Showing posts with label Aporia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aporia. Show all posts

Friday, 6 March 2020

Before the Ontological Argument (Writing to Alvin Plantinga)





Date: Thu, 05 Mar 2020 23:44:33 +0000
To: Alvin Plantinga 
From: Thomas Yaeger 
Subject: Before the Ontological Argument



Dear Professor Plantinga,

Things have moved along a great deal since I last wrote to you. You might like to read the following article, which argues that the idea of the One, and its transcendent nature, was known in the Neolithic and the Early Bronze Age in Britain. Which, if this argument is correct, means we are talking about more than five thousand years ago, and long before Anselm and Aquinas attempted to make rational sense of religion.

There are many parallels in the mathematics which are evident in the Neolithic monuments with ideas which we can identify in later times - in particular in the case of ancient Greece. Such as the ideas of totality, the important role of integral numbers in connecting us with what is Divine, and the centrality of mathematical and geometric commensurability.  Greek conceptions about these is a development of the earlier ideas, as close study shows.

The underlying perception in the British Neolithic was that the physical reality in which we live is not Reality itself, which is demonstrated by the various puzzles (the aporia) which physical reality contains. This view also emerges from Plato, since he argues (through Socrates) that Reality itself exists in no time or space. Time and space are representations of a transcendent reality, and not truly real in themselves.

I'm arguing that a rational basis for belief in the Divine is a contradiction in terms. I know how important this is to you, so my apologies. The ancient arguments however make the modern idea of belief irrelevant to any conjecture about the Divine. If there is a transcendent reality which we might term as the Divine, it is necessarily real, since it is what lies behind all human experience, despite having its reality nowhere in time and space.

As I suggested before, the ancient conception was that Reality and the Divine were coterminous - or otherwise, two ways of speaking about the same thing.

One of the implications of the idea that reality itself is One, and cannot change, but stands behind physical reality, is that Reality and physical reality are essentially the same (I've argued this in detail in my books). Though they are represented differently to the human understanding. Physical reality contains a number of incommensurable values, whereas Reality contains values which are commensurable, and often related to what is incommensurable in physical reality. If they are in fact one and the same reality, but with a double nature, reconciling the differences between these worlds might have been a matter of some importance to religious establishments in the ancient world. Which is what I argue (in this article) the priests responsible for the design and building of megalithic structures were doing. The mathematics bear this out.

This offers important clues to the actual origin and significance of human religion, despite some of the nonsense which has been written on this subject.

The article is at:

'The Mathematical Origins of the Megalithic Yard'.

http://shrineinthesea.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-mathematical-origins-of-megalithic.html

....

 Best wishes,

