[O]ne must not talk to a man unless he is willing to listen. That is why it is often doubted whether Diogenes and the other Cynics, who employed an undiscriminating freedom of speech and offered advice to any who came in their way, ought to have pursued such a plan.....This very thing [giving unsolicited advice]...is, I believe, exactly what a great-souled man ought not to do; his influence is weakened; it has too little effect upon those whom it might have set right if it had not grown so stale. The archer ought not to hit the mark only sometimes; be ought to miss it only sometimes. That which takes effect by chance is not an art; wisdom is an art [Sapientia ars est]; it should have a definite aim, choosing only those who will make progress, but withdrawing from those whom it has come to regard as hopeless, -yet not abandoning them too soon, and just when the case is becoming hopeless trying drastic remedies....
As to our friend Marcellinus, I have not yet lost hope. He can still be saved, but the helping hand must be offered soon. There is indeed danger that be may pull his helper down; for there is in him a native character of great vigour, though it is already inclining to wickedness. Nevertheless I shall brave this danger and be bold enough to show him his faults. --Seneca, Letter 29.
A philosopher needs to be willing to restrain her tongue. Not everyman will benefit from her wisdom; and not every moment is apt. So, a ruling philosophical virtue is the exercise of self-command. Now, in context it is clear that Seneca presents philosophy as a kind of cure or therapy/exercise for a particular individual (whose soul is, thereby, saved). The analogy with medicine (and religion) is deliberate. But the improvement (flourishing/mental health, etc.) is also intended to be moral (in the modern sense). In fact, the cure can be dangerous to student and philosophical-healer: Seneca makes clear that one of the medicines involves showing another his depravity [pravum]. Seneca recognizes that not everybody welcomes being shown a mirror in which one's moral flaws are made visible. (He also has sobering things to say about the expected reactions to such mirroring.)*
While few professional philosophers understand their own mission in these ways, more than a few understand that they may be called to speak truth to power, challenge the status quo, or show the theoretical path toward an improved, more just (happier, more egalitarian, etc.) world. We are often invited to engage with the public and I work in a system of higher education where public dissemination (and valorization) of one's research is expected. During the past years, many of us have been reminded that there are many social agents and forces, which try to silence and intimidate professors [fill in your favorite examples here].
It is not controversial that to be silenced is bad. And self-censorship out fear of external intimidation is bad, too. (I leave aside here if one is blameworthy if one self-censors out of fear.) What interests me here is that Seneca also advocates a worthy self-censorship. I think we can discern in his text two reasons for worthy self-censorship: (i) if one judges that one's words will not have desirable effects on one's audience; (ii) if one judges that the impotency of one's words, even if truth-apt, reduce one's credibility in the future. Both (i-ii) are instances of prudence (mixed in, as it happens, with some paternalism in (i).)
I was reminded of the Feministphilosophers response to the Hypatia affaire. After noting that it is difficult to take a stand as a group blog and noting possible source of conflict of interest among some of its members. They write that:
I have to admit that at first I was a bit surprised by the post: anything more than 'no comment' invites further discussion (and a blog can simply skip the topic). As a former NewAPPSer I sympathized with the trickiness of formulating a "blog view" in light of individual diversity. But I also thought that the Hypatia case raised many interesting and pertinent questions about philosophical methodology and sociology not just for feminist philosophers, but for us all. It makes a huge intellectual difference if one understands the affair as a question about the nature of responsible speech (recall), or about refereeing practices in socially engaged philosophy (recall), or about who has the authority to speak on behalf or in place of others (recall). But I recognize that others think the affair is fundamentally about proper journal processes, including (as the winners of the internal power struggle at Hypatia state) "adherence to guidelines issued by COPE guidelines"; or about how well meaning scholarship can cause unintentional harm; or about how to publish in a field of scholarship where one may come to think that (quoting Richard Moran) "much of it is just plain awful" and so one has "every right to ignore work, even whole areas of work."**(Add your own take here.) More important, perhaps, the Hypatia affair raises interesting questions for feminism about its relationship to (the intersections of) trans-gender and trans-racial (etc.) issues.
So, at the time, I was greatly disappointed by this stance because I felt important issues would go unexplored. I think the members of the blog would have added to the discussion, perhaps even elevated it. But in subsequent debates we would have learned more. That is, I would have viewed -- and here I show my un-selfconscious liberalism -- the ensuing conversations and debates as a discovery mechanism.
But, of course, Feministphilosophers is not saying that there is nothing of interest to be discovered here; rather they do not wish to host the conversation about it (online). They appeal directly to a no-harm principle (avoid adding pain). But they also invoke a version of Seneca's (i) when they claim online discussion of this issue is not doing any good for anyone. So Seneca's position is not merely hypothetical today. And, in reflecting on Feministphilosophers' decision, I think it is clear that from their own perspective they were engaged in worthy-self-censorship. (And by showing restraint the conversation about Hypatia did die down.)
One may claim that a blog goes against the spirit of Seneca's position. For in the very same letter he inveighs against catering to the crowd. "It takes trickery to win popular approval; and you must needs make yourself like unto themselves." In fact, he goes further by claiming (somewhat interestingly in light of his own experiences as a successful playwright), and by quoting Epicurus (but he is clear this is true for all schools), that a sage does not really understand what moves the crowd [quae probat populus ego nescio].+ For a blog is read or at least always runs the risk of being read by many not by a particular individual.
But so are Seneca's Letters. They are formally addressed to Lucilius, but we have already seen (recall letter 21) that he explicitly writes for others (including posterity too). And so, obliquely, Seneca raises here the question when he exercises worthy self-censorship in his presentation of his authorial persona, who dispenses self-regulation and medicines of the mind to others. And not for the first time when I read Seneca's Letters, I feel I have entered a dizzying hall of mirrors.
**Some other time I may return to Moran's statement which I found quite extraordinary.
+One of the effects of desiring popular acclaim is quite interesting: "it will make you live without fear of gods or men [ut sine metu deorum hominumque vivas]"
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