When I was a student, I found the names of the Hellenistic philosophers beguiling: Stoics, Epicureans, Sceptics and Cynics. I suppose I put Stoics and Epicureans into a boring bracket, to be taken out later, if necessary. (Scholars still engage in amusing dispute about whether this or that 18th century thinker was a Stoic, or an Epicurean, or both, or neither.) But the words “Sceptic” and “Cynic” were great: both ordinary words in English for someone with critical insight, and yet also Greek words for philosophical schools. When I went to Athens aged 19 I had enough money to buy only one statuette of a Greek philosopher. I ignored Socrates, Plato and Aristotle and bought Diogenes – the philosopher I increasingly resemble in body – Diogenes the Cynic.
I read Russell’s History of Western Philosophy at the time, but, for some reason, it has required decades of turning and returning to these subjects to acquire my own sense of what distinguishes sceptic from cynic. I doubt I would have recognised the name of Pyrrho or that of Sextus Empiricus, the great Sceptics, when I was young. It was 20 years before I had reason to think seriously about scepticism. Now the way I think about it is this.
Scepticism is what we might call a hermeneutic, a critical trick. It requires us to do something very simple, which is to doubt everything one hears on the basis that the opposite might be true. Someone says: here is a hypothesis. Some scientists have found evidence for it. (Paid to do so, probably.) So we say: Go and find an equal and opposite hypothesis. (And pay someone to find evidence for it.) The Greek Sceptics were the philosophers who found, again and again, that everything questionable could only be as true as it was untrue, or as true as its opposite was true. They did not disdain the search for truth: they refused to be dogmatically sceptical, in the sense of rejecting every hypothesis. On the contrary, they considered every hypothesis, also its opposite. At one level, they were irritating casuists – and, for this, read Sextus Empiricus. But at another level they sought ataraxia, or tranquility: and they thought this came from not believing in the rubbish told to them by scholars, experts, busybodies, SAGE.
Scepticism is very useful. But no one can be a sceptic universally, except as a sort of dandy display of independence: going down every rabbit hole just for fun. Most sceptics, in practice, have been reasonably practical men of the world, like Montaigne, or Hume, or Oakeshott, who tried not to concern themselves too much with the world, just enough, and otherwise spent their time on Plutarch (that’s Montaigne), or chafing dishes of spices and roast dinners (that’s Hume), or chasing women (that’s Oakeshott). They tried not to get too involved in politics. But it is with politics that cynicism comes in.
Cynicism was originally a much simpler sort of philosophy: a philosophy of enacted opposition. This was not about handling propositions in calm and playful equal-and-opposite manner, but, on the contrary, going around forcing people to face the arbitrariness of their goings-on by going on in a different way: hence Diogenes with his provocations: living in a tub, propositioning statues, eating raw fish to distract audiences from a boring sermon. One of Diogenes’s followers went so far as to burst into people’s houses to tell the occupants that they were living unnaturally.
But here is the clear difference.
Scepticism is not directly about politics.
Cynicism is directly about politics.
We are sceptical about beliefs, about what people believe. This is not directly political, since we take things at face value.
But we are cynical about assertions, about what people want us to think they believe; and about acts, about how people behave. This is directly political, since we think there is something going on behind what we see.
Beliefs and behaviour are different. Beliefs are, we assume, sincere. Now, one may hold beliefs insincerely, or pretend to hold them. But as soon as do this we have abandoned scepticism and entered the world where cynicism applies: exactly because we have subordinated belief to behaviour, and twisted belief for some behavioural advantage. We have become political.
So, behind, or below, scepticism is cynicism.
Cynicism is especially necessary for assessing politics.
I was fortunate in having as one of my teachers a great man. This was Maurice Cowling, the Cambridge historian. Years ago I bought a copy of an obscure interview he made for the Institute of Historical research, and by accident decided to watch it again a few days ago. In this interview he said something which reminded me of some of the things I have been trying to say in recent articles for the Daily Sceptic.
