Are you sure? Seneca was the richest man in Rome. I'd say that rather than indifferent to money, they should be indifferent to the loss of money. If he was the richest man in Rome, he obviously had quite a large estate, which must have taken time to adequately manage. So he certainly invested that time, one wouldn't invest the time if they were completely indifferent to money - nor would they acquire the money-making skills.

Marcus Aurelius was Roman Emperor - he couldn't have been Emperor if he wasn't interested in power. The difference was just that he wouldn't sacrifice virtue for power - he had the right hirearchy of values. — Agustino

Seneca wrote wonderfully of Stoicism, but his accumulation of riches and power has always made Stoics and aspiring Stoics somewhat uncomfortable. I'm more sympathetic towards him now than I was in the past. It seems to me he became more truly a Stoic as he fell out of favor with Nero. Then, he offered to transfer all his fortune to the Emperor, but this was refused. After the death of his partner in trying to govern Nero, Burrus, he began to divest himself of power and became less and less a figure in government. According to Tacitus, when he became implicated (as well as his nephew, Lucan) in a conspiracy to assassinate Nero and was told to kill himself or be killed, he died in a manner worthy of a Stoic and a philosopher.

Marcus Aurelius was born to be an emperor and groomed to be one. I think being an emperor was in many ways a matter of expected duty to him; all would have thought him likely to become emperor whether he grasped at power or didn't. I'm sure he wasn't immune to the lure of power, though.

Remember, I referred to what a Stoic is supposed to think, believe, feel. Being a Stoic isn't easy.

I read a great deal of Dostoyevsky some time ago. Among Russian authors, I prefer Chekov and Turgenev. Dostoyevsky is too overwrought for me. He doesn't possess the unbearable sanctimony of Tolstoy, but I think was altogether too impressed by "the death of God" and its horrifying impact (in his view and that of others) on our sense of right and wrong. That, however, may have been a function of his time and place. I don't think I'd call him a philosophical writer, as his concerns seem to me more religious that philosophical.

So, you're a p-zombie because you cannot be conscious because you're conscious you experience yourself. Fine.

Definition of Mental Illness: Incapacity of non-physical origin (non-genetic, non-inherited, non-aquired from accidents/diseases) which prevents one from successfully navigating and prospering in one's environment — Agustino

I'm not sure anything has a non-physical origin. But assuming arguendo that's possible, does the fact I'm incapable (due to an aversion to unilaterally imposed rules) of successfully navigating and prospering in the environment of this thread mean I suffer from a mental illness?

A more pertinent question, which I ask myself often, is "Why am I not God?"

Do we have any Xenophanes fans on the forum — ThePhilosopherFromDixie

"One god greatest among gods and men,
not at all like mortals in body or in thought."

He's admirable in many ways, yes.

Certainly. But I'm not referring to people different than us, simply to the state of society. Otherness isn't necessarily other people who happen to have different beliefs and so forth. It's also social organisation, cultural values, etc. which we may wish to alter or make better or improve. — Agustino

Yes, but I think a Stoic would view what should be altered and how it should be altered very differently than most. A Stoic is supposed to be largely indifferent to such things as money, power, property, the opinions of others, what others desire, customs, and the more we speak of social organization and cultural values the more speak of such things as they relate to many people. So I think a Stoic would think that many--perhaps even most--of what creates conflict and disagreement among groups of people to be a function of their misguided concern for and desire for matters and things which are of no real importance, and the desire to possess or exercise control over them. I don't think a Stoic would do anything which would foster such concerns and desires and it seems our politics, at least, is entirely devoted to them.

