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Featuring thinkers such as Theodoros ‘the Godless’, Hegesias ‘the Death-Persuader’ and Aristippos the Elder a.k.a. ‘the Royal Dog’, the Cyrenaics have always been the most vilified and neglected among the many philosophical schools of the Hellenistic age. Initiated almost informally by Aristippos the Elder, one of the companions of Socrates, the Cyrenaic school found its structure only two generations later at the hands of Aristippos’ grandchild, Aristippos the Younger. Unlike the majority of philosophical movements of the time, which sprung mostly in Athens or in the coastal part of modern Turkey, the Cyrenaics take their name from the North-Eastern area of today’s Libya. Perhaps because of their distance from the increasing dogmatism of Platonic/Aristotelian Greece, the Cyrenaics promoted a sophisticated form of ultra-hedonism which sounds remarkably free and audacious even to our postmodern ears.

 

 

In the following pages, I will examine some of the central concepts of the Cyrenaic school of philosophy, especially highlighting those aspects which could help us towards a strategy of individual emancipation that I elsewhere defined as ‘squandering’ and ‘disrespectful opportunism’^[1].

 

Sadly most of the original writing produced by Cyrenaic thinkers has been lost, and any attempt at modern scholarship has to rely on – typically disparaging and imprecise – second-hand accounts and on very sparse fragmentary sources. In addition to these, I will use the recent work of perhaps the first Cyrenaic philosopher to appear after many centuries, the Italian scholar Ugo Zilioli^[2].

 

To be whitened by colourless walls

 

Similarly to many other schools of the same age, the Cyrenaics focused their philosophical work on ethics, that is, on the question of how to live a ‘good’ life. However, differently from most other schools – perhaps with only exception of Cynicism – they made ethics their only real concern, explicitly refusing to explore anything outside of the ethical investigation. And yet, such a decision originated from a precise theory about the relationship between the issue of the existence of the external world (ontology) and the way in which humans can apprehend it (epistemology and phenomenology). In other words, like proficient painters, by drawing ‘negatively’ all around the issues which are external to ethics, the Cyrenaics provided such a deep insight into those matters that it pre-announced, centuries in advance, the intuitions of thinkers such as Spinoza and Wittgenstein.

 

The Cyrenaics’ focus on ethics derived from their conviction of the impossibility of the human mind to say anything true about the outside world. All that humans can say is limited to their own perceptions, while the nature of what originated those perceptions escapes them completely. For example, upon being burnt by fire, a Cyrenaic philosopher would be able to say that s/he was burn, but s/he wouldn’t be able to say with certainty by what.^[3] They developed this understanding to the point of creating a whole new vocabulary around it: as they looked at a white wall, for instance, Cyrenaic thinkers would not be able to say wether the wall was truly white, but they would limit themselves to stating that they had been ‘whitened’ by the wall^[4]. Outside of our perceptions – says Ugo Zilioli, almost reminiscent of Fernando Pessoa’s heteronym Alberto Caeiro – the world sprawls without names or essences as one, uninterrupted flow with ‘no inside’^[5].

 

Despite the eccentricity of their claims and of their language, such a position bears immediate consequences in terms of both individual and social life. If all I can claim about a thing external to myself is how it affects me, while remaining unable to say anything essential about the thing itself, then I will never be in the position of producing grand statements about the ‘superior’ or ‘inferior’ nature of one group, class, ethnicity, nationality or gender against all others. What you truly are, I don’t know, and perhaps not even you know: all that humans can know is how they actually affect each other, and on this basis alone they can and should negotiate their relationships. One only has to apply this claim to any of the most dividing debates of the 20th and 21st century (from homophobia to sexism, racism, etc) to understand the emancipatory potential of such a position.

 

Pleasure now!