Cowling wrote books on politics, ‘high politics’, as it was called: the politics of the Westminster elite. He wrote books on Disraeli and Gladstone in the 1860s, Labour in the 1920s and the British response to Hitler in the 1930s. In the interview he said that there were two things he had wanted to say about politics in those books. One is that no one knows the future, so the historian has to overcome hindsight and indicate the structure of the situation as it actually was: as a situation in which a limited number of groups agitated for power in the face of certain predicaments. The other thing is more about politics than about history. He said:
Democratic politics are not really ever what they seem. That there is usually some other purpose, or some other intention, involved in the democratic politician’s actions, than appears on the face of it. It is not corrupt. It is simply the way in which democratic politics works, because a democratic politician has not only to make decisions, he has also to make decisions in the light of the wishes and ambitions of other politicians, and he also has to justify himself to a public which doesn’t necessarily like the language which would describe the reasons for his actions. A democratic republic on the whole prefers a comfortable, liberal, problemless language, except from time to time. And democratic politicians, in order to keep power, in order to recommend themselves to the public, have to speak in a language the public wants. Now, it isn’t always, or only, liberal and comforting language. Sometimes it is challenging language, sometimes it’s reactionary, sometimes it’s nationalistic language. But the tone of English politics is liberal, even when the politician is not really himself in his private action thinking liberally. He is thinking either about how you present a policy to the public, or he’s thinking about rivals within the political system, or friends within the political system.
And he called this view of politics cynical.
I’m partly a cynic, partly a pessimist, and partly, I think, if I can use jargon which isn’t really mine, a deconstructionist. What I’m saying is that you cannot understand democratic politics by looking at the surface, by looking at the rhetoric, by looking at what politicians say… Democratic politicians are only understandable within a cynical framework.
What he was saying is what I find I have been saying in slightly different terms recently, which is that politics in modern times is necessarily conducted at two levels, or in two languages. There is a language internal to politics: the language of private disclosure, the language in which things are done. And there is the language of public disclosure, the language in which things are displayed to the public. As Cowling says, “This is not corrupt.” It is not corrupt because it is a necessary feature of the system.
Cynicism is the only way to understand politics. But it forgives the politicians for what they do. We may even forgive politicians for what they say. But there are limits to cynicism. Cynicism would have allowed us to tolerate Covid and other assorted political songs. (Co-vid! It’s got me in my mask!) By being sceptical about the Covid claims we were perhaps forced to be naïve about politics, and take political utterances at face value: but this was because politicians had come to use the language of ‘truth’ and ‘evidence’ and ‘science’ more than they have ever done before.
We have to be sceptical, therefore, about things said, and also cynical about things done. But we should perhaps not be entirely cynical: because then we will always forgive the politicians for what they say. Hence the importance of scepticism: of taking the things said at face value, and arguing with them by holding open other hypotheses as at least thinkable.
I have to finish by adding that Cowling’s account of the nature of modern politics is still not well understood. For instance, Rafael Behr was prating in the Guardian recently about how we live in an “era of cynicism and mistrust” about politicians. What a shame! No, this is not a shame. (Behr here engages in the misunderstanding that politics is as liberal and unchallenging as it pretends to be. Pull the other wooden leg, Behr.) Nay, this cynicism and mistrust indicates that the public is coming to understand the trick rather better than has been usual: or that politicians are becoming more inept in how they present themselves, and are perhaps engaging too stupidly in the pretence that what they are saying is sincere. If they were insincere, we might consider trusting them; but, alas, if they are sincere, and this seems to be the case, then they are fools. And in the last 10 years – with Covid, climate, DEI, immigration etc. – politicians have managed to suggest either that they take us for fools or, worse, that they themselves are fools.
Dr. James Alexander is a Professor in the Department of Political Science at Bilkent University in Turkey.
To join in with the discussion please make a donation to The Daily Sceptic.
Profanity and abuse will be removed and may lead to a permanent ban.
I do.
Lots of them, all the time.
Physical books can’t be hacked, broaden your mind, take you places and meet people you’d never have met.
My library is ever expanding, fiction and non fiction.
Physical books can’t be retrospectively ‘edited’ of non-woke content, given ‘trigger warnings’ or taken away without warning.
How can readers decide that certain ideas are reprehensible if they can never encounter them?
Same here, but mostly non fiction, to broaden my knowledge. Mostly Kindle, but plenty of physical as well.
Normally on Kindle I have about 10 on the go at any one time and flit between them.
My family believe I just read conspiracy theories, I actually read conspiracy facts. Consciously try to avoid the confirmation bias trap. Ones I’m reading now:
The Accountability Deficit
Is that TRUE, or did you hear it on the BBC (Rereading)
NOT Zero
Green Breakdown
Empire of Chaos
Idiots (might not continue)
Gods of Money
Anyone who tells you vaccines are safe and effective is lying
Plandemic
Diary of a Psychosis (read)
Technocracy Rising
Our Enemy the Government
There is no Climate Crisis (read)
The Mythology of Global Warming
A state of fear (read)
etc., etc.
Bit heavy on the climate truth stuff.
