The Nine Charioteers
Aug. 31st, 2009 03:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lhexaTwo philosophers met one day. The first was an officer in the Roman army, and a devotee of the Stoics; he carried a work by Cicero, whose Roman sense for order and accuracy he admired. The second, a teacher and a giver of counsel, found his inspiration in the deeply reasoned works of the Skeptics and Cynics; he was never to be found without a volume of the great Sextus Empiricus. The two found in each other kindred spirits; but they soon came to disagree. The Skeptic thought that, appearances to the contrary, words had no actual meaning; the Stoic disputed this. Because there were many hours left in the day, the Skeptic proposed that a test be made, whose description excited the curiosity of the Stoic. He bade his slave to fetch his chariot and driver, and the two philosophers were taken to the encampment of the Roman army. Nine charioteers were summoned, along with their chariots and horses in full harness. The chariots were among the finest in the Roman army, and the horses were sleek and beautiful; the philosophers smiled approvingly as the charioteers, all companions who knew each other well, assembled.
While the Stoic looked on, the Skeptic went to the first charioteer and asked him, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer felt humbled to be given such attention by a philosopher. So, he thought carefully, and replied, "It is the spirit of everything that is fast and powerful. It runs across the ground as fleetly as any animal, and hunts down its enemies more fiercely than any beast. It is the tip of the spear in the hands of the Roman Empire. It is the soul of the charioteer."
The Skeptic smiled and replied, "But surely that's not what it actually is."
"Well, no..." said the charioteer.
The Skeptic nodded sagely to the Stoic, and moved on.
***
The Skeptic asked the second charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The second one would have answered like the first, but the example of his predecessor made him think about the Skeptic's wishes. Deciding that the philosopher was giving a test of knowledge, the charioteer replied, "A chariot is a device made of wood, which moves on wheels, and is driven by horses."
The Skeptic said, "But is not a cart also wheeled, made of wood, and moved by horses?" Puzzled, the charioteer nodded. The philosopher continued, "So is that really what a chariot is?"
The charioteer began his second attempt: "A chariot is a wooden device with two wheels and a high front, which..." But the Skeptic interrupted him.
"You tried to tell me what a chariot is, but you could not answer the question. You did not know what a chariot is."
The Skeptic nodded again to the Stoic, who was quite amused by the exchange.
***
The Skeptic asked the third charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
But the charioteer refused to answer, instead looking around at his friends and asking: "Unless you tell us what you're looking for, I won't answer the question."
The Skeptic considered whether or not the charioteers deserved to be told the nature of the test. He glanced at the Stoic; noticing that his companion did not object, he answered, "I have argued that if not even charioteers know what a chariot is, then the word 'chariot' must not mean anything. This truth is what makes me call myself a Skeptic, and this is why I am testing the nine of you."
The third charioteer found this strange, but he assented to the test. When the Skeptic asked the question again, the charioteer pointed to his chariot and said, "That is a chariot."
Tucking his Sextus Empiricus safely under his arm, the Skeptic went to the chariot and unharnessed its two horses. Then he asked the charioteer, "Is it still a chariot?" The charioteer said that it was. Then the philosopher removed a plank from the chariot's platform, and asked the same question again. The charioteer nodded. But the Skeptic next removed a wheel from the chariot; and when asked the question, the third charioteer did not know what to say. He simply remained quiet, while the Skeptic repeated his question.
Finally the philosopher said: "It is plain that you cannot answer this question. And it is a universal principle that when a question is asked, and its recipient cannot answer, it must be because he knows no answer."
The Skeptic nodded smugly to the Stoic, and moved on.
***
The Skeptic asked the fourth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
He replied, "I have lived most of my life on or near chariots, and I have never had trouble recognizing one. Though I cannot describe one perfectly, I will always be able to say what it is that you put in front of me."
So the Skeptic picked up the wheel that had previously been removed, and asked, "Is this a chariot?"
"No," replied the charioteer, smirking. "That's just the wheel of a chariot."
The Skeptic then went to the fourth chariot, and began to carefully dismantle it. The charioteers looked on, starting to grow restless; but a crowd had begun to form around the scene, and they did not wish to dishonor themselves by leaving a philosopher's test. After the Skeptic had finally finished dismantling the chariot, the pieces sat in a heap, but were placed together in a way so that they still resembled a chariot. The Skeptic asked, "Is this a chariot?"
"Those are all the parts of a chariot, together in a heap."
"Is it a chariot, or is it not a chariot?" the Skeptic asked insistently.
The charioteer replied, "I just told you what it is. It's a heap of chariot parts."
The Skeptic repeated his question, and got the same answer. So he said: "You have demonstrated your ignorance. A mere charioteer cannot be expected to know logic, after all. You do not know that it must either be or not be a chariot. You do not know what a chariot is." The fourth charioteer began to speak, but was waved silent by the Skeptic.
