In the Elements of Philosophy of Right Hegel rejects the idea of freedom simply being the proper prioritization of the passions and ranking of actions, which I think you see in Aristotle and Epicurus to some extent. This is at best a partial freedom because it is still always going to be determined from without to a great extent. — Count Timothy von Icarus
So there's interesting points of consonance and dissonance that I perceive here between Hegel and ancient ethics, at least as we're talking about those two things here. Autarky, in particular, is a goal of Epicurean philosophy -- which gets along with notions of freedom. Further the notion of the invulnerable man gets along with the notion of absolute freedom you present.
What's funny, though, is that both Aristotle and Epicurus rely upon notions of human nature in order to make their case. In a way you could say that this is not determined from without, but from within -- but this is where I see a strong difference in the approaches. The enlightenment-era philosophers will speak in terms of will -- and so first and second order desires make sense -- but the ancient philosophers will speak in terms of nature.
These could be read in harmony if we chose to find some way to speak of the social freedom you speak of in terms of human nature, but obviously they don't need to be read in harmony. And what you say here points out a good point of tension: living in accord with your nature is seen as the highest freedom in Epicurus. You obviously can't will yourself to not be what you are, or at least if you do so you'll cause yourself unnecessary anxiety. But then the Enlightenment-inspired notions of desire speak of a willing subject rather than a species-being which you can live in accord with. (though if we're to be technically correct it's worth noting here that both are a kind of fib that isn't really true or false, but rather is the meaningful background upon which ethical justification is built)
Now above, Paul talks of being "dead in sin," but this is not a biological death. It's a death of personhood that is restored by Christ, the Logos. In a more symbolic reading of how the Logos quells sin and "casts out the Legion within," we approach the more rationalist formulation in Hegel, although we lose something as well.
I've read a lot of Hegel and I think Wallace is spot on in many respects. The idea is that we become free by going "inwards and upwards" ala Saint Augustine is stronger in Plato though. There is a reaching beyond proximate causes that make us their effects, towards self-determination. And to the extent that we transcend our boundaries, reaching out in rationality and dissolving love, we are free.
But then descriptions of Hegel or Plato as pantheists are completely wrong, as are descriptions of them as "anthrotheists." The point is that we are only deified to the extent we are self-determining, free, and we are only free to the extent we transcend, and we only transcend to the extent that we are intellectually determined by rationality and emotionally determined by an open love.
And this seems actually closer to more orthodox religion, Rumi, Saint Paul, etc. than many forms of "philosophical religion." It's the same sort of transcendent attitude you see in "God is love," "God is in us," "living through the will of God," "Christ living in us/us living in Christ," which is smattered across Saint John, Saint Paul, and even to a degree Saint Peter's writing.
Absolute transcendence is crucial for the fullest sort of freedom because to have something that is outside one's self is crucially to be defined by that thing. But if one transcends all boundaries then there can be full self-determination. And I think you see a bit of this intuition in Shankara too. — Count Timothy von Icarus
I quote here because I believe you're demonstrating the difference here strongly. Autarky is the ability to be self-sufficient as the human being that you are, but absolute freedom, absolute transcendence is this ethical goal to be beyond what one is. It's an ethics of self-transformation rather than an ethics of being-at-home, or something like that. (obviously these are terms of art here)
A woman's desire to bear and raise a child. I don't know of a male philosopher who looks at this seriously: yet it's how the species continues, the heart of the matter. Pleasure/pain cannot account for these desires, or so it seems to me. There is something marvellous involved: the embrace of pain and confinement to enable something else; the desire to create another, to recognise and love that other and to find fulfilment in both the caring for that other, and the eventual letting go of control. — mcdoodle
In terms of the division here I'd put that in the natural and unnecessary desires -- it's natural to want children, but one doesn't
need children in order to live a tranquil life (or, it's a groundless desire to want to bare a child if you're unable -- you can still raise children, but the desire to bare a child will never be satisfied). Though I'll go half-way here and agree that Epicurean desire doesn't make sense of the desire for children, which do not bring about a tranquil life, but do bring about fulfillment for some people. I think this point can be generalized, even -- often times people find dangerous, painful, irrational, etc. desires satisfactory, and that satisfaction is not the satisfaction of tranquility. The Epicurean ethic would simply say these desires are allowable insofar that you don't pursue them to the point that they cannot be satisfied (or, perhaps, this is an interpretation of the ethic with respect to this desire)
Sado-masochism. In s/m behaviour a high degree of pain may be the greatest pleasure. And the ethical approaches to such behaviour involve, as the Count outlines in another context, the second order desire: How shall we enact our desires, that will involve being hurt or hurting, in a way that acknowledges and indeed privileges the other? After all, the enactment of such desires on a first order basis would be no more than narcissism, and cruelty. — mcdoodle
Here's where I think Epicurus' theory of desire shines -- it's not a theory of desire which is built along pain/pleasure alone; it has a tri-partite structure to help sort out
which pleasures one ought to pursue. Sadomasochism is a desire some people find fulfilling, but do they find it tranquil? I'd say that depends on the individual. It could bring about tranquility, but it could also be a perverse desire in the technical sense where you can achieve tranquility through modifying desire rather than pursuing s/m -- but if you don't have that choice, if you're "anchored" lets say to sadomasochism, then surely pushing against yourself would also cause anxiety -- and the desire to not be s/m could be the real cause of anxiety, when a person may be able to satisfy that desire without an anxious circle of desiring-to-not building up into a release that itself becomes the object of desire.
