessity, always appealing to arguments, he is not reasoning it empirically so long as he goes on imputing to himself the responsibility for having reasoned correctly and to his opponent that for having reasoned incorrectly. But unless he were to stop attributing his actions to himself and to pin it on necessity instead, he would not even be consistent … (lacuna) …

On the other hand, if in using the word “necessity” of that which we say arises from us ourselves he is merely changing a name, and wont prove that we have a preconception of a kind which has faulty delineations when we call what’s from ourselves responsible, neither his own behaviour nor that of others will be affected. … (lacuna)…

but even to call necessitation empty as a result of your claim. If someone won’t explain this, and has no auxiliary element or impulse in us which he might dissuade from those actions which we perform, calling the responsibility for them “what’s from us ourselves” but is giving the name of foolish necessity to all the things which we claim to do calling the responsibility for them “whats from us ourselves”, he will be merely be changing a name; he will not be modifying any of our actions in the way in which in some cases the man who sees what sort of actions are of necessity regularly dissuades those who desire to do something in the face of compulsion. And the mind will be inquisitive to learn what sort of action it should then consider that one to be which we perform in some way because of us ourselves but without desiring to. For he has no alternative but to say what sort of action is of necessity. <and what is not…> … lacuna …

supremely unthinkable. But unless someone perversely maintains this, or makes it clear what fact he is rebutting or introducting, it is merely a word that is being changed, so I keep repeating.

The first men to give a satisfactory account of causes, men not only much greater than their predecessors but also, many times over, than their successors, turned a blind eye to themselves – although in many matters they had alleviated great ills – in order to hold necessity and accident responsible for everything. Indeed, the actual account promoting this view came to grief when it left the great man blind to the fact that in his actions he was clashing with his doctrine; and that if it were not that a certain blindness to the doctrine took hold of him while acting he would constantly perplexing himself; and that wherever the doctrine prevailed he would be falling into desperate calamities, while wherever it did not he would be filled with conflict because of the contradiction between his actions and his doctrine. It is because this is so that the need also arises to explain the matter which I was discussing when I first embarked on this digression, lest some similar evil befall us.

From Tim O’Keefe’s commentary:

This passage may be usefully divided into three sections. First is a description of our responsibility for our own development. next is the central self-refutation argument against those who deny that we are responsible for our own development and actions, instead saying that everything occurs “of necessity”. Third, Epicurus considers a possible reply to the self-refutation argument. The end of the passage makes it clear that Democritus is one of the targets of the preceding arguments.

and O’Keefe’s conclusion of the meaning of Epicurus, which I completely agree with.

The central theme that runs throughout passages A-C, then, is not a stand against causal determinism or reductionism – it is a commitment to reason. Reason sets us apart from wild animals. Reason allows us to shape our own characters. Reason is the key to our practices of praise and blame, since these practices only make sense on the presupposition that people can respond to argument and reasons.

I think the swerve is better explained as a bell curve stochastic process than anything esoteric. Stochastic processes can look like swerves. And I think their observation of things like Brownian motion had something to do with that idea, and Brownian motion is poetically described by Lucretius.

edit: I’ve revised this. I don’t think its a bell curve anymore. I think it’s a stochastic process.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stochastic_process

This is looking more and more like what kind it is.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Levy_skew_alpha-stable_distribution

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fat_tail

More links on Brownian motion out of Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wiener_process

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brownian_motion

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fractional_Brownian_motion

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geometric_Brownian_motion

From Lucretius: Book II .112

Of this fact there is, I recall, an image and similitude always moving and present before our eyes. Do but apply your scrutiny whenever the sun’s rays are let in and pour their light through a dark room: you will see many minute particles mingling in many ways throughout the void in the light itself of the rays, and as it were in everlasting conflict struggling, fighting, battling in troops without any pause, driven about with frequent meetings and partings, so that you may conjecture from this what it is for the first-beginnings of things to be ever tossed about in the great void. So far as it goes, a small thing may give an analogy of great things, and show the tracks of knowledge.

