All posts by Robert M Ellis

About Robert M Ellis

Robert M Ellis is the founder of the Middle Way Society, and author of a number of books on Middle Way Philosophy, including the introductory 'Migglism' and the new Middle Way Philosophy series published by Equinox. A former teacher, he now runs a retreat centre in Wales, Tirylan House, and is in the process of creating a forest garden there.

What is a sceptic?

This is a re-blog of an article that some people have found helpful on my old ‘Middle Way Philosophy’ blog.

Scepticism (or skepticism, US style) is potentially a big liberating factor in our lives, yet like most ideas that started off in a blaze of insight, it has become caught up in entrenched dualistic conflicts. All scepticism involves some degree of recognition of uncertainty about what others take to be true – but the crucial thing is how you then respond to that uncertainty. Pyrrho of Elis, the first Greek sceptic, was very probably inspired by Indian sources, and his approach contains many crucial elements of Middle Way thinking. Yet the overwhelming use of the word ‘sceptic’ today is that of a mere denier of a widely-held view on one topic: we hear much more about Climate Change sceptics and Euro Sceptics than we do about Pyrrhonian sceptics.

I can identify at least four meanings of the word ‘sceptic’. Philosophy textbooks talk about the distinction between ‘global’ and ‘local’ scepticism – being sceptical about everything as opposed to being sceptical about only one or a few things. Then there is another distinction which I think is hugely important but widely unappreciated: between denying a position and remaining in balanced agnosticism. Put those two sets of distinctions together and you get an analysis of four types of sceptic:

  1. The local denier. This is by far the most common use of the term ‘sceptic’ at present. It refers only to people who disagree with another position and have a definitely contrary position. Such ‘scepticism’ is often applied to revelatory religious belief, for example, or to a public issue like Climate Change. Such ‘sceptics’ take advantage of uncertainties in the position they are opposing, but are almost never prepared to recognise the often equal degree of uncertainty in their own position.
  2. The local agnostic Just occasionally, scepticism about a particular issue does lead to a genuine open-mindedness in which the uncertainties of one’s own position are also appreciated in relation to that issue. This is the case, for example, with agnostics about God who have not yet recognised the same degree of uncertainty in many other issues. However, such agnostics suffer from a cultural prejudice against agnosticism in the West, which depicts agnostics as wishy-washy and indecisive. On the contrary, agnosticism, even just about a single issue such as God, often requires a fair amount of courage.
  3. The global denier This is the belief that because all positions are uncertain, therefore they should all be definitely denied. Following the assumptions of David Hume, most western philosophers since have wrongly interpreted Pyrrho in this way: but in the ancient world this view was represented not by Pyrrho but by his opponents – ‘Academic’ sceptics such as Carneades. I think Hume was right in thinking that nobody could seriously and practically hold this position as though they meant it, because it is impossible for us to live our lives without some beliefs about the world around us. It is also self-contradictory, because global scepticism is itself a belief to be denied. The problem was just that Hume thought that was all there was to scepticism.
  4. The global agnostic This is the belief that there is uncertainty about all possible beliefs, and that uncertainty should lead us to hold all beliefs provisionally to the extent that we can justify them through experience. This is the view that I hold, or at least aspire to hold, myself, and that I think is broadly the most helpful interpretation both of Pyrrho’s scepticism and of the Buddha’s Middle Way. One of its implications as I see it is that we should reject dogmatic views that cannot be held provisionally – what I call metaphysical beliefs. So, for example, you cannot hold the belief that God exists provisionally – you either believe it or you don’t. Nor can you hold the belief that God does not exist provisionally. So it is essential to remain determinedly agnostic about God’s existence, whatever the cultural pressures towards one side or the other. Far from being impractical, as Hume depicted scepticism, this kind of scepticism is deeply pragmatic, as it clears the ground for beliefs that we can justify and act on only in experience and removes delusions that are likely to interfere in our effectiveness when acting in the world.