But Ciceronianus, I feel that otherness is in many regards in our control. The state of our society, the state of the world, is due to people who are just like us, they don't have more than two hands, more than one head, and more than two legs. And we can change it. We can work to make it different. That's eminently within our power. It's not within our immediate power - perhaps - but that doesn't mean that it's forever outside of our grasp. Now orienting yourself this way towards a large goal doesn't lead to suffering, what can lead to suffering is attachement to such a goal in the face of the progression of reality. We can fight for what we believe in, and we can seek to make the world a better place, without increasing our psychological suffering. We don't have to sit down in our desks and accept it, as if it wasn't human beings like us who have created the world. — Agustino

From the Stoic perspective, I think the fact that there are people different from us (other than we are) is not in our control; what is in our control is how we react to it. We need not be angered, disturbed, concerned or alarmed by these differences. To the extent we are, we allow what isn't in our control to influence us adversely.

Certainly, we can do various things to influence others and should in some cases; whether and how we do so is a question of judgment. One of the things which distinguished Stoicism and Epicureanism in history was that Stoicism encouraged participation in public life generally (something which made it attractive to many Romans of the equestrian and senatorial class, for whom life and honors was primarily in the public realm and private life often unimportant).

Discuss. — lambda

No.

The Stoics were materialists, but their materialism didn't (and doesn't!) preclude them from being spiritual or recognizing a God; that God is simply immanent (as was the case with Spinoza). Unlike Spinoza, the Stoics can be said to have thought that two substances exist, one passive on active, in nature; the active being the intelligence or soul of the universe, not being material in the same sense as solid objects, represented as being a divine fire, commonly. There are significant similarities between Spinoza and the Stoic.

The "otherness" being referred to here isn't something the Stoics would recognize, or so I think. Each human having or being a part of the divine is to be respected and revered as a result. When we're disturbed by their "otherness" we disturb ourselves with things not in our control, which Stoicism abjures. That's not to say Stoics are indifferent to all conduct of others and would not object to certain conduct, particularly conduct which is harmful (as it would harm a part of the immanent deity and so be contrary to the divine; not "in accordance with nature"). What we do and think is within our control, and to the extent we can prevent harm we should do so. But what makes someone "other" is in many cases insignificant, and our concern with such otherness is an undue concern with things beyond our control. Stoicism emphasizes our control of ourselves, not the control of others.

I find the simplicity of Stoicism admirable. I think its modern resurgence is encouraging from a spiritual perspective.

Perhaps we men respond differently to the spiritual. Since we're quoting song writers (or some of us are), and they do sometimes get things right, I return to one of the songs of my youth, written by Ian Anderson:

Oh Father high in heaven,
Smile down upon your son,
Who's busy with his money games,
His women and his gun.

Call it a kind of anthem. It must be on the Web somewhere.

It seems to me that in the Western religious tradition, by which I mean the Abrahamic tradition (Christian and Muslim) women are either the vessels or tools of Satan or--very rarely but more in certain times than others--saints or nearly godly themselves, e.g. Mary. I wonder if the idea that they are more spiritual has its basis in what often seems to be our weirdly excessive regard or disregard of them.

But if anything, all this would mean is that God is obsessed with human well-being - because what you eat, how you dress, your sexual preferences, and so forth they all affect your well-being, that's their common denominator. — Agustino

The clothes we wear, the food we eat, who we have sex with and how often we do, have little or nothing to do with our well being except in limited circumstances. So, whether we have warm clothes to wear will impact our physical well being in winter, whether we eat spoiled food will impact our physical well being, whether we have sex with someone with a sexually transmitted disease will do the same. Some religious proscriptions relating to such things may once have derived from observation of the ill effects of certain conduct, but others have nothing to do with well being, physical or otherwise.

Regardless, I think the God of the universe would be unconcerned with such things even if they were connected with our well being; I don't think the human concept of "concern" would apply to such a God.

The tendency to think of God as "Big Daddy" is a primitive one, though not peculiarly Christian. My guess would be that it has its basis in our self-regard, which was understandable enough when we were ignorant and thought the Earth to be all there is but for heaven or hell and other contrivances indulged in to explain the starry heavens and other things of which we had no knowledge. Unfortunately, our self-conceit remains massive enough that many still believe that God is pretty much like us only better in various respects and is obsessed with our lives, what we eat, how we dress, our sexual preferences, whether we keep holy certain days, whether we act in certain ways rather than others, whether we believe God to be this or that, etc.