The Skeptic nodded to the Stoic, whose amusement had now faded.
***
The Skeptic asked the fifth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer did not respond, but simply mounted his chariot. The Skeptic accepted this answer, walked up to the chariot, and removed a handle. "Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer nodded. The Skeptic repeated this several times, taking different pieces off the chariot. The charioteer continued to nod at every question, until the Skeptic removed the lynchpin from one side of the axle. Then, when the Skeptic's question was next asked, the charioteer shook his head.
"Ah," replied the Skeptic, "But how is it that this is not a chariot, when just a moment before, and with just a little extra piece of wood, it was?"
The fifth charioteer simply took up the reins and whipped his horses into motion. For a while, all seemed well. But, shortly after the horses reached the speed of a gallop, a wheel flew off the axle, and the chariot collapsed, along with the charioteer. It took some time for the horses to stop; meanwhile they dragged the charioteer in the wreckage of his chariot. It was clear that the man had been rendered unconscious, and that several of his limbs were broken; blood was smeared along the ground for several feet behind him.
The Skeptic looked on, wondering how to treat this case; but this time the Stoic spoke up, conceding: "That was an interesting answer; would that everybody could answer the questions of philosophers so elegantly! But I admit that it will not do as the definition of a chariot, for there are many other devices that will break in action, when small pieces are removed. Continue your test, please."
The Skeptic nodded relievedly to the Stoic, and moved on.
***
The Skeptic asked the sixth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer was aghast, staring at the body of his friend. Luckily, the injuries of the fifth charioteer were being attended to by some of the other soldiers who had gathered to watch; and more were coming at every moment. Because he did not want to neglect his duty to the philosopher, the charioteer averted his gaze and said, "I do not think I can answer any better than my friends have. I too will answer simply: that is a chariot." And he pointed to his chariot.
The Skeptic was starting to see his activity as tedious; so he waved a soldier to his side and requested his sword. Knowing that it is much quicker to forcefully smash such an object than to carefully take it apart, the philosopher hit the chariot with the sword. He held his Sextus Empiricus in his other hand, making his blows weak; but he gave them energetically. After a large piece of wood had been knocked off, he asked the sixth charioteer, "Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer was startled that his vehicle was being destroyed for the test, but he concluded that someone would repay the loss. He answered that it was still a chariot, and the Skeptic again started to smash away at the chariot. Soon the damage became too much for the charioteer to ignore, so he interrupted the Skeptic, saying: "Stop, you don't need to prove your point in this way. The word 'chariot' is vague; you can always come to a point at which I won't know whether or not it still describes what is before my eyes."
The Skeptic smiled approvingly, and replied, "Correct! Do you know why the word is vague, as well?"
"It just is," said the charioteer.
The Skeptic quickly continued, "Actually, it is vague because it really has no meaning. We like to think that the meaning of the word 'chariot' is real, but if it was, surely your knowledge would not have been defeated by such a small thing as taking a chariot apart!"
The charioteer felt that this was wrong; even after carefully considering the meaning of the Skeptic's assertion, he could not find it acceptable. He was getting angry, and wanted to yell; but he calmed himself, and responded, "That's not true. The word is vague, but not because it has no meaning."
The Skeptic asked again, "But why is the word vague?"
"It just is."
Sighing, the Skeptic replied, "I posed a question, a very important question, for which you had no answer. I, however, did have an answer for the question. And it is irrational to turn aside from an available answer, in favor of no answer."
When he heard this maxim, the charioteer shouted, "That's absurd! How can it possibly be true?" He looked to the Stoic for support.
The Stoic shrugged, and said, "It is a principle we philosophers live by."
The Skeptic nodded sagely, and moved on.
***
The Skeptic asked the seventh charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer gave the same answer that the sixth had made; he pointed to his chariot and said, "That is a chariot." Every time the Skeptic turned his sword to the chariot, and then asked, "Is it still a chariot?" the charioteer responded with a firm nod, believing that the Skeptic could not trick him as long as he never refused to answer, and was consistent in his judgment.
Eventually the chariot began to seem like nothing more than a pile of smashed wood; the Skeptic had cut the horses out of harness at some point. The seventh charioteer considered this a good enough time to stop saying yes to the Skeptic's question; so when the philosopher now asked, "Is it still a chariot?" the charioteer calmly said no.
"What, it suddenly ceased to be a chariot with this last plank that I smashed?" asked the Skeptic. The charioteer nodded. "But surely there is no definition of 'chariot', or standard of reason, that makes that plank so important."
"No, there isn't," replied the charioteer. "I just decided myself to make that the boundary."
The Skeptic chuckled. "The boundary is not yours to decide. Who in the world, other than yourself, would agree to it?"
The eighth charioteer, though anxiously awaiting his own turn, answered, "I would." The remaining charioteers also gave their assent. There were many in the now-large crowd who did not appreciate the methods of the philosopher; they too spoke up in agreement.