I don’t think that there is one essentially right way to use a word, or that older or ‘original’ ways are necessarily better. Nevertheless, for practical reasons, I lament the decline of scepticism, firstly at the hands of Hume, and then more recently at the hands of the scientific naturalists, who have tried to appropriate both scepticism and critical thinking to support approaches that are not philosophically even-handed. It seems that the understanding of scepticism even amongst those who count themselves as sceptics is haunted both by the idea that global scepticism is impossible and by the assumptions that you have to be naturalistic to apply scepticism. For example, to quote from the ‘About us’ section of the Skeptic magazine website:

“Skepticism has a long historical tradition dating back to ancient Greece, when Socrates observed: “All I know is that I know nothing.” But this pure position is sterile and unproductive and held by virtually no one. If you were skeptical about everything, you would have to be skeptical of your own skepticism.”

That all depends on how you interpret Socrates. For some reason the idea that we don’t have to make claims about truth or knowledge, but could accept just degrees of justification for provisional beliefs, doesn’t seem to be on the horizon of such self-identified sceptics. It is just assumed that knowing nothing requires that you also believe nothing – which seems obviously false, since knowledge is normally defined as justified true belief, not just as belief. We can maintain provisional beliefs with a degree of justification without claiming that they are true. Scepticism itself can also be part of a provisional framework adopted for practical reasons.

The same source goes on:

“Modern skepticism is embodied in the scientific method, which involves gathering data to formulate and test naturalistic explanations for natural phenomena. A claim becomes factual when it is confirmed to such an extent it would be reasonable to offer temporary agreement. But all facts in science are provisional and subject to challenge, and therefore skepticism is a method leading to provisional conclusions. Some claims, such as water dowsing, ESP, and creationism, have been tested (and failed the tests) often enough that we can provisionally conclude that they are not valid. Other claims, such as hypnosis, the origins of language, and black holes, have been tested but results are inconclusive so we must continue formulating and testing hypotheses and theories until we can reach a provisional conclusion.”

I applaud the evident intention of provisionality, and of balanced testing in relation to experience here, but such scepticism cannot be even-handed when it incorporates a prior filter of “naturalistic explanations for natural phenomena”. It is being assumed in such an approach that there is a “nature” with universally consistent laws (usually assuming physicalism and determinism) that are open to scientific investigation, and that “supernatural” explanations can be ruled out from the start. The requirements of public reproducibility in conventional scientific method also rule out from justified provisional belief all areas of individual experience that are not open to that kind of testing.

So this kind of scepticism, however much it may try to assume the mantle of Pyrrho and Socrates, is selective and local: it does not subject its own assumptions to sceptical scrutiny. Its naturalism also means that it slips into denial of supernatural phenomena from the start. I am not recommending belief in supernatural phenomena – but “natural” phenomena in the sense of those following absolute known universal laws which rule out the supernatural are equally beyond our experience. Thus I find this appropriation of scepticism by scientific naturalists misleading.

However, my reasons for preferring a global and agnostic understanding of scepticism are only based on a provisional understanding of the greater usefulness of this wider approach. Scepticism is a powerful tool for overcoming delusions, but only if it is used even-handedly rather than selectively. Used selectively it is all too often a tool of dogma that actually has the effect of preventing us from facing up to conditions, because it seems to effectively shoot down one side whilst leaving the other standing. It is no wonder that many people are unnerved by scepticism – it is powerful – but it is for that very reason that we need to use it with great care.

Weekend retreats

We now have our complete programme of weekend retreats for late 2014/ early 2015 up on the site and open for booking. They are as follows:

  • 7th-9th Nov 2014: Sussex, UK, Meaning and the Middle Way: link to page
  • 20th-22nd Feb 2015: Yorkshire, UK, Middle Way and Environment: link to page
  • 5th-7th Jun 2015, Worcestershire, UK, Meditation and the Middle Way: link to page

A weekend retreat can be a great opportunity to recharge your batteries, stimulate your Meditation's_face Eugenio Hansenideas, make friends and relax in a beautiful environment. It gives you a chance to sample our distinctive approach to philosophy and practice in the Middle Way Society, neither religious nor secular but integrating the strengths of both. Our weekend retreats are also good value, at only £80 each including all accommodation and food. Please book as soon as possible!

picture by Eugenio Hansen (Wikimedia Commons) CC-SY 2.0

A Middle Way Fable

I’ve been intending for some time to write a book of parables or fables about the Middle Way, and today I made a start by writing the first fable, which I thought I’d share with you. Comments, whether critical or supportive, might help me on my way to writing some more!

