Academic skeptics as a young man sometime in the 80's. In 89/8, Philo
of Larissa, the head of Plato's Academy, fled from Athens to Rome for
political reasons. While at Rome, Cicero attended Philo's public
lectures and began to study philosophy with him. Cicero also studied
with the most prominent representatives of other Hellenistic
philosophical schools: Posidonius (a Stoic), Zeno of Citium and
Phaedrus (Epicureans), and Cratippus (a Peripatetic). Although the
Academy probably ceased to exist as an institution after Philo's death
in 84, Cicero continued to champion its methodology in his
philosophical dialogues.
The Academic position appealed to Cicero for a variety of reasons
(Section 1). The Academics argued on both sides of every issue in
order to undermine the dogmatic confidence of their interlocutors.
Cicero's teacher Philo also applied this method in order to determine
which position enjoyed the most rational support. Given his rhetorical
and forensic skills, Cicero likely found this method attractive. It
was also ideal for his project of inducing the ruling class Romans to
take up the practice of philosophy. Rather than present his personal
views, Cicero laid out in dialogue form the strongest arguments he
could mine from other philosophical texts. The idea was to encourage
the reader to come to his own conclusion, but even more importantly,
to adopt the Academic method of inquiry. Perhaps the most attractive
feature of Academic philosophy for Cicero was the intellectual freedom
guaranteed by the method. The Academic is bound to no particular
doctrine as an Academic. He is only bound to accept the verdict of his
best rational assessment of the arguments pro and con.
Cicero asserts that the reasons for his Academic allegiance are set
out fully in his Academica (De Natura Deorum 1.11). Although these
Academic books are fragmentary, they nonetheless provide a detailed
account of the dispute between the Academics and Stoics on the
possibility of knowledge (Sections 2 and 3) along with Philo's
explanation for how we can manage quite well without knowledge
(Section 4).
1. The Skeptical Academy and its Appeal to Cicero
There were some important variations among the Academics during the
Academy's skeptical period (c. 268/7 B.C.E to 1st century B.C.E.), but
there is also a unifying feature. They all focused squarely, if not
exclusively, on refutation. Inspired by Socrates (as he appears in
some of Plato's dialogues), they sought to combat the overly confident
attitude of the dogmatists. Since the Stoics were the most influential
dogmatists of the time, the skeptical Academics devoted much of their
energy to combating them in particular. (Dogmatism in the Hellenistic
period is simply a matter of positively affirming that one knows the
truth of some systematically related philosophical propositions—it
need not have the pejorative connotation currently associated with
it.)
In order to refute their opponents, the Academics argued
dialectically. Rather than assert a position themselves, they would
reveal to the interlocutor that his beliefs are mutually inconsistent
and thus that he is not able to justify his claim to knowledge. For
example, suppose I claim to know that justice is whatever the strong
say it is. Then, in response to a skeptic's questioning, I am led on
the basis of my own premises to conclude that justice is not whatever
the strong say it is. It follows that I did not really know what I
claimed to know. The operative assumption is that if I had known what
justice is, I would have been able to show why my belief is true. If I
contradict myself or run out of plausible reasons, then I do not know
what justice is after all—even if my belief turns out to be true, I do
not know why it is true.
Later Academics also began arguing on both sides of every issue, pro
and con. Some apparently sought to show that nothing whatsoever could
be known about the issue in question. To accomplish this end, they
showed others that there are equally strong arguments for and against,
and thus no compelling reason to accept any position. Others employed
the same method in order to discover which side of an issue could be
most plausibly defended. But all of the Academics agreed that the
Stoics had failed to adequately defend their epistemology; that is,
they had not shown that knowledge is possible (much more on this below
in sections 2 and 3).
Cicero found the later Academic position appealing for a variety of
reasons. The method of arguing pro and con was a natural fit with his
tremendous oratorical and forensic skill. As a lawyer and orator he
was pleased by the Academy's insistence on teaching rhetoric along
with philosophy on the grounds that the two disciplines were mutually
supportive. He also found the position ideally suited to his
philosophical project of inspiring the Roman ruling class to take up
the practice of philosophy. In his dialogues he employs the Academic
method with the intention of encouraging his readers to think for
themselves rather than to rely on authority.
He was perhaps most attracted by the Academics' intellectual freedom.
