A cross cultural comparison of death philosophy in the ancient world | Teen Ink

A cross cultural comparison of death philosophy in the ancient world

November 1, 2020
By RiceDump BRONZE, Nanjing, Other
RiceDump BRONZE, Nanjing, Other
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Introduction

Between 900 BCE and 200 BCE, Chinese and Greek societies shared many remarkable similarities. Both societies engaged in incessant intra-regional warfare which caused political fragmentation, and we see philosophers emerging to raise fundamental questions about the meaning of life and how to live correctly. The social conditions gave philosophers a common focus, and the lack of thought control from a dominating regime created enough freedom for different ideas to flourish. Unlike previous times, the society’s productivity has reached an unprecedented level where it allows certain people to take their minds off secular worries of survival and turn to pondering more abstract topics; if compared to after this period, there is a higher level of regional instability and flexibility, which is even further enhanced by the immature political system.

Ancient Chinese and Greek philosophers were greatly separated geographically but lived in societies that were somehow similar. Confucius and Zhuangzi were both ethical theorists of honorable ancestry who traveled around China, offering teaching to would-be disciples on the way. Plato and Epicurus, on the other hand, were aristocrats who travelled to may islands around the Mediterranean who later founded their own philosophical schools in Athens. But the similarities between their teachings go much deeper than the superficial patterns. They all confront issues surrounding death, and they all claim that death should not be feared of—but their reasons were various. How did they resolve the fear towards death? What reasons did they have to support such a counterintuitive claim? This essay aims to compare their philosophical arguments about death by analyzing what lies at the core of their similarities and differences.

 

 

2. Philosophers on Death

2.1 Daoism

Daoism has long been a major influence in Chinese philosophical thought. Thanks to the favor of emperors and people alike, it has shaped the Chinese world view from the “spring and autumn” and “warring states” periods (770-221 BCE) until the present day. It is both an active religion requiring the daily practice of rituals and a contemplative philosophy requiring disengagement and meditation. In classical China, the former aspect predominated; the philosophical aspect, although still present, faded from the mainstream after the Han Dynasty exclusively promoted a modified version of Confucianism among its government officials. Religious Daoism, however, retained its popularity at all levels of society. Whilst it did not end up as a primary philosophy of the majority of Chinese, it's easily understandable, aphoristic approach, concern with individual well-being, and promise of eternal life gave it tremendous appeal to Chinese people, both inside and outside government. In particular, it greatly influenced the Chinese attitude towards an understanding of life and death.

Daoism is both a religion and a philosophy. Philosophical Daoism and religious Daoism understand death differently. We shall therefore begin with philosophical Daoism. After we have explained its ideas, we shall trace how religious Daoism modified these ideas to form present-day Daoist conception of death.


2.1.1. Daoist Philosophy

Daoist philosophy is best expressed in three collections of aphorisms, anecdotes, and stories: the Zhuangzi (c.320BCE), the Daode-Jing (c.250BCE), and the Huainanzi (c. 140BCE). The authorship of these sources is not completely certain. The Zhuangzi is named after the philosopher ZhuangZhou; the Daode-Jing is attributed to the figure Lao-Tse; and the Huainanzi was almost certainly written by Liu Xiang, a brother of an early Han emperor.  Many of the Daoist arguments were built upon the fundamental concept of the “Dao”, after which Daoism was named. Daoist philosophers have never given a clear definition of the “Dao”—in fact, even they themselves admit that the Dao is inexpressible: “The Dao can be passed on but cannot be taught, can be acquired but cannot be seen”, and “the Dao that is spoken is not the eternal Dao”. This is because the Dao transcends all personal experience and thus is unintelligible to those who have only personal experiences to base their understanding on. However, we may infer the characteristics of the Dao from relevant texts in these sources, among which two passages have emerged as the most crucial. The first reads:

 


“The Dao can be spoken of, but is not the Dao of whom we commonly speak;


A name can be given, but not a common name.

He can be called non-being, because he preceded Heaven and earth;


He can be called pre-being, because he gave birth to all that is.


Therefore, since he is non-being, his wonders can be meditated upon;


Since he is being, his track can be seen.


Non-being and being are merely two terms for the one source. That the two are one is a mystery.”

Mystery upon mystery—the gateway to all wonders!”

The second is story about Zhuangzi’s wife:

When Zhuangzi’s wife died, his friend visited to offer his condolences. To his surprise, Zhuangzi was sitting relaxed on the ground, singing along to the rhythm of him hitting a pot as a drum. In fury, the friend questioned him: “Your wife has lived with you for so many years. Now that she is dead, isn’t it too heartless to sing instead of grieve for her now?” Zhuangzi replied: “Of course, when I first learned the news of her death, I was also sunken in deep sorrow. But as I reflected on it afterward, she did not exist at all in the very beginning. Before her life started, she had neither body nor soul: she was in the state of nothingness. Through complex processes, her soul was created, and from the soul the body was made. After all these changes (generated by the Dao) she had life, but now it is through changes of the same nature that she shifts into the state of death, without a body or soul, just like her condition before birth. Having been born out of nothingness, she now returns to her initial state; her change of form between life and death is just like the eternal cycling of four seasons. She now rests peacefully between the sky and land, at one with the Dao; wouldn’t it be ridiculous if I cry for her?”

