I'm usually on board with Epicurus, but here I'm dismayed by his take that science is about quelling anxiety. Perhaps it's a product of the culture of his time, where the effects of such as heavenly bodies were a matter of concern. Of course apprehension about the meaning and effects of death will always be with us, though modern science makes no claim at a solution to those anxieties. If anything, to the extent that theology has been crammed into a corner, stripped of explanatory power as to the events of the physical world, the anxiety might well be potentiated by knowledge of humans' cosmic insignificance.
I don't see comfort in knowing about thunder. We can still be struck by lightning whether or not it comes from Jove or from charge separation in the atmosphere. In that way, science is akin to the more brutal theologies. Its explanations provide nothing like comfort. Knowing that death is final doesn't make me, at least, any less anxious than I would be if I believed in Hellfire. My existence is all I possess, and that it ends one way rather than another provides nothing like salve for the loss of it.
But the absence of curiosity as motive puzzles me. What other point is there to such as mathematics or cosmology but to satisfy our appetites to know more? For some of us, perhaps the sense that there will be no end to searching induces vertigo. For me it's quite the opposite. Who wants anything but the endless horizons appearing when we climb the peaks of current knowledge and thus see the full expanse of our ignorance?
Brian, I hear you, especially as a scientist. But I’m also intrigued by what Epicurus is saying here.
> Perhaps it's a product of the culture of his time, where the effects of such as heavenly bodies were a matter of concern <
That explains the specific examples, but does not account for the general idea. I do agree with Epicurus that knowledge quells anxiety. “At least now we know” is something we still say today. Even if something is inevitable and unwelcome, knowing its nature helps us being at peace with it. Mystery is unsettling, because it conjures imaginary forces and outcomes that may be worse and more nefarious than the real ones.
> modern science makes no claim at a solution to those anxieties <
Science doesn’t make that claim, but it is a matter of human psychology that knowledge, including scientific knowledge, often has that effect.
> I don't see comfort in knowing about thunder. We can still be struck by lightning whether or not it comes from Jove or from charge separation in the atmosphere <
But if I know the nature of thunder I also have knowledge that may help me avoid its effects. If it’s a good who wants to strike me I have no recourse, he will get me, eventually.
> Knowing that death is final doesn't make me, at least, any less anxious than I would be if I believed in Hellfire. <
It helps me. Hellfire means eternal torment and damnation, a far worse outcome, I think, than simply slipping into the same kind of unconsciousness from which I was born.
> the absence of curiosity as motive puzzles me. What other point is there to such as mathematics or cosmology but to satisfy our appetites to know more? <
Again, I hear you. But one could just as reasonably ask: what is the point of curiosity if it doesn’t help us?
I have a lot to say in reply, but since my main point was my last one, I'll leave it for the moment with this.
I believe curiosity has a point, but it's not to help us in the sense I believe you mean it. Curiosity is an evolved trait, and not one confined to humans, or even primates. In that sense, what knowledge is gained as a result is mostly useful, except in the case of one killed cat.
But we humans have made curiosity into a sort of appetite, or better still a reflex since it feels to me like scratching an itch. The thirst to know, at least in my case, (N=1, I know) has no conscious basis in a desire for comfort. It's not really comforting to know our insignificance, and I needn't have known that so securely without my curious perusal of, say, Darwin and Hawking. The satisfaction that comes from playing with a mechanism until you find out what makes it tick or putting a bit of soil under a strong hand lens has little to do with any fear.
All this to say is that some of the most pleasing curiosity-motivated scratching is manifestly idle rather than productive. It is a pleasure I'd not willingly forego. I won't say that it's pointless any more than non-procreative sex is pointless.
I believe I'd like you to take up the matter of curiosity in one of your prompts. Perhaps the ancients have already spoken on this one.
Brian, right, but the two approaches are not really mutually exclusive. One can be curious in the way you articulate and at the same time find knowledge of certain aspects of reality to be psychologically reassuring.
Here's an anecdote on what must be a paradigmatic case of "idle curiosity".
The polymath al-Burumi, blind and on his deathbed is said to have consulted an Afghan scholar upon a point of contract law. When that scholar expressed surprise at his curiosity at such a moment, al-Buruni is said to have responded, "Is it not better for me to leave this world knowing the answer to this question than not knowing it?
Source: A review of a book on Ibn Sina and al-Buruni in the 10 Oct issue of London Review of Books.
With all due respect to al-Barumi: no, he wasn’t going to be better off knowing the answer, since he wasn’t about to die and that knowledge had no actual application. Besides, he could have asked a million other questions instead.