In his earliest statement of Academic allegiance, Cicero remarks that
he will gladly change his opinion if someone points out his error. For
it is not shameful to have insufficiently understood something. It is
shameful, however, to have persevered foolishly and for a long time
with insufficient understanding. The reason for this is that
insufficient understanding is due to the common weakness of mankind.
It is, to some extent inevitable, or at least excusable. Foolish
perseverance, however, can be avoided, and hence is shameful and
blameworthy. (De Inventione 2.9) Cicero describes such perseverance as
the stubborn adherence to one's position because he has come to feel
some affection for it. The Academic, by contrast, is supposed to have
no extra-rational motives in defending his view or in persevering,
when or if he does.
Part of the rationale for this way of proceeding is that we cannot
fully appreciate the relative strengths and weaknesses of the
available philosophical positions unless we have thoroughly explored
what can be said for and against them. To align oneself to a
philosophical position prior to this is premature. As we start out we
lack the knowledge or wisdom we seek, and thus we are not in a
position to adequately judge which system or which philosopher to
follow. Once one undertakes the Academic project, he or she may find,
as Cicero did, that one lifetime is not sufficient for completing the
project and taking a final stand.
This freedom to change one's position in accordance with a new
assessment of the arguments may appear to dispense with any concern
for consistency. Suppose for example that I no longer believe that the
arguments in favor of going to war with Carthage are compelling. While
I previously believed Rome was justified in going to war, I now
believe the opposite. As an Academic I am free to change my position
as often as I like. I am not bound by any doctrinal constraints due to
my philosophical allegiance. And I am not bound by what I formerly
believed. Remaining consistent with my former beliefs is never as
important as accepting the verdict of my current assessment of the
arguments.
Academic freedom is not an end in itself however; it is a means to
arriving at the most rationally defensible position. This is why
Cicero characterizes the Academic's method as aimed at drawing out and
articulating that view which can be maintained most consistently
(Academica 2.9) and as aimed at revealing what is true or at least the
closest approximation to the truth (Academica 2.7, 2.65-66, De
Officiis 2.8, Tusculan Disputations 1.8). The consistency sought is an
accord with the rational evidence and not with one's previous beliefs.
Cicero frequently singles out this freedom as the most definitive and
attractive feature of the Academics' philosophical practice (for
example, De Legibus 1.36, Academica 2.134, Tusculan Disputations 4.83,
5.33, 5.82, De Officiis 2.7, 3.20). They alone are free to accept
whatever strikes them as most plausible at that moment (see Section 4
below for more on Academic probabilism).
2. Arguments For and Against Stoic Epistemology in the Academica
During his final encyclopedic burst of dialogues (46-44 B.C.), Cicero
wrote his epistemological work, the Academica. The original version
contained two books named after the principal interlocutor in each,
Catulus and Lucullus. The latter of the two is extant, and generally
referred to as Ac. 2 or Lucullus (= Luc.). Cicero revised these
original two books, dividing them into four, and replaced Lucullus
with Varro as principal interlocutor throughout. Only about the first
fourth of the revised version is extant. It is generally referred to
as Ac. 1.
In these books Cicero presents arguments for and against the Stoic
theory of knowledge as well as the Academics' own positive,
fallibilistic alternative. It should be noted that ethics and
epistemology are inextricably connected in the Academic books. Cicero
remarks on several occasions that what they are investigating is the
sage—that is, an ideal of the perfectly wise human being. Ultimately,
the question about the possibility of knowledge on the Stoic account,
and in Hellenistic philosophy in general, is a question about the
possibility of wisdom. The Hellenistic philosophers followed Plato's
Socrates in taking their primary task to be the discovery of the best
human life.
In order to meet this challenge, Zeno of Citium, the founder of
Stoicism, developed an account of how the knowledge that Socrates
sought—that is, the knowledge that guides one in living the best
possible human life—could in fact be attained. That it could be
attained he established on the grounds that the universe is
providentially arranged. From the providential arrangement it follows
that human beings must be equipped to satisfy their desire for
knowledge, for Nature would not have acted so capriciously as to give
us such an important desire without also providing the means to
fulfill it.