Although interpretation of these passages is difficult, the central idea here is that the Dao somehow exists both outside and inside the physical universe, creating and structuring all that lives and dies. From this perspective, one should live one’s life attuned to the rhythms of the Dao. Death, however, is as much a state of the Dao as life – part of a single process that encompasses both life and death. Therefore, one should neither fear nor resist death because in death one is still attuned to the Dao.  Zhuangzi is not arguing that consciousness remains after death, but rather that the flow of the Dao makes it inevitable to return to a state of nothingness. Therefore, excessive emotional turmoil is misplaced/unnecessary, and we can only be content when we accept death (as a part of the Dao) with peace of mind. Zhuangzi celebrates the death of his wife because, although dead, she is still part of the Dao-governed natural order. At first, he felt a deep sense of loss, but on reflection, he realized that her death occurred as part of the natural cosmic process.

 


1.1.2 Daoist Religion

Daoism is the only indigenous Chinese religion. Archaeologists have unearthed oracle bones from as far back as the Shang Dynasty (1600-1046 BCE) that already display core ideas and rituals similar to those of later Daoism. These include honoring ancestors, worshipping nature, telling fortunes, and making sacrifices to the gods and spirits. Such basic notions developed among the ancient peasantry long before the time of Laozi, the (widely believed) founder of the Daoist school of philosophy (571-471 BCE). Therefore, some aspects of Daoism as a folk religion must have predated the development of Daoism as an articulated philosophy. Moreover, the original Daoist folk religion developed two other, parallel schools of thought during the spring and autumn and warring states periods: namely, the Yin-Yang school and the Shen-Xian school, which were later incorporated into the Daoist religion. Like other forms of Daoism, these schools venerated the unity between men and nature; but unlike philosophical Daoism, they believed in the existence of supernatural beings (“Shen-Xian”), practiced fortune telling, and created specific methods to pursue immortality based on their unique metaphysical systems. Around the 6th century BCE, two other schools developed from this historical context: the “Huang-Lao-Dao” and “Fang-Xian-Dao”, which constituted the basic philosophical and ritual traditions of the later Taoist religion. Huang-Lao-Dao combined Laozi’s Daoism with ideas from the Shen-Xian and Yin-Yang schools to emphasize the importance of following rules of nature (flowing with the “Dao”) and to indicate that common men have a chance to become immortal. Fang-Xian-Dao believers on the other hand, focused on developing distinctive methods of divination. They sought to immortalize the body, and to communicate with spirits through the practice of alchemy, the taking of elixirs, and selective fasting.

Although excluded from the mainstream educational system, both the Huang-Lao-Dao and Fang-Xian-Dao traditions were widely practiced among a broad section of Chinese society. By the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty (approximately 200 CE), two religious groups, “Zheng-Yi Dao” and “Tai-Ping Dao”, were founded in two different provinces in China at approximately the same time. Zhang Daoling, the founder of “Zheng-Yi Dao”, combined traditional notions of spirit worship, the pursuit of immortality, and fortune telling with Huang-Lao Dao beliefs. Historical records of these two groups indicate that the number of followers and frequency of group activities reached the level of an organized religion with an elaborate ideology and a strict hierarchy of ranks. Notably, the Daoist community showed considerable political strength. Notably, the Daoist community showed considerable political strength. For example, when the Han government tried to close down a Daoist community run by Zhang Daoling's grandson, Zhang Lu in the second century CE, this community proved extremely resilient because of the high level of popular support created by Zhang Lu’s charitable activities. Such political influence is a common trait of formal religious groups. It is therefore widely agreed that the founding of “Zheng-Yi Dao” and “Tai-Ping Dao” marks the official start of the Daoist religion.

While the Daoist philosophy (especially as written in the Zhuangzi) remained ambiguous on the possibility of an afterlife, Daoist religion maintained certainty. It seems absurd that the two forms of Daoism (philosophical and religious) should have exactly opposite teachings about death, but they both qualify as “Daoist” because the ambiguous concept of “Dao” lies at the heart of both schools of thought. From several stories in the Zhuangzi, we may conclude that in order to achieve calmness and happiness, we must accept the rules of the “Dao”, which determine that after death we no longer exist in the same form as a living person. However, this is where the subtlety of his diction creates space for the founders of the Daoist religion to reinterpret his meaning. In another story from Zhuangzi, he records himself holding a dream conversation with a skeleton (representing the dead). The skeleton tells him that death relieves people from all life’s anxieties, saying “when dead, there are no social rules such as how emperors dominate their officials; there is no business of four seasons because you exist in eternity. This happiness is unparalleled.” Zhuangzi here indicates that the state of being after one’s death is even calmer and more enjoyable than that of life; but he never directly articulates whether consciousness survives death. He also objected to ancestor worship, which is often considered a marker of belief in posthumous spiritual power. However, his objection is based on the idea that rituals honoring the dead have negative social effects, and he never denied the existence of spirits. Thus from these perspectives, we observe no direct rejection of the possibility of an afterlife.