Even more for another reason it is proper that you give attention to these bodies which are seen to be in turmoil within the sun’s rays, because such turmoil indicates that there are secret and unseen motions also hidden in matter. For there you will see how many things set in motion by unseen blows change their course and beaten back return back again, now this way, now that way, in all directions. You may be sure that all take their restlessness from first beginnings. For first the first beginnings of things move of themselves; then the bodies that form a small combination, and as one may say, are nearest to the powers of the first beginnings, are set moving, driven by the unseen blows of these, while they in their turn attack those that are a little larger. Thus the movement ascends from the first beginnings and by successive degrees emerges upon our senses, so that those bodies also are moved which we are able to perceive in the sun’s light, yet it does not openly appear by what blows they are made to do so.

Anyway, I’m probably not very coherent about this stuff right now. Being middle of the night and all. But I’ll just quote Lucretius again on how the swerve saves us from fatalism in practice, and close out.

If cause forever follows after cause
In infinite undeviating sequence
And a new motion always has to come
Out of an old one, by fixed law; if atoms
Do not, by swerving, cause new moves which break
the laws of fate; if cause forever follows,
In infinite sequence, cause – where would we get
This free will that we have, wrested from fate,
By which we go ahead, each one of us,
Wherever our pleasures urge? Don’t we also swerve
At no fixed time or place, but as our purpose
Directs us? There’s no doubt each man’s will
Initiates action, and this prompting stirs
Our limbs to movement. When the gates fly open,
No racehorse breaks as quickly as he wants to,
For the whole body of matter must be aroused,
Inspired to follow what the mind desires.

Speaking of Black Swans, they figure in Lucretius’ description of the Epicurean theory of color

Since special shapes have not a special colour,
And all formations of the primal germs
Can be of any sheen thou wilt, why, then,
Are not those objects which are of them made
Suffused, each kind with colours of every kind?
For then ’twere meet that ravens, as they fly,
Should dartle from white pinions a white sheen,
Or swans turn black from seed of black, or be
Of any single varied dye thou wilt.

Book II.817

I’m going to dream of swans tonight.

If the Discourse on Method (read it here) made me dizzy and giddy as a schoolboy, it is because in the fabulous few pages of part four of his book, Descartes turns the world right on its head. A reductionist might say he did it in just the three words (in Latin, five in English) of the cogito. From “I think” I can know “I am” and from there I can know I have a soul and from that I can know God. Not only can I know God, but I can know Him more clearly and distinctly than I can know anything else. And it is this first rule of Descartes’ method—never to accept anything as true unless it is known clearly and distinctly—that upsets the whole of Christendom. Very few people have the greatness to bend history itself, as Robert Kennedy said, but our Frenchman is one of them.

After all the excitement, however, I cannot help but to return to my thoughts about Lucretius (August 29, 08). Cartesian reductionism does not seem so different from Epicurean atomism in its deadening effect on my spirit. But even the prosaic Lucretius thought it important to think about reality. Descartes thought it more important to think about thinking. When he says “I think, therefore I am” he still believes in God, but he makes Him transcendent to thought.  He hives off theological questions. Had he left them to theologians that would have been fine, but the first rule of his method cuts short any rational discussion of the mystery of being. That is, we cannot accept mystery because by definition it cannot be known clearly and distinctly–Descartes conditions for claiming knowledge. This is not immediately obvious in the Discourse, but I don’t think Descartes hoped to fool Catholic censors; he knew they were too clever to be tricked. I suspect he was carried away by his enthusiasm, in the way the modern scientist will split an atom to see what is inside even at the risk of blowing up the world. The upshot is that theology becomes superfluous, if not superstitious talk; and I am left with an inadequate account of my being and, worse, no means to make a better one.

A second, unintended consequence arises. When he removed religion, that is our theories of everything, Descartes created an epistemological vacuum and human nature did what every nature does with a vacuum. Since Descartes, it let science slide into that part of understanding that was once occupied by theology. (Take at look at the Temple of Science in Wired). Ironically, this is the very place from which Descartes saw—and saw rightly—it needed to be extricated. Now, however, moderns act like the old instrumentalists: New theories—or old ones such as Catholicism—can be discussed so long as they do not question the authority of science on matters of ultimate truths. This is Galileo and his friend-turned-persecutor, Cardinal Barbarini, inverted.