If one developed his natural abilities in accordance with Nature he
would eventually learn to infallibly distinguish what is true from
what is false, at least with regard to matters pertaining to
happiness. The sage is not omniscient, but he is infallible. His
knowledge guarantees that he will always live in accordance with
nature, which is identical to being virtuous and happy.
All of the sage's beliefs are true, and grasped in such a way that no
experience and no argument is able to dislodge him from his
conviction. This irrefutability depends crucially on the fact that all
of the sage's beliefs are true and firmly grasped as such. If he were
to hold even one false belief he might be persuaded to rely on it in
abandoning true beliefs. So we can see that the sage's knowledge is
systematic in that each of his true beliefs is supported by the
others.
The foundation of this account of knowledge is a type of impression
about which we cannot be mistaken. This type of impression provides us
with a criterion of truth, that is, a measuring stick one can use to
determine what is and what is not the case. If the Academics could
succeed in showing that there are no such impressions, they would
effectively undermine the possibility of attaining the knowledge built
upon them.
Thus, the central issue in Ac. 2 is whether or not an impression can
be apprehended or grasped in such a way as to guarantee its truth.
Zeno described such an impression as cognitive, or mentally graspable
(katalêpton), and defined it as one that
(1) comes from what is the case, that is, some existent state of affairs
(2) accurately conveys all the relevant features of what it comes from, and
(3) cannot be exactly like an impression that comes from what is
not the case (Ac. 2.77, cp. Sextus' account at Adversus Mathematikos
[= M] 7.248).
Katalêpsis occurs when one assents to a cognitive impression, thereby
firmly grasping its truth. So whenever one assents to a cognitive
impression one necessarily forms a true belief.
The pressing question is whether one can learn to distinguish
cognitive from non-cognitive impressions. It seems that one can never
know whether (1) and (2) have been satisfied except by inspecting the
perceptual content of the impression. If so, this opens the way for
the Academics' main objection. (It should be noted that the Stoics did
not think all cognitive impressions are perceptual. We may have
cognitive impressions of evaluative states of affairs—for example that
it is good for us to help our friend. However most of the evidence
regarding the possibility of such impressions is limited to perceptual
cases, and so the following discussion will be similarly limited.)
The Academics demanded that the Stoics produce an instance of this
cognitive grasping that is immune to skeptical counterexamples, that
is, immune to scenarios in which a true impression provides the same
sensory evidence as its false imitator. Apparently there is a
plentiful supply of such counterexamples, and the Academics spent a
great deal of effort developing them. (Ac. 2.42) One type illustrates
cases of misidentification: for example, identical twins, eggs,
statues, or imprints in wax made by the same ring. (Ac. 2.84-87)
Another type involves cases of illusion, dreams and madness. (Ac.
2.88-91)
So it seems that any example of an allegedly cognitive impression
offered by the Stoics can be countered by the Academics' doppelganger
or a scenario in which some mental defect and not the object is
responsible for the perceptual content of the impression. In either
case, the Academics challenge the third characteristic above of
cognitive impressions. This challenge is evident in Cicero's report.
(Ac. 2.83, cf. 2.40) The Academics agree with the Stoics that some
impressions are true and some are false, and that false impressions
are never cognitive. They also agree that if there were no differences
between two impressions then these impressions must either both be
cognitive or both fail to be cognitive, that is, either the perceptual
content of both guarantee their truth or fails to guarantee their
truth. In other words, if there were no differences between the two
impressions it cannot be the case that one is cognitive and the other
is not. The crucial premise, and the crux of the debate, is the
Academics' claim, contrary to (3) above, that
(4) for every true impression there may exist a false one that is
identical (that is, qualitatively, not numerically).
If we grant (4), then there can be no impression whose perceptual
content guarantees its truth; that is, there can be no cognitive
impressions. Imagine that you have received an exceedingly clear and
distinct impression of an orange. No matter how much you seek to
corroborate the truth of this impression, or acquire an even clearer
and more distinct impression, it may still turn out to be false. Based
on the way it appears, you can never know whether it is a true
impression or a false one that is qualitatively identical to the true
one. The possibility of error inevitably enters if we must recognize
an impression as cognitive for it to play its intended epistemic role.