Zhuangzi’s ambiguous attitude towards death may have even inspired people to seek immortality instead of accepting death calmly. From Zhuangzi’s philosophy, Daoist theologians took two main ideas to construct their worldview: (1) death is a form of existence, in which one is more “at one” with the Dao; (2) in death, one is happier and calmer compared to when alive, and acquires ultimate freedom from worldly cares. Daoist theologians blurred the concept of “death” and emphasized the notion of “being at one with the Dao”, hence postulating a state of being that both retains consciousness and enjoys release from worldly cares. Notably, they were able to interpret death in this way because the concept of “consciousness,” although central to people's conception of what is valuable about life, had never been at center of Zhuangzi’s discussion. Since Zhuangzi never makes it clear that one “becomes unconscious” when one dies (although this is most likely what he means), founders of the Daoist religion are able to reinterpret the entire description of conditions that obtain after death, postulating a state of being that they referred to as becoming a “Shen-Xian”, which indicates immortality and the possession of supernatural powers.

This reinterpretation presumably accounts for the greater popularity of the religious school of thought (“Dao Jia” as opposed to “Dao Jiao”). In the story about Zhuangzi singing at his wife’s death, we observe that Zhuangzi reversed his attitude after reflecting according to his Daoist philosophical principles. He admitted that he was “overtaken by sorrow and grief” as his first response to his wife’s death, but he turned to celebration after this reflection. Moreover, ever since the Qing dynasty, many Chinese emperors had followed the religious guidelines (many of which enshrined in folklore) and invested enormous amounts of time and money into studying alchemy in the hope of finding elixirs of immortality (at least five of the Tang emperors even died of heavy metal poisoning from drinking contaminated elixirs). So, while it is inspiring to see how Daoist philosophy can spare the believer pain, we must remember that Daoist philosophy contradicts human instinct and is therefore much harder to adopt. While practicing Daoist philosophy requires less time and expense than practicing Daoist religion, (for instance, Daoist philosophy demands no daily sacrifices), the idea that the soul loses its form after death, and therefore that we must “accept things as they are”, is insufficient for most people. Human beings cling stubbornly to life; they need hope and consolation in the face of life’s adversities. But only religious Daoism offers hope of eternal life and absolute happiness. So, religious Daoism better meets people’s needs than philosophical Daoism.


2.2.Plato

2.2.1 Plato’s life


Like his contemporaries, little is known about Plato’s early life due to the paucity of surviving accounts. Ancient sources like De Dogmate Platonis by Apuleius and Lives of the Eminent Philosophers by Diogenes Laërtius are often less than reliable.

Plato is believed to have had prominent ancestors. His father was Ariston, who traced his descent from Codrus, the king of Athens, and Melanthus, the king of Messenia. This however is mentioned only in Diogenes Laërtius’ dialogues. Plato's mother was Perictione, whose family claimed a relationship with Solon, the famous Athenian lawmaker and lyric poet. Perictione was sister of Charmides and cousin of Critias, both prominent figures during the Thirty Tyrants regime, which followed on the collapse of Athens after the Peloponnesian war (404–403 BC). We can be confident that Plato had two brothers, Adeimantus and Glaucon because this information comes from several sources. Plato himself sometimes introduced his distinguished relatives in his dialogues: Charmides has a dialogue named after him; Critias appears in the dialogues Charmides and Protagoras; Adeimantus and Glaucon speak in The Republic. From the later sources as well as Plato’s own references, we may conclude that there Plato was an aristocrat from a prominent family line.

Diogenes provides accounts of Plato’s early education. According to Diogenes, Plato's education, like any other Athenian boy's, was physical as well as mental; the most distinguished teachers of his time instructed him in grammar (that is, reading and writing), music, painting, and gymnastics. He excelled so much in physical exercises that Dicaearchus went so far as to say that Plato wrestled at the Isthmian games and was well known for doing extremely well. Plato also attended philosophy courses. Speusippus praised Plato's quickness of mind and modesty as a boy, and what he describes as the "first fruits of his youth infused with hard work and love of study". Aristotle and Diogenes agree that Plato had encountered either the philosophy of Heraclitus or that of Heraclitus’ disciples before meeting Socrates. Modern scholars now believe that Plato became acquainted with Socrates as a young boy through Critias and Charmides, both of whom were friends of Socrates.  It is therefore clear that Plato received a traditional elitist Athenian education, had contact with Heraclitus’ philosophy, and was mostly influenced by Socrates.

Though minor disputes revolve around Plato’s exact birthdate, most sources point to the 420s BCE, during the 87th, 88th or 89th Olympiad. He was born into a world of tumult: a plague wiped out one-third of Athens’ population a few years before his birth; Athens began the Peloponnesian war around the same time, which waged until 404 BCE. Until his early-twenties, Plato witnessed not only conflicts between the two city-states, but also endless political strife within Athens, which sometimes involved his relatives. Although born in a prominent political family, he did not participate in politics actively for he could not agree with any of the contending parties, which all seemed to bring Athens to further decline. However, it is clear that his aristocratic family and education largely influenced his political philosophy. Although it is said that his stepfather Pyrilampes was a close friend of Pericles (the leader of the democratic faction), his family still largely supported the oligarchic side, especially because Charmides and Critias were members of the “Thirty Tyrants” who overthrew the Athenian democracy. Therefore, Plato’s family environment may well have been one of the major influences behind his opposition to Pericles’ radical form of democracy.

