Socrates gone mad
An introduction to the philosophical radicalism of Diogenes the Cynic
“Every age, and especially our own, stands in need of a Diogenes; but the difficulty is in finding men who have the courage to be one, and men who have the patience to endure one.”
- Jean d’Alembert
I. A God living as a dog
When someone asked Plato what sort of man he considered Diogenes the Cynic to be, Plato replied: “Socrates gone mad.” Or so a fragment from the 3rd century author Aelian tells us. (Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §134b)
Socrates gone mad, this is how Plato viewed Diogenes the Cynic, the most famous exponent of Ancient Cynicism, the school of philosophy to which we owe our word ‘cynicism’. The Greek κυνικός (kunikós) or ‘cynic’, has its origin in kunós, literally meaning ‘dog.’ No coincidence, for these Cynic philosophers were referred to as ‘dogs’ because of their peculiar way of life. They willingly lived in extreme poverty, had little possessions, and engaged in behaviours that shocked common decency. Diogenes the Cynic was known to roam the streets of Athens, living in a barrel, masturbating in public, and urinating on people to demonstrate that they were fully justified in calling him a dog.
“At a dinner some people were tossing bones to him as though he were a dog; but he rid himself of them by pissing on them as though he were a dog.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §92)
Peculiar to the Cynics is the relative absence of what we usually call ‘a philosophy’. The Cynics engaged in little discourse, produced even less writing, and were entirely unconcerned with producing new ideas or studying texts. Then what did the Cynics do, that makes us call them philosophers? To answer this question, we must remember that in Antiquity, philosophy was very different from today. For besides the theoretical aspect that has survived to this day, philosophy consisted foremost in the manner of living of those who were called philosophers. This led French scholar Pierre Hadot to proclaim that in Antiquity, philosophy was ‘a way of life’.(Pierre Hadot, What is Ancient Philosophy?) Philosophy is often defined as the love of wisdom, and hence, philosophers are those people who devote their lives to the pursuit of wisdom. But love is not just any manner of being interested, love is the intense desire to find union with the object of love. Hence, when we love ourselves, we attempt to stay close to ourselves, not straying from what is best for us. And when we love someone else, we strive to get closer to this person, in the end seeking a union of souls. What is then the love of wisdom? It is the pursuit to be at one with wisdom. Not merely to observe wisdom with the disinterested eye of the scientist looking through a microscope, but to have one’s life become one with this wisdom. And this is what philosophy meant: the desire to live a life at one with wisdom, to live in truth. Driven on by this desire to live in truth, the philosopher engaged in theory to discover the truth, but most importantly, he tried to live his life in a manner as close as possible to this truth. For example, one would discover the principles of a virtuous life through the theoretical aspect of philosophy, and then one would strive to live in absolute conformity to these principles. For it is evident that not only philosophers are aware of the truth, one only needs to read a book. Something everyone can do, provided they have enough time. But what made one a philosopher in Antiquity, was this desire for union, and the resolve to achieve it. A resolve not to be found in just any man. It is with this in mind, that the Cynics were viewed as philosophers. They produced little theory, but they lived a philosophical life in the most radical manner possible. Anything that would distract from the living aspect of philosophy was entirely irrelevant to them, and they discarded it completely, so as to only focus on living according to truth. But do we not first need to theorize about the truth, before we can strive to live in accordance with it? Asking this question is already not comprehending the Cynics, for they would violently reply that you are deceiving yourself. You know full well what the truth is that you should live in accordance with. We all know that it is not good to pursue money for money’s sake, or to pursue pleasure at the cost of true contentment. You know that it is better to focus on yourself, instead of complaining about others. You know that you should follow virtue, and not your fleeting desires. This is the lesson of Cynicism; everyone talks on and on about knowledge, but only so as to distract themselves from their actual task: living a good life.