In response to (4), the Stoics insisted that no two impressions can be
identical (Ac. 2.50). So even though two impressions may seem
identical, there will still be distinguishable features. In these
sorts of cases we must sharpen our skills and refrain from assenting
in the meantime (Ac. 2.56-57). But Cicero replies that it makes no
difference whether the impressions are strictly identical or only
indistinguishable to us (Ac. 2.85). The issue, as he understands it,
is whether we are ever actually in a position to accurately identify
an impression as cognitive on the basis of its perceptual content.
This interpretation may be unfair to the Stoics however. At one point
Lucullus, the spokesman for the Stoics in the Academica, compares
assenting to cognitive impressions to the sinking of a scale's balance
when weight is put on it. The mind necessarily yields and cannot
refrain from giving its approval to what is perspicuous. (Ac. 2.38)
Sextus also attributes this view to later Stoics: when the cognitive
impression lacks any obstacles it lays hold of us by the hair and
practically drags us to assent. (M 7.257) In the end, assent must
still be voluntary. But what these passages suggest is some sort of
natural fit between cognitive impressions and our rational faculty
such that cognitive impressions are, at least potentially, compelling
in a way that false impressions cannot be. According to this view,
cognitive impressions affect the properly trained mind in a way that
is quite different from the way false impressions affect the same
mind. If there is this natural fit between cognitive impressions and
our rational faculty, then perhaps it is possible after all to acquire
the necessary level of discernment to guarantee that one will only
assent to cognitive impressions.
Even so, Cicero was apparently satisfied that the Stoics had not
succeeded in showing that cognitive impressions provide us with a
criterion of truth in practice. He was more convinced by the seemingly
limitless supply of false impressions that we cannot currently
distinguish from true ones than by the remote possibility of
developing our powers of discernment to overcome such possible
deceptions.
3. Indirect Arguments in Support of Stoic Epistemology in the Academica
Lucullus also presents some indirect arguments. He assumes the truth
of Cicero's Academic position (akatalêpsia, that is, the denial of the
possibility of katalêpsis) and derives unacceptable consequences.
There are two types of such argument: first that akatalêpsia is
self-refuting or inconsistent (Ac. 2.33, 44, 58, cf. also 111), and
second that akatalêpsia removes the possibility of certain sorts of
successful action, especially virtuous action (Ac. 2.19-27, 32-39).
These are versions of the two most often repeated arguments against
virtually every ancient skeptic. In this context, however, they are
specifically tailored as responses to the rejection of the Stoic
criterion.
First, consider the charge that akatalêpsia is self-refuting. Lucullus
remarks that the Academics' crucial premise (4) tells us that there
are (or at least may be) no differences between any given true
impression and a false one. And yet the Academics also claim that some
impressions are true and some are false, and this implies that there
is some difference between them. (Ac. 2.44) Thus in rejecting
katalêpsis, the Academics inconsistently argue that there is and there
is not a difference between any given true impression and a false one.
There is an easy rejoinder available. Cicero need only claim that
there are no perceptual differences between any given true impression
and a false one. This is consistent with saying that there are causal
differences, specifically that true impressions come from what is the
case and false ones do not. Cicero does not deny that truth exists,
but rather that we can grasp it with certainty. (Ac. 2.111) So the
problem lies not with the world, but rather with our inability to
develop our powers of discernment to the level required by the Stoic
theory. No matter how much practice we may have at distinguishing
eggs, there may always be a pair of eggs whose similarities exceed our
ability.
But Lucullus' objection is not merely that akatalêpsia entails the
impossibility of correctly identifying which of my impressions are
true. His objection also includes the claim that akatalêpsia entails
the eradication of any adequate conception of truth. (Ac. 2.33) If we
have no adequate conception of truth, however, we cannot consistently
assert that some impressions are true and some are false. In other
words, we should not accept that there is a real distinction between
truth and falsity, right and wrong, or any other pair, unless we are
confident that our corresponding conceptions of each accurately reveal
this distinction. Granting this point, the difficulty for the Stoics
lies in explaining why akatalêpsia entails the eradication of any
adequate conception of truth in the first place.
Unfortunately, Lucullus does not elaborate on this point. But the
explanation must have something to do with the Stoic view of
oikeiôsis, the providential process by which Nature guides the moral
and intellectual development of all human beings. In sketching the
Stoic view of oikeiôsis, we will also arrive at the second sort of
objection mentioned above, namely that akatalêpsia removes the
possibility of certain sorts of successful action, especially virtuous
action.