I was looking for a reference in Lucretius’ epic philosophical poem, On the Nature of Things, as I prepared my classes for the fall school start up. Lucretius, and his muse, Epicurus, expect materialism to inspire confidence. No longer need we fear death, those two say, because where we are, death is not. That is, when we are dead, there will be no consciousness to register the fact, so, as Bobby McFerrin sang some 2,000 years later, “Don’t worry. Be happy.”

My own brush with mortality leads me to believe otherwise; Death and I once spent an intimate and exceedingly unpleasant moment together in the shadow of Notre Dame cathedral in Paris. We may argue endlessly about whether this near-death experience was in fact real or merely some hallucination, brought to life, as many tell me, by my Western Christian prejudices about dying and the afterlife. If I am deluded, then my delusion is complete, for although I cannot offer any conventional proof that things happened as I claim they did, they are the surest things I lay claim to knowing. But never mind here, let us just register that this happened.

Notwithstanding my own experience then, it is hard to take inspiration from or to find confidence in a way of thinking that emboldens me to pursue nothing. If it is true, Lucretius’ story frees me from ultimate fears, and being mortal I feel most gratified to anything that can do that; but whether or not it is true, the story does not free me for anything in particular, or at least nothing of particular importance. Being good to one another and living by modest means is a very fine way to go about the world; and no doubt it seemed especially fine to a Roman in the violent years of the waning Republic. But I cannot help thinking that cows also live modestly and benignly, if not exactly kindly. Not many people have jumped out of an airplane and had the misfortune of parachuting into a pasture full of happy cows. But those who have will tell you that you can yell “Cow! Cow! Watch out!” until you’re blue in the face but the cows will not budge one step. They will look left and right rather stupidly and go back to jawing cud; it just doesn’t occur to them that something of consequence might come down from above.

Of course, all may indeed be the blind destiny of matter. We may quite properly look to the grass at our feet instead of the stars over our heads for meaning. But at this moment I do not want to consider the relation of materialism to the truth. My objections here are psychological. The road marked by materialism is far more contracted than the narrow path to the Kingdom of Heaven. The Roman Catholic Church can say sorry to Galileo and still be a church, but Lucretius cannot say sorry to God without his whole world coming undone. And for Plato’s philosopher kings, 40 years of the most intensive study will neither enliven life’s journey nor take them anywhere else but to a bleak dissolution. Materialism’s grey philosophy leaves out first causes and instead deals only with simple or efficient causes and thus succumbs to all the deadening effects of mere efficiency. Ironically, what is missing from Lucretius’ poem is poetry—and hope, initiative, inquisitiveness, striving, resolution…all that is human.

It has become de rigueur in the last century, the last philosophical century, to approach thought via a limit-concept, and our philosophies are marked by the tropes of this finitude. In short, thought is tragic; or put slightly differently, thought is Heideggerian. Tragic since the ultimate horizon of thought and being are found in the human. The question that arises in this paper is whether the next philosophical century is possible. Is a non-tragic thought possible? Or put slightly differently, is it possible for a thought to exist that does not simply reject the previous conditions of thought but instead pushes these conditions to their most radical conclusion?

The difficulty that arises is from where a non-tragic thought could find its bearings. Tragic thought does not simply affect the current position of philosophy, but instead transforms the entire history of philosophy, through Heidegger’s appropriation of ancient thought through his studies from Parmenides to Aristotle up through Augustine. What is needed, then, is a position within the stream of philosophy that is not already appropriated by the tragic moment in thought. It is the wager of this paper that that position is the one occupied by Titus Lucretius Carus, and his magnificent De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things ). Lucretius is, quite simply, unthinkable from the perspective of tragic thought, from Heidegger’s thought, and thus remains an obscure figure in the history of philosophy, at best. More importantly, Lucretius continually runs ahead of Heidegger and thus he appears to be beyond the tragic era. What Lucretius’ philosophy provides is the possibility to re-think the tropes of thought that have been brought forth by the tragic century and thus, allows for the beginning of a non-tragic thought.