II. A school of Dogs
The school of Cynicism was founded by Antisthenes (c. 446 - c. 336 BC), a follower of Socrates who introduced a harsh ascetic strain in the Socratic tradition. Antisthenes had been a pupil of Socrates, and he took to its extreme the Socratic thought that virtue, and not pleasure, is what men should strive for. Consequently, Antisthenes thought, the philosopher should do everything in his power to exercise virtue, and he should do everything in his power to stay away from pleasure. This was no new idea, we already see it with Plato and Socrates, with the Pythagoreans, and with certain pre-Socratics. The philosopher strived to purge himself from the inclination to follow the desires offered by the bodily senses, and sought to live a life following only reason. In this way, he strove to attain freedom. A life in which one isn’t pulled from left to right by one’s bodily desires over which one has no control, but in which one is fully in control over the direction of one’s life. The pursuit of this ideal of a life lived according to reason was nothing new, but what is different with the Cynics, is the unseen radical nature with which they pursue this ideal. Wine offers pleasure? Don’t drink it. Working the field takes time away from being able to practice virtue? Don’t work. Reading takes time away from practicing virtue? Don’t read. Focussing on attaining money takes time away from practicing virtue? Live without possessions. Maintaining a home takes time away from philosophy? Live on the streets. The Cynics were this radical, they had their goal —to live as a philosopher—, and everything that distracted from it in the slightest was an object of contempt for them. And so they pursued an extremely minimalist life of hardship; poor, homeless, living on the bare minimum needed to live according to reason. And even those things that we characterize as belonging to philosophy, such as reading, discourse, and other things, could become objects of contempt for them. For if straining oneself to live in accordance to truth was the goal, then perhaps the extensive reading of texts could take time away from practicing to reach one’s goal. Concerning this, Diogenes would often shame Plato. The latter could talk and write endlessly, all these words, with so little said. He was no real philosopher according to Diogenes, but a man who strings words together so as to escape from living as a true philosopher. We read:
“Diogenes asked Plato if he was writing a book of laws, and he said yes. ‘That’s odd, haven’t you written a Republic?’ ‘Yes, I have.’ ‘Well then, didn’t your republic have laws?’ ‘Of course it did.’ ‘Then why on earth do you need to be writing laws again?’”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §123).
Like Socrates, Diogenes too would speak to people on the streets, urging them to live an examined life. But contrary to Socrates, Diogenes didn’t need many words to do so. Socrates would start a dialogue with people and trap them through argumentation so that they would have to admit their own wickedness, the fact that they were living a contradiction, thinking one thing, and being another. For example, Socrates would have a statesman admit that statesmanship consists in ruling well over people, and that this presupposes being able to rule well over oneself. And in doing so, he would confront the statesman with the fact that he isn’t ruling well over himself. Through lengthy dialogue, the statesman is made to examine himself, so that hopefully, he changes his actions for the better. Diogenes was much more simple of a man, and would simply say to people’s faces that they were wicked, or he would just hit them with his stick, or urinate on them. This was Diogenes’ way of doing philosophy, and we can understand why Plato referred to him as “Socrates gone mad.” For in fact, he did the same thing as Socrates, be it only much more radical, much more direct, and much more painful.
Where Socrates and Plato tried to warm people for a philosophical life through careful dialogue and reasoning, Diogenes had no faith in this method. His method was more of a shock-doctrine. He didn’t believe, like Socrates or Plato, that the people’s problem was that they didn’t know enough to live a good life. Rather, they knew all they needed to know, for what is right is known by each man through nature. Their problem was that they didn’t have the courage or the discipline to actually do what is right, and no words can remedy this, only the shock of reality can.
“On hearing Plato praised, Diogenes said, ‘And what’s so wonderful about him, a man who has practised philosophy all this time and never caused pain to anyone?’”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §122)
There is a beautiful fragment of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus attributing a very similar doctrine to the Roman Stoic Musonius Rufus, probably influenced by this Cynic idea that philosophy should cause pain:
“Rufus used to say: “If you have time enough to praise me, then I know that what I am saying is worthless.” And after saying this, he went on to say things that caused each of us who sat there to think that someone at some time had given him revealing information about us: he grasped our circumstances so well, and he placed our faults before our eyes so effectively. Students, the philosopher’s school is a doctor’s office. You must leave not pleased, but pained. You do not come in healthy: one of you has hurt his shoulder, another has an abscess, another a fistula, another a headache. Am I to sit you down and tell you clever slogans and saying so that you praise me as you leave, even though the should is no better than it was, the head still hurts, and the abscess and fistula remain?”