The Stoics believe that Nature implants in each of us a love of
ourselves that is expressed in our primary and earliest drive towards
self-preservation. We are naturally disposed to choose what is in
accordance with our nature and reject what is opposed or harmful to
it. As a result of this innate tendency, we all inevitably develop
accurate conceptions (prolêpseis) of what is helpful and what is
harmful with respect to self-preservation. This explains, among other
things, the instinctive drive of newborns to nurse: the breast is
perceived as beneficial.
These naturally developed conceptions must be veridical in keeping
with the providence of nature. If they were misleading it would
threaten our existence as a species, and it would be impossible to
develop such faulty conceptions further into the organized bodies of
knowledge exhibited in skillful activity. Nature does not guarantee
that we will develop our naturally acquired conceptions into
systematic bodies of knowledge and ultimately into virtuous
dispositions; neither does Nature guarantee that all acorns will grow
into magnificent oaks. But the raw material is provided in both cases.
Assenting to cognitive impressions is essential to the process by
which we develop our naturally developed conceptions (prolêpseis) into
the more precise conceptions (ennoiai) that regulate our rational
judgments. For example, in De Finibus 3, Cicero's Stoic spokesman Cato
describes the process by which our natural disposition towards
self-preservation is transformed into a true conception of the good.
Our drive for self-preservation leads us to accurate conceptions of
what is valuable or beneficial. Then, if we reason correctly about the
nature of this value, we gradually discern what is genuinely valuable,
the good itself. (De Finibus 3.16 ff.) But again it would not be
possible to arrive at a true conception of the good if the raw
material were somehow misleading.
Lucullus remarks that the mind "seizes some impressions [presumably
cognitive ones] in order to make immediate use of them, others, which
are the source of memory, it stores away so to speak, while all the
rest it arranges by their likenesses, and thereby conceptions of
things are produced…" (Ac. 2.30, tr. Long and Sedley [= LS] 40N) So we
arrive at our conceptions in general by performing mental operations
on sensory experience. (cf. Diogenes Laertius 7.53) If we cannot rely
on the accuracy of sensory experience, that is if we deny the
possibility of katalêpsis, then it will be impossible to form an
accurate conception of truth, or anything else. This in turn
undermines our ability to distinguish the true from the false in
general.
Cognitive impressions are thus part of a natural fit between the world
and our rational faculties—they indicate a basic or immediate way in
which the world is intelligible to us. By denying the existence of
cognitive impressions, Lucullus claims the Academics obliterate this
crucial link and render the world ultimately unintelligible. They
"tear out the very tools or equipment of life, or rather they actually
ruin the foundations of the whole of life and rob the living being
itself of the mind which gives it life…" (Ac. 2.31, tr. LS 40N) And he
asks, if the conceptions that we form on the basis of our experience
"were false or imprinted by the kind of impressions which were
indiscernible from false ones, how on earth could we make use of
them?" (Ac. 2.22, tr. LS 40M, cf. Ac. 2.19-20) Lucullus must mean "how
could we successfully make use of them?"—otherwise, we could simply
say "poorly and unreliably." His question presupposes the apparent
success we have had in organizing sensory experience into the
systematic bodies of knowledge that are employed in skillful
activities. To account for this success he thinks we must acknowledge
that some impressions are cognitive.
The denial of katalêpsis also eliminates the possibility of virtue or
wisdom. If we cannot form an accurate conception of the good, then we
can never be sure that any of our particular actions are in fact good.
Personifying wisdom, Lucullus remarks that she cannot possibly be
wisdom if she is doubtful and in ignorance regarding the ultimate good
which provides the measure against which we evaluate everything. (Ac.
2.24) For example, suppose I assent to the proposition that it is good
for me to teach my students about skepticism. The Stoics believe that
if my conception of the good is incorrect, or even if I do not know
whether it is correct, the resulting action is not virtuous. It may be
the right thing to do, but virtue requires that I know it is right,
and that my conviction is unshakeable by any argument. Katalêpsis
provides the basis for such certainty. The denial of katalêpsis thus
removes the possibility of virtue.
The most obvious weakness of these objections is the extent to which
they presuppose controversial elements of the Stoic system. Unless the
skeptical opponent accepts these elements, the objections have no
force. But Cicero does respond to these objections, perhaps because he
accepts much of the Stoic system, though in the provisional way
characteristic of an Academic. In his defense of the Academic position
he shows how successful and skillful action and even virtue are
possible without katalêpsis.
