Are we naturally hedonists? Here's what Epicurus thought.

Fernando Kaskais

Jan 2

Credit: LIGHTFIELD STUDIOS / Adobe Stock

To the Greek philosopher, all of our actions ultimately aim at our own pleasure.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

The Greek philosopher Epicurus thought that the greatest pleasure is tranquility, a stable psychological state characterized by the presence of pleasure and the absence of pain.
There are multiple ways to reach that state in the Epicurean reading. There is the direct pursuit of pleasure, and its indirect pursuit, which is related to duty and belonging to a community.
We willingly do painful or challenging things for two sorts of pleasure — a pleasant peace of mind and, that having been secured, the unalloyed pleasures that prudence endorses.

by Emily Austin

Epicurus considers it obvious that we, like every other animal, pursue pleasure and avoid pain by nature. The point requires no rational demonstration — we observe it in other animals and feel it in ourselves. We have never asked for a reasoned argument that fire feels hot and snow feels cold. We just feel it. Epicurus considers it likewise self-evident that pleasure and pain serve as the motivational starting points for all sentient creatures.

The desire for pleasure and an aversion to pain come as standard operating equipment in animals. Epicurus, though, thinks the greatest pleasure is tranquility, a stable psychological state characterized by the presence of pleasure and the absence of pain. That we want tranquility by nature does not seem self-evident, so it might require something more closely resembling an argument. This, too, Epicurus concludes from observation, is particular of animals from their earliest stages.

Picture a human infant cast screaming from the womb into the great hurly-burly of this world, red with rage. It is hungry, overstimulated, and suddenly very cold and uncomfortable. And all these horrible sounds! As Lucretius puts it, a human newborn is like "a shipwrecked sailor tossed ashore by savage waves" that finds itself "naked, speechless, and utterly helpless." And "how it fills the place with its woeful wailings!" What it wants, and what we want to give it, is whatever will chill that baby out. It needs sustenance, a warm embrace, snuggles, music, the sound of the tap running, to be bounced around, a soft hat. Epicurus thinks that this brute desire for secure comfort never leaves us. An infant who lacks foundational security struggles to experience easy joys, and Epicurus thinks the same is true for humans at all stages.

The Epicureans and their chief rivals, the Stoics, call this a "Cradle Argument," according to which we can read the fundamental motivation of a human being from observing its early, uncorrupted state. Epicurus thinks the "Cradle Argument" shows us that infants want freedom from pain, as well as the assorted pleasures consistent with maintaining that tranquil state. Adults, then, are essentially infants grown large and intelligent, facing an immensely more complex world, now largely responsible for providing that precious and pleasant secure state for ourselves. Cicero reports that the Stoics, by contrast, think that "as soon as it is born," an infant "is concerned with itself, and takes care to preserve itself." I have admittedly not met any self-preserving infants.

Epicurus advances a bolder claim here than you might at first think. It makes sense that pleasure feels good, and that pain feels bad, and we do often choose pleasures and avoid pains. No controversy there. Epicurus, though, thinks that all our actions ultimately aim at our own pleasure. Epicurus is what we will call a "psychological hedonist" because he thinks that we always choose what we think will provide us the most pleasure overall. We have one fundamental motivation — pursuing pleasure. He writes that pleasure is "the starting point for every choice and avoidance." As he thinks the greatest pleasure is freedom from pain and anxiety, he can restate our motivation as pain avoidance: "We do everything for the sake of being neither in pain nor in terror."

But that seems, at least on the face of it, insane. Consider some of your most recent actions. In the past few hours, you have likely done many things. Perhaps you washed the dishes, opened a bottle of wine, answered some work emails, talked a friend through a crisis, ate an ice cream sandwich, turned off your mind to binge-watch a show. Now you are taking at least a moment to peruse the contents of this book. Each action foreclosed other options. Your reading this book means you are not currently strolling through the night. If I asked you to explain your motivations for these assorted actions, how might you respond?...

more...

https://bigthink.com/thinking/are-we-naturally-hedonists/