(Epictetus, Discourses, 3.23.29 - 32. Cited in Musonius Rufus, Lectures and Sayings, 90.)
All these words, they are only useful insofar as they are able to confront the receiver with himself, in so far as they are able to incite the pain that comes with the realization that one has been living shamefully. And the quicker one is able to inflict this pain, the better the philosophical discourse. And hence, Diogenes used very little words, and would often resort to short but harsh insults, or blows with his stick. If the degree to which a philosophy was able to inflict pain was the measure of a good philosophy in Antiquity, then Diogenes was the most philosophical of philosophers.
Both with Socrates and Diogenes, the prescription for the philosophical life is to seek ‘to know thyself’, as the famous inscription at Delphi says. Where Socrates and Diogenes differ, is in how they think this self-knowledge will be attained. Through dialectics in the case of Socrates, and through pain in the case of Diogenes. Through being carefully shown the faults in one’s character, or by violently bringing one face to face with one’s wickedness. For both Socrates and Diogenes, a confrontation with oneself is the goal of philosophy, but Diogenes chooses a more direct path. A path of pain, of shame, of ridicule.
III. Diogenes the Dog
Diogenes was born in Sinope, around 404 BC, the son of a banker. Although this fact is unsure. In fact, most of what we know about Diogenes is unsure. It is said that he wrote some texts, but none of these survive, and everything we know of him is anecdotal and from various sources, some more trustworthy than others. But even if much of our knowledge of Diogenes is fiction, the image of Diogenes that is carried over from Antiquity is well-defined, and it is what we will have to work with. Fact or fiction, there was certainly a man called Diogenes the Cynic, and through both fact and fiction, we seek to reconstruct his life and thought. And even if this life is shrouded in false testimony, there is much to learn from the legend that is Diogenes.
Before Diogenes lived a philosophical life, the story goes that he followed in the footsteps of his father and became a mintmaster. At some point, either Diogenes, his father, or both of them, proceeded to debase the currency in Sinope, were caught, and Diogenes was exiled. What had happened was that Diogenes and his father, urged on by their workmen, had decided to debase the currency. When Diogenes was deliberating this act, he decided to seek advice from the Delphic Oracle. He went to the Oracle and asked for advice. Diogenes received an answer: ‘debase the currency.’ Diogenes did it, was caught, and consequently exiled. Diogenes, now all alone, wandering the earth with no possessions, went to Athens. It was here that he came into contact with the philosopher Antisthenes, the supposed founder of Cynicism. Through Antisthenes, he became acquainted with the Socratic philosophy, and it was by observing the life of Antisthenes that he divined a similar life for himself; a life of harsh asceticism, devoted entirely to philosophy and the pursuit of virtue, with no regard for any worldly matters whatsoever.
And thus, Diogenes the philosopher was born. From now on he roamed the streets of Athens, shaming people towards virtue by showing their wickedness through his own way of life. He had have no possessions, yet still he was happy, thus showing the people that they clinged too much to their possessions, preventing them from reaching true fulfilment. He would lie outside all day, absorbing the nourishing rays of the sun, thus showing the people that fulfilment was not to be found in pointless labour. Diogenes needed no books or lectures to spread his teaching, for his life itself was the teaching.
Diogenes the Cynic literally means “the dog born from Zeus.” or “the son of Zeus who acts as a dog.” Diogenes means "born of Zeus" from Greek Διός (Dios) meaning "of Zeus”. And “the Cynic”, is kunós, the dog. A man born from God, who acts as a dog. This is Diogenes the Cynic. Having made the conversion towards the philosophical life, Diogenes would roam the streets of Athens, ‘debasing the currency.’ When a by-passer once shamed him for being exiled from Sinope because of falsifying the currency, Diogenes replied:
“That was a time when I was just as you are now; but what I am now, you will never be.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §5).
Diogenes was a different man, born anew as the dog of Athens. For Diogenes affirmed, that it was precisely because of his banishment that he turned to philosophy, and thus, he should be grateful for it. He shouldn’t be ashamed for his former actions, as a man must not be ashamed for the stupidities undergone in his childhood. To another who reproached him for his past actions, Diogenes was heard saying:
“And there was once a day when I would piss in my bed, but no longer.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §5)
And to yet another he said:
“But it was because of that, you wretch, that I turned to philosophy.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §4).