The Skeptic scoffed at this, saying, "It is absurd to think that any number of people could know the meaning of the word without myself also sharing in that knowledge." The Stoic, looking on, nodded cautiously. "You obviously do not know when something is or is not a chariot; do not try to pretend that you do."
The Skeptic returned the Stoic's nod, and moved on.
***
The Skeptic asked the eighth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer responded at length: "I can only give the same answer that my friends have: that is a chariot." He pointed at the chariot. "But I do have a criterion to fairly mark the division between being a chariot and not being one, at least in any situation we're likely to see. Maybe you will even agree with it; but all I need is for the division I mark to not be arbitrary." The Skeptic calmly endured this boasting, and was about to give the chariot his first blow, when the charioteer spoke up again.
"Wait, before you start... I am a philosopher myself, or at least my friends consider me one. They say that no one judges disputes better than I, and that few show more moderation. I have even learned to read, so that I may know the thoughts of those who have gone before me. As a philosopher speaking to a philosopher, you are obliged to spare me some of your attention. I have carefully watched the arguments you presented to my friends, and they are all sophisms and tricks at bottom. I am sure that I can refute all of them, in such a way that even you will have to agree with the truth of my discourse. Go ahead and start piling up the sandheap; the truth will not suffer from your 'tests'."
The Skeptic thought that no philosopher could be a charioteer, and no charioteer a philosopher, but he calmly refrained from saying this. He also calmly endured while the charioteer insulted his philosophical method. Instead of replying, he struck the chariot, removing several chunks of wood, and asked, "Is it still a chariot?" The eighth charioteer answered that it was, and then asked a simple question of his own: "Dear philosopher, will you be giving me a chariot to replace the one you are destroying?" But the Skeptic struck the chariot again, more savagely this time.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer assented again, and asked another question of his own, this time asking why the Skeptic had not chosen a simpler test. The Skeptic did not answer this, either, instead returning to his own question: "Is it still a chariot?" The charioteer politely said yes once more, then posed another question that went unanswered; and things continued in this way for quite some time. The crowd, which had been growing at a tremendous pace since word had spread of the earlier charioteer's injury, listened raptly to the exchange. The Stoic was also absorbed in the uneven conversation, whose course he could not predict.
The questions addressed to the Skeptic were becoming more and more pointed. The man himself was growing weary, his arm now barely able to support the weight of the sword. Though it had been struck many times, the chariot was holding up well. Finally the charioteer asked a question which was not ignored: "Are you a Skeptic?"
"Of course I am," the Skeptic snapped.
The charioteer nodded, and continued.
***
The eight charioteer asked the Skeptic, "What is a Skeptic?"
The question surprised the Skeptic so much that he stopped attacking the chariot. But after puzzling over the query for a moment, he smiled, pointed to himself, and said, "This is a Skeptic."
The charioteer continued: "Tell me, how many questions can you interrupt before you stop being a Skeptic?" The man with the sword was too stunned at the charioteer's impudence to respond. "Changing something bit by bit will eventually make it hard to say what it is, and for some time I have been hard pressed to say whether or not you are a Skeptic."
"How many objections can you ignore before you can no longer be called a 'Skeptic'?"
"And how many answers can you malign before you can no longer be called by that name?"
"Does that word, too, mean nothing?"
"How many principles can you invent to show that a charioteer knows nothing, before it becomes obvious how rarely you... withhold judgment?"
"How many chariots can you destroy...?"
But at this moment the Stoic stepped in front of the charioteer, and said, "Your questions are apt ones. However, the test that I brought my fellow here for is not to be interrupted. I would not want for truth to go unseen because the wrong person spoke too rashly; let the investigations of this Skeptic proceed unhindered."
***
The charioteer could not decide whether or not to contest this request. But his opportunity was cut off as the Skeptic, who had remained completely silent, began to attack the chariot with a new, more vicious, strength. One wheel was smashed completely by a swordblow; the Skeptic asked, "Is it still a chariot?"
"Yes. And --"
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer paused, uncertain of what to say, for the Skeptic had not even struck again before restating the question. While the charioteer mulled, the Skeptic set to work again, and gave his familiar query before the previous one had even been answered. The charioteer replied, "It certainly --", but the Skeptic had started again on the chariot.
This time the Skeptic was seen to scratch something into the paint of the eighth chariot, where it was still intact. After he finished writing the sentence, the Skeptic asked, "Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer was shaken by the defacement, but he nevertheless replied, "Yes. And I have never --" But the Skeptic drowned this response with an especially loud swordblow. This seemed to make the Skeptic's weariness return, and the sword in his hand slumped; but he was determined to succeed at his test. Willing to prove in any way to the charioteer that counterarguments would not succeed, he decided that a more forceful demonstration was necessary.
