What can philosophers tell us, as philosophers, about death? Much more, I suggest, than one would know from reading most current ‘conceptual’ writing about it. Such writing often begins by acknowledging Epicurus, maybe also mentioning Lucretius; after which, what? Well, then we rejoin our fellow ‘conceptual’ philosophers. We concentrate on a few carefully circumscribed metaphysical questions, perhaps supplemented by some ethics. We might seek to shape and defend, for instance, a deprivation account of the possible harm in being dead, possibly taking our cue from T. Nagel's ‘Death’ (Mortal Questions [1979]). But we need not tarry in the ancient world, having paid our respects to Epicurus and Lucretius.
Yet we would be well-advised to linger there, as L. makes manifest. He does not do this by entering deeply into contemporary discussions, explaining how they suffer in comparison with, or by neglecting, some ancient philosophy. He adverts only occasionally to that ‘conceptual’ literature. What L. mainly does – rather well – is to hold our philosophical attention in that ancient world. Not only Epicurus and Lucretius, it deserves to be known more widely, had philosophically challenging and possibly-still-fruitful ideas about death.
L.’s book focuses first on immortality, next on death. In discussing immortality, contemporary ‘conceptual’ philosophers rarely venture off the path laid down by B. Williams's ‘The Makropulos Case: Reflections on the Tedium of Immortality’ (Problems of the Self [1973]). And L. does begin with that puzzling piece (pp. 7–8, 10). Swiftly, though, he moves beyond its focus on the possibility of an everlasting life, by inviting us to consider the gods in some ancient Greek poetry and philosophy. Why so? ‘As in some passages of Homer, Empedocles does not [contrary to what ‘is usually the primary or only consideration in modern philosophical discussions of immortality’] make everlastingness a necessary condition for immortality. Instead, the criteria are living as a god and not being subject to the intra-cosmic process of death’ (p. 27, my emphasis). Reincarnation ‘can end in a blissful state’, says Empedocles, who ‘would call even that outcome immortality’ (ibid.). In Chapter 2 it is stated that Plato (Phaedo, Phaedrus, Symposium, Laws, Gorgias, Timaeus, Euthydemus) ‘will try to make sense of immortality and immortalization without godhood. But even in Plato there is often an expectation that immortal items should be in some sense divine, not, or not merely, everlasting’ (p. 28). That theme continues in Chapter 3, where we meet ‘three attributions of immortality without everlastingness: Aristotle's discussion of intellectual contemplation, Epicureans on immortal goods and “imperishable” human beings, and the Stoic Chrysippus on immortal souls and gods’ (p. 63). Aristotle, for example, has an ‘exhortation to make ourselves immortal within lives of finite length’ (ibid.). And Stoicism includes the idea that ‘virtuous souls attain immortality, despite their finite duration’ (p. 85).
All this can make contemporary philosophical discussions of immortality feel conceptually cramped. For example, in his excellent The Philosophy of Death (2009) S. Luper has only one passing mention (p. 4) of immortality; even then, only in the sense of existing everlastingly. It is therefore refreshing to be reminded of the idea of immortality encompassing also one's living in some way that amounts to an ideal. Of course we will ask whether that idea is satisfiable. But even if our answer is ‘no’, articulating our reasons might be conceptually useful. The question is analogous to one within epistemology: is infallible (perfect, godlike) knowledge possible, let alone actual? Reflecting on what infallible knowledge would involve might reveal something about how we do know (albeit fallibly).
Next, death (so to speak); and here, again, L.’s book is helpful for contemporary philosophical debate. He directs us initially (Chapter 4) – before the obligatory treatment (Chapter 5) of Epicurean accounts – to Plato (Apology, Phaedo) and Cicero (Tusculan Disputations). Partly, this is to remind us that ‘there are other [non-Epicurean] ancient traditions which do not lay to rest doubts about the outcome of death, but seek nonetheless to provide comfort by reasoning about the correct attitude to death’ (p. 89). Unsurprisingly, we therefore consider anew ‘Socrates’ comments on death near the end of Plato's Apology’ (ibid.). After all, what if Epicurus was mistaken about the nature of being dead? What if we cannot be (epistemically) certain of what happens to us posthumously? What if, instead, an agnosticism about this is rationally apt? These questions pertain also to Academic scepticism and Stoicism (including the Roman Stoics Seneca and Marcus Aurelius – Chapter 6). In short, larger philosophical perspectives on this issue, including ones that seek to be comforting about one's future death, should consider more than Epicureanism. And L. is a notably careful guide: ‘From a purely practical or consolatory point of view, the thought that fearlessness need not be underpinned by certainty marginalizes Epicurean endeavours to prove decisively that the soul will be destroyed’ (p. 89).
This does not imply that L. gives less attention to Epicurus than is merited. On the contrary, L.’s discussion (pp. 121–34) of Epicurus on how we should view death is valuable. I recommend L.’s philosophically astute readings of Key Doctrines 2 and the Letter to Menoeceus. I also welcome L.’s proposal, inspired by his reading of Epicurus on virtue (pp. 129–32), as to how Epicurus might have replied to any supposedly anti-Epicurean deprivation accounts (mentioned above, as popular among current philosophers) of the possible harm for a person in being dead.
Also valuable in that respect are L.’s accounts of the Epicureans Philodemus (pp. 134–46) and Lucretius (pp. 146–9), not to mention his extensive treatment (Chapter 6) of symmetry arguments. Contemporary philosophers often assume (p. 162) that the latter arise only from Lucretius. But L. shows how the symmetry reasoning is not even essentially Epicurean in spirit (pp. 162–8), as he discusses Seneca, Plutarch and the pseudo-Platonic Axiochus.
The book ends with a chapter on ancient ‘social, political and religious considerations’ on ‘the appropriateness’, contextually determined, of suicide (p. 174). We hear from Socrates (Phaedo, Crito); we visit Plato's Laws; we enter into a conceptual puzzle of Aristotle's, concerning suicide and injustice (Nicomachean Ethics 5); we close with Cicero (On Moral Ends 3), along with a few further Stoic thoughts (such as from Epictetus).
How does L.’s book compare with its closest ‘competitor’, J. Warren's Facing Death: Epicurus and his Critics (2004)? Warren engages with a wider range of non-historical current philosophy; often, L.’s mention of ‘recent debate’ directs us mainly to Warren. Still, this flows from L.’s book being more an immersion purely in the ancient world. Thus, some pertinent authors and works appear in L.’s book but not in Warren's – most obviously Marcus Aurelius, Empedocles, Epictetus, Pindar, Chrysippus and Cleanthes. Plato's presence is also greater in L's book: L. has far more on the Apology, Phaedo, Republic and Symposium – and much (as opposed to Warren's silence) on the Laws, Phaedrus and Timaeus.
I highly recommend L.’s clearly written and insightfully organised book. I believe that it is a solid work of reference for ancient philosophy scholars. I know that it should be read by contemporary ‘conceptual’ philosophers writing on death: some of what was old might deserve to become new again.