Ultimately, tragic thought operates via a particular relationship between philosophy and science; it is an assertion that science must take philosophy as its condition. This point is made explicitly in Heidegger’s earliest work, whether philosophy is seen as a fundamental ontology versus science’s regional ontology or philosophy as critical science with science as positive science. In his lecture course on Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, Heidegger states,

…whereas the physicist defines what he understands by motion and circumscribes what place and time mean—whereby he relies in part on ordinary concepts—still, however, he does not make motion’s way of being a theme of his investigation. Rather he examines only certain movements. The physicist does not inquire into the ownmost inner possibility of time, but rather uses time as that with respect to which he measures motion…The scientific methods have been developed precisely in order to explore beings. But they are not suited for examining the being of these beings. If this is to happen, then what we need is not to objectify a being, e.g., the existing nature as a whole, but the ontological constitution of nature or the being of that which exists as historical.

In the course the previous year, Heidegger states, “…the other sciences, mathematics, physics, history, philology, linguistics, do not begin by asking what is mathematics (etc.); instead they just set about their work, they plunge into their subject matter…In the very essence of all these sciences, in the fact that they are positive sciences, versus philosophy, which we call the critical science.” For Heidegger, science is only capable of dealing with beings but is incapable of understandings its own foundations in being. Philosophy, on the other hand, is capable of providing this foundation via its role as fundamental ontology. In short, science remains lacking, existing only as a possible philosophy at best.

But what is the effect on science from this approach? At the surface level, this requirement is little more than a version of the Kantian transcendental, a search for the conditions of possibility for any science. But what must be recognized, and this is the contention of this paper, is that this seemingly innocuous requirement is a poison pill and that science’s acceptance of philosophy as its condition is nothing short of the destruction of science itself, and the casting of philosophy into the sea of idealism. Why is this the case?

Heidegger begins by asserting the necessity of science’s acceptance of philosophy as its condition, pointing to antiquity for proof of this relationship. He then adds that what philosophy, as the “freest possibility of human existence” provides is the “most original and necessary relationship” to being. But since Heidegger’s understanding of being is its openness, its givenness, or its manifestation, then he has affirmed himself within the lineage of Kant, and thus, science, with its condition set by philosophy, loses its ability to touch the real, the reality indifferent to dasein or the human. But such a loss cannot be overcome by science and so results in science’s utter destruction. Being, for Heidegger, cannot be separated from its relationship to the human, imagined as dasein, and thus remains a humanistic idealism masquerading as a radical philosophy.

But what if the relationship is reversed? What if science becomes the condition of a philosophical thought? It is already in Plato where this understanding of philosophy is put into practice. Mathematics and specifically its non-empirical status serves as the student’s, and our own, path from becoming to being. It is mathematics that sets itself against doxa, against the endless assertion of one’s opinion and perspective. Let us look at Plato’s Republic Book 7:
Think a little and you will see that what has preceded will supply the answer; for if simple unity could be adequately perceived by the sight or by any other sense, then, as we were saying in the case of the finger, there would be nothing to attract towards being; but when there is some contradiction always present, and one is the reverse of one and involves the conception of plurality, then thought begins to be aroused within us, and the soul perplexed and wanting to arrive at a decision asks ‘What is absolute unity?’ This is the way in which the study of the one has a power of drawing and converting the mind to the contemplation of true being.

What then of Lucretius, this obscure Latin poet philosopher? The insight is Michel Serres’, found in his extended study on Lucretius, The Birth of the Physics . Serres rejects the notion that ancient atomism, specifically Lucretius’, is naïve or non-mathematical. Instead, he asserts that Lucretius’ most fundamental insight, the swerve of the clinamen, operates via a specific dialogue with the mathematics of Archimedes, specifically the proto-calculus of infinitesimals. “Not only did the atom have to be born by way of the treatment of curved elements, in the irrational and differential, or by way of the indefinitely divisible…This is because the angle of contingency may not be subdivided: it is demonstrably minimal. It is null, but without the lines which form it overlaying one another.” Let us look to Lucretius’ actual text to see this for ourselves.

