Epicureanism
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The flipside of this attitude is that other philosophical positions are regarded as not merely mistaken but pernicious. Epicurean texts are filled with invective and abuse towards other philosophers. The Epicureans are far from unique in this regard, but they do stand out as particularly vitriolic.5 The goal of Epicurean pedagogy is not to give a full, fair and sympathetic hearing toward other philosophers, but to equip students with the arguments and attitudes they need in order to reject destructive falsehood and embrace healing truth. The contrast with thinkers such as Aristotle and Cicero is instructive. Cicero, for example, often expresses his own contempt for Epicureanism. Still, as a self-professed Academic and follower of Socrates, Cicero believes he must give the case for the philosophical positions of Epicureans and others as best he can, setting up the arguments pro and contra, so that his readers can come to their own good-faith evaluations of which position is the most plausible. Such open-minded exploration of the arguments is constitutive of the philosophical enterprise.6
Epicurus thinks that all people, young and old, need correct philosophy to produce psychic health and happiness (Ep. Men. 122), and Epicurus was notably egalitarian in admitting women and slaves to his school. But not all people are ready or able to follow the detailed arguments that establish the truth of Epicureanism, so correct philosophy must be delivered to them by other means. At the start of the Letter to Herodotus, Epicurus states that he wrote the summary of the main points of his physics for people who are unable to work through the details of his arguments for these conclusions, and he encourages firm memorization of the most general doctrines. A similar goal is served by producing a list of the Principal Doctrines: short statements of the main points to remember.
The Epicureans are probably correct that techniques such as reverence of a saviour figure, scorn of outsiders and memorization of key doctrines are effective means for promoting orthodoxy. But they provoked the scorn of high-minded critics such as Arcesilaus, who turned the Academy in a sceptical direction shortly after Epicurus’ death. When asked why other philosophical schools regularly lost followers to the Epicureans, whereas Epicureans never went over to other schools, he cracked that men can become eunuchs, but eunuchs can never become men (DL IV 43).
FOURTEEN
Justice
Epicurus develops an innovative social contract theory of justice. Justice is a human invention, which comes into existence when we gather together to form communities and agree not to harm one another. Apart from such an agreement, there is no justice. The particulars of what is just depend on the content of the agreement that we make with one another, and justice is thus relative from place to place and time to time. This, however, does not make justice “merely” conventional or relative in a way that undermines its authority or gives the wise person any reason to be unjust. Epicurus strives to repair problems afflicting earlier versions of a social contract theory, such as that advanced by Glaucon in book two of Plato’s Republic. Still, despite his defence of justice, Epicurus advocates a life that avoids political engagement.
Epicurean contractarianism and its implications
The “justice of nature” is an agreement not to harm one another, which is useful for the parties to the agreement (KD 31). Human beings form societies in order to escape the dangers of living in a pre-social state of nature, such as starvation, death from exposure to the elements and animal attacks (DRN V 982–1028). Agreeing to cooperate with one another in order to protect ourselves from such dangers is beneficial to everybody. But in order to have a functioning society, in which the members are able to live free of fear, we need to have agreements about how to treat one another. For instance, worrying about somebody hitting me with a baseball bat in order to take my food as I exit a shop would get in the way of my happiness, as would actually being hit on the head with the bat, and so we prohibit assault.
Where there is such an agreement about how to behave, actions can be just or unjust, according to whether they conform to or violate the agreement. When I drive on the right-hand side of the road in Atlanta, I am behaving justly, whereas the person who viciously tries to hit me in order to grab my bananas is behaving unjustly. Apart from such an actually obtaining social agreement, however, there is no justice. In a clear swipe at thinkers such as Plato, Epicurus denies that justice exists per se; instead, its existence is parasitic on the existence of agreements (KD 33).
Epicurus is not shy about drawing out the implications of this theory (KD 32). There is no justice (or injustice) with respect to animals that cannot make an agreement about not harming one another. So if we pack tens of thousands of chickens together in horrible surroundings, pump them full of antibiotics in order to prevent disease and then debeak them so that they will be less likely to mutilate one another despite being driven mad by their living conditions, we are not doing anything unjust to the chickens. (If the concept of natural rights were explained to him, Epicurus would probably agree with Bentham that it is nonsense on stilts.) And if a pride of lions was preying on our village, it would be nice if we could talk to the lions and say to them, “Please don’t hurt us, and we will not hurt you. Why not confine your hunting to the gazelles instead?” But as the lions cannot reply to our entreaties and agree to refrain from preying on us, we will simply wipe them out instead to protect ourselves, and there is nothing unjust in doing so (Porph. Abst. I.12.5–6, LS 22N).1 Likewise, if one nation invades and conquers another simply for the sake of national glory, and there is no non-aggression treaty or framework of international law that the invasion violates, then the invasion is not unjust (or just).