Being disappointed with politics, Plato went on several trips to places like Cyrene, Italy, Sicily, and perhaps even Egypt. He visited Syracuse three times with the general purpose of educating the Sicilian Kings in philosophy and instructing them in how to establish reasonable political rules. Notably, Chinese philosophers of the same era shared the same activity. They traveled across borders and attempted to disseminate their philosophies and tried to accumulate influence. This process serves as an important factor in whether philosophers achieve a high reputation in their societies, which psychologically affects their attitudes towards death. Plato’s journeys failed to achieve his purpose, he the Sicilian tyrant Dionysus imprisoned him on his two final visits. As a result, he stopped traveling and remained in his beloved academy until death.

Plato’s upper-class background meant that he didn’t need to worry about his own livelihood.  He attributed little importance to pleasure but thought deeply about abstract issues such as virtue, justice, and immortality.  It is in this context that his philosophy of death takes shape. Plato’s belief that the soul is immortal is closely related to his argument of the Forms. His idealist philosophy reckons that the sensual and material are somehow erred or disguised versions of their essence, which is only knowable to the intellect.


2.2.2 Death in Phaedo—A review of Plato’s death philosophy

In Phaedo, Socrates and his interlocutors discuss death during his final hours, before he commits suicide by ingesting poison. Although Plato frames this dialogue as a conversation between Phaedo and Echerates, it serves as a vehicle to summarize his own philosophy of death, probably for the first time. Most importantly, Plato argues for the immortality of the soul and introduces his signature philosophical concept, namely, the Form.

First, we must clarify the concept of a “Form.” For Plato, when two things belong to the same category, they share the same Form. For example, the Form of “tableness” is what all tables have in common, and thus what makes them all tables. The Form of “tableness” is different from all particular tables. Whereas particular tables are manifest to the senses, the Form of “tableness” is knowable only to the intellect. When the senses present one with a number of tables, it takes an intellectual appreciation of the Form of “tableness” to recognize what they all have in common.

But Plato’s primary concern is with “higher” Forms: Forms that represent the good, the pure, the just, the beautiful, and mathematical and geometrical objects such as circles.  For example, any circle encountered in the material world must be impure because the curve of its circumference must have some thickness (which means it’s really a ring, not a circle).  A “real” circle is a mathematical object knowable only to the intellect.  If one truly understands what a circle is, one realizes that no true circles are to be found in the material world. His entire argument is based on the concept of Forms.

The Phaedo’s discussion of immortality starts with Socrates asserting that death should be desirable to a philosopher.  His argument is built upon two premises: a) that death is the separation of the body and the soul (psuchē), and b) that only the soul can perceive Forms, whereas the bodily senses are deceptive, offering only illusion.  From these premises, Socrates infers that one is closest to truth when one's soul is most “by itself”, separate from and independent of one’s physical body.  Socrates also suggests that if philosophy teaches virtue, and virtue will purify the soul when it separates from the body. Therefore, no philosopher should fear death, since death will enable him to acquire the wisdom that he has been seeking his whole life.  Moreover, after death his soul would most likely join the gods because it has been “purified” by philosophical contemplation.  Thus ends Socrates' first argument. It demonstrates Plato’s view of a noble death: anticipation, instead of fear, should be the philosopher's attitude.

Next, Cebesquestions the immortality of the soul. He identifies two points that must be proved in order to convince the skeptic: a) that the soul survives death, and b) that it retains the same intellectual abilities as when the person is alive. In response to a), Socrates argues that living souls go to the underworld after death where they are recycled and become alive again. The argument goes as follows: first, all things come from their opposite states; second, between the two states there are always two processes that allow them to transform into each other; third, the two states must balance each other out; fourth, the states of “being alive” and “being dead” are such a pair of opposites; therefore, life must arise from death, and the souls of the dead must continue to exist.

Socrates then uses another argument to demonstrate the soul’s existence before birth. He argues that learning is a process of “recollection”, because people can acquire “new” knowledge by deduction, without having encountered this knowledge in their experience. His argument goes as follows: first, things in the material world might appear to be equal by measurement, but they are in fact unequal in other ways. In other words, things we observe as equal do not represent “the Equal itself” (the “Form” of equality). Second, we are able to think about the concept of “absolute equality” while seeing only approximations and deficient examples of equality in our sensory experience. Therefore, knowledge of the “Form” of equality must have been dwelling inside us before experience, predating our birth.  Thus, the soul must have existed before one’s birth because it is the only vessel that can contain this knowledge. This argument (known as the “argument from recollection”) can be generalized: whenever we observe phenomena in the material world, our observations depend on our ability to “recollect” the relevant “Forms.”