“… mostly non fiction…”
Thank goodness someone does. So must Truss, as she knows the importance of cheap Energy to a 21st century prosperous industrial country. And that was a step too far for the Establishment.
I’m coming to the conclusion that too many politicians have read too many History books, and then, when in government, act out their fantasies.
Well, here’s about 2/3 of mine. I think nearly all have been read at least once, apart from reference works. Four of our grand-daughters, aged 6-9, are gratifyingly avid readers – admittedly more Harry Potter than Dostoevsky so far. The oldest (a teenager) prefers hockey, so is going to be very vulnerable to indoctrination at college, sadly.
I once posted this picture to a well-published atheist writer on evolution, who replied something like “Bloody Hell” – his shelf had about a dozen books on it, and presumably everything else he read was online.
This pretty much looks like my library except I have an Apple Mac and a keyboard rather than a guitar. ——-Because I run out of room some time ago though I now get most of my books on Kindle, where I find it easier to bookmark important bits and pieces. ——Cheers.
Way back when I was 10 reading The Famous Five and the Secret Seven by Enid Blyton I have always read books. I think the first book that really caught my imagination and stirred my emotions to realise the power of the written word was when I was about 13 and it was “White Fang” by Jack London. Even today when friends ask about a good book I recommend “White Fang”. ——Today though I tend not to read novels and am more concerned with text books, factual books, on issues regarding politics, science etc and have taken a big interest in the climate issue, in particular how the science has been hijacked for political purposes, and how those politics link in with other issues, regarding eg social justice, equality, diversity, race and gender politics. Issues around population growth, resources, energy politics and how Sustainable Development politics seeks to remove affordable reliable energy and replace it with unaffordable unreliable energy once again all for political purposes and using fear of a climate emergency as the excuse. ——–So from Enid Blyton to “Watermelons” by James Delingpole, and from Jack London to Bjorn Lomberg etc etc.——–All information is good . It is no information that is bad, and if you do not read books you will easily be manipulated by people with an agenda, whether that agenda be social justice, Net Zero, Race Card Politics or whatever. ——Books are Power.
Hear hear.
Kept all my Enid Blyton stuff. Apart from one Famous Five story, which fell apart.
She was banned, y’ know. A good indication if ever there was one.
I’ve got a book called “The shorter Oxford English dictionary”, third edition. It doesn’t have an entry for “anymore”.
People’s memories are getting shorter.
You need another book!
I’m English, dammit!
My Windows computer tells me that “updates are underway.”
What is “underway”?
If it’s Windows it’s probably a worse version of “underhand”.
Underway: A distinction from becalmed?
It’s really a naval term. A vessel is said to be underway (or under way) if it’s moving through the open water with sufficient speed that the rudder can be used for steering it. This a Germanic word with onderweg(en) and unterwegs being the Dutch and German equivalents. In figurative usage, it means on the way.
I think ‘underway’ is a close relative of the odious North American interloper ‘footway.’
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Underway
This applies mostly to sailing ships. Immediately after weighing anchor or unmooring, the ship sits in water without directed motion and it first has to catch enough wind to get underway before the rudder can be used. This means the sails have to be tuned carefully to the existing wind in order to get the vessel to move in some safe direction where it won’t run aground or collide with anything until it has picked up enough speed thay it can be steered.
This makes this a very British term.
Who had the link to the Piglet podcast, can’t remember what article it was under?
I read Blyton to my 5-year-old grandson … a bit advanced but he’s sticking with it, and so much better than the silly and pointless Julia Donaldson books that seem to be everywhere. C.S.Lewis’s Narnia series is lined up for when he’s slightly older.
I would be interested in age-appropriate recommended book lists by year of age…
Well, Julia Donaldson was anti-mask for a while, albeit not otherwise a sceptic.
https://dailysceptic.org/2022/01/07/forcing-children-to-wear-masks-is-dystopian-says-gruffalo-author-julia-donaldson/
For when your grandson is a bit older, maybe 10, I’d recommend the Susan Cooper books (“dark is rising”), and the Chronicles of Prydain.
I used to love the ‘alfred hitchcock and the three investigators’ books as a young boy, but sadly they appear to be out of print.
I still read – mainly old stuff I inherited from my parents.
My kids read tons when younger but nothing now they are grown up sadly.
I know a few people that still read books but plenty that don’t
About eight years ago I began reading books again after a long hiatus just reading articles. I now read and/or listen to about three books a week. About 95% non-fiction.
