Book Club: Heraclitus: Fragments

I've been on a lightly philosophical streak lately, flirting with ancient philosophy. I think it's because I've realized that I still think I agree with some ancient philosophers on everything important. Of course everything that has come later is a footnote next to that corpus. And, reading it feels like finding a friend in this strange world of keeping up with appearances.

So, I went ahead and read this book titled Heraclitus: Fragments, translated and commented upon by T. M. Robinson (English). It even has what I believe to be the same text in Greek, written next to the translations, although, I admit that that's not particularly valuable to me, since I don't know much Greek, ancient or otherwise. However, the book is named thus because all that remains of Heraclitus's masterful wisdom are fragments only, so, not really his book as such. Still, those fragments are some of the most peculiar stuff I've ever found.

I'll share some excerpts that I liked here, and maybe comment some by describing the thoughts I had when reading them.

Corpses are more fit to be thrown out than dung. A very interesting one right there. Because what is a corpse anyway? Of course, a corpse is something that is dead; could be a dead person, but could also be a dead idea, a dead custom. A dead imagination that is artificially kept alive with large rewards. The original, inner motivation dead, the hunger, gone. Of course, corpses are useless, and so we shouldn't revere the living dead. But we do that all the time, when we go for the familiar instead of the good.

[And Heraclitus said, admirably, that] souls (have (use) the sense of) smell in Hades. In other words, if you live in a state where you're in a kind of hell, you're reduced to smelling and sussing things out like a dog. Funny how that always seems to be the case, so it makes for a cool indicator for where hell might be found. It's that people aren't forthright with you (either because they don't want to or because they can't). And dogs just bark at whomsoever they do not recognize. That is, ignorance begets commotion.

To god all things are fair and just, whereas humans have supposed that some things are unjust, other things just. Just incredible. Because that is how it must be, even when humans whine about how god allows all these horrible and disgusting things to happen. "Do we really need such a god?", they say. Whatever the case may be, there is actually no choice in the matter.

Thinking is common to all. In my perhaps simplistic interpretation, this sounds like Heraclitus is saying that everything that exists must be subject to thinking. That would certainly be an interesting point of view, given that it was presented roughly between 500 and 480 BCE, if memory serves. Indeed, Descartes famously said much later "I think, therefore I am", or something to that effect. Well, is it true? Sure, perhaps the only reason why one should believe anything exists is because something thinks, and you have some visibility to these produced thoughts. This echoes plenty of other, later philosophers' ideas. And just like Heraclitus would also say, All people have a claim to self-knowledge and sound thinking. Talk about pre-emption there. And talk about how curious it is that Heraclitus's original work, where this quote might have been expounded upon, has not survived.

Soul possesses a logos ... which increases itself. And indeed it does, until it can't anymore, which is when it will either be destroyed or transformed, as I believe the Stoics would later say. Isn't that right? A single being gathers information, until it is impossible for it to contain any more. Ultimately, there are no other beings (and it might just be how one recognizes a being in the first place).

Again, when reading this book, I'm reminded of Buddhism. A similar thing has happened to me plenty of times. Figures, of course, because I've some passing knowledge of it, so I end up seeing it everywhere. But just how disgustingly similar are the two trains of thought? According to Heraclitus, there is a "logos", a hidden ruleset or "the way" according to which things occur (precise interpretations differ somewhat). Sounds rather like Dharma to me. And yet, there's more: Buddhists talk about the middle way, understanding everything not as one or the other, whereas Heraclitus says: all is one. Indeed, everything is in flux and you can't step in the same river twice, says Heraclitus: Anicca, the Buddhist notion of impermanence. We are and are not, says Heraclitus: Anattā, the Buddhist doctrine of no-self.

And of course, Heraclitus should remind everyone of Christianity, too. My personal take-home message from all of this is that the Christians stole the idea of god from the ancients, kind of like how Microsoft stole Java by creating C#. I'm just kidding, obviously.

So, just how strict should my interpretation of Heraclitus's work be? I'm not sure. Maybe it's a leap to think much of anything based on simple fragments, after all.

They are separated from that with which they are in the most continuous contact. This reminds me of the idea that the smallest of differences become more apparent when the environment discourages the same things universally. Another interpretation could be that it's about how you learn about differences in the first place: on a higher scale of abstraction, more and more things look the same. Both are about setting (or unsetting) constraints. A third interpretation could be that there is a specific thing that connects all – the world, let's say – but we experience it as being separate from it.

But the one curious thing about constraints is that the minimum amount of control actually ends up being the maximum amount. It's because if there's nothing in common, then you can't relate to anything. That means maximum freedom given, with a minimum amount of things that could be done with it. It will then always be due to blind luck or a kind of arbitration, if indeed you manage anything. And so, in other words, there's a minimum chance, then, of "coming in contact" with anything meaningful to you, given total freedom. Unless it's not chance.

A road up (and) down (is) one and the same (road). This one is really interesting, because it too hints at something universal. Moving along a straight line in one direction is literally the same thing as moving in the opposite direction, all you need to do is look at it upside down. But then, even chaos and order are one and the same. It's because total chaos is actually a deceptively simple thing to describe. Similarly, total order could require incredible amounts of detail to describe it all. In other words, just like in a computer, if you switch the instructions and the data (in specific cases), so too order and chaos switch places. It's a frame of reference switch. Think metaprogramming; think of a pseudorandom number generator.

Indeed, if you think there's something special about order in general, that's when things get wild. Say it is in fact order itself that springs forth the entire universe, with some hard lower limit for entropy. But that's fine, because you cannot do inference without making assumptions.

Is it possible to recognize true randomness from mere complexity? That old chestnut.

According to the commentaries in my copy of Fragments, Heraclitus was from Ephesus, modern day Turkey – or Türkiye, if you want. This is very interesting. Maybe someday I can visit this place and see it for myself, preferably before the world gets blown up by stupid people. Indeed, it is the cranky thinkers of ages past who lived there that are absolutely the best selling points for any geographic location.

On a final note, I think I read this one before, years and years ago, but can't remember when it was exactly. It may have been in Finnish, too, I'm not sure. I think what it did to me last time was make me start feeling like everyone was full of shit. Now, I wouldn't be quite so harsh anymore in my estimations. So I was thinking maybe I'll read the Enneads next.