4. The Positive Fallibilism of the Philonian Academy
The development of a positive alternative to Stoic katalêpsis is
generally thought to be the result of a misinterpretation of the
earlier Academics' more radical skepticism, especially Carneades'
skepticism. The radical variety makes no provisions for acquiring
beliefs; having successfully refuted every available (if not possible)
position, the skeptic's only option is to suspend judgment and believe
nothing. The moderate variety, by contrast, aims at acquiring the most
rationally defensible position with the full awareness of one's
fallibility.
Cicero insists that Academics do not deny the existence of true
impressions; they deny only the possibility of an infallible grasp of
them. He offers no explicit defense for the claim that true
impressions exist, but he does recognize the existence of technical
expertise; the general accuracy of our impressions would then provide
the best explanation for this fact. Thus far he is in agreement with
Lucullus: there could be no technical expertise if there were
absolutely no distinction between true and false impressions.
Technical expertise seems to presuppose that most of the impressions
we rely on are in fact true.
Such reliability, however, is completely independent of our ability to
infallibly differentiate true from false. As long as we make a
responsible and cautious use of our impressions, always allowing for
the possibility of error, the occasional deception is no serious cause
for alarm.
In response to the Stoic objections that akatalêpsia would lead to
inaction, the Academics did suggest that we may get along very well by
relying on what appears to be subjectively plausible: Arcesilaus
refers to this as what is reasonable (to eulogon), and Carneades as
what is plausible (to pithanon). Cicero translates these Greek terms
with one of his most important philosophical coinages, probabilitas.
Regardless of what his predecessors intended by their skeptical
alternatives, Cicero clearly intends that probabilitas is somehow like
the truth. He frequently uses probabile and veri simile
interchangeably (Ac. 2.7-9, 32, 99, Tusculan Disputations 1.17, 2.5).
Furthermore, he acknowledges that probabilitas is useful both "in the
conduct of life and in philosophical investigation and discussion"
(Ac. 2.32). So it seems that Cicero is not concerned exclusively with
explaining relatively mundane successes like our ability to navigate,
or even the more noteworthy successes of science, but also the
possibility of making progress philosophically. Indeed, he maintains,
both in the Academic books and elsewhere, that virtue is possible
without Stoic katalêpsis. This is evident in the character of the
"Academic sage."
The Academic sage "is not afraid lest he may appear to throw
everything into confusion and make everything uncertain. For if a
question be put to him about duty or about a number of other matters
in which practice has made him an expert, he would not reply in the
same way as he would if questioned as to whether the number of stars
is even or odd, and say that he did not know; for in things uncertain
there is nothing probable, but in things where there is probability
the wise man will not be at a loss either what to do or what to
answer" (Ac. 2.110, tr. by H. Rackham). Guided solely by probabilitas,
the sage will plan out his entire life (Ac. 2.99).
Cicero is much less forthcoming with regard to the details of how the
sage employs probabilitas in adjudicating competing philosophical
claims. But that the sage does employ probabilitas in this way is
evident from the fact that he accepts the denial of the possibility of
katalêpsis as probable. (Ac. 2.110) Such a decision indicates that the
sage has weighed both sides of the debate and arrived at his probable
judgment as a result.
It is likely that Cicero is following Philo's adaptation of Carneades'
account of how we should test our sensory impressions when in doubt.
(This is most extensively reported by Sextus Empiricus, M 7.166-189,
see also Ac. 2.78). In matters of relatively little importance, or
when we don't have time for a more thorough examination we rely on
whatever seems immediately plausible. Even though unexamined, such
impressions may strike us with varying degrees of force or vividness.
But since every individual impression is accompanied by a host of
other related impressions, we should examine these as well, time
permitting. When none of these concurrent impressions seem false, or
inconsistent with the impression in question, our belief is greater.
In matters of the greatest importance, especially those pertaining to
our happiness, we should go a step further and examine each of the
concurrent impressions individually, cross-questioning each of them on
the testimony of the others. (M 7.184)
Impressions that survive this scrutiny are most credible. But the
degrees of credibility have no upper limit since cross-questioning may
proceed indefinitely. What the higher levels of scrutiny have in
common is that they are aimed primarily at disconfirmation (M 7.189).