The Skeptic walked to the horses, still harnessed to the now heavily-damaged chariot. These were among the best steeds in the Roman army, and the eight charioteer had trained them continuously to be good and responsive in harness. This was why, despite the nearby violence of the Skeptic, they had given little response; this was why they did not shy away when the Skeptic approached. So quickly that no one could interfere, the Skeptic cut the throats of the two horses. He stepped back as they thrashed in the harness, crumpling to the ground, and carefully wiped off a spot of blood that had fallen on his Sextus Empiricus. All the charioteers stared in horror while the Skeptic turned to the man whose horses he had just attacked.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The eight charioteer stumbled to the dying horses.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer fell to his knees.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer began to weep, for he had loved the horses.
The Skeptic nodded to the Stoic, who was now absolutely still.
***
The Skeptic asked the ninth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
Gripping his reins tightly, the charioteer whipped his horses into motion. At the sight of the slaughter that had just been committed, and upon seeing his companion's distress, he had mounted his own chariot. The first and second charioteers, whose chariots were still intact, had also mounted theirs. As his vehicle gained speed, the ninth charioteer shouted, "Tell me, Skeptic! Is this a chariot that's about to run you down?"
The Skeptic jumped aside from the path of the chariot, rolling on the ground for a moment before returning to his feet. He had nothing to say in response to the question.
The crowd also scattered from the path of the chariot, which was slowly turning back towards the Skeptic. There were officers in the crowd, yelling at the charioteers to stop. The charioteer shouted as he again drew near, "You say that a chariot means nothing. But like any enemy you jump aside from its approach! What kind of philosophy counsels that?"
The Skeptic was preparing himself to jump. He did not notice that the first two charioteers, silent but in accord with the ninth one's intentions, were coming from the opposite direction in chariots of their own. But now the Stoic, who had spent some time gazing impassively on the dead horses, stepped to the Skeptic's side, and in a loud voice commanded the charioteers to stop. All but the ninth did; the last man to be tested felt he must put an end to the methods of the Skeptic. But the charioteer could not bring himself to kill both men, so he pulled the horses to a halt mere yards before impact.
The Stoic and the charioteer glared at each other; but under the pressure of the officer's gaze, he stepped down from the chariot, fearing the worst. The crowd pressed in close to see what would happen, though out of deference none approached the eighth charioteer by his horses. The officers in the crowd had restrained the other two recalcitrant charioteers, and were waiting to see if the Stoic would give any orders. But before anything was said, the Skeptic spoke.
"My friend! Philosophy bids us be forgiving. Though to attack me so violently merits death, I would be willing to let these charioteers go with nothing more than a whipping."
Now the Stoic turned his gaze to the Skeptic. After several moments of silence, the Stoic smiled wryly, and asked, "But how would you know what a whip is? The word is meaningless, after all -- at least it is to me." The Skeptic laughed heartily at this, and agreed. The Stoic turned away and said, "This test is finished. Let us go now. You need not concern yourself with the charioteer's punishment."
The Skeptic nodded, and said to the gathered officers, "Thirty lashes should be enough."
***
The Stoic told his slave, "Bring me my chariot."
The chariot was brought, and the two left the scene. The story of the test would be retold many times by those who had watched it, and for the most part the charioteers were unharmed by the ordeal. No officer was willing to punish them, and the Stoic never gave the command. He later repaid in full the damage that had been done by the Skeptic.
"You should not have killed that philosopher's horses," the Stoic said to the Skeptic as he was being returned home.
"It demonstrated my point," replied the Skeptic. "So empty is the meaning of a word that one may attack anything and refute it. No one would say that a horse is a part of the chariot. Yet look how suddenly that charioteer's mind could no longer comprehend my question when the beasts were removed! I am amazed that one such as he considers himself a philosopher. But the test is complete, and it has succeeded."
"The test was not complete," replied the Stoic. "The last two charioteers never answered your question."
"So they didn't. But the ninth one chose rage over argument or answer. And the eighth one, that 'philosopher,' was also overcome by his emotion."
"Yes, I certainly did see the philosopher overcome by emotion. I will concede that seven cases suffice as a demonstration. But your test was still not successful in the way you think."
"How can you say that?" asked the Skeptic. "Didn't you see how, when I took apart the chariot and asked my simple questions, the meaninglessness of the word 'chariot' was revealed?"
"Something was revealed, yes," replied the Stoic. "But haven't you learned, as a Skeptic, how often arguments are circular? It seems that the word that is meaningful is nothing more than the one which satisfies your questions."
"But didn't you see that no charioteer could satisfy me with their answers?" asked the Skeptic. "I do not think I can accept your objection. Making definitions of words is a matter for dogmatists, those who think that they can grasp meanings by defining them. But I know that meaning cannot be grasped, and cannot even be investigated."
"What, then, would you call someone who continues investigating?"