For if Diogenes would not have debased the currency, and would not have been exiled, he would have never sought another way of life, and he would have remained in the comforts of his wealthy father’s embrace. If he had not debased the currency, Diogenes would not have become a philosopher. It was his exile, that forced him to look at himself, and to finally turn to himself with the question; ‘what am I to do?’ And he realized, that he had already received an answer, for the Oracle had told him: ‘debase the currency.’ And Diogenes now took this to mean that he should spend his life debasing the corrupt behaviour of the common people, their unnatural values, and their wicked manner of living.
It was at his lowest point, with no possessions, looked at with suspicious eyes by all whom he met, having no friends or family to turn to, that Diogenes found philosophy. When there was nothing to do, and no one to turn to, Diogenes had to turn to himself, he had to confront his own wickedness. And pursuing this self-investigation —this first seed of the love of knowledge, the desire to know what he was to do—, he became a philosopher. Confronted with his own wickedness, he decided once and for all, that he would spend his life exorcising the wicked nature of himself and others, and to live a life according to reason, spreading his message to whomever he met.
There is a lesson of self-forgiveness in the story of Diogenes. People shame him for his past actions in Sinope. How dare you speak of virtue Diogenes? Telling us how to live our lives? When you yourself did such horrible things? But Diogenes doesn’t care, for he knows that the past has brought him to where he is now, and that he is a different man. Diogenes would often compare himself to Heracles, because he too would set freedom above all else. And we must remember, that Heracles too, once murdered his own family, a deed which set him on the course of becoming the greatest of Greek heroes. Our past does not determine us, it is what we do with it.
Diogenes was known to say,
“that poverty aids us to philosophy of its own accord, for what philosophy attempts to persuade us by means of arguments, poverty compels us to in very deed.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §19).
Diogenes was lucky to have been exiled. He didn’t need the long and winding roads of classical education, for he was educated by experience. He didn’t need some Socrates to show him his wickedness through dialectics, for experience had already shown him. He didn’t need to go through the pain of saying goodbye to all that was familiar in order to pursue a philosophical life, for he was forced into philosophy through exile.
“When someone asked how one can become a teacher to oneself, he replied, ‘By reproaching first of all in oneself those faults that one reproaches in others.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §274)
To look honestly at oneself, this is the greatest teacher, and it is the experience of pain that forces one to look inwards. Pain, the shame of being exiled in the case of Diogenes. No dialectics can transform you like experience can, this is what Diogenes realized. And it is this realization that determined his own manner of doing philosophy. He would never persuade people towards the good life, he would shock them towards it.
Philosophy is the love of wisdom, but often, we do not choose who we love. Our loves are forced on us, and so it was with Diogenes, following only the necessity of nature and the iron law of Reason, entirely unconcerned for the desires of his lower self. And so Diogenes lived, only following the advice that the Oracle had given him.
IV. A philosophy of freedom
“The highest pinnacle of earthly endeavour, cynicism.”
(Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo, §3.)
Diogenes apparently lived in a barrel, lived on the bare minimum of resources, survived as a beggar, and had barely any possessions, except for a cloak and a little wooden cup with which he drank from a fountain. The cup he threw away after a while, when he saw a little boy drink from the fountain by making a cup with his hands. ‘If this little boy can survive without a cup, then so can I’, and Diogenes threw his cup away. He roamed the streets and would scoff at people for their wickedness and their faulty direction in life. In crowded streets, he would be seen walking backwards, going in the opposite direction from the crowd. When someone from the crowd would notify him that he was walking in the wrong direction, he would respond vehemently;
“Aren’t you ashamed that while you’re walking in the wrong direction along life’s path, you scoff at me for walking backwards?”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §73).