I’ve read the Peloponnesian War twice, although in an English translation from the 1880s. At present, I’m working my way through the German official history of WWI. And I also read all kinds of more entertaining books on the side. But I’m not only not paying the BBC license fee, I actually don’t watch TV and not even movies anymore.
I’m reading more now my free Disney+ and Apple TV subscriptions have run out, not as though I actually found much worth watching on either.
A second comment on the Peloponnesian War: I’d judge this a very good read for someone who’s generally interested in history but perhaps not entirely happy with postmodern history anymore, especially with the large parts of that which are really contemporary political preaching (eg, Keegan’s History of War, one of the few books I’ve thrown after reading it as it wasn’t worth the shell-space it was taking up). It’s a well written and lively account of an important era in European history which is really still very much relevant to our times, eg, can someone think of a present-day naval power with a habit of spreading ‘democracies’ everywhere in states it subjugated in order to get tributes from them?
It’s also an amazing feat of our culture: Someone wrote this by hand in Greek in the 5th century BC, ie, more than 2400 years ago. And we’ve kept it ever since. That’s something to remember when History of some illiterate black house servants-month comes up again.
True confession – I don’t. I was once an avid reader, now I barely read books at all. Now and then I buy one, then don’t get through it. My attention has become very fragmented. I don’t think I’m better off for that.
I prefer paper copies and almost always buy them second hand online.
I increasingly struggle with mustering the enthusiasm for fiction – maybe non-fiction is too interesting nowadays!
I’m a very slow reader so the books build up by no more than a foot per year.
Sitting in a coffee shop in Cambridge, I took down a James Hadley Chase from the shelf to read with my Americano. Within the opening dozen pages, we have a man wearing a “n** brown hat” and a “fat Wop at the end of the corridor.” I was pretty certain that none of the hipster undergraduates hunched over their laptops have ever taken down any of the decorative books to vet them.
In the ‘fifties, items such as cotton reels and coats were unselfconsciously described as ‘n****r brown, just as items of a different colour could be named ‘pillarbox red’ When I was a baby, my mother named the black family cat ‘N****r. She was using a word in common use, so there was no vilification.
It wasn’t ‘racism’ (then an unknown word) in the UK because we hadn’t kept African slaves and mistreated them as they did in America.
It was the advent of cultural Americanisation and mass immigration that made it a sensitive no-no word.
I’m working my way through my libraries popular science books at the moment, just borrowed Rationality by Steven Pinker in which he bangs on about the exponential growth fallacy then gives examples of things that don’t grow exponentially then mentions that they don’t grow exponentially after all…
I’m also reading the excellent Critical Mass by Philip Ball that I managed to buy second hand for £3.
I have a few shelves of books. Mostly art, economics or some eclectic historical works, ancient Roman recipes is a new one. Though I am admittedly not the biggest reader anymore.
But I work through audio books in the hundreds every year! The Sharpe series is keeping me going currently!
Once you finish Sharpe, I can recommend The Last Kingdom series also by Cornwell.
It’s on the list! I’ve seen the first series of the TV show. Have some sci fi next, James S A Corey’s ‘Expanse’ series.
The Last Kingdom books are better than the TV show. They rushed the end and spoiled it.
Speaking of rushed endings, I’m waiting for the next Game of Thrones book, and have been for many years.
The entire country should require a ‘Bunter Passport’, obtainable only once each individual has read the complete William George (Billy) Bunter series written by Charles Hamilton.
‘Bunter’s defining characteristics are his naive greed, self-indulgence, and overweight appearance. He is in many respects an obnoxious anti-hero. Besides his gluttony, he is obtuse, lazy, racist, nosy, deceitful, pompous, and conceited, but he is blissfully unaware of his defects. In his own mind, he is a handsome, talented, and naturally aristocratic young man….’
Once everyone has obtained their Bunter passport, it should be well nigh impossible (Hooray!) for another Bunter to reach No 10 Downing Street and impose silly lockdowns (Yarooh!) on us, all the while stuffing their face with cake.
I’ve just finished Trollope’s Barchester Towers. Actually it was read to me by Timothy West, just brilliant & laugh out loud funny.
Am now reading The Real Anthony Fauci, also brilliant…. but no very funny.
Ah Yes – the real Anthony Fauci – I read this on my kindle and managed to buy a hard-back version. Also a book by Sen Rand Paul is another very enlightening one.
Books are prohibitively expensive here(Thailand) hence I use a kindle. I have a mix of fact and fiction – all genres.
Don’t have a tv and prefer to ‘get lost’ in a book – or go to the bar to talk to my friends.