The Ship

Ship in straitThe lovely ship ‘Progress’, laden with passengers and cargo, was just entering the dangerous strait between Scyllia and Charybdisland when the weather began to look more threatening. Captain Jack Everyman scowled at the gathering cloud and the rising wind.

“It’s not looking good”, he said to his first mate, Mr Scyllius, “We could be driven straight onto those rocks if we call in at Scyllatown.”

“But we have to call in there!” protested Mr Scyllius, “My mother will be waiting for me, and she has a legacy to give me from my lately deceased uncle! Then the Prince of Scyllia wishes to join us on the voyage. We will displease him!”

“That won’t do any of us any good if the ship is turned to matchwood on the way” growled Everyman, “You and the Prince and your money will all alike go to feed the sharks.”

“Yes,” chimed in Mr Charyb, the Second Mate, who came from the rival state on the other side of the strait, “Scyllia is too dangerous at the best of times. The docks are thronged with cut-throats! I don’t know why the ship has to include it on the itinerary at all. Come to Charybdisland instead: it’s a great deal safer and friendlier. The people there are actually rational and behave like proper human beings!”

“Not likely,” Replied Everyman gruffly, “The passage into Charybport is just as dangerous. Not rocks but sandbanks! It may look smoother, but the threat lies just beneath the surface. Not in this weather!”

“But the Oracle of Charybport is due to give a final revelation!” cried Charyb, “I need to hear it! And the Chief Priest wants to join us on the voyage. He will be most displeased!”

“That seals it,” replied Everyman ironically, “If we’re lucky enough not be eaten by sharks, The Prince of Scyllia and the Chief Priest of Charybdis will probably kill each other in any case, and trash the ship in the process!”

“What do you expect if you let hypocritical scum from Charybdisland on board?” cried Scyllius.

“It’s the immoral rabble from Scyllia that cause the trouble!” protested Charyb. “Just look at the statistics on crime in sea-going vessels. They bear me out!”

“That’s enough!” said Everyman sharply. Both men knew that he had no sympathy with their partisan bickering, and the tone of command was enough to silence them. “Either I please you both or I please neither. There’s no way I’m going to visit one port but not the other.”

At that moment, a sudden shaft of sunlight burst through the gathering black clouds, and the wind seemed to drop.

“That’s an interesting meteorological indication, sir” said Scyllius carefully, “Do you think it might mean we could risk it?”

“It’s a sign!” cried Charyb in half-ironic triumph, “God wants you to go to Charybport! He could never allow you to leave his Chief Priest standing on the quay.”

“Maybe it’s a sign, and maybe it isn’t,” said Everyman, “But if we take the risk, we go to both ports. Agreed?”

Reluctantly, both men agreed. Everyman turned the ship towards Scyllatown.

As they neared Scyllatown, however, the weather deteroriated again. The clouds massed, the rain lashed down, and the winds blew up to storm force. Having made up his mind, though, the Captain set his jaw, held course and ordered the sails down.

“Look at those rocks!” cried Charyb, “We’ll be wrecked! Let’s get out of here, Jack!”

“Just hold your course!” urged Scyllius, “We’ll be OK. Many ships have still managed to dock safely in weather like this.”

They were driven closer and closer to the rocks, to the terror of all on board, but Jack Everyman held his nerve. At last the wind began to abate a little, and the quay of Scyllatown loomed before them through the film of rain.

As soon as they docked they sent messengers into the town to find Scyllius’s mother and the Prince. Both were surprised but happy to find that the ship had dared the weather to dock there. Captain Jack Everyman urged the Prince to board without delay, and made sure that all cargoes were loaded and unloaded immediately.

“Are you not going to wait for better weather, Captain?” asked the Prince’s Aide-de-Camp, “Why do we go so soon?”