That kind of conception of God results in conflict as a matter of course, because we tend to differ in our opinions in various respects and as we think God prefers us we think those not like us are not preferred by God, but are in fact disliked by God. So, we act accordingly.

Surprisingly, this conception of God as (I think) very small, limited and something of a busybody wasn't favored by some even in ancient times when we didn't know of the vastness of the universe. So I like to think that we're not fated to worship Big Daddy.

The sex/gender of other persons is one of the many things beyond our control. 'Nuff said.

God's teeth. Are there people who drink alcohol to attain a glimpse of "higher, nobler states of being"?

I tend to drink whiskey, for example, or wine, because I enjoy doing so. "Well" you may say "You can enjoy yourself without drinking whiskey or wine, without their aid." Yes, and I do. What of it?

Well, you can't take what he said literally, you know. What he really meant was [insert explanation deemed approrpiate].

Not necessarily, of course. There are things one let's go. But belittling someone or some condition strikes me as the sort of thing which people shouldn't do. Especially if it is a serious condition. — Moliere

The significance of the conduct has to be considered. "Philosophical contemplation" of suicide doesn't strike me as particularly significant; it's unusual that people would even read of it or hear of it. And it's not as if Camus or anyone else would be ridiculing those with suicidal tendencies or who commit suicide or harming them. No malice or ill-will would be involved. They would merely be engaging in a misguided exercise of sorts.

I don't think the fact I disapprove of something or believe it's futile necessarily means that it shouldn't be done or that I should be disturbed by it.

Don't you have some oblique statement to make about sexual harassment? — Mongrel

Well, Sulla might.

You were, however, contending that to do so is to belittle suicide, no?

Without some shared agreement on what is useful I don't know if we could actually productively argue over whether this or that is useful. What, after all, would you say philosophy is useful for at all? — Moliere

I do contend that, yes--in the same way that "philosophical contemplation" of bipolar disorder or cancer would belittle them. It would be contemplation for the personal satisfaction of the contemplator, quite unassociated with treatment of the disease and those afflicted by it. Treatment of the disease is useful; whether someone who doesn't have the disease thinks it has implications for his/her thoughts on the meaning of life (Camus' most important philosophical question) is not.

Damn. I was going to interview myself, or ask my cat Sulla to do so, or interview Sulla. But now everybody will want to be interviewed. If not by themselves or their cats, then by someone else.

I would say that your wondering how is still not an argument against. There are clearly things we all don't understand -- but that's not a reason to exclude someone from a topic using a particular style of writing. — Moliere

But I'm not contending Camus and others shouldn't philosophically contemplate suicide. They may do so to their hearts' content (though Camus may have hesitated to assert he was content with anything). Similarly, they may contemplate the question "What is the meaning of life?" which Camus called the most important philosophical question in the same essay. I simply think suicide is a medical/psychological problem, not a philosophical one, and think philosophical contemplation of it would be no more useful than the philosophical contemplation of any mental or physical disease or condition.

Certainly addressing a particular case of suicide requires context, and generalizing to understand the motives for suicide requires one to reference the context (since the reasons are many, after all).

But I don't see how that's a reason to exclude suicide from philosophical contemplation. I don't see how you could argue Camus' essay belittles suicide, even if we could imagine that there are ways of belittling suicide by way of philosophical reflection. — Moliere

There is nothing called "suicide" which can be subjected to philosophical contemplation (whatever that may be). There are suicides, each of them different as they involve different individuals and circumstances. Perhaps a scientific investigation into suicides may provide some insight. But I personally feel that very few of them result from philosophical contemplation, as it seems Camus himself realized, so I wonder just how philosophical contemplation would be useful in that case.

