Random quote
If … one were to say that a word has an infinite number of meanings, obviously reasoning would be impossible; for not to have one meaning is to have no meaning, and if words have no meaning our reasoning with one another, and indeed with ourselves, has been annihilated; for it is impossible to think of anything if we do not think of one thing…

Aristotle (384-322 BC)

Antigone’s moral problem

The cast receives te applause after the performance
of Stravinsky’s Oedipus Rex and Moussa’s Antigone
in the Music Theatre in Amsterdam. Antigone is the
woman in the middle in light dress.

Recently the Dutch National Opera (DNO) performed two oratorios based on Greek mythology and classical plays: Igor Stravinsky’s Oedipus Rex and Samy Moussa’s Antigone. Oedipus Rex is about fate and deals with the question: Can we escape fate, and can we take control of our own destiny? In modern terms we would say: Does free will exist? It’s an eternal and still much debated problem. However, here I want to raise Antigone’s moral question, treated in Moussa’s oratorio.
For the story, I follow the version on the DNO website:
Eteocles and Polynices have agreed to rule the Greek city of Thebes jointly but they end up fighting one another. Eteocles has seized sole power and Polynices has gathered troops to attack Thebes. The battle ends in a duel in which the two brothers kill one another. Creon, the new King of Thebes, tries to restore order. He arranges a ceremonial burial for Eteocles but forbids the burial of Polynices’ corpse on pain of death. He wants the body of the brother who attacked his own city to rot away on the battlefield – a cruel punishment that deprives Polynices of the possibility of finding rest in the Underworld after his death. Antigone, the sister of Eteocles and Polynices, cannot bear this violation of her sacred duty to her brother Polynices. She secretly arranges a symbolic funeral. Creon’s soldiers see this and report the incident to the king. Creon condemns Antigone to death and confines her in a tomb that is bricked up. Warned by the seer Tiresias, he has Antigone’s tomb opened, but she has already hanged herself.
The tragedy of Antigone deals with a question that has been around for as long as there is authority or at least as long as there are states: Should we follow the rules of the state or of the authority that is superior to us, or should we follow our own private morals and let our own consciousness speak? I’ll call it Antigone’s problem. It is the problem of the conscientious objector of compulsory military service, but it is also the problem of the official who gets the order from his section chief or directly from the minister to implement a certain law, even in case the official thinks that this law is unreasonable and leads to innocent victims, as in the Dutch childcare benefits scandal. But Antigone’s problem is not only a possible moral conflict between state and individual but it can happen everywhere where authority is at stake, for instance when for moral reasons an employee refuses to perform a task set by his employer. Moreover, the consequences of refusing a state law or, for instance, a private order by an employer are not futile but serious, like Antigone’s refusal to follow Creon’s order. In addition, the refusal is not simply a practical affair but it is a moral decision; it is based on a conscientious objection. The right to follow your conscience is at stake.
Many thinkers have racked their brains about Antigone’s problem, but nobody has found a real solution. I even think that a general solution does not exist. Take the example of conscientious objection of compulsory military service. In case of a war or a threatening war against a nation adult men – why usually not also women? – of a certain age are summoned “to do their duty” and to join the army and fight the enemy, if necessary in the front line, where you directly confront the enemy and possibly must kill the enemy. This was so, for instance, during World War I and II; during the Cold War; and now it is so in Ukraine and Russia. At first sight, this may seem obvious, but a substantial number of men try to escape their “duty” for several reasons. These men are often considered “unpatriotic” or “cowards” by others, whatever these words may mean. However, it is not as simple as that. For simplicity, I ignore practical and pure political reasons and focus on moral reasons for the refusal to serve. One moral reason is based on the need to destroy the enemy; concretely, on killing humans. In civil life killing is considered immoral, disgusting or which word you want to use. It is beyond all limits and there must be good grounds for doing so, which always must be justified afterwards. Normally, killing a human leads to a heavy penalty, if not the death penalty in many countries. Then, in war, it suddenly is different. Here I must think of a saying of Sebastian Castellio (1515-1563), criticizing Calvin who justified the burning on the stake of a heretic, which I discussed long ago in a blog: “Killing a man is not defending a doctrine, it is killing a man”. Is it different if we change this quote into “Killing a man is not defending a country, it is killing a man”? And then not only once, but often regularly, as Guy Chapman, a soldier in the First World War, wrote: “If you start a man killing, you cannot turn him off like a machine”. (see here) Is it strange then that men called up for military service have a moral problem, because what is forbidden and rejected in daily life now must be done in war? That what normally goes against human feelings and morality now is allowed, no often ordered, to do? This has nothing to do with lacking patriotic feelings and with cowardice but everything with Antigone’s problem; it is a problem of conscience. This doesn’t mean that there may be no real reasons to defend a country militarily.
Sometimes a practical solution can be found for Antigone’s problem. As for my example, many countries have laws that leaves room for conscientious objectors of military service. However, as said, there are no general solutions for the problem. Just therefore it is important to give it much attention and to be open to the problem and to try to find practical solutions, when necessary.