The Captain shook his head, “We’re leaving immediately,” he said, “and sailing to Charybport”. The Aide-de-Camp looked at him incredulously, as if he had said they were sailing for the City of Dis. The Captain did not tell him why he feared lingering in Scyllatown even more than the storm. Charyb had been right about the throngs of cut-throats.

With the Prince and further precious cargo on board, the ship set off again in weather that was not much better than the conditions they had arrived in. This time the journey lay straight across the strait, for Scyllatown and Charybport, each the capital of a diametrically opposed kingdom, lay right opposite each other. Each could even see the other in clear weather. Many had been the ships sunk and men’s lives wasted in endless warring over that strait. In public all was enmity, with all visitors from the opposite realm requiring special clearance from the authorities. Any stray sailor from the opposing realm who wandered incautiously in Scyllatown would first be spat upon, then quietly dispatched in a dark alley. Yet behind the scenes, the authorities in fact maintained quite a cordial relationship with each other.

It was a battered-looking Progress, with a snapped foremast but otherwise intact, that limped into the harbour of Charybport a few hours later. The Prince of Scyllia had barricaded himself into a stateroom below decks and refused to stir, the misery of seasickness only slightly alleviated by the news that they had landed in Charybdisland. The quay in Charybport was much better maintained than that in Scyllatown, but the sailor who jumped onto the quay was immediately upbraided by the harbourmaster for wearing what he took to be leather shoes. “This is an insult to Charybdis!” he roared, “Take away your unclean footwear this instant!” The terrified sailor soon leapt back on board to comply.

After an inspection by the harbourmaster for both leather footwear and signs of disease, a few sailors were judged pure enough to be able to land temporarily. However, they were only able to proceed into the town to glimpse the wonders of the Great Temple after paying hefty additional bribes to the harbourmaster. Only Mr Charyb, as a native, was able to avoid these strictures. Captain Everyman was again desirous to be off as soon as possible, and instructed the sailors to be back in an hour at the most. He was relieved to see that the Chief Priest’s sumptuous carriage soon rolled up. The extremely obese Chief Priest was then brought on board in a litter borne by four slaves.

He was greeted, somewhat to his surprise, by the Prince of Scyllia, who had unbarricaded his state room as soon as he glimpsed the Chief Priest’s arrival through a porthole. “Hello, old fellow!” He proferred a hand, “Terrible weather, what!”.

“Fancy meeting you here!” the Priest responded, “Don’t think I’ve seen you since the Ball after Finals! Time goes by, what!”

But then the Prince glimpsed the Captain coming towards them along the passage. “Quick, the Captain’s coming,” he said in an undertone, “It might be prudent to be more statesmanlike.”

“That’s an insult to Charybdis!” shouted the Priest suddenly, putting on a convincing, but rather wobbly, shake of anger. “I will hear no more of this blasphemy!” He then turned and heaved himself along the passage towards the Captain.

“Your holiness is quartered in the front state-room, as his highness from Scyllia occupies the rear one.” said the Captain politely, “I hope it will be to your liking.”

The priest waddled on to inspect the front state room, “It will do,” He said eventually. “Just don’t let that sacrilegious scumbag anywhere near me!”

Once more, then, the ship set sail in some haste, as soon as passengers and cargo had been loaded and unloaded, and the foremast rapidly replaced. One sailor who had lingered too long, captivated by wonder in the Great Temple, had to be left behind. As they set out the storm had already abated to a gale, and before long it sank to a pleasant breeze. Within hours the clouds had drifted away, and the sun shone, as the ship beat down the strait to further its journey.

The captain and mates gathered again on the bridge. “That was a hard passage, captain,” remarked Scyllius, and Charyb for once nodded his agreement.

“Ay, ‘twas hard,” remarked the Captain. “It would have been hard enough just to sail down the strait in such weather, let alone pick up passengers. Yet I’m glad I allowed you both to persuade me. What would be the point of a voyage without passengers?”

“As long as the Prince and Chief Priest don’t kill each other.” added Charyb.

“They haven’t yet.” said the Captain, “Who knows, a pleasant voyage in the sunlight may help ease their enmity!”