Need to know
The Cynics of ancient Greece were an extraordinarily odd and unpleasant group of individuals. They were hostile to outsiders, and between themselves were hardly pleasant. Antisthenes, who might be regarded as the first Cynic, raised his stick at Diogenes for wishing to study with him. Diogenes placed his head under the stick, so the story goes, and asked his elder to strike as hard as he could.
By the time of Crates of Thebes, who was Diogenes’ student, things had softened a bit. His brother-in-law Metrocles apparently disgraced himself by farting during a lecture on philosophy. Poor Metrocles locked himself up in his house and decided to starve himself to death for the shame of it. Fortunately, Crates arrived, ate an enormous quantity of lupin beans (which were known for their flatulent effects), and then farted and discoursed in his company to make the point that philosophy and natural inclinations should not be opposed. This is a lesson that Crates’ teacher, Diogenes, had already taught, albeit more harshly and crudely.
The Cynics were known for their acts of public indecency. In today’s world, they would be swiftly arrested and imprisoned, perhaps even sectioned, for what they did. This raises the question, what is there to learn from such people? It might be assumed that, if the Cynics still have anything to teach us, we must first set aside, or explain away, some of their more repellent behaviours. As I argue below, this would be a mistake.
Cynicism in ancient Greece was nothing like what we today call cynicism (which can be spelt with a lowercase ‘c’). Ancient Cynicism was extremely rare; it was genuinely hard to be, or become, a Cynic.
The ancient Cynic outlook was negative, but the Cynic did not become trapped by their negativity, or use a negative outlook on life as an excuse for doing nothing, for giving up on life, or for giving in. Cynic negativity was not associated with the idea that if everything is bad, nothing can be done, so let’s do nothing. Rather, Cynic negativity spurred the Cynic into action. Negativity was employed in a quest to become free of unnatural restraint, and to conjure a less servile state of mind. Negativity released the Cynic from social obligations, and social ties, and allowed the Cynic to think differently about the world around them.
One of the most important features of ancient Cynicism is that it did not offer advice or set out a programme for what you needed to do to become a Cynic. And although ancient Cynics were extremely critical of their surroundings, they did not produce a detailed assessment of everything that was wrong with the world as they saw it.
Their Cynicism did not explain, for instance, how exactly we have become trapped in ways of seeing the world, and habits of living, that we need to escape. And it did not outline exactly what we need to do in order to become free of our restraints and learn to live a fuller life. This is partly down to the fact that for the Cynic these are all practical questions. In a sense, everyone needs to find their own way.
Accordingly, we must each explore in practice how we have been conditioned to accept the unacceptable; we must each investigate our habitual ways of being and seeing, and explore how and where we might adjust our lives. It is not up to someone else to tell us what we must do, because if someone else does that, they are imposing their authority and, for the Cynic, all authorities are to be questioned. This suspicion of authority does of course extend to the Cynic too, which is why a Cynic will resist the role of teacher, guide or prophet.
We can still learn from Cynicism, however. We just need to approach the question of learning, of how to learn from others, a little differently. If the Cynic will not advise or guide us, or suggest what we must do, we can still observe what the Cynic does, and try to understand what it might mean to be a Cynic.
It also happens to be the case that ancient Cynicism is known about only anecdotally and largely second hand. The ancient Cynics did not write down their teachings (at least none survive), and we must turn instead to reports written by others describing what they did. These were often written hundreds of years later, and the largest collection of anecdotes was assembled by a very different Diogenes, someone called Diogenes Laertius, who compiled his Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers in the 3rd century CE. By far the most entertaining in his collection is Book VI, which is devoted to the Cynics, a squalid bunch who were nonetheless considered in antiquity to be as worthy of the title ‘philosopher’ as their more serious and aloof contemporaries. Diogenes, who lived in the 4th century BCE, was by far the oddest and most notorious of them all. Arriving in Athens from the outer fringes of the Greek world, he set up camp inside a large barrel, or storage jar, and soon became famous for his bizarre and unsettling behaviour.
Even if you don’t take up living in a barrel or try yourself out on a diet of lupin beans, thinking about how the Cynics behaved might help you to realise the social constraints we all live under. It might also help to show how acting odd can offer a route to seeing the world around you from a different perspective. In what follows, I will pick five elements, or traits, that may be associated with the life and example of Diogenes. These will be explored in an effort to think through what it might mean to be a Cynic in the ancient sense.