"A fool. But you must acknowledge the success of my test."
"Not even a charioteer could tell you, skilled philosopher, what a chariot is," the Stoic conceded.
"Indeed, that is how I refute my opponents." The Stoic remained silent. "I'll admit that test did not go well," continued the Skeptic. "But I am willing to repeat it. You can gather as many horses as you want, with chariots as sturdy as you like, and more than enough charioteers to drive them. I will show you how I can reduce any of them to silence."
The Stoic did not nod. He said nothing.
While the Stoic looked on, the Skeptic went to the first charioteer and asked him, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer felt humbled to be given such attention by a philosopher. So, he thought carefully, and replied, "It is the spirit of everything that is fast and powerful. It runs across the ground as fleetly as any animal, and hunts down its enemies more fiercely than any beast. It is the tip of the spear in the hands of the Roman Empire. It is the soul of the charioteer."
The Skeptic smiled and replied, "But surely that's not what it actually is."
"Well, no..." said the charioteer.
The Skeptic nodded sagely to the Stoic, and moved on.
The Skeptic asked the second charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The second one would have answered like the first, but the example of his predecessor made him think about the Skeptic's wishes. Deciding that the philosopher was giving a test of knowledge, the charioteer replied, "A chariot is a device made of wood, which moves on wheels, and is driven by horses."
The Skeptic said, "But is not a cart also wheeled, made of wood, and moved by horses?" Puzzled, the charioteer nodded. The philosopher continued, "So is that really what a chariot is?"
The charioteer began his second attempt: "A chariot is a wooden device with two wheels and a high front, which..." But the Skeptic interrupted him.
"You tried to tell me what a chariot is, but you could not answer the question. You did not know what a chariot is."
The Skeptic nodded again to the Stoic, who was quite amused by the exchange.
The Skeptic asked the third charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
But the charioteer refused to answer, instead looking around at his friends and asking: "Unless you tell us what you're looking for, I won't answer the question."
The Skeptic considered whether or not the charioteers deserved to be told the nature of the test. He glanced at the Stoic; noticing that his companion did not object, he answered, "I have argued that if not even charioteers know what a chariot is, then the word 'chariot' must not mean anything. This truth is what makes me call myself a Skeptic, and this is why I am testing the nine of you."
The third charioteer found this strange, but he assented to the test. When the Skeptic asked the question again, the charioteer pointed to his chariot and said, "That is a chariot."
Tucking his Sextus Empiricus safely under his arm, the Skeptic went to the chariot and unharnessed its two horses. Then he asked the charioteer, "Is it still a chariot?" The charioteer said that it was. Then the philosopher removed a plank from the chariot's platform, and asked the same question again. The charioteer nodded. But the Skeptic next removed a wheel from the chariot; and when asked the question, the third charioteer did not know what to say. He simply remained quiet, while the Skeptic repeated his question.
Finally the philosopher said: "It is plain that you cannot answer this question. And it is a universal principle that when a question is asked, and its recipient cannot answer, it must be because he knows no answer."
The Skeptic nodded smugly to the Stoic, and moved on.
The Skeptic asked the fourth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
He replied, "I have lived most of my life on or near chariots, and I have never had trouble recognizing one. Though I cannot describe one perfectly, I will always be able to say what it is that you put in front of me."
So the Skeptic picked up the wheel that had previously been removed, and asked, "Is this a chariot?"
"No," replied the charioteer, smirking. "That's just the wheel of a chariot."
The Skeptic then went to the fourth chariot, and began to carefully dismantle it. The charioteers looked on, starting to grow restless; but a crowd had begun to form around the scene, and they did not wish to dishonor themselves by leaving a philosopher's test. After the Skeptic had finally finished dismantling the chariot, the pieces sat in a heap, but were placed together in a way so that they still resembled a chariot. The Skeptic asked, "Is this a chariot?"
"Those are all the parts of a chariot, together in a heap."
"Is it a chariot, or is it not a chariot?" the Skeptic asked insistently.
The charioteer replied, "I just told you what it is. It's a heap of chariot parts."
The Skeptic repeated his question, and got the same answer. So he said: "You have demonstrated your ignorance. A mere charioteer cannot be expected to know logic, after all. You do not know that it must either be or not be a chariot. You do not know what a chariot is." The fourth charioteer began to speak, but was waved silent by the Skeptic.
The Skeptic nodded to the Stoic, whose amusement had now faded.
The Skeptic asked the fifth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer did not respond, but simply mounted his chariot. The Skeptic accepted this answer, walked up to the chariot, and removed a handle. "Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer nodded. The Skeptic repeated this several times, taking different pieces off the chariot. The charioteer continued to nod at every question, until the Skeptic removed the lynchpin from one side of the axle. Then, when the Skeptic's question was next asked, the charioteer shook his head.
"Ah," replied the Skeptic, "But how is it that this is not a chariot, when just a moment before, and with just a little extra piece of wood, it was?"