So to classify the example: I think sadomasochism would fit within the category of natural and unnecessary desires, and could be either a perverted desire in the sense that it becomes groundless, or it could just be a quirky desire that's natural in the sense that it belongs to the person as they are, and unnecessary in that it's not needed to continue life and ought be foregone if it brings about anxiety.
What I believe myself to be adding is a kind of sub-category to the natural and unnecessary desires: there are the ones which are not perverted (can be satisfied) and there are the ones that are perveted (cannot be satisfied). While I think the always groundless desires (like the desire for immortality) probably do hold for all people, it's this middle category in-between the necessary/natural and the always groundless desires where most of our psychological wonderings sit. This is the place where we cause our own problems and pains through the very things we believe will relieve those pains, but excising the desire is a more certain way, at least, of attaining the general ataraxic temperament.
I start off taking an analytic approach to these questions, but it seems to me Levinas' explorations of our encounters with the other offer great insights into how we can resolve the analytic problems that arise. — mcdoodle
Here we agree. It's so good. Unfortunately I find it hard to express because of its phenomenological form of expression. It's like it gets at a truth that I find hard to express in any other way.
For Lacan, desire is never fully satisfied. Any material or ‘natural’ need requires articulation and recognition demanded from another. After transferrence onto the general form, desire bears on something other than the satisfaction it can bring. The particularity of a need assumes an irresolvable lack that transcends the given situation and generates a ceaseless sense of incompleteness. Lacan entirely transforms the perspective on transgression and perversion. — Number2018
First I'm pretty much taking your word on Lacan here. I've read people influenced by him but never took that plunge. With that being said I'd say the natural and necessary desires would stand out in Lacan's theory of desire, which are re-occurring due to the nature of life but satisfiable. But I suspect that Lacan would take these facts of hunger and thirst and say that due to their reoccurrence they are never fully satisfied. Or, perhaps, just that we have reoccurring desires is enough to generate a ceaseless sense of incompleteness.
In which case I think it'd be safe to say that Lacan's desire runs orthogonally to Epicurean desire. If desire is never satisfiable, if there's is always a lack and a sense of incompleteness, then the Epicurean cure is a fraud. You'd be making the desire for desire itself a groundless desire which cannot be satisfied.
But this is where I think the appeal to nature -- even though it's fallacious! -- is actually a strength. Running along with the philosophy as I did with Sadomaoschistic desire: Surely if the goal is tranquility then building up desires about desire would result in anxiety if our desires about desire lead us to desire things which cannot be satisfied. But if you, instead, come to live with your own nature -- in this case a ceaseless sense of incompleteness due to the nature of desire as a lack -- you can come to see that it's just a little bit of pain, and that pain isn't all that bad to deal with after all. The pain will come again, and so will go away, and the pleasure will fade away, but will come about again.
I can’t speak to perversion and desire. But I am confident that most people don’t know what they want and their active pursuits and ostensible meaning are derived through goals provided by enculturation and marketing. The person who has reflected and worked to transcend these has a better shot at happiness. I suspect this is close to Epicurus. — Tom Storm
For Epicurus there's a definitive cure, and so he takes it upon himself to do the enculturation and marketing so that people will have the
right wants. It's probably the thing that makes his philosophy the most obscure and strange from our way of thinking today -- we'd say a person has to come to that conclusion on their own, Epicurus would say that this is like giving a person with a broken bone the opportunity to learn how to set a bone; it might happen, and those who figure it out probably do feel good about figuring it out, but it's a cruelty if you see things as he does. (I've never been able to take that extra step, so I don't quite see things like that. But I can articulate the viewpoint)
Basically if we're confident that most people don't know what they want, and we know a set of wants which produce happiness, then why bother giving people the freedom to hurt themselves when it's ignorance which is the culprit of their misery?
Life is perverse. It consumes itself in renewing itself. Mind would like to rise above life, but does so only in self-denial - aka love. — unenlightened
Is the consumption of life to preserve life a perversion, or can you see it as a natural flow which can become perverted? At least, I'd like to suggest that love isn't the only way out of the conundrum of desire (but still one of the ways); Epicurus doesn't point to a path of love which transcends life, but rather a mode of desire where we live with the flow of contraries which are interdependent upon one another. It's more like a pruned nature for the purpose of living happily -- and the perversion is the recognition of human desires tendency to want more than what makes a person happy, by their own nature.