I doubt those who seriously consider suicide would benefit at all from the philosophical contemplation of suicide. They would more likely benefit from medical/psychological contemplation and action than being told by some philosopher that they want to kill themselves because life is absurd.

I don't know. I realize that suicide is very serious. But I'd say that it helps to have ways of thinking about serious problems.

I mean, what's the way of thinking about suicide now? Isn't it actually pretty complex? And it's mostly placed within a medical context, too -- thereby depriving the victim of much say in the cure. That isn't to say that it shouldn't be done, but I wouldn't exclude it from the realm of philosophy either tout court. — Moliere

There are sick people, people in trouble because of "real life" problems, desperate people who contemplate suicide. They're not putting the back of their hands to their foreheads and moaning about ennui. Their dilemmas merit study, yes, but I doubt that what they grapple with is the kind of philosophical problem Camus refers to, and is best addressed in context.

It's a problem that can be a most serious one in particular cases. Treating it as a general, abstract--"philosophical"--problem renders it a mere intellectual exercise, which is to belittle it.

Theology has been taught at Oxford and Cambridge for about eight hundred years, with I think the degree being something like Bachelor of Divinity. I am not aware of its having been discontinued. — andrewk

I suppose being a Master of Divinity would seem rather presumptuous.

The issue with that is the women's team didn't even know about the "report" until about 10 days ago so it most definitely isn't "harrasing " speech. If the "report " was published each year and handed to the womens team then i could understand it being harrasing. But dont the supposed "victims " need to know they are being victimized? Or nah? — The17thStateUniversitybro

The question I thought was: What is it appropriate for Harvard to do now that this is unquestionably known to it to have taken place? There may be no viable claim arising out of the conduct at this time, but Harvard has exposure to future claims (not merely those arising from this practice) if it does nothing as it will appear to tolerate the conduct, or even seem to encourage it. I think any competent lawyer would advise Harvard to take action of some kind--at the least to reprimand and also make it clear such conduct is improper and won't be tolerated in the future.

What is going to prevent me from coming into existence again? What's going to keep me dead? — dukkha

It seems there really is no pleasing some people.

Strawman — Pneumenon

Probably. The Tonight Show had a running joke making fun of football players. Apparently a number of the joked upon didn't take it well and developed a bit of hatred for Jimmy Fallon. And that with no mention of favorite sexual positions — Mongrel

It seems the First Amendment issue has been raised contra sexual harassment/discrimination claims when professors indulge in pontificating about women, but I doubt it would serve well when employed regarding the speech of boorish male college athletes; even those of Harvard. The First Amendment defense hasn't seem much success against hostile work environment claims in the ordinary workplace, it seems, but colleges are, of course, very special places.

I suggest Harvard had no option but to do something. As Pete Townsend would say, or sing, it's a legal matter, baby. My experience with the law of sexual harassment/discrimination has been in the arena of employment, but I expect that Harvard would have exposed itself to loss or liability of some kind if it had done nothing. Silence is consent in the law (sometimes); or can be said to be consent, and Harvard can't be seen to consent, or at least cannot be said to have consented.

You may blame this on lawyers if it pleases you. I don't care, and neither does the law, my evil master! The law RULES!

Yes, but some would say "you are the noumenon, how could you be anything else?". This would suggest that to know the noumenon is to know yourself. To know yourself is to know the noumenon. I wonder if it would make any difference, if we were to understand the noumenon, to understand ourselves? — Punshhh

Perhaps it's a failing in me, but I find it difficult to think of this issue as anything but trivial, when looked at in the abstract, at least. For me, the claim that we, as humans, are somehow constrained or limited by our senses or by anything else that makes us human, amounts to nothing more than the unsurprising observation that we're humans. What else should/could we be? We get along well enough regardless of whether the things we interact with daily are "really" something unknowable, but apparently still are the things we manage to interact with daily with some considerable success. The rock I stub my toe on may not be the rock-in-itself, but whatever the hell the rock-in-itself may be it's evidently something very much like the rock I stubbed my toe on.