The fifth charioteer simply took up the reins and whipped his horses into motion. For a while, all seemed well. But, shortly after the horses reached the speed of a gallop, a wheel flew off the axle, and the chariot collapsed, along with the charioteer. It took some time for the horses to stop; meanwhile they dragged the charioteer in the wreckage of his chariot. It was clear that the man had been rendered unconscious, and that several of his limbs were broken; blood was smeared along the ground for several feet behind him.
The Skeptic looked on, wondering how to treat this case; but this time the Stoic spoke up, conceding: "That was an interesting answer; would that everybody could answer the questions of philosophers so elegantly! But I admit that it will not do as the definition of a chariot, for there are many other devices that will break in action, when small pieces are removed. Continue your test, please."
The Skeptic nodded relievedly to the Stoic, and moved on.
The Skeptic asked the sixth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer was aghast, staring at the body of his friend. Luckily, the injuries of the fifth charioteer were being attended to by some of the other soldiers who had gathered to watch; and more were coming at every moment. Because he did not want to neglect his duty to the philosopher, the charioteer averted his gaze and said, "I do not think I can answer any better than my friends have. I too will answer simply: that is a chariot." And he pointed to his chariot.
The Skeptic was starting to see his activity as tedious; so he waved a soldier to his side and requested his sword. Knowing that it is much quicker to forcefully smash such an object than to carefully take it apart, the philosopher hit the chariot with the sword. He held his Sextus Empiricus in his other hand, making his blows weak; but he gave them energetically. After a large piece of wood had been knocked off, he asked the sixth charioteer, "Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer was startled that his vehicle was being destroyed for the test, but he concluded that someone would repay the loss. He answered that it was still a chariot, and the Skeptic again started to smash away at the chariot. Soon the damage became too much for the charioteer to ignore, so he interrupted the Skeptic, saying: "Stop, you don't need to prove your point in this way. The word 'chariot' is vague; you can always come to a point at which I won't know whether or not it still describes what is before my eyes."
The Skeptic smiled approvingly, and replied, "Correct! Do you know why the word is vague, as well?"
"It just is," said the charioteer.
The Skeptic quickly continued, "Actually, it is vague because it really has no meaning. We like to think that the meaning of the word 'chariot' is real, but if it was, surely your knowledge would not have been defeated by such a small thing as taking a chariot apart!"
The charioteer felt that this was wrong; even after carefully considering the meaning of the Skeptic's assertion, he could not find it acceptable. He was getting angry, and wanted to yell; but he calmed himself, and responded, "That's not true. The word is vague, but not because it has no meaning."
The Skeptic asked again, "But why is the word vague?"
"It just is."
Sighing, the Skeptic replied, "I posed a question, a very important question, for which you had no answer. I, however, did have an answer for the question. And it is irrational to turn aside from an available answer, in favor of no answer."
When he heard this maxim, the charioteer shouted, "That's absurd! How can it possibly be true?" He looked to the Stoic for support.
The Stoic shrugged, and said, "It is a principle we philosophers live by."
The Skeptic nodded sagely, and moved on.
The Skeptic asked the seventh charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer gave the same answer that the sixth had made; he pointed to his chariot and said, "That is a chariot." Every time the Skeptic turned his sword to the chariot, and then asked, "Is it still a chariot?" the charioteer responded with a firm nod, believing that the Skeptic could not trick him as long as he never refused to answer, and was consistent in his judgment.
Eventually the chariot began to seem like nothing more than a pile of smashed wood; the Skeptic had cut the horses out of harness at some point. The seventh charioteer considered this a good enough time to stop saying yes to the Skeptic's question; so when the philosopher now asked, "Is it still a chariot?" the charioteer calmly said no.
"What, it suddenly ceased to be a chariot with this last plank that I smashed?" asked the Skeptic. The charioteer nodded. "But surely there is no definition of 'chariot', or standard of reason, that makes that plank so important."
"No, there isn't," replied the charioteer. "I just decided myself to make that the boundary."
The Skeptic chuckled. "The boundary is not yours to decide. Who in the world, other than yourself, would agree to it?"
The eighth charioteer, though anxiously awaiting his own turn, answered, "I would." The remaining charioteers also gave their assent. There were many in the now-large crowd who did not appreciate the methods of the philosopher; they too spoke up in agreement.
The Skeptic scoffed at this, saying, "It is absurd to think that any number of people could know the meaning of the word without myself also sharing in that knowledge." The Stoic, looking on, nodded cautiously. "You obviously do not know when something is or is not a chariot; do not try to pretend that you do."
The Skeptic returned the Stoic's nod, and moved on.