In the end, what reveals itself as most credible is what has survived
the most extensive attempts at "refutation."
Given that Cicero sees himself as engaged in the same philosophical
practice as Carneades, it is likely that disconfirmation plays the
same central role in the philosophical application of probabilitas as
in the empirical application of Carneades' criterion. So to employ
this fallible criterion in philosophical investigation would require a
serious and sustained effort to refute the view in question. If it
survives such critical scrutiny, it will appear to be like the truth.
Since we are dealing with degrees of justification, approximation to
the truth most likely refers to the extent to which the view in
question has been rationally defended. The further assumption
underlying this is that the truth cannot be refuted. Surviving serious
attempts at refutation would then provide inductive evidence of the
truth of that view, and the more it survives the more it will appear
to be like the truth.
Unlike the empirical cases, philosophical issues typically do not
force a judgment. We may reflect indefinitely on whether justice is
whatever the strong say it is whereas life-and-death, fight-or-flight,
judgments cannot wait. This open-endedness is reflected in Cicero's
own consideration of the dispute between the Stoics and Peripatetics
on the sufficiency of virtue for a happy [eudaimôn] life. Sometimes he
was swayed by the Stoics' position that virtue can guarantee a happy
life with or without external goods like health and wealth. And
sometimes he was swayed by the Peripatetic view that virtue requires
at least some of those external goods to secure a happy life. The fact
that Cicero continued to the end of his life to struggle with this
issue does not mean that he failed as an Academic. Arriving once and
for all at the philosophical view that can be most consistently
maintained is not required; continuing to search for it is.
5. References and Further Reading
a. Latin Texts and Translations
* Brittain, C., tr. 2006. Cicero: On Academic Scepticism,
Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing.
* Long and Sedley, tr. 1987. The Hellenistic Philosophers, Volumes
1 and 2, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
o Long and Sedley provide translations of and commentary on
a good portion of the Academica. Their volumes are indispensable to
the study of Hellenistic philosophy in general, and the commentary on
the selections from the Academica are extremely helpful.
* Rackham, H., tr. 1933/1994. Cicero: De Natura Deorum, Academica,
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
o This volume in the Loeb Classical Library contains the
Latin text with English translation on facing pages. It is currently
the only English translation available of the Academic books in their
entirety (as we have them).
* Reid, J. S. 1885. M. Tulli Ciceronis, Academica, London: MacMillan.
o For textual analysis and philosophical commentary, Reid's
edition is still valuable.
b. Select Bibliography of Secondary Literature
* Brittain, C. 2001. Philo of Larissa: the Last of the Academic
Sceptics, Oxford: Oxford University Press.
o Though Brittain does not deal specifically with Cicero as
a philosopher, he makes extensive use of the Academic books in
reconstructing the positions held by Philo as well as the history of
the Academy in general. This is a very carefully researched and
comprehensive book. In addition to presenting a stimulating
reconstruction of Philo's views, there is a very useful appendix
containing all the testimonia on Philo along with translations.
* Glucker, J. 1978. Antiochus and the Late Academy, Hypomnemata
56, Göttingen.
* Glucker, J. 1988. "Cicero's Philosophical Affiliations," in
Dillon, J.M. and A.A. Long, eds., The Question of "Eclecticism":
Studies in Later Greek Philosophy, Berkeley.
* Glucker, J. 1995. "Probabile, Veri Simile, and Related Terms,"
in Powell, ed.
* Görler, W. 1995. "Silencing the troublemaker: De Legibus 1.39
and the Continuity of Cicero's Scepticism," in Powell, ed.
o This is a response to an earlier article by Glucker which
argues that Cicero changed his affiliation twice, once from a youthful
adherence to the skeptical Academy to the more dogmatic position of
Antiochus, and then later in life back again.
* Mansfeld, J. and B. Inwood, eds. 1997. Assent and Argument:
Studies in Cicero's Academic Books, Leiden: Brill.
o This and the following volume are highly recommended as a
starting point for further study in Cicero's skepticism and the late
Academy in general.
* Powell, J.G.F., ed. 1995. Cicero the Philosopher, Oxford.
* Tarrant, H. 1985. Scepticism or Platonism, Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
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