Do you know who you are? — Punshhh

I wonder if there's a me-in-myself I should be concerned about. People do refer to the "real me" sometimes. For example, sometimes people say something like "You don't know the real me." This seems to imply that there is another me, different from the real one. Also, people sometimes say "I know you better than you know yourself." This seems to imply that others may know who I am better than I can.

But I know who I am, yes, as far as I can being what I am. I'm content enough with that. And as I say, if there's a me that can't really be known, it makes no difference that there is such a me.

A difference that makes no difference, but perhaps it's significant in some peculiar way to understand that we're humans and that's all we can be when it comes to knowing/thinking/doing anything. Not that it makes any difference.

I wish so many well-versed intellectuals wouldn't waste their talent arguing a fundamentally void position here. — colin

The argument is foolish and futile, I think, but arises from the belief that God's existence is something which can, or should be, established in a particular way; through reasoning or something approximating the scientific method. Atheists evidently believe this is the case, but believers do as well, and invite argument by maintaining that God's existence can be so established.

There's no reason anybody should read or respond to this, but as a philosophy of life or statement on various philosophical issues, it has the virtue of being charmingly brief:

The world (universe) exists. I'm a part of it.
The world (universe) is big. You're a part of it too. So are lots of other things. We don't know if there's anything but the universe.
I have no special significance in the world (universe). Neither do you or anyone else. So, there's no reasonable basis on which to maintain that we should be treated differently, merely by virtue of the fact we exist in the universe, than anyone else or on which to maintain we should treat others differently from how we wish to be treated.

Behold, for what it's worth, the philosophy of Relative Insignificance!

This is incorrect, it might be told to us. It might have been told to someone in the past who wrote it down. — Punshhh

But in that case it could not have been what was intended or conveyed by his life or the lives of others in his time. The meaning of our lives is bounded by our lives; it was so bounded for those who lived in the past, and will be so bounded by those who live in the future, if we have recourse to a dictionary.

Dictionaries don't define words, they circumlocute them... they defer, to different words. — Wosret

Except in limited cases, I know of no other way to define them.

Perhaps he was referring to them when he said, "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent!" I always interpreted him myself as meaning that some jokes should never be repeated, while others should never be told the first time, but you never know.

Dictionaries are great references, but words only have demonstrable meaning in specific context. If it were otherwise we'd have some sort of clear system we could use to choose which specific definition works best for any particular thing we wish to communicate. Something Wittgenstein understood and which contradicts categorization. Hence, the reason many find his philosophy incomprehensible and claim he was a mystic, while others complain his philosophy is like reading an auto-repair manual. Personally, I think its just more dry, dry, dry academic humor and, on his deathbed, his last regret was not formulating it as a comedy. — wuliheron

I thought he asked the person who was there to tell his friends he had a good life.

Dictionaries, though, or at least good ones, attempt to account for context by giving examples of use and alternate definitions. Unless we maintain that circumstances of use of a particular word are always significantly dissimilar, which would seem to be to maintain effective communication is impossible or sporadic, that's about the best we can do at least as far as "ordinary language" is concerned. So I think it's useful to consult a dictionary particularly where issues like "the meaning of life" are being addressed. At the least, we can learn whether what we are addressing bears any relation to the common use or some common uses of the words we're using. That provides clarification if nothing more.

The common dictionary merely contains the most popular definitions of words listed according to their popularity. Philosophy by popular consensus is a new one on me. The story goes that when Wittgenstein was asked the meaning of meaning he quipped, "What do you mean by what is the meaning of meaning?" — wuliheron

I would have hoped he would at least have said something witty about Ogden and Richards.

I wonder, though, what you intend to convey by referring to "merely" the "most popular definition of words." Is the most unpopular definition better, or greater, in some fashion? Is the popular definition the wrong definition? How unfortunate it is, then, that we have dictionaries. Where do I find the appropriate definition of words?