It begins with the laminar flow, the gravitational descent of atoms in the perfect parallel order, then “at absolutely unpredictable times” the atom swerves off its path, slightly, by “only an infinitesimal degree,” a deviation of the smallest possible angle. And thus the lines of the laminar flow become spirals, at utterly incomprehensible moments since they are moments without witness or givenness, as the clinamen begins to wobble, order is broken, the void is joined by the reality of the atom. Atom meets atom, eventually, as the spiral forms a cone and force of gravity is transferred via an encounter. As Althusser will say in his rediscovery of the secret history of materialism: “it is clear that the encounter creates nothing of the reality of the world, which is nothing but agglomerated atoms, but that it confers their reality upon atoms themselves, which without swerve and encounter, would be nothing but abstract elements…” The swerve of the clinamen, long dismissed as “puerile” or a “most monstrous absurdity” or worse yet, used to introduce free will, should be seen as the most basic mathematized thought of a temporality without givenness.

We should pause here just to note the radical difference between this mathematical beginning and the other ancient model that has received so much attention in our tragic era, namely the one discovered in Plato’s Timeaus. The point is not primarily a question on the value of chaos versus order, although this certainly plays a role, but instead the relationship between the world and the human. In Plato, the world is placed into order by the demiurge because of its moral purity, which is to say, because of the coming human soul that the demiurge is preparing. Whereas in Lucretius, the human, the product of the random combination of atoms, is ill-suited for the world, since it exists without reason, and is incapable of forming itself as dominion. Lucretius’ approach is thoroughly scientific; Plato is unable to break from the doxa of Greek religion. To paraphrase Lautréamont, “he who knows and appreciates (mathematics) no longer wants the goods of the earth and is satisfied with (its) magical delights…(the demiurge) only offers (Plato) illusions and moral phantasmagoria.”

What, then, is the effect of such a reversal of the basic relation between science and philosophy? What becomes of the tropes of finitude that we philosophers have been unable to operate without? Let us look at two of these tropes, death of the mortal man and death of the immortal god, and how these are transformed in Lucretius’ philosophy. Heidegger, in the Beitrage, writes, “The uniqueness of death in human Da-sein belongs to the most originary determination of Da-sein, namely to be en-owned by be-ing itself in order to ground its truth (openness of self-sheltering). What is most non-ordinary in all of beings is opened up within death’s non-ordinariness and uniqueness, namely be-ing itself, which holds sway as estranging.” Or in Being and Time, we are presented with “With death, Dasein stands before itself in its ownmost potentiality-of-being. In this possibility, Da-sein is concerned about its being-in-the-world absolutely…As the end of Da-sein, death is the ownmost nonrelation, certain, and as such, indefinite and not to be bypassed possibility of Da-sein. ” In short, death is an event since it pronounces the highest possibility of Dasein and with this, death displays the ultimately groundedness of Da-sein as the ab-ground, the abyss. Death reveals the truth of being to Dasein; this truth being the original givenness of the world, or what Heidegger comes to call the “other beginning.” This other beginning is not the material conditions for a world but instead the ultimate human centeredness, or Dasein centeredness if you prefer, of being itself.

This being said, there is a remarkably different approach to death in the work of Lucretius. He states, “Death, then, is nothing to us and does not affect us in the least, now that the nature of the mind is understood to be mortal.” The most important difference between the tragic approach and Lucretius’ is that Lucretius robs death of its status of the singularity. Death, according to Lucretius, is a property of the body, as it is a property of all bodies. A property according to Lucretius “is what cannot under any circumstances be severed and separated from a body without the divorce involving destruction.” Death then is a property of all bodies, save one, the atom. Humans die, but so do plants and planets. Heidegger magnifies the importance of death since the revealedness of being is directly correlated to Dasein. No such relationship is presupposed by Lucretius, since his mathematics has presented him with the possibility of a thought without human witnesses. Mathematics is, after all, “an instance of stellar and warlike inhumanity.” We should be wary of making the mistake of supposing that Lucretius’ view on death is an historical curiosity, and mere replication of the zeitgeist of Roman philosophy, a masculine warrior’s response to the inevitable. While it is true the Stoics dismissed death as a concern, they also offered themselves an escape clause via their insistence that the gods would honor their triumphs. Lucretius, as will discuss in the next section has no such clause.