At another time, during broad daylight, Diogenes would be seen walking through the crowded streets, carrying a lamp, as if he was looking for something. When asked what he was looking for, he said he was looking for a man. But alas, nowhere to be found. For in Diogenes’ view, there were no men in Athens. A man follows reason at all times, choosing virtuous action over pleasure. But the masses, these less-than-human creatures, as Diogenes saw them, they only care for filling their bellies and gaining profit, wasting their lives chasing after coins and pleasure, never once taking the time to seek themselves. Diogenes did all these things, and many more. But what makes us call him a philosopher? Even though it is said that Diogenes wrote texts, none of which survive, there is little of a theoretical framework to be found in what we know about Diogenes. Is it not peculiar, that for a philosopher known to scoff at those who spend their time with their nose buried in books, but never actually living their philosophy, there are also no surviving texts? A strange affair, only serving the legend that is Diogenes. Because there is so little ‘thought’ to be ascribed to Diogenes, and so much shocking anecdote, the reception of our philosopher is divided. To some he is the most intense example of a true philosophical life, to others he is merely a madman, a scam-artist, who stands for the worst conception of philosophy. In Antiquity itself, it seems that the reception of Diogenes was largely positive. The later Cynics praised Diogenes, and for the Stoics he was likewise seen as an idol. And also among the public at large, despite Diogenes’ life-long war against them, there was much praise for the dog of Athens. Diogenes Laertius recounts that when Diogenes died, after living to approximately 90 years of age, bronze statues were made in his honour, with the inscription:
“Even bronze yields to time, but your glory, O Diogenes, will remain intact through all eternity, Since you taught mortals the doctrine of self-sufficiency
And showed them the easiest path through life.”
(Diogenes, Sayings and Anecdotes, §398a)
We might see Diogenes as merely a dog, but for the men and women among which he lived, he was a dog born from God. What stands firm, is that the reasons some despise Diogenes, are the same reasons others love him. His love for plain speech and action over words, looked at by some as the laziness of a man unwilling to truly think, or undergo the discipline of reading expected from a philosopher. Looked at by others as a virtue, his unceasing affirmation, that as much as theory is useful, it is life that we should be concerned with.
V. The problem with knowledge
Because he never came up with any original thoughts, and left little of a theoretical philosophy for us to work with, many are of the opinion that Diogenes is not a real philosopher. But it is precisely this, —that Diogenes’ philosophy consists entirely of his life—, that makes others love him. And it is precisely this, that Diogenes saw as his own worth. The problem of philosophy is often framed as the problem of a lack of knowledge. We lack knowledge, live in ignorance, and thus we start doing philosophy to escape our ignorance. But Diogenes asks of us if it might not be the other way around. Is it not the case, that we often have all the knowledge we need, and that the real problem lies in our inability to act according to this knowledge? Plato would say that the wickedness of people is because of their ignorance or lack of knowledge. But Diogenes would say that this is false, the people are wicked, not because they know too little, but because they lack the courage to act according to what they know. This is Diogenes’ lesson, and his message to all the philosophers who spend their time only engaged in theory. And perhaps, Diogenes tells us, all this theorizing is part of the problem. For couldn’t it be the case, that we theorize precisely to distract ourselves from the task at hand, action? We question endlessly, ‘what is freedom’? All the while failing to live as a free man. We ask continuously: ‘What is virtue?’ All the while failing to act as we know we should. The philosophers are like these people who try to lose weight; always seeking for the one secret, the pill that will make them lose weight without effort, the ‘hack’, the secret knowledge, the perfect diet, … all the while distracting themselves from the fact that it just takes some discipline and hard work. The philosophers theorize about what the best political system would be, and once this has been found, everything will be perfect. All the while, they don’t care for acting justly, the only thing that will always be necessary, in whatever system one might come up with. Looking for this secret gem of knowledge to fix humanity, the philosophers forget that it has already been found, and that it consists in moving their feet. But has it been forgotten, or do we deliberately engage in theory, to distract ourselves from the difficulty of the task at hand? This is Diogenes’ question. The philosophers wonder, amazed at all the things they don’t know. And mesmerized by this wonder, they forget to act on what they already know. Or maybe, they seek out this wonder precisely to postpone acting on what they already know. It is easy to ask questions, but to obey the truth, this is often much harder.