 

Considering that all we can possibly know is how we are affected by external things or by others, it is no surprise that the Cyrenaics proposed a philosophy which saw pleasure and pain as the two most important categories, and pleasure as the ultimate end. However, differently from a thinker such as Epicurus – according to whom real pleasure only consists in the absence of pain – the pleasures discussed by the Cyrenaics were of a very sensuous and dynamic type. In line with their idea of the world as a constant flow, the Cyrenaics understood human affections as a continuous motion, variously defined as pain (a rough motion ‘which may be compared to a storm at sea’), an intermediate state of quiet (‘comparable to a calm sea’), and pleasure (a smooth motion ‘which may be compared to a gentle rocking of the waves’)^[6]. According to the Cyrenaics, such painful or pleasurable motions happen as though without past or future: all that really counts is the pleasure or pain of the present moment. Almost echoing the voice of the young Louise-Fedinand Celine, fighting for his life in the great idealist massacre of WWI^[7], the Cyrenaics refused the traditional threats and future promises of all types of great narrations, while asserting the absolute primacy of their individual mortal life, with its potential and its limits. If early Christianity – yet to come at the time of the Cyrenaics – made its way through the many competing schools of antiquity on the basis of its promise of reincarnation, thinkers such as Artistippos preferred to ground their scepticism in a sound understanding of our condition as mortal individuals, affected by pain and pleasure. Perhaps less wittingly than the anti-militarist mercenary soldier and poet Archilocus^[8], but certainly with equal disregard for the patriotism that poisoned their times as much as it poisons ours, Theodoros simply stated that ‘it is unreasonable for the wise man to risk his life for his country’^[9].

 

During the short time which is allowed to us on this Earth, continued Theodoros, we have to pursue pleasure by any means necessary. Even ‘theft, adultery, and sacrilege are justifiable on occasion, if one puts aside the common opinion that is held about them, which is merely designed to keep fools in check.’^[10] When pleasure is no longer a possibility, claimed Hegesias, one might be entitled to give up his/her life, and choose death instead^[11]. With good peace of today’s Christian campaigners against euthanasia, Hegesias explained this point so convincingly that he earned for himself the nickname of ‘death-persuader’, and was forbidden by the king Ptolemy to ever discuss his ideas on death in public, due to the many cases of suicides that were caused by his lectures.

 

Utilitarian opportunism

 

It was perhaps because of his unafraid outlook on death, that Hegesias developed an exceptionally strong focus on the pleasures of the living individual, in a manner which both anticipates and goes far beyond the pseudo-individualism of most contemporary utilitarian thinkers. It almost seems to hear the German philosopher Max Stirner^[12] speaking, when Hegesias claimed that ‘the wise man does everything for the sake of his own personal interest, because he thinks that no one else is of equal value to himself; for even if he could reap the greatest benefits from another person, these would not measure up to those that he could provide for himself.’^[13]

 

Hegesias’ stress on the self-sufficiency of the wise person runs parallel to similar claims proposed by the Cynics and Stoics alike, yet he surpasses them both in explicitly accepting luxury as a legitimate source of enjoyment. The self-sufficient, wise person is always capable of making do with whatever fate reserves to him/her – as Antipatros said to those who condoled him over his blindness, ‘Why trouble yourselves? Do you suppose the night does not bring pleasures of its own?’ – yet s/he is equally capable to enjoy luxury whenever it is at hand. Although Cyrenaic philosophers gained a bad reputation by part-taking of the extravagances of the courts of tyrants such as Dionysus, they always did so with a remarkable mixture of non-attachment and ruthless opportunism. As Aristippos once replied to Dionysus’ question on why philosophers come to rich men’s doors, while the rich do not come to those of philosophers, ‘[it is] because philosophers know what they have need of, while the rich do not.’^[14] Like those Autonomists who in 1970s Bologna started the ultra-leftist ‘Aristocratic Movement, fighting against mere survival’^[15], the Cyrenaics refused the Franciscan love of poverty in favour of a truly hedonistic love of all the joys of life.

 

What really counts – regardless of the setting, of the time and place – is that a wise person proves him/herself capable of adapting him/herself to any circumstances, and to bend them to his/her own advantage. One could even claim, as Aristippos does, that such adaptability is the true mark of the philosopher: if one wishes to see in practice the difference between a wise and an unwise person, one only has to ‘send them both naked among strangers, and then you will know.’^[16]

In a manner which resembles that of chameleonic Jesuits such as Matteo Ricci or of the mercenary Condottieri of the Italian Renaissance, Aristippos condensed his belief in the relationship between wisdom and adaptability by stating that what philosophy had ultimately taught him was ‘to be able to associate without fear with all whom I encounter.’^[17]