With these two arguments, Socrates seems to have proved the soul’s existence before and after death. But he provides a third argument – the “affinity argument” – which pulls together his worldview. He states that there are two types of existence: a) the visible, changing, material world where people live, and b) the invisible, unchanging, spiritual world accessible only through pure thought, transcending sensory experience. The body belongs to world a) and the soul to world b). Therefore, if one practices philosophical training, the soul will remain pure and join the spiritual world. On the other hand, the soul will be trapped in the material world if it is polluted by bodily influences. This reasoning represents Plato’s middle-stage “two-world” metaphysics.

Another of Socrates’ interlocutors, Simmias, then joins Cebes in raising objections. Simmias argues that the soul might perish along with the destruction of its vessel, the body, while Cebes makes the challenging suggestion that since we are unsure whether deaths inflict damage on a soul, the soul that outlasts one body may still perish after the death of another body that it inhabits. So even supposing that the soul can survive the death of a particular death, one should always face death with fear in light of the uncertainty surrounding the soul’s immortality.

In response, Socrates makes a series of intriguing remarks. He starts by warning that Simmias and Cebes not to deny the trustworthiness of all arguments just because one has turned out wrong; instead, he claims, one should blame one’s own lack of knowledge and experience. Next, Socrates convinces Simmias that he is mistaken by showing that his position contradicts the theory of recollection. In answer to Cebe’s question, however, Socrates starts by relating his own intellectual history. According to Socrates, he tried without success to answer the question “why things are what they are” “why do things have the qualities that they have”. Becoming frustrated by his inability to answer this fundamental question, he learns to accept his own ignorance. This leads him to basing all his judgments on the “theory of the Forms”. Only Forms, he concludes, give things their qualities.  E.g. the number 3 is odd because it partakes of the form of “oddness”, which excludes the form of “evenness”.  By analogy, the soul, which partakes of the form of “aliveness”, can never partake of its opposite, “deathness”. Cebes finds this argument convincing, and Socrates moves on to the next stage of his reasoning/theory.

Following his demonstration of the soul’s immortality, Socrates proceeds to describe myths about what happens after death. His tale consists of three parts: the judgment of the dead soul and its journey to the underworld, the shape of earth, and the punishment of the wicked and reward for the pious (especially philosophers). The issue of the soul’s immortality has considerable implications for morality. If the soul is immortal, one must worry about its condition for all time; if it is mortal, then there would be no lasting consequences for the wicked or the just. Although even Socrates himself refers to this account as a myth, we must realize that myths in ancient Greece lack the “untruthful” connotation they do today; instead, they often carry a degree of authenticity, which makes them effective supplemental proof to an argument. The myth thus reinforces the dialogue’s recommendation of the practice of philosophy as care for one’s soul.

 


2.3.Epicureanism

2.3.1 Death in A letter to Menoeceus –A review of Epicurus’ death philosophy

In his letter to Menoeceus, Epicurus discusses multiple elements that contribute to a “right life”, including the belief in God, the ready acceptance of death, and the importance of prudence and self-discipline in face of sensual desires. He argues that men should rid themselves of the irrational fear of death. We shall first examine the paragraph where Epicurus directly delivers his philosophy of death followed by a few necessary clarifications; finally, we will analyze what contributes to the opposite attitudes that Epicurus and common people hold towards losing consciousness.

In the last five paragraphs of the letter, Epicurus offers his view of the correct life philosophy. He starts by asserting that the ultimate purpose of life is to avoid pain and achieve pleasure. Pleasure, he believes, is “the alpha and omega of life”; whether or not one acquires pleasure should be standard by which we judge anything as good, and every other good springs from this supreme good. Unlike Plato, Epicurus rejects the idea of an afterlife, even for a disembodied soul. As a materialist and an empiricist, Epicurus’s “death” is an absolute termination of consciousness. All sensations disappear along with the death of the body, which marks the end of experience. Therefore, Epicurus conceives of pleasure as something exclusive to this life. With these premises in mind, we can now reconstruct the Epicurean argument as follows: a) in order to be affected, one at least needs to have sensation; b) all sensations cease when the body dies; c) so according to a) and b), death does not affect the dead; d) death is an annihilation; e) the living not yet annihilated; f) so death don’t affect the living; g) therefore, death is nothing to us. To cease to exist is not a harm, even though it prevents one from experiencing pleasure. In conclusion, Epicurus argues that “death is nothing to us because it neither affects the living nor the dead.”

For clarification, the modern understanding of the word “hedonistic” gives a picture opposite to Epicurus’s intention. While today “hedonistic” represents indulgence in sensual pleasure, its original meaning was simply to pursue pleasure as life’s ultimate goal. According to Epicurus, pleasure is a state of satisfaction rather than excitement.  He believes that any excessive pursuit of sensual pleasure will inflict pain.  For example, it is better to enjoy alcohol in moderation; for if one drinks too much wine, one will suffer a hangover and may become a slave to addiction. Epicurus’s principle is to seek milder and restrained pleasures in order to avoid the pains that follow intense and unrestrained pleasures. Moreover, accustoming oneself to satisfaction will reduce unhappiness if one’s source of pleasure becomes unavailable. He also lowers the bar for satisfaction so that one will maximize enjoyment over the long term, as he says, “…and self-sufficiency we believe to be a great good, not that we may live on little under all circumstances but that we may be content with little when we do not have plenty.” He doesn’t only argue against excessive sensual pleasures but also suggests reducing ordinary ones. Therefore, for Epicurus, “pleasure” differs greatly from what “hedonism” suggests today.

