Fleeing from freedom

Fleeing from freedom

“The School of Athens” by Raphael (ca. 1510)

Originally published 31 March 1997

It is almost a cliche to say that West­ern civ­i­liza­tion was cre­at­ed by the Greeks. Our gov­ern­ment, law, art, music, archi­tec­ture, lit­er­a­ture, dra­ma, his­to­ri­og­ra­phy, sci­ence, and math­e­mat­ics are large­ly Greek inven­tions. We could be dropped into a city state of the Pelo­pon­nesian Penin­su­la in the 4th cen­tu­ry B.C. and feel pret­ty much at home. Only the absence of mod­ern tech­nol­o­gy and the insti­tu­tion of slav­ery would seem alien.

Begin­ning about 600 B.C., the Greeks embarked upon an aston­ish­ing peri­od of cre­ativ­i­ty char­ac­ter­ized, in the words of clas­si­cal schol­ar E. R. Dodds, by a “pro­gres­sive replace­ment of the mytho­log­i­cal by ratio­nal think­ing.” From the found­ing of the Lyceum about 335 B.C. to the end of the 3rd cen­tu­ry B.C., Greek sci­ence was trans­formed from “an untidy jum­ble of iso­lat­ed obser­va­tions mixed with a pri­ori guess­es into a sys­tem of method­i­cal disciplines.”

Botany, zool­o­gy, and geog­ra­phy flour­ished. Math­e­mat­ics and astron­o­my reached a lev­el that would not be equaled again until the time of Galileo. Sci­en­tists and math­e­mati­cians gath­ered in places like Alexan­dria from all over the Mediter­ranean world. It mat­tered lit­tle where a per­son was born or what his ances­try was; tra­di­tion­al ways of doing things were shak­en up by a new cos­mopoli­tan culture.

In his book, The Greeks and the Irra­tional, Dodds writes: “Despite its lack of polit­i­cal free­dom, the soci­ety of the third cen­tu­ry B.C. was in many ways the near­est approach to an ‘open’ soci­ety that the world had yet seen, and near­er than any that would be seen again until mod­ern times.”

It was a soci­ety con­fi­dent of its pow­ers. Aris­to­tle asked his fel­low cit­i­zens to rec­og­nize a divine spark with­in them­selves: the intel­lect. Men and women who exer­cise rea­son can live like gods, he said. For Zeno, the human intel­lect is not mere­ly akin to God, it is God, a por­tion of the divine sub­stance. Tem­ples are super­flu­ous, he said; God’s true tem­ple is the human intellect.

Of this supreme con­fi­dence in ratio­nal thought, West­ern civ­i­liza­tion was forged.

But the seeds of irra­tional­i­ty were also there, embed­ded in pop­u­lar cul­ture, or per­haps embed­ded in the human soul. By the end of the Age of Per­i­cles, a fear of the new free­dom had set in. Super­nat­u­ral­ism returned. Astrol­o­gy and mag­i­cal heal­ing replaced astron­o­my and med­i­cine. Cults flour­ished, ratio­nal­ists were scape­goat­ed, and sci­en­tif­ic cul­ture began to decline.

The old dualisms — mind and mat­ter, God and nature, soul and appetites — which the ratio­nal­ists had striv­en to over­come, reassert­ed them­selves with fresh vig­or. Dodds calls it “the return of the irrational.”

He writes: “As the intel­lec­tu­als with­drew fur­ther into a world of their own, the pop­u­lar mind was left increas­ing­ly defenseless…and left with­out guid­ance, a grow­ing num­ber relapsed with a sigh of relief into the plea­sures and com­forts of the primitive…better the rigid deter­min­ism of the astro­log­i­cal Fate than the ter­ri­fy­ing bur­den of dai­ly responsibility.”

Har­vard his­to­ri­an of sci­ence Ger­ald Holton sees a sim­i­lar­i­ty between Dodds’ descrip­tion of the decline of Greek cul­ture and the resur­gence of anti-sci­ence in our own time. Once again, astrol­o­gy, mag­i­cal heal­ing, and oth­er kinds of super­sti­tious think­ing are in ascen­dan­cy. Once again, cults flour­ish and ratio­nal­ists are scapegoated.

The Greek expe­ri­ence shows that move­ments to dele­git­imize sci­ence are always present, says Holton, ready to bend civ­i­liza­tion their way by the glo­ri­fi­ca­tion of folk belief, vio­lence, mys­ti­fi­ca­tion, and the rabid ide­olo­gies of eth­nic and nation­al­is­tic passions.

In a 1996 Time mag­a­zine essay, called “The Return of the Prim­i­tive,” Charles Krautham­mer made a sim­i­lar point. The world of sci­en­tif­ic fact is too much for us, he writes. Over­whelmed by the demand­ing com­plex­i­ty of sci­ence, we turn instead to pen­ny mys­ter­ies, to potions, auras, and alter­na­tive heal­ing, and give rapt atten­tion to bear­ers of tales of alien abduc­tions and Satanism.

We yearn with Wordsworth “to be pagan, suck­led in a creed out­worn,” says Krautham­mer. This is what in the Greek con­text E. R. Dodds called “the fear of free­dom — the uncon­scious flight from the heavy bur­den of indi­vid­ual choice which an open soci­ety lays upon its members.”

Sci­ence can only pros­per in a free and open soci­ety, in an atmos­phere of ratio­nal skep­ti­cism where tra­di­tion­al pat­terns of thought are chal­lenged and sub­ject­ed to crit­i­cal scruti­ny. Sci­ence will only flour­ish when a peo­ple have con­fi­dence in the pow­er of the human intel­lect to make sense of the world.

Why did the Greeks recoil from the path of ratio­nal sci­ence? Why do we recoil from our own Enlight­en­ment? Dodds blames “those irra­tional ele­ments in human nature which gov­ern with­out our knowl­edge so much of our behav­ior and so much of what we think is our thinking.”

Last week’s tragedy in Cal­i­for­nia con­firms that the irra­tional is always with us. Unless we learn to under­stand it and con­fi­dent­ly face it down, the great mod­ern exper­i­ment with ratio­nal­ism may come to the same murky end as did the Gold­en Age of the Greeks — a closed, super­sti­tious soci­ety that lives in fear of freedom.

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