Random quote
It is not easy to come to the conclusion that what has been written is not true. What has been written has the tangible nature of what can be shown and it is like evidence. It requires a special critical effort to free oneself from the prejudice that is cherished in favour of the written and to distinguish between opinion and truth, as it is with all oral assertions.

Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900-2002)

Descartes in Egmond

Bust of Descartes in the cemetery around the Castle Chapel in
Egmond aan den Hoef.

When I recently visited the village of Egmond, I also wanted to see where Descartes had lived, for during his long stay in the Netherlands Descartes lived also several years in Egmond. Egmond is situated about 35 km north of Amsterdam in the province of Noord-Holland (North Holland). Actually there is not one village called “Egmond”, but there are three villages with that name, situated a few kilometres from each other, although I’ll sometimes write “Egmond”, for short. Egmond aan Zee is a seaside resort on the North Sea coast. Egmond-Binnen is situated more inland, just like Egmond aan den Hoef. For centuries there was an abbey in Egmond-Binnen, but it was destructed in 1573 during the Eighty Years’ War, the Dutch war of independence against Spain. Egmond aan den Hoef was known by its castle, owned by one of the mightiest noble families of the Netherlands. The castle was also destructed in 1573. During the years 1643-1649 Descartes lived for some time both in Egmond-Binnen and in Egmond aan den Hoef. The ruins of the abbey and the castle could still be seen in those days. The chapel of the castle had been restored and was used as a Protestant church.
In the 19th century, one of the intriguing questions about Descartes was: Why did he go to live in Egmond? Maybe in the 19th century the question was obvious, but it was also an ahistorical question. For although in the 19th century the three Egmonds had become dull and rather isolated villages, during the years that Descartes lived there the situation was different. Before the execution of the Count of Egmond by the Spaniards in 1568 and the destruction of the castle by the Dutch rebels in 1573 Egmond was an important political centre. Before the destruction of the abbey in 1573 Egmond was also an important cultural centre. In the mid-17th century Egmond still had this reputation and therefore many wealthy merchants and political leaders had built their country houses in the region. Moreover, Egmond is only about 8 km from the city of Alkmaar. In 1637 Descartes had stayed in Egmond and Alkmaar for a short time, looking for a place to live for his beloved Helen Jans van der Stroom and their daughter Francine (who would die in 1641). This made that Descartes knew the region already a little bit. Also the city of Haarlem was not far from Egmond (about 35 km). During his stay in Egmond, Descartes visited both cities regularly. All this makes clear that in the mid-17th century Egmond was not the isolated place that in the 19th century and for a long time thereafter till not so long ago it was thought to be.Why then went Descartes to live in Egmond? Descartes himself doesn’t tell us, but a recent analysis by Peter J.H. van den Berg makes clear that he had good reasons for his choice.
- Helen Jans lived in Egmond aan den Hoef. Although she had married another man in 1644, Descartes kept always a good relation with her and he was present as a witness when she married.
- Descartes was looking for a quiet place to live. Though the three villages of Egmond were not isolated, they were quiet places where visitors would not drop in frequently. Moreover, Descartes liked gardening and walking. Egmond was a good place for that.
- Descartes was a Roman Catholic. In the Netherlands, officially only the Reformed Church was allowed to hold religious services, but other religious services, including Roman Catholic services, were tolerated so long as this wasn’t done too openly. Especially, in Egmond Roman Catholic services were tolerated more or less openly.
- Descartes had contacts in the highest circles of society. Constantijn Huygens, secretary of the Prince of Orange, was a close friend of him, for instance. Friends and acquaintances lived in Alkmaar and Haarlem, or (like Huygens) regularly visited these towns. So, though living in Egmond, Descartes could well maintain his intellectual, cultural and political relations.
Descartes did not live continuously in Egmond during the years 1643-1649. From May 1643 till June 1644 he lived in Egmond aan den Hoef. From November 1644 till June 1647; from October 1647 till May 1648; and then from September 1648 till September 1649 he lived in Egmond-Binnen. It is not known where exactly in Egmond aan den Hoef Descartes then stayed. Probably he had rented the country estate called “Tijdverdrijf” (“Pastime”), outside the village. It had a garden, and it was big enough to live there with a secretary and some servants and to receive visitors. In 1637 Descartes had lived for a short time in a house opposite the castle chapel. In June 1644 Descartes left Egmond and stayed four months in France. He returned to Egmond in November of the same year. Now he established himself in Egmond-Binnen. Also during his other stays in Egmond he lived there. Probably, he had rented the house called the “Hooge Huys” (High House), later called “Zorgwijck” (Escape from the Worries), in the centre of the village on the corner of what now are the Abdijlaan and De Krijt. It was a mansion with a large garden and an orchard. Descartes liked it to live in Egmond-Binnen and the inhabitants liked him, too, and he was called the Good Frenchman.
It is a pity that nothing remains of the houses Descartes inhabited. They do not exist any longer. Also the three villages of Egmond have changed a lot. However, when I was in Egmond I have taken photos of the places where Descartes’s houses once were. You find them below.