Can we not learn much from Diogenes? For we too live in times in which a lack of knowledge is not the problem, but in which a surplus of knowledge is the problem. Any man with access to a computer and the internet knows more about the world than the most intelligent of people living in antiquity. Every philosopher living today has access to more books than any philosopher living in antiquity. Yet where has it gotten us? Are we closer, to this secret knowledge that will solve all our problems? Or are we drifting further away from that which will truly make things right? Are we more virtuous than the men amongst which Diogenes lived? Or are we just as depraved? I would argue that things have not gotten better. The myth of progress through increasing knowledge has only ravaged the earth, has caused millions to die from pharmaceutical grade poison sold as medicine, it has made the youth self-indulgent and proud, thinking all will be solved with enough education, where education is meant as the indoctrination of others into this same myth of progress. We think ourselves better because of our knowledge, but when we look at our actions, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Men still choose pleasure over virtue, people still destroy themselves through addictions, and states still violate the rights of their citizens. People still lie, be it now both virtually and in real life. People still chase coin instead of purpose, be it the coins are worth nothing, and the life it offers is a life of quiet desperation, only eased by the cheap thrill of instant gratification. And do we not also live in a time when the philosophers theorize to distract themselves? They speak on and on about ‘the concept of freedom’ in this or that philosopher, but care little when their University issues a vaccine mandate, violating their freedom to do as they please with their bodies. And the doctors speak on and on about public health, while getting their cash by producing ‘medicines’ known to kill. We are wicked, and our supposed knowledge is only there to distract us from this fact. Knowledge is not used to confront us with ourselves, —as Socrates’ dialectical enquiring was meant to do—, rather, it is used to flee from ourselves.
Is Jean d’Alembert not justified in saying that “every age stands in need of a Diogenes”? Is it not so, that when corruption and wickedness have reached these heights, a man should come around to confront us with ourselves? To shame us for our wickedness, and shock us into virtue? To remind us of what really matters; plain speech, and a life lived in accordance with truth.
There are perhaps times when a lack of knowledge is the problem, but there are also times, when a surplus of knowledge is precisely the problem. And in this age of information, we ‘know’ so much, that we can hardly make out what to do. We are confused, dragged from here to there by the next opportunity for a quick fix of pleasure, the next opportunity to stack some cash, or the next digitally induced dopamine rush. All the while never knowing, what it truly is that we should do. And it is perhaps in such times most of all, that a Diogenes must appear. Someone to act as a filter, to make us face ourselves, to remind us of what it is, that is truly worth our attention.
It is for each of us to make out for ourselves what we think of Diogenes. A true philosopher, or merely a madman? I will leave you with a passage from Luis Navia’s beautiful book on Diogenes:
“We might argue that one’s reaction to Diogenes, as happens in many situations, depends on one’s own frame of mind. Schopenhauer once remarked that one does not choose to appreciate a certain philosopher or a certain philosophical attitude, for the reverse is true: that appreciation is determined by the kind of person one is. It might be possible that in order to understand and appreciate the value of Diogenes as a philosopher, one may have to be Cynic oneself or at least have certain Cynic tendencies. How can someone whose psychological predispositions and whose upbringing incline him to blindly accept all social norms and to deify the Establishment and the status quo, and who, as in the case of patriotic enthusiasts and religious zealots, cannot find fulfilment in life except as part of a group, discover any value in a man like Diogenes, who, partly on account of his character and the circumstances of his life, and partly because of certain philosophical influences, felt compelled to wage a relentless war against the human world that surrounded him, and found his fulfilment only in the shelter of his self-proclaimed independence?”
(Luis E. Navia, Diogenes: The War against the World.)
This will have served as an introduction to Diogenes. In a next instalment, I will extract Diogenes’ philosophy of freedom out of his legend. What were his actual thoughts? What were the convictions that led him to shame his fellow Athenians in such a harsh manner? Even though no writings of Diogenes survive, we can re-construct a doctrine out of the many anecdotes and sayings that we have of him. This is what I will attempt to do.
Sources:
Diogenes the Cynic, Sayings and Anecdotes. Translated by Robin Hard. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.
Pierre Hadot, What is Ancient Philosophy? Translated by Michael Chase. Cambridge: Belknap Press, 2002.
Luis E. Navia, Diogenes: The War against the World.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo. Translated by Anthony M. Ludovici. New York: Macmillan, 1911.