What then of the death of the immortal god? The death of God or, to use Heidegger’s later formulation, the fleeing of the Last God is the condition of possibility for world. “The last god has its essential swaying within the hint, the onset and staying-away of the arrival as well as the flight of the gods who have been…In such essential swaying of the hint, be-ing itself comes to fullness. Fullness is preparedness for becoming a fruit and a gifting…Here the innermost finitude of be-ing reveals itself: in the hint of the last god.” Once again we return to the centrality of the human, Da-sein. The fleeing of the Gods reveals be-ing as gift, whether delivered or delayed, it makes no difference. Heidegger has asserted the impossibility of any thought beyond the manifestation of world to Dasein, and tragic thought receives its trope. This position is not unique to Heidegger and is found both before his explicit creation of tragic thought and in those tragic thinkers who have carried in his wake. We can, for instance, see this beginnings of this approach to God’s absence in the sorrow of Nietzsche’s madman, who wonders what humanity will do now that it as lost its greatest treasure. Also, we have a more recent contribution to this thought in the work of Simon Critchley, specifically his newest book Infinitely Demanding. In this work, Critchley locates the motivating force of philosophy itself in the disappointment that the philosopher feels in losing God. What we get in all three of these thinkers is the arrival of Aristotle’s tragic hero, the great man who has suffered a reversal of fortune.

Lucretius, on the other hand, commits the unforgivable sin of rejecting God at its premises, and therefore God’s death as logically impossible. There is simply no role preserved for the gods in Lucretius’ philosophy, since the beginning of the reality occurs via mathematics or physics rather than divine commandment. “For it is inherent in the very nature of the gods that they should enjoy immortal life in perfect peace, far removed and separated from our world; free from all distress, free from peril, fully self-sufficient, independent of us, they are not influenced by worthy conduct nor touched by anger.” It is simply logically impossible that the gods are here in our world or were ever here. To say otherwise to assert the importance of the human and its perspective, but humanity has never been a hero, is not touched by destiny, and therefore, lacks the fortune that vanity perceives.

What is important is to see that these tropes of tragic thought were not selected at random; instead they are the central coordinates of tragic thought itself. The traditional relationship in western philosophy between humanity and God has focused on the “great chain of being,” with the immortal god seating comfortable at the top, well above mortal humans. But the death of god has brought about a collapse of this chain. What has been missed by tragic thought is effect that this event has on the rest of the chain. We have been told repeatedly the loss of God solidifies our finite position, and has engendered disappointment, etc. But the dyad of immortal/mortal can only be maintained so long as the point of comparison, here infinity, survives. The ultimately effect of the loss of God is not the absolutizing of the finitude of be-ing, but instead the infinitizing of reality itself. Much has been made by Alain Badiou of Georg Cantor’s discovery of infinity as number, but we can already see the idea of numbered infinity at play in Lucretius. From a distance the sheep bleed into one another and appear as a mass of white upon the hill, moving as one, and as it is with the sheep, it is with atoms. Once again, it is Archimedes and his Sand Reckoner, which provide the first hints at the infinite, not as divine, but as number.

One possibility that confronts us is to assume that non-tragic thought is simply the opposite of tragic thought. This would be a mistake. Non-tragic thought is tragic thought taken to its most extreme possibility, which is the full embrace of finitude. Contrary to the approach of contemporary thought, human finitude does not operate as a limit to thought but instead allows thought to get beyond the human perspective; the radical acceptance of finitude makes it possible that, to quote Ray Brassier, “Philosophy should be more than a sop to the pathetic twinge of human self-esteem.”

As we have already discussed, Heidegger sees death as the ultimately potentiality of Dasein. The failure that Heidegger succumbs to is the inability to fully embrace this potentiality for all possible Dasein. Heidegger touches twice on this possibility but abandons the path both times to return to the singular death of a particular Dasein. The analysis of the being-toward-death of Dasein begins as the death of others. This first path is found to be limited since “in dying, it becomes evident that death is ontologically constituted by mineness and existence.” And so, although “every Dasein must itself actually take dying upon itself…”, Heidegger fails to truly grasp the “every” of finitude, and continues to think death only as a singular occurrence of a singular Dasein. When Heidegger does approach the concept of death in the collective, it is only in relation to the “the they.” But the “the they” can only think the death of the generic Dasein, “one dies”; and thus, “the they” fails to grasp the real occurrence of death for themselves.