Many readers find Epicurus’s argument unconvincing because it contradicts their pre-reflective intuitions. Modern science is based on a material, empirical worldview, the same as Epicurus’s. Under the influence of modern medical theories, today’s people’s general understanding of death can be generally summarized as such: the loss of consciousness, the inactivation of body cells, and disintegration into basic particles. Epicurus comprehended death very similarly to how these peoples do today in that they agree one loses consciousness when one dies.  But while people today find this exactly the point that triggers fear, Epicurus sees it instead as precisely the reason to dispel fear. Based on the above argumentation, the gap between Epicurus’s stance and common opinion lies not in their understanding of death as the end of consciousness, but mainly in other aspects of his philosophy.

 


2.3.2 Common Criticism against Epicurus

The Epicurean argument has been a popular target for criticism for it makes a claim that contradicts our instincts so strongly with such simple reasoning. To identify exactly why our instinct oppose Epicurus, we should distinguish several different meanings of “harm” as the term is used in Epicurus’s argument. First, harm in Epicurus’s argument differs from harm as it is commonly understood. Olson’s analysis points out, the distinction between “intrinsic” and “extrinsic” harm seems to be of great significance. If being dead is not extrinsically harmful, it’s because being dead does not deprive one of good things; and if being dead is not intrinsically harmful, it’s because death does not bring pain in itself. Quoting from his letter to Menoeceus, “nothing that is harmless when present has any right to pain us in anticipation,” it is relatively clear that being harmful/harmless “when present” suggests an intrinsic property that death has. Epicurus argues "death is harmless when it's present, because the deceased is unable to feel pain," and by doing so he shows that death is intrinsically harmless under his premises. However, it shows that he arguably misconceives the essence of what troubles people about death. People are well aware that death is not intrinsically harmful, but they are worried about the extrinsic harms of death. Some of the extrinsic harms are the sickness and bodily decay that comes before death; and others, according to Pitcher, can be the consequences that death brings to the antemortem person—the deprivation of a possible praemia vitae (the closest alternate life than death). The reason why people innately detest death is that its deprivations are permanent and irreversible, while they have a yearning for possibilities, and in this case, a yearning for a world in which the deceased could’ve been present. In this world, there is a certain probability of experiencing more pleasure, and this opportunity for future pleasure incites humans’ wish to pursue longer lifespans. Death deprives people of all these possibilities. Harm in this sense, is the denial of possible pleasure, an extrinsic harm, which Epicurus has not considered in his argument.

Second, Epicurus argues that being alive excludes the harm of death. Here he implies that the harm of death is temporal/momentary, meaning that it can occur only at the moment of death. But this is a questionable assumption. Epicurus’s argument fails because humans are naturally creatures who make plans and undertake projects that require sacrifices in the form of effort, investment, and opportunity costs during one’s lifetime.  If one dies before one’s project has been completed, then all one’s time and effort becomes wasted, which is surely a harm. Death, by frustrating one’s plans, makes nonsense of at least some of the activities of one’s life.  In dying, one is harmed in the sense that many of one’s efforts while alive have become wasted. If one argues that we should live in the moment instead of project into the future, then he would be contradicting Epicurus’s own logic, because Epicurus teaches to enjoy in moderation precisely to avoid future pains.

 


2.4 Confucianism

Confucius (551-479 BCE) is a highly influential figure in Asian philosophy. Chinese authorities advocated his teachings as mainstream morals through most of Chinese history. His ideas have permeated the minds of Chinese people, and were also transmitted to other East Asian countries such as Japan, Korea, and Vietnam. Ironically, we know very little about him despite his extraordinary impact; most of our knowledge traces back to one text known as the Analects, a collection of dialogues between Confucius and his disciples. In the Analects, Confucius does not argue in an analytical-logical manner but rather in an aphoristic style; focused on secular ethics, he is almost entirely silent on the metaphysical nature of death. However, he occasionally refers to death while offering advice on how to live correctly; and from these comments, we can reconstruct a deeper perspective into the Confucian view on death.
Confucius’ view of death is best understood in terms of theodicy, which is an explanation for divine anger with humanity. He acquired a huge theistic heritage from the ancient Chinese world. Ancient Chinese people believed that a supreme being called “Tian” (which directly translates to “heaven” in English) has absolute power over the whole universe and decrees the progress of their lives, which indicates that people’s fated span of existence is predetermined. One may attempt to resist death for example by running out of a burning building, but whether one succeeds is determined not by one’s own action but by the power of Tian. Therefore, any attempt to resist death would be useless if Tian divinely orders otherwise. Confucius’s teaching coincides with Epicurus’s, Plato’s, and Zhuangzi’s, insofar as they concur that death should not be the cause of worries; but it differs from the views of these philosophers in that it does not comprehend death as a harmless event. The Confucian attitude marks a surrender to undeniable fate—one should not even think about the nature of death because one has no power to embrace or escape it. 