Still, we need to be careful not to overstate these implications. “Just” and “unjust” do not exhaust the universe of ethical appraisal; actions can be foolish or vicious without being unjust. So, for example, while the lion slaughter would be condoned by Epicureans, the factory-farming of the chickens would be condemned, not because it violates chicken-rights, but because of the environmental degradation caused by the practice and the harmful effects of eating meat on one’s health (Porph. Abst. I.44.2–I.55.4). And aggressive wars spurred by a desire for glory are a stupid negative-sum practice, spreading destruction and suffering for everyone involved for no good reason. Even if they are not unjust, they should be avoided, and enlightened legislators should seek to institute a framework of treaties and international law in order to render such wars unjust and lessen their likelihood.
Another implication of Epicurean contractarianism that Epicurus does not shy away from is that it entails a form of relativism. The exact form the social contract takes can vary from place to place, so the same things need not be just for everyone (KD 36). Let us imagine a small island society that is heavily dependant on fishing for its food. This society may ban catching and keeping fish below a certain length, to ensure that the stocks not be depleted. Catching and keeping a nine-inch-long haddock would be unjust for a member of that society, whereas it would be just for a person fishing in a society without such a prohibition.
Still, this form of relativism is fairly modest. It does not imply that the standards of justice are entirely determined by the laws of a society, or by the opinions of that society’s members about what is just. There is an objective standard we can use to evaluate the laws and agreements of a society: whether they are useful. The basic conception of justice is that justice is what is useful for the needs of living with one another (KD 37). Laws that do not meet this standard are not just laws. For example, laws against assault will almost certainly be useful, but anti-miscegenation laws (laws banning interracial sex and/or marriage) would not be. So, generally speaking, what will be just is the same, in so far as what is useful for people living together – such as prohibiting assault – is the same. But this allows for a fair amount of variation from place to place and time to time, including laws that were just at one point no longer being just after they become outmoded (KD 37–8).
This objective standard for evaluating the justice of laws and agreements
is not inconsistent with Epicurus’ metaphysics or his contractarianism. Justice does not exist per se. Instead, we bring it into existence through our agreements about how to behave when we form societies. Thus, we can rightly view justice as a sort of artefact. However, this does not make justice “artificial”, in the sense of being arbitrary or unnatural. Epicurus strikingly asserts that the justice of nature is an agreement; that is, justice is both a human invention and natural. That is because human beings are rational beings, and so they naturally make such agreements for the sake of living together peaceably and securing their mutual advantage. Since the agreements we make are supposed to serve a purpose (as with other artefacts), we have a standard whereby to evaluate the agreements: whether they successfully fulfil their purpose.
Free riders and the Ring of Gyges
Even if we admit that justice is generally useful, this still leaves open the question of why I should be just. In book two of Plato’s Republic, Glaucon and Adeimantus describe a social contract theory of justice that resembles Epicurus’ in many respects. But because on this theory justice is good only because of its consequences, they conclude that there will be times when the rationally self-interested person would do what is unjust. Epicurus wishes to avoid this conclusion.
Before moving on to the Republic, however, it will be useful to first discuss the “free rider problem”. Let us imagine a case in which a collective action is to the benefit of each of the individual members of the group. For instance, I may be one of a group of shepherds. We have a common meadow for our sheep to graze in. If we allow our sheep to graze for hours and hours each day, the meadow will become overgrazed, which will hurt our flocks. On the other hand, allowing each of our flocks to graze for one hour every day would be enough to feed our sheep while having the meadow flourish and sustain our flocks in the long run. So as a rationally self-interested shepherd, it seems, I would endorse the cooperative scheme of limiting our grazing times, as I would be better off under it than I would be under the unlimited grazing regime.
But this leads directly to the free rider problem. Suppose that I have the opportunity to sneak my sheep on to the meadow at night and fatten them up, outside my scheduled time. Then, it seems, I should take advantage of the opportunity and violate the agreement, thereby becoming a “free rider”. After all, as long as everybody else adheres to the agreement, I still get the benefit of the meadow remaining healthy – my own small violation will not be enough on its own to ruin the meadow – while also getting the benefit of the extra time and the fatter, healthier sheep. But if every rationally self-interested shepherd engages in the same sort of calculation, then the cooperative scheme soon collapses. The individual pursuit of self-interest leads collectively to a sub-optimal result.
Two sorts of common responses to this problem would not be available to Epicurus. The first is that, having given my consent to the agreement, it would be morally wrong for me to cheat. But Epicurus says that injustice is not bad per se, but bad only because of its consequences, and the idea of a moral constraint on one’s behaviour divorced from considerations of self-interest would be profoundly foreign to the whole Epicurean way of thinking about what one should do. The second, Kantian, response is that it would be inconsistent and irrational for me to expect all of the other members of my group to adhere to an agreement while exempting myself from that requirement. But even though Epicurus emphasizes that the wise person recognizes the general usefulness of justice and that this recognition gives him a reason to be just, Epicurean ethics is fundamentally a matter of me deciding what to do based on what is in my interest. My decision might be different if I were legislating for all people and were required to apply to myself the same standards I apply to others, but that is not the situation that I find myself in, unfortunately.