I’m none too sure that reading Trollope et al is exactly compulsory for the intelligent mind. Nor am I convinced of the idea purveyed that reading books is the only pure form of reading; surely reading anything is better than reading nothing.
I’ve read books all my life but now my reading is split between online, Kindle and physical. Once upon a time in a land far far away where Blair hadn’t murdered people I read a newspaper every day. Now I read numerous digital equivalents. Does none of this count? Indeed, would we be best served by not keeping up with the present and reading what Cicero had to say about his present?
The major factor is to understand, and extrapolate, what you have read. Animal Farm for example is completely applicable to today and 1984 lacked imagination. The descent into the second Middle Age (not a reference to Tolkien but actually, today and tomorrow, fact) will be written about, lied about and turned into something it never actually was. Will the future learn from it?
I mentioned this article to my wife and she just said “Well, people who think that kind of stuff just disappear up their own …”.
I think I read somewhere reasonably authoritative that reading from a screen is deleterious to one’s concentration. I have certainly found this to be true of myself.
Me. Borrow on average one a week form our local library. Can’t read off screens nor do I want to.
Lockdown saw me read
The Iliad
The Odyssey (both the Fitzgerald translations)
The Divine Comedy (Clive James wonderful translation)
Paradise Lost
The Bible, cover to cover with accompanying critical works. So good I am now rereading it.
Ulysses. At last. Loved it. Made me laugh out loud.
I read daily, always have from a small child , but I do understand what is being said, sad really, but even schools opt for the easy way out these days.
I read every evening. I try not to do any screen time in the evenings (and that includes the telly as we don’t have one). I have to admit that I’m often re-reading my old detective books (Michael Innes, Margery Allingham, Agatha Christie et al) – for pure escape from our dystopian world (which can get rather depressing!) there’s nothing better than a good detective story! However, I’m also reading Katherine Rundell’s book on John Donne and I plan to start re-reading my biographies and autobiographies. I try to read the Bible every day – it is my mainstay.
However I agree that our grandchildren’s generation appears not to read nearly so much and I am appalled (but not surprised) by what Joanna Grey relates.
I generally have 3 – 4 books on the go. One in the bathroom, one at the breakfast bar and a couple near the couch. None of them are novels and are either biographies or factual books. I am currently reading Mao by Halliday; Factfulness by Rosling; and There is No Climate Crisis by Craig. Additionally, I read the Daily Sceptic, Spectator, Conservative Woman, Conservative Home and Unherd; in that order daily.
I tell you this because until I stopped dairy farming at 50, I had no time to read any books but two separate careeers since, in planning and politics, have changed that. I am not of a view that reading is dying. My daughter and grandchildren all read avidly and one grand-daughter -18- collects First Edition books, but much of it is on Kindle type books.
Reading books often lead to conversation and book clubs abound around here in NE Scotland, so there is hope.
Yes, more than ever.
I certainly read books. I believe many other people do, too. When I was a teenager, I used to love reading science fiction. People like Joanna used to ask why I was reading such rubbish and tell me I should read some “real books”.
At school, they made us read interminable and boring “good books” that taught us nothing except that reading was a chore. (Luckily, I was sceptical enough to ignore that and read what I wanted to read.)
Areopagitica by John Milton? The Consolations of Philosophy by Boethius? If Joanna finds them interesting, good luck to her. If she is telling the children she mentors to read such things, she is part of the problem!
The Dark Ages (Part 2) haven’t dawned yet but they may be in the process of dawning.
Having read two books by Paul Strathern recently – ‘The Medici’ and ‘Death in Florence’ – I have come to an understanding of how the Renaissance began and spread throughout Europe. Previously, I knew the Renaissance happened but not how.
The emergence from the mediaeval world of superstition and suppression of learning imposed by dogmatic Roman Catholicism was a long time coming, but the wisdom/philosophy of the ancient Greeks (and some Romans) was eventually rediscovered. A new age of developing arts and sciences dawned, followed by the Reformation, the Enlightenment and so on.
We’re in an awful retrograde phase now, unfortunately, brought on by a combination of technology and the replacement of formal and self-education (via books) with poisonous ideologies promoted by poisonous people.
It may take a while for normality and sanity to be restored, but our prior emergence from the Dark Ages (Part 1) offers hope.
I should add that my interest in the Medici & Florence was inspired by watching a Netflix series. It was somewhat soapy but sparked enough curiosity for me to order books that could teach the history in detail. That is the result of a grammar school education 1959-1964 with teachers who extolled the value of lifelong reading.