 

Women beyond gender

 

The Cyrenaics’ willingness to associate without fear with all people, went so far to include even that huge segment of humanity which so seldom is included in traditional Greek philosophy: women. The shock at the inclusion of women at the very core of Cyrenaic philosophy – much more so than in the case of Epicureanism – is clearly expressed by the legend that later commentators built around the role of Arete in the foundation of the Cyrenaic school. According to later, dubious accounts, Aristippos the eldest decided to teach philosophy to his daughter Arete only because of the degeneracy of his son, whom he banished from his house. In reality, Arete proved her proficiency as a philosopher, not only by learning the teachings of her father, but also by educating her own son, Aristippus the younger – the person who later systematised Cyrenaic thought – so profoundly that he became later know as ‘the mother-taught.’ As Theodoros remarked – in a way the revolutionary impact of which is perhaps hard to fully grasp today – people are to be judged only according to their abilities, and regardless of their gender: ‘a woman who is expert in grammar is useful in so far as she is expert in grammar.’^[18]

 

Yet, the respectable daughter and mother Arete or the proficient woman grammarian are by no means the only female protagonists of Cyrenaic philosophy. Aristippos the elder was renowned – or infamous – for consorting often with prostitutes, associating so closely with one in particular, Lais, that the two of them became a couple. In a fashion which is typical of Cyrenaic anti-moralism and disregard for the stifling social conventions, Aristippos proudly stated that he didn’t care if Lais had other lovers or if she worked as a prostitute. All that really counts in the interaction between people is the pleasure they can give to each other – a view which Aristippos explained to the Cynic Diogenes in cold utilitarian terms: ‘Does it by any chance seem improper to you, Diogenes, to live in a house where others have lived? [...] Or to sail in a ship in which many others have sailed? [...] So neither is there anything improper in living with a woman with whom many others have previously slept.’^[19]

 

Anarchist freedom

 

If the Cyrenaics really made a distinction between people, this was never grounded in conventional labels such as class, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, nationality, social status and so on. People can be judged only on the basis of their ability to be wise, that is, to be in control of their own life within the limits of their potential: in other words, on the basis of their freedom.

 

Such was the Cyrenaic view of the relationship between humans and pleasures: ‘the man who masters pleasure is not the one who abstains from it, but the one who enjoys it without allowing himself to be carried away by it,’^[20] ‘for the best thing is to master pleasures without becoming subjected by them.’^[21] Despite their reputation as dissolute individuals, the ultra-hedonism proposed by Cyrenaic philosophers is strikingly different from – and by far more truly joyous than – the pseudo-hedonism of contemporary excess culture. While both contemporary ‘countercultural’ and capitalist voices promote an idea of fun and enjoyment which revolves around one’s complete subjection to external influences such as alcohol and drugs, the Cyrenaics never forgot the fundamental role played by constant self-control in the attainment of a pleasant life.

 

The relationship between wisdom, self-control and freedom was at the very centre of Cyrenaic philosophy. When the father of one of his students reproached him for asking a fee high enough to buy a slave, Aristippos replied, ‘so go off and buy one, and then you’ll have two.’^[22] Regardless of the social conventions which classify some as free and some as slaves, Cyrenaic philosophers reclaimed the possibility of seeking freedom outside of socially enforced power-relationships. Cyrenaic freedom enjoys the range of possibilities allowed by pleasure and wealth, yet it is able to retain a nobility which is autonomous and independent from either. In this regard, as in many others, Cyrenaic philosophy sounds very close to the most advanced positions of what we call today anarcho-individualism, as developed along the line traced by thinkers such as Max Stirner. Freedom, as the Cyrenaics teach us, is not to be sought in the reversal of the power structure, and in the enslavement of our masters, but rather in the daily practice of egalitarian relationships between all people, developing into a form of society which is entirely centred in the exchange of pleasure between its members.

 

‘I would not dream of classing myself among those who aspire to rule’ – said Aristippos to Socrates, – ‘[and] I wouldn’t class myself among the slaves either, but it seems to me that there is a middle path which I try to follow, which leads neither through rule nor through slavery, but through freedom. And this is the road that leads most surely to happiness.’^[23]