To prevent free-riding and preserve the benefits of cooperation, what we need is an enforcement mechanism: punishment for those who defect from the agreement. So we do not simply voluntarily agree to limit our grazing time and set a schedule. Instead, we hire a group of guards to watch over the meadow, who are charged to use their truncheons to beat anybody who tries to sneak on to the meadow outside his scheduled time and to leave him there as a warning to others. As a rationally self-interested individual, I agree to this enforcement mechanism, in order to keep people like me from cheating.
But if my only reason for adhering to the agreement is that I will be punished if I am caught breaking the agreement, then it seems I would break the agreement when I am certain of getting away with the violation. This is precisely the conclusion that Glaucon draws in his famous story of the Ring of Gyges, a ring that allows its wearer to become invisible at will. Glaucon describes a nasty state of nature, which individuals escape by forming a society and agreeing not to hurt one another. This agreement is the origin of justice, and society institutes punishments to enforce justice. But any person with the ring would act unjustly and would be right to do so: he would kill the king, seize his throne, sleep with his wife and enrich himself.
Epicurus has a two-pronged response to try to avoid this unsavoury conclusion. First, he agrees with Glaucon that injustice is not bad per se, but only because of punishment and the fear of punishment (KD 34). The fear of punishment, however, plays a huge role here. Even if you “get away” with your injustice, you can never be certain that at some point in the future you will not get caught, so you still suffer bad consequences from committing injustice (KD 35). And because tranquillity is the main constituent of the happy life for Epicurus, having to live in fear of punishment is reason enough never to break the law: it is not worth it. Glaucon might insist that it is part of his thought experiment that you can be 100 per cent sure that you will never be caught, so that Epicurus’ reply is beside the point. But Epicurus is profoundly hostile to doing ethics via this sort of thought experiment. He is the sort of annoying fellow who would reply that even if you found the Ring of Gyges, you would still have to worry that perhaps it has been planted by a nefarious government agency with a microchip embedded in it, or that it is powered by a tiny battery that could give out just as you are sneaking into the king’s bedchambers.
Secondly, and more importantly, Epicurus disagrees with Glaucon on the benefits of injustice. For Glaucon, neither suffering nor committing injustice is a second best. It is better than both suffering and committing injustice, but not as good as being able to commit injustice while not suffering it (Rep. 358e–359b). But Epicurus says that the laws exist for the sake of the wise, not so that they will not commit injustice, but so that they will not suffer it (Stob. Anthology 4.143, IG I-154). The wise Epicurean knows he has no need for wealth or luxury goods, and he is not troubled by resentment or hatred. So he would have no motive to harm others in any case (DL X 117). The fear of punishment is needed only to keep fools in line. A community of wise Epicureans would be full of justice, but it would have no need of laws and punishments.2
The wise Epicurean has the virtue of justice: a disposition to behave justly (that is, to adhere to the agreement neither to harm nor be harmed) and to do so for the right reason (that is, because he recognizes the general usefulness of the agreement for promoting the ataraxia of his community and of himself, and because he has no temptation to break the agreement anyway, and not merely because of the fear of punishment). As with the other virtues, one cannot live pleasantly without living justly (Ep. Men. 132; KD 5).
Epicureans and the political life
Although the wise Epicurean will be just, he will avoid getting involved in the business of politics (DL X 119; SV 58). The justification for this is straightforward: engagement with the hurly-burly of politics is risky and a bad strategy for achieving tranquillity. Epicurus writes that the “natural good” of things such as political office, power and fame is security from other people (KD 6–7). But even though power and wealth provide some security from others, a quiet life and withdrawal from the many are much more effective means (KD 14; DRN V 1117–35).3
; So it may seem that the Epicurean is, after all, a sort of free-rider. While it is necessary to have people engage in civic life, to craft laws well for the sake of ensuring the smooth functioning of society, the wise Epicurean is content to leave that hard and troublesome work to others while reaping the rewards. Epicurean principles would provide good grounds for criticizing existing laws as not being just, because they are not useful. But it is far from clear that an Epicurean would work to overturn such laws rather than simply trying to hide away in order not to be disturbed by them. Furthermore, the same grounds that the wise Epicurean has for not acting unjustly – punishment and the fear of punishment – would also give him reason not to break laws that are not just. For instance, the Epicurean Metrodorus counsels against engaging in sex in ways that breaks the law or disturbs conventions (SV 51). Now, Metrodorus does speak of the conventions being “proper and well-established” ones, but the wise Epicurean living in Virginia in the 1950s, it seems, would be better off simply going along with anti-miscegenation laws, as he has little to gain and much to lose by breaking them, even though they are not just.
The Epicureans do not withdraw entirely from society, however. Instead, the Garden and other Epicurean communities operate as best they can as part of the larger non-Epicurean society. Within the Epicurean communities, the members strive to perfectly embody the principles of Epicureanism, especially its views on justice. By providing a model of rational and tranquil community life, and by engaging in the activity of proselytizing others to join this community, Epicureans can serve as a catalyst for social reform even without engaging directly in the irksome business of politics.