Another signature feature of Confucianism is its moral activism. In particular, Confucius strongly advocates the concept of “Li” as a guide to proper manners and taste and the concept of “De” as a combination of many good principles such as honesty, self-esteem, and loyalty, etc. Following these concepts is what he deems the foundation of a harmonious society and the successful reign of a king. Interestingly, he often mentions death in discussing major moral concepts. For example, he once says:

“Having learned the Dao in the morning, one could die content in the evening that day.”

This statement has two main implications. First, it indicates that death is not a favorable occurrence. A more direct translation would be: “If the Dao is understood, one can be happy even if one dies,” which makes the negative connotation more obvious. His negative impression of death is further clarified when he addresses his death of a favorite disciple in a clearly devastated tone: “Tian wanted your death! Tian wanted your death!” Unlike Zhuangzi, he clearly thinks that the death of virtuous people should be mourned as he expresses lamentation with disappointment in his inability to defy the orders of the Tian.

Second, he suggests that after learning the Dao, one no longer needs to continue living because one has completed one’s life’s ultimate purpose. Another saying of his is usually translated: “Die a martyr.” But a better, more direct translation would be: “One can kill oneself for the completion of Ren.” Ren is a concept very similar to De, except that Ren is more exclusively Confucian and refers specifically to the Confucian ideal of self-cultivation. Confucius therefore is reinforcing the idea that moral pursuits are the sole purpose of life, and coming to an understanding of Dao (i.e. living a moral life) removes all reason to live longer.

 

3. Comparison

Although all four philosophers claim it unnecessary to worry about death, the presuppositions behind their ideology seem quite varied. We are going to compare their ideas, point out several similarities and differences, and conclude what we can learn about their perception of death and how the perception affects their attitudes toward death.


3.1. Evaluation of the individual’s wellbeing after death

These philosophers evaluate the individual’s wellbeing after death differently. While Plato believes that philosophers rejoice more in the afterworld, Epicurus deems the state of “being dead” neither better nor worse than being alive. On the other hand, although Zhuangzi and Confucius have not directly described what the after-death experience is like, we may deduce that Zhuangzi’s attitude leans towards the positive while Confucius’s leans towards the negative. Zhuangzi’s conversation with the skull (which represents the dead) appears in the chapter of “perfect happiness (至乐).” He also states that his dead wife “returns to her initial state” and “rests peacefully at one with the Dao.” Zhuangzi’s understanding of the post-death condition certainly has positive hues. Confucius, on the other hand, has mourned and grieved at the death of his disciples. Since Confucius never blesses to the soul of the deceased, we may infer that unlike Plato and Zhuangzi, he disbelieves in the promise of happiness in the afterworld, despite his fervent advocacy of ancestor worship—probably because he has never seriously considered what condition the ancestors rest in. Confucius once answered a disciple who asked about death, “how can you understand death without knowing how to live properly first?” He thereby defended the importance of focusing on life, while offering only a vague, indirect answer to someone seeking advice about death. Confucius here is reluctant to talk about death probably because his belief in ancestor worship leads him to venerate the dead so strongly that it becomes taboo to discuss what happens to souls.

Even in China today, the dead are often regarded as too sacred to speak about. However, even if his belief in the sanctity of the dead does not underlie his silence, the fact remains that he chooses silence, never confronting the topic of death anywhere in his teachings. His attitude towards death has been consistently negative, and he is also the only person of the four whose teachings ignore the metaphysical aspect of death. Therefore, one’s attitude towards death very likely correlates with how directly one confronts death and how deeply one investigates the matter. Specifically, people who philosophize about the nature of death tend to perceive it less negatively. Presumably, this is plausible because while people’s natural impression of death is generally negative, philosophical investigations, reaching into tend to challenge people’s feelings and prejudgments, thereby creating the chance to change their mindsets and reverse unreflective perceptions.

 

3.2. The symmetry argument and the cyclical argument

Lucretius, a significant figure in Epicurean philosophy, raises the symmetry argument in his book De Rerum Natura, written in the first century BCE. The symmetry argument compares post-mortem non-existence with prenatal non-existence to challenge the rationality of fearing death. Lucretius argued that since we never fear not having existed prior to our birth, we shouldn’t fear not existing after our death, for the situations are, from a logical viewpoint, symmetrical. Moreover, Zhuangzi once mentions how his wife’s death returns her to the same state as before her birth. Although Epicurus himself never uses this argument, it still indicates a significant overlap between these two Epicureanism and Daoism. Both schools of thought suggest that death is not to be feared, because the state after death is the same as that before birth.

The cyclical argument refers to Plato’s claim that because everything in nature derives from its opposite, the dead and the living must also have come from, and return to, each other, in a process of unceasing exchange. This requires that the soul must be immortal because it is always traveling between this world and the afterworld. Plato then used argument to prove the soul’s immortality, a conclusion diametrically opposed to Epicureanism and Daoism. Nonetheless, he shares with Epicurus and Zhuangzi the notion that the unborn and the dead are alike because technically they are both souls residing in the underworld.