Sources: Besides Van den Berg’s book (see link above), I have also used Hans Dijkhuis, Descartes. Zijn Nederlandse Jaren.

The Castle Chapel in Egmond aan den Hoef. In the foreground parts
of the restored foundations of the castle are visible. Descartes lived
 in the street behind the chapel, about where the green shed (or
whatever it is) is.

About here was the house called “Tijdverdrijf” where Descartes lived

from May 1643 till June 1644. In those days there were dunes here,

 which were excavated later and turned into farmland.

On this corner of the Abdijlaan and De Krijt in Egmond-Binnen once

was the “Hooge Huys” where Descartes lived after his return from

 France in November 1644 till his departure to Sweden in 1649.

Random quote
It is a common failing of mortals to deem the more difficult the fairer; and they often think that they have learned nothing when they see a very clear and simple cause for a fact, while at the same time they are lost in admiration of certain sublime and profound philosophical explanations, even though these for the most part are based upon foundations which no one had adequately surveyed—a mental disorder which prizes the darkness higher than the light.

René Descartes (1596-1650)

Kettle Logic

Now and then in these blogs, I pay attention to fallacies. I think that sound reasoning is important for avoiding mistakes in what we do and for seeing through false argumentation others use when trying to mislead us or by mistake. Especially politicians often use false argumentation, intentionally or unintentionally. But in fact all humans commit fallacies, often because they do not realize what is wrong with what they are saying. For instance, someone tries to defend his case, but instead of making his position stronger with strong arguments he makes conflicting statements, like in this fictitious case described by Sigmund Freud in his Interpretation of Dreams about “a man who was accused by his neighbour of having returned a kettle to him in a damaged condition. In the first place, he said, he had returned the kettle undamaged; in the second, it already had holes in it when he borrowed it; and thirdly, he had never borrowed the kettle from his neighbour at all. But so much the better; if even one of these three methods of defence is recognised as valid, the man must be acquitted.”
In his attempt to defend that he had returned the kettle in the condition he had received it (or even denying that he had borrowed the kettle), the man puts forward three arguments. Each argument as such is correct, but by putting forward three contradictory arguments to support his point the man he undermines his case. Because of Freud’s example the fallacy got the name “Kettle Logic”.
The logical form of Kettle Logic is:
- Argument 1 is put forward
- Argument 2 is put forward, which contradicts argument 1
- Argument 3 is put forward, which contradicts argument 1 and/or 2
- Etc.
Here is another example, a bit more realistic than Freud’s case: You are driving too fast and are stopped by a police officer. Your defence is: 1) I was not exceeding the speed limit; 2) I didn’t see the speed limit sign; 3) there was no speed limit sign. But beware, not all reasoning that is contradictory on the face of it need to be a matter of kettle logic. For instance, it can also be a matter of alternative reasoning, such as when several alternative contradictory arguments are given for the same conclusion, while it is not claimed that all premises are true: A defence attorney might claim that his defendant didn’t cause the murder, because he had alibis, and even if he had been there, he is too short to have stabbed the victim in the head. (from Wible)