The Skeptic asked the eighth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
The charioteer responded at length: "I can only give the same answer that my friends have: that is a chariot." He pointed at the chariot. "But I do have a criterion to fairly mark the division between being a chariot and not being one, at least in any situation we're likely to see. Maybe you will even agree with it; but all I need is for the division I mark to not be arbitrary." The Skeptic calmly endured this boasting, and was about to give the chariot his first blow, when the charioteer spoke up again.
"Wait, before you start... I am a philosopher myself, or at least my friends consider me one. They say that no one judges disputes better than I, and that few show more moderation. I have even learned to read, so that I may know the thoughts of those who have gone before me. As a philosopher speaking to a philosopher, you are obliged to spare me some of your attention. I have carefully watched the arguments you presented to my friends, and they are all sophisms and tricks at bottom. I am sure that I can refute all of them, in such a way that even you will have to agree with the truth of my discourse. Go ahead and start piling up the sandheap; the truth will not suffer from your 'tests'."
The Skeptic thought that no philosopher could be a charioteer, and no charioteer a philosopher, but he calmly refrained from saying this. He also calmly endured while the charioteer insulted his philosophical method. Instead of replying, he struck the chariot, removing several chunks of wood, and asked, "Is it still a chariot?" The eighth charioteer answered that it was, and then asked a simple question of his own: "Dear philosopher, will you be giving me a chariot to replace the one you are destroying?" But the Skeptic struck the chariot again, more savagely this time.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer assented again, and asked another question of his own, this time asking why the Skeptic had not chosen a simpler test. The Skeptic did not answer this, either, instead returning to his own question: "Is it still a chariot?" The charioteer politely said yes once more, then posed another question that went unanswered; and things continued in this way for quite some time. The crowd, which had been growing at a tremendous pace since word had spread of the earlier charioteer's injury, listened raptly to the exchange. The Stoic was also absorbed in the uneven conversation, whose course he could not predict.
The questions addressed to the Skeptic were becoming more and more pointed. The man himself was growing weary, his arm now barely able to support the weight of the sword. Though it had been struck many times, the chariot was holding up well. Finally the charioteer asked a question which was not ignored: "Are you a Skeptic?"
"Of course I am," the Skeptic snapped.
The charioteer nodded, and continued.
The eight charioteer asked the Skeptic, "What is a Skeptic?"
The question surprised the Skeptic so much that he stopped attacking the chariot. But after puzzling over the query for a moment, he smiled, pointed to himself, and said, "This is a Skeptic."
The charioteer continued: "Tell me, how many questions can you interrupt before you stop being a Skeptic?" The man with the sword was too stunned at the charioteer's impudence to respond. "Changing something bit by bit will eventually make it hard to say what it is, and for some time I have been hard pressed to say whether or not you are a Skeptic."
"How many objections can you ignore before you can no longer be called a 'Skeptic'?"
"And how many answers can you malign before you can no longer be called by that name?"
"Does that word, too, mean nothing?"
"How many principles can you invent to show that a charioteer knows nothing, before it becomes obvious how rarely you... withhold judgment?"
"How many chariots can you destroy...?"
But at this moment the Stoic stepped in front of the charioteer, and said, "Your questions are apt ones. However, the test that I brought my fellow here for is not to be interrupted. I would not want for truth to go unseen because the wrong person spoke too rashly; let the investigations of this Skeptic proceed unhindered."
The charioteer could not decide whether or not to contest this request. But his opportunity was cut off as the Skeptic, who had remained completely silent, began to attack the chariot with a new, more vicious, strength. One wheel was smashed completely by a swordblow; the Skeptic asked, "Is it still a chariot?"
"Yes. And --"
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer paused, uncertain of what to say, for the Skeptic had not even struck again before restating the question. While the charioteer mulled, the Skeptic set to work again, and gave his familiar query before the previous one had even been answered. The charioteer replied, "It certainly --", but the Skeptic had started again on the chariot.
This time the Skeptic was seen to scratch something into the paint of the eighth chariot, where it was still intact. After he finished writing the sentence, the Skeptic asked, "Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer was shaken by the defacement, but he nevertheless replied, "Yes. And I have never --" But the Skeptic drowned this response with an especially loud swordblow. This seemed to make the Skeptic's weariness return, and the sword in his hand slumped; but he was determined to succeed at his test. Willing to prove in any way to the charioteer that counterarguments would not succeed, he decided that a more forceful demonstration was necessary.
The Skeptic walked to the horses, still harnessed to the now heavily-damaged chariot. These were among the best steeds in the Roman army, and the eight charioteer had trained them continuously to be good and responsive in harness. This was why, despite the nearby violence of the Skeptic, they had given little response; this was why they did not shy away when the Skeptic approached. So quickly that no one could interfere, the Skeptic cut the throats of the two horses. He stepped back as they thrashed in the harness, crumpling to the ground, and carefully wiped off a spot of blood that had fallen on his Sextus Empiricus. All the charioteers stared in horror while the Skeptic turned to the man whose horses he had just attacked.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The eight charioteer stumbled to the dying horses.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer fell to his knees.