Interestingly, all three philosophers, despite differing greatly in experience and philosophical assumptions, agree on the similarity between pre-natal and post-mortem states of being. Note that both Plato and Zhuangzi formed their understanding through analogy, by applying rules observed in nature to the life and death of human beings. Both of them perceived life and death as stages in a revolving, cyclical process of growth, decay, and renewal. The difference however, lies in their account of what happens during this mysterious death interval between lifetimes. Zhuangzi sides with Lucretius, choosing to comprehend death as a period of nothingness, while Plato, who approaches the matter with dualistic presumptions, chooses to believe that this contains concrete substance.

 


3.3 Making sense of mortality

All four philosophers obviously understand the inevitability of death. However, they differ in their ways to find an appropriate explanation for this fate.
Epicurus doesn’t make much attempt at all. It seems that he simply accepts the fact that he will die and proceed to the question of how this fate will affect his experience. It follows from his hedonistic philosophy to focus only on pains and pleasures and ridding oneself of all other unnecessary thoughts. Plato, on the other hand, sees mortality as part of a natural cycle that all human beings must experience—an idea similar to the Daoist belief. However, Daoism differs from Plato’s philosophy in naming the law of nature, the “Dao,” which connects it to Confucianism. Historically speaking, Daoism strongly affected Confucianism, which explains why Confucius found a similar explanation for death, namely, the “Tian”. While “Dao” and “Tian” both denote laws that all beings follow, the Dao is closer to an impersonal law of nature while Tian is characterized as a supreme power with its own wills. This subtle shift in the supreme power’s characteristics led to huge differences in each philosophical school’s attitude to death. Because Zhuangzi regards the supreme law as a mystical force of nature (the Dao), he accepts death more readily as an unavoidable process. Confucius, however, does not accept death as easily, because he conceives of the supreme law as the expression of a power possessing vaguely human characteristics (the Tian), he associates death more strongly with moral behavior in one’s lifetime.

 

Conclusion

Although the four philosophers covered in this study disagreed about death, one thing remains certain, namely, that death naturally alarms them and fills them with terror. The mere fact that ancient philosophers went to great lengths to dispel the fear of death proves how deeply it is rooted in the human psyche. Therefore, the first step to resolving one’s own fear of death is to accept the inevitability of death and to tackle one’s emotions objectively, as these philosophers seek to do.
Having completed this comparison, I realized that the process of how Epicurus, Plato, and Zhuangzi overcame their conflicted feelings about death resembles “exposure therapy” in contemporary clinical psychology. Exposure therapy confronts a patient with the source of their fear, but in a situation without real danger. The goal of this therapy is to overcome the patient’s tendency to connect the cause of his or her fear with the fearful emotion it triggers. But, obviously, this treatment is impossible in the case of one’s own death, because one cannot experience one’s own death post facto in a controlled and harmless way. Nonetheless, their central idea is similar: normalization.  These philosophers normalize the idea of death by constantly thinking about it. Moreover, they tend to think about death in ways that link death to other, positive ideas such as life cycles and natural harmony. By questioning the validity of fear, they associate and reinforce a connection between death and more neutral emotions. Confucius, on the other hand, fails to address the fear of death because he hardly touched on this topic. His philosophy is therefore an anomaly with respect with the others.

I personally have found Epicurus and Zhuangzi to be the most helpful in coming to terms with the emotion that prompted me to embark on this study. Epicurus and Zhuangzi share a similar metaphysical worldview with contemporary people since they are still able to accept death calmly while agreeing that it marks the end of consciousness. Their philosophies might therefore be the best ones to help us deal with our own struggles. As Wittgenstein said in Tractatus 6.4311, “Death is not an event in life: we do not live to experience death. If we take eternity to mean not infinite temporal duration but timelessness, then eternal life belongs to those who live in the present. Our life has no end in the way in which our visual field has no limits.”  But I thank, not Wittgenstein, but Epicurus and Zhuangzi for bringing me to this position. However ancient, their perspectives still enlighten people like me to this day. When it comes to resolving internal struggles against the fate of death, the ancient minds might be of greater value than we have estimated.


The author's comments:

In the 7th grade, I encountered a book that helped me come to terms with my own anxiety about death. It turned out that the author of this book was interested in Nietzsche and Schopenhauer, who were the first philosophers I read and shaped my worldview. I valued this book a lot, so when it mentioned Epicurus's philosophy as a tool of coping with death anxiety, I immediately started researching him in more depth. As is well known, he denied the rationality of fearing death, but I believed there must be an explanation for my instinctual fear, so I tried to argue against him through logic--and that's how I fell in love with the methods of philosophy. After being introduced to ancient Greek philosophy, I started digging into the writings of other ancient philosophers such as Plato's "Phaedo" and "The Republic." I sought to combine and harmonize the ideas of the Ancient Greek philosophers with the ideas of the Chinese philosophers that I’d studied while growing up in Beijing. And that marks the beginning of my research.


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