The problem for Heideggerian thought is that commits a similar error. If “the they” cannot think its own death, Heidegger cannot get beyond his own death, which is the death of a specific Dasein. The proper procedure would be the combination of both approaches to death, that is, the recognition that one does indeed die, but also that this one is always a specific one, a Dasein. Thus we fully accept the possibility that “every Dasein” will die, not someday, but at the specific point of extinction, at the arrival of the stellar explosion. This extinction, which is first properly thought by Lucretius, is the absolute exhaustion of the human given.

Now the aged plowsman shakes his head and time after time sighs that his hard labor has all come to nothing…His gloomy sentiments are echoed by the planter of the old and shriveled vine who deplores the tendency of the times…Only he fails to grasp that all things gradually decay and head for the reef of destruction, exhausted by long lapse of time.

From the thought of the absolute finitude of all possible Dasein we arrive at the possible thought of a thinking beyond the existence of Dasein, a point when “the earth be confounded with the sea, and the sea with the sky.” And as we can now think the beyond of Dasein, we can also think the before of Dasein. Through a radical embracing of finitude, a radicality absent from Heidegger and his followers, thought is severed from the limits of humanity and becomes thoroughly inhuman.

Ultimately, tragic thought, in general, and Heidegger’s thought, in particular, remains little more than elaborate and hyper-stylized astrology. In Quentin Meillassoux’s After Finitude, he calls into question Kant’s relationship to his so-called “Copernican revolution” and instead, asserts that what critical and, most importantly for us, post-critical philosophy represents is a “Ptolemaic counter-revolution.” If Galileo’s great insight was to expel humans from the center of reality, then it was Kant’s greatness that returned us to our place. We can even see in Ptolemy the desire to supplement the science of astronomy with a proper metaphysical outlook, so as to understand the effects of the “ambients.” And thus we today are the inheritors of a thought that places the cosmos back in orbit around us, a thought that can only be tragic since it assumes that the movements of the planets are forever tied to the whims and desires of the human ego. Therefore, non-tragic thought is that thought that is willing to go all the way to the end and accept the utter meaninglessness of our very existence and in so doing re-affirm philosophy’s materialist binding to science.

“Fear was the first thing on earth to make gods”

— Lucretius

1. Death is annihilation.
2. The living have not yet been annihilated (otherwise they wouldn’t be alive).
3. Death does not affect the living. (from 1 and 2)
4. So, death is not bad for the living. (from 3)
5. For something to be bad for somebody, that person has to exist, at least.
6. The dead do not exist. (from 1)
7. Therefore, death is not bad for the dead. (from 5 and 6)
8. Therefore death is bad for neither the living nor the dead. (from 4 and 7)

2. The arguments concerning the Epicurean indifference to the temporal duration of the good (e.g., PD 19, 20; elsewhere), can be connected to the claim that death is not a harm. There appears to be textual evidence that this connection was intended or appreciated, e.g., Letter to Menoeceus 126, De Rerum Natura 3.940-50, 3.1088-90, probably elsewhere. (Lucretius’ point that “we cannot deduct a single moment of the time of our death” seems kind of irrelevant to me, as I would not think of the aim as minimizing the time that one is dead [an infinite span of time], but rather increasing the amount of time one spends enjoying life).

Since what gets identified with the highest good cannot be increased with time, cutting one’s pleasure short (via death) cannot be construed as a deprivation of goods. And so even if we allow that depriving someone of a good constitutes a harm, this does not occur in death. However, as I’ve expressed before, this notion of indifference to temporal duration is very mysterious to me — even on the assumption that the good for Epicureans involves a state of aponia and ataraxia. Nowhere in the readings can I find a cogent argument for such temporal duration indifference. Being in a good state for a longer period of time seems (all else equal) better than being in a good state for a shorter period of time.

If temporal duration indifference about the good is justified, this would seem to support the conclusion that death is not a harm. However, it seems that it could do so in a rather straightforward manner. Roughly: since more life is not better, and since death involves no negative sense experience, death is not a harm (or a bad thing). But then this seems to make the “no subject of harm” considerations (mentioned in Letter to Menoeceus) superfluous.