I said that politicians often commit the kettle fallacy. Wible quotes several committed by US Vice President Dick Cheney, when defending the administration’s decision to invade Iraq and the subsequent problems there. Here is one: When asked about the damage done to Iraq, Cheney said that it was the Iraqis and not the allied forces who did the damage and that any invasion causes unfortunate horrific things to happen.
This fallacy makes me think of a case described by Seneca in his treatise on anger that I discussed last week (a case that is also described by Montaigne in his Essays). It is about Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso (c. 44/43 BC – AD 20; a Roman statesman, consul, governor. etc.):
“A soldier that had leave to go abroad with his comrade, came back to the camp at his time, but without his companion. Piso condemned him to die, as if he had killed him, and appoints a centurion to see the execution. Just as the headsman was ready to do his office, the other soldier appeared, to the great joy of the whole field, and the centurion bade the executioner hold his hand. Hereupon Piso, in a rage, mounts the tribunal, and sentences all three to death: the one because he was condemned, the other because it was for his sake that his fellow-soldier was condemned, the centurion for not obeying the order of his superior. An ingenious piece of inhumanity, to contrive how to make three criminals, where effectively there were none.” (source)
This case looks a bit like Kettle Logic, but it isn’t. What kind of fallacy is it then? I have no idea, how to call it in English, but in Dutch we call it (translated) the “Barbertje should be hanged” fallacy: Lothario is accused of having murdered Barbertje. He denies and says that he had always taken good care of her. Therefore, the judge accuses him also of conceit, which makes his case only worse. Then Barbertje enters the courtroom, but Lothario is sentenced to death anyway, because he is still guilty of conceit, so the judge. (Note that the fallacy actually should be called the “Lothario should be hanged” fallacy). A decision once taken must be executed, anyhow, just because it has been taken. Anyone who opposes is also guilty. How often doesn’t it happen?

Sources
- Andy Wible, “Kettle Logic”, in Arp, Robert; Steven Barbone; Michael Bruce (eds.), Bad arguments. 100 of the most important fallacies in Western philosophy. Oxford, etc.: Wiley Blackwell, 2019; pp. 174-176.
- And also Wikipedia (on Kettle Logic); Wikipedia (on Barbertje); “Kettle Logic”.

Random quote
What we commonly call friends and friendships, are nothing but acquaintance and familiarities, either occasionally contracted, or upon some design, by means of which there happens some little intercourse betwixt our souls. But in the friendship I speak of, they mix and work themselves into one piece, with so universal a mixture, that there is no more sign of the seam by which they were first conjoined. If a man should importune me to give a reason why I loved him, I find it could no otherwise be expressed, than by making answer: because it was he, because it was I.

Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592)

Seneca on anger

Statue of Seneca in Córdoba, Spain

“Their eyes blaze and sparkle, their whole face is a deep red with the blood which boils up from the bottom of their heart, their lips quiver, their teeth are set, their hair bristles and stands on end, their breath is laboured and hissing, their joints crack as they twist them about, they groan, bellow, and burst into scarcely intelligible talk, they often clap their hands together and stamp on the ground with their feet, and their whole body is highly-strung and plays those tricks which mark a distraught mind, so as to furnish an ugly and shocking picture of self-perversion and excitement.”
This is how Lucius Annaeus Seneca describes anger people in the first section of his treatise “On Anger”, which actually is a letter to his brother Novatus. For Seneca, anger is a passion that he rejects: “You cannot tell whether this vice is more execrable or more disgusting.” His treatise is about the nasty effects of this passion and about how to suppress it if not to prevent it. However, I think that there is a weak point in Seneca’s treatment of anger: He sees it only as a sudden outburst, not as a passion that can determine your behaviour during a longer time or at least be for a longer time in the background in your mind. Maybe this has to do with the fact that neither the Latin language, nor the ancient Greek language had a special word for long-term or long-lasting anger; for what we nowadays call resentment. For Seneca anger (ira in Latin) is apparently a short-term, sudden passion. Nevertheless, the Romans and certainly the Greek must have known what we call resentment today. Didn’t Homer start his Iliad with the sentence: “Goddess, sing the anger [μῆνις; mènis] of Achilles, the son of Peleus”? But “μῆνις”, which I have translated here with “anger”, can also mean resentment, and that’s what it apparently means here, for the Iliad doesn’t just describe Achilles’s sudden outburst of anger on the Greek army leader Agamemnon but his long-term resentment against him and the effects of this resentment. Seneca must have known that and he should have realized that anger (ira) can also be a long-term passion with a different expression and different consequences.
In his approach of anger, Seneca differs from Aristotle. Aristotle rejects the destructive outburst of anger with all its nasty effects, but he sees a place for moderate anger. A tempered anger can be a force for change and growth, and it can show others where you stand and that they must reckon with you. According to Aristotle “Anybody can become angry; that is easy. But to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy.” (Nicomachean Ethics bk. 2, 1108b) Here, I have italicized what anger can make a “good”, creative anger, leading it in the right direction with positive results. I’ll not explain here how (see Psychology Today), but the essence of Aristotle’s view is that once you temper your anger, when you are furious, it can become a driving force within you. Then it can become a motivating force to help you to fix a problem, or to right a wrong, or to make that things become better. Anger shows others where you stand, and it helps to prevent that others walk over you. When you restrain yourself too much, it can give others the impression that they can do with you what they like. Of course, this doesn’t involve that you need to use strong words for expressing your anger. Most important is that your view is clear.
Aristotle shows that anger is more than a sudden fit of rage and implicitly that anger is not only a one-time passion but that it can also be long-term. Just as a long-term passion it can be a positive force. Here Gandhi comes to my mind. Once, during his stay in South Africa, Gandhi travelled first class by train. He didn’t know that this was not allowed for “non-whites”, even if they had bought a first-class ticket. Because Gandhi refused to travel third class with his first-class ticket, he was thrown off the train by the conductor. This made Gandhi so furious that the incident became the start of his lifelong struggle against injustice and oppression. What this case shows is that it is too simple to reject anger, as Seneca does. I don’t know how Gandi felt inside, when he was kicked off the train. Maybe – following Seneca’s description of anger – his blood boiled up from the bottom of his heart. I think that he’ll have behaved himself towards the conductor. However, Gandhi kept his anger in his heart, but at the same time he turned it into a creative force, a furious but positive force that led him for life, in a controlled way. Isn’t that another, not “execrable” and not “disgusting” side of Seneca’s fury?