"Is it still a chariot?"
The charioteer began to weep, for he had loved the horses.
The Skeptic nodded to the Stoic, who was now absolutely still.
The Skeptic asked the ninth charioteer, "What is a chariot?"
Gripping his reins tightly, the charioteer whipped his horses into motion. At the sight of the slaughter that had just been committed, and upon seeing his companion's distress, he had mounted his own chariot. The first and second charioteers, whose chariots were still intact, had also mounted theirs. As his vehicle gained speed, the ninth charioteer shouted, "Tell me, Skeptic! Is this a chariot that's about to run you down?"
The Skeptic jumped aside from the path of the chariot, rolling on the ground for a moment before returning to his feet. He had nothing to say in response to the question.
The crowd also scattered from the path of the chariot, which was slowly turning back towards the Skeptic. There were officers in the crowd, yelling at the charioteers to stop. The charioteer shouted as he again drew near, "You say that a chariot means nothing. But like any enemy you jump aside from its approach! What kind of philosophy counsels that?"
The Skeptic was preparing himself to jump. He did not notice that the first two charioteers, silent but in accord with the ninth one's intentions, were coming from the opposite direction in chariots of their own. But now the Stoic, who had spent some time gazing impassively on the dead horses, stepped to the Skeptic's side, and in a loud voice commanded the charioteers to stop. All but the ninth did; the last man to be tested felt he must put an end to the methods of the Skeptic. But the charioteer could not bring himself to kill both men, so he pulled the horses to a halt mere yards before impact.
The Stoic and the charioteer glared at each other; but under the pressure of the officer's gaze, he stepped down from the chariot, fearing the worst. The crowd pressed in close to see what would happen, though out of deference none approached the eighth charioteer by his horses. The officers in the crowd had restrained the other two recalcitrant charioteers, and were waiting to see if the Stoic would give any orders. But before anything was said, the Skeptic spoke.
"My friend! Philosophy bids us be forgiving. Though to attack me so violently merits death, I would be willing to let these charioteers go with nothing more than a whipping."
Now the Stoic turned his gaze to the Skeptic. After several moments of silence, the Stoic smiled wryly, and asked, "But how would you know what a whip is? The word is meaningless, after all -- at least it is to me." The Skeptic laughed heartily at this, and agreed. The Stoic turned away and said, "This test is finished. Let us go now. You need not concern yourself with the charioteer's punishment."
The Skeptic nodded, and said to the gathered officers, "Thirty lashes should be enough."
The Stoic told his slave, "Bring me my chariot."
The chariot was brought, and the two left the scene. The story of the test would be retold many times by those who had watched it, and for the most part the charioteers were unharmed by the ordeal. No officer was willing to punish them, and the Stoic never gave the command. He later repaid in full the damage that had been done by the Skeptic.
"You should not have killed that philosopher's horses," the Stoic said to the Skeptic as he was being returned home.
"It demonstrated my point," replied the Skeptic. "So empty is the meaning of a word that one may attack anything and refute it. No one would say that a horse is a part of the chariot. Yet look how suddenly that charioteer's mind could no longer comprehend my question when the beasts were removed! I am amazed that one such as he considers himself a philosopher. But the test is complete, and it has succeeded."
"The test was not complete," replied the Stoic. "The last two charioteers never answered your question."
"So they didn't. But the ninth one chose rage over argument or answer. And the eighth one, that 'philosopher,' was also overcome by his emotion."
"Yes, I certainly did see the philosopher overcome by emotion. I will concede that seven cases suffice as a demonstration. But your test was still not successful in the way you think."
"How can you say that?" asked the Skeptic. "Didn't you see how, when I took apart the chariot and asked my simple questions, the meaninglessness of the word 'chariot' was revealed?"
"Something was revealed, yes," replied the Stoic. "But haven't you learned, as a Skeptic, how often arguments are circular? It seems that the word that is meaningful is nothing more than the one which satisfies your questions."
"But didn't you see that no charioteer could satisfy me with their answers?" asked the Skeptic. "I do not think I can accept your objection. Making definitions of words is a matter for dogmatists, those who think that they can grasp meanings by defining them. But I know that meaning cannot be grasped, and cannot even be investigated."
"What, then, would you call someone who continues investigating?"
"A fool. But you must acknowledge the success of my test."
"Not even a charioteer could tell you, skilled philosopher, what a chariot is," the Stoic conceded.
"Indeed, that is how I refute my opponents." The Stoic remained silent. "I'll admit that test did not go well," continued the Skeptic. "But I am willing to repeat it. You can gather as many horses as you want, with chariots as sturdy as you like, and more than enough charioteers to drive them. I will show you how I can reduce any of them to silence."
The Stoic did not nod. He said nothing.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-20 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-23 03:22 am (UTC)