3. Lucretius’ “symmetry argument”: “Look back now and consider how the bygone ages of eternity that elapsed before our birth were nothing to us. Here, then, is a mirror in which nature shows us the time to come after our death. Do you see anything fearful in it? Do you perceive anything grim? Does it not appear more peaceful than the deepest sleep?” (De Rerum Natura 3.972-6).

Now, this might be interpreted not as an argument for the conclusion that death is not a harm, but rather merely as remarks intended to ameliorate one’s fear of death. The latter seems to be a viable interpretation, and I would not have much (if anything) to say against Lucretius on this score. But if this passage was intended to be an argument about the harmlessness of death, it does not seem to be very persuasive.

The most I would see it doing on this score is reiterating Epicurus’ claim that good and bad must consist in some sense-experience. It does not address the commonsense idea that a deprivation of a good is a bad thing (independent of any negative sense experience associated with the deprivation).

If deprivation of good is generally a bad thing, then we might accept some kind of temporal symmetry — and claim both that it is bad that a good life will not continue indefinitely into the future and that it is bad that a good life did not begin indefinitely far into the past. If deprivation of a good is not generally a bad thing, but a bad thing when it deprives, e.g., an identifiable individual (as opposed to possible, indeterminate individuals) of goods, then we might accept a kind of temporal asymmetry — and claim that, for a particular individual living a good life, while it is a bad thing that her life will not continue indefinitely into the future, it does not make sense to think of it as a bad thing that she was not born earlier. There are various reasons for deciding between an asymmetric view versus a symmetric view (e.g., whether harms and benefits must affect identifiable individuals; whether harms and benefits are relative to existent desires, etc.). Asymmetric views tend to think it sensible to speak of the harm or badness of death, but not of the harm or badness of not ever having been brought into existence. (Also see Thomas Nagel’s paper “Death” in Mortal Questions; and Parfit discusses many of these sorts issues in Reasons and Persons).

4. If Epicureans lack a single, coherent argument to the conclusion that death is not a harm, then perhaps their multiple distinct arguments to this conclusion might be best explained by the pressing need to justify holding an anxiety-reducing belief (that death is not a harm). Without conclusive evidence that none of the Epicurean arguments establish the claim that death is not a harm, the below suggestion may seem uncharitable of me. However, perhaps the implicit reasoning of Epicureans went something like this: If we believe that death constitutes a harm (or a bad event) for us, then we will fear death. We should not fear death (as it causes unnecessary suffering). Therefore, we should not believe that death constitutes a harm for us. However, this line of reasoning would (at best) only support the conclusion that we should not believe that death is a harm for us, not that death is not (really) a harm for us.

So, I looked over the Latin for the passage we briefly discussed at the end of the last class. This is III.135-145 or so. Briefly, our translation says that the mind and spirit form a substance. The ruler of the body is reason, called mind or intelligence.Later we hear that the rest of the soul is obedient to the will and mind.

Well, in Latin, we’ve got that the animus (mind/will/soul) and the anima (soul/breath/life) are fused in one natura (nature, not substance!) The ruler is the consilium (reason/judgement/will) which we call animus and mens (mind/intellect). The rest of the anima (same word as earlier!) is obedient to the numen (divine will/divine presence/god) and mens.

I’m just going by my abridged Oxford Latin dictionary here for the translations. So, two things jump out at me. First, where we have soul and spirit, the original just has anima. Second, natura is almost always best translated as nature, in my (well, pretty limited) experience. Substance fits the context, but it feels like a jump from the Latin.

A few other issues. I’m not totally clear on this, but I think “animus” is generally something like the mind and “anima” is generally something like an animating principal. Also, “consilium”, “animus” and “mens” all seem to identified with each other. Now, what to do with “numen”? Both our translation and the old Loeb give “will” for this, so maybe we should trust them. I’m just not that familiar with the term.

This was something I wanted to draw attention to in class, just cause I thought it was neat. One of Lucretius’s arguments for the existence of atoms (II.125-142) seems to be the same as the argument in Einstein’s first published paper, which (as far as I know) used Brownian motion as evidence for the existence of atoms. That’s kick-ass. Of course, Einstein included detailed mathematical calculations and also included empirical verification of some of Boltzmann’s statistical mechanical predictions.

I think he also has the Stosszahlansatz at II.85.

-Nat