I'm usually on board with Epicurus, but here I'm dismayed by his take that science is about quelling anxiety. Perhaps it's a product of the culture of his time, where the effects of such as heavenly bodies were a matter of concern. Of course apprehension about the meaning and effects of death will always be with us, though modern science makes no claim at a solution to those anxieties. If anything, to the extent that theology has been crammed into a corner, stripped of explanatory power as to the events of the physical world, the anxiety might well be potentiated by knowledge of humans' cosmic insignificance.
I don't see comfort in knowing about thunder. We can still be struck by lightning whether or not it comes from Jove or from charge separation in the atmosphere. In that way, science is akin to the more brutal theologies. Its explanations provide nothing like comfort. Knowing that death is final doesn't make me, at least, any less anxious than I would be if I believed in Hellfire. My existence is all I possess, and that it ends one way rather than another provides nothing like salve for the loss of it.
But the absence of curiosity as motive puzzles me. What other point is there to such as mathematics or cosmology but to satisfy our appetites to know more? For some of us, perhaps the sense that there will be no end to searching induces vertigo. For me it's quite the opposite. Who wants anything but the endless horizons appearing when we climb the peaks of current knowledge and thus see the full expanse of our ignorance?
Brian, I hear you, especially as a scientist. But I’m also intrigued by what Epicurus is saying here.
> Perhaps it's a product of the culture of his time, where the effects of such as heavenly bodies were a matter of concern <
That explains the specific examples, but does not account for the general idea. I do agree with Epicurus that knowledge quells anxiety. “At least now we know” is something we still say today. Even if something is inevitable and unwelcome, knowing its nature helps us being at peace with it. Mystery is unsettling, because it conjures imaginary forces and outcomes that may be worse and more nefarious than the real ones.
> modern science makes no claim at a solution to those anxieties <
Science doesn’t make that claim, but it is a matter of human psychology that knowledge, including scientific knowledge, often has that effect.
> I don't see comfort in knowing about thunder. We can still be struck by lightning whether or not it comes from Jove or from charge separation in the atmosphere <
But if I know the nature of thunder I also have knowledge that may help me avoid its effects. If it’s a good who wants to strike me I have no recourse, he will get me, eventually.
> Knowing that death is final doesn't make me, at least, any less anxious than I would be if I believed in Hellfire. <
It helps me. Hellfire means eternal torment and damnation, a far worse outcome, I think, than simply slipping into the same kind of unconsciousness from which I was born.
> the absence of curiosity as motive puzzles me. What other point is there to such as mathematics or cosmology but to satisfy our appetites to know more? <
Again, I hear you. But one could just as reasonably ask: what is the point of curiosity if it doesn’t help us?
I have a lot to say in reply, but since my main point was my last one, I'll leave it for the moment with this.
I believe curiosity has a point, but it's not to help us in the sense I believe you mean it. Curiosity is an evolved trait, and not one confined to humans, or even primates. In that sense, what knowledge is gained as a result is mostly useful, except in the case of one killed cat.
But we humans have made curiosity into a sort of appetite, or better still a reflex since it feels to me like scratching an itch. The thirst to know, at least in my case, (N=1, I know) has no conscious basis in a desire for comfort. It's not really comforting to know our insignificance, and I needn't have known that so securely without my curious perusal of, say, Darwin and Hawking. The satisfaction that comes from playing with a mechanism until you find out what makes it tick or putting a bit of soil under a strong hand lens has little to do with any fear.
All this to say is that some of the most pleasing curiosity-motivated scratching is manifestly idle rather than productive. It is a pleasure I'd not willingly forego. I won't say that it's pointless any more than non-procreative sex is pointless.
I believe I'd like you to take up the matter of curiosity in one of your prompts. Perhaps the ancients have already spoken on this one.
Brian, right, but the two approaches are not really mutually exclusive. One can be curious in the way you articulate and at the same time find knowledge of certain aspects of reality to be psychologically reassuring.
Here's an anecdote on what must be a paradigmatic case of "idle curiosity".
The polymath al-Burumi, blind and on his deathbed is said to have consulted an Afghan scholar upon a point of contract law. When that scholar expressed surprise at his curiosity at such a moment, al-Buruni is said to have responded, "Is it not better for me to leave this world knowing the answer to this question than not knowing it?
Source: A review of a book on Ibn Sina and al-Buruni in the 10 Oct issue of London Review of Books.
With all due respect to al-Barumi: no, he wasn’t going to be better off knowing the answer, since he wasn’t about to die and that knowledge had no actual application. Besides, he could have asked a million other questions instead.
Any other question would have been as useless. To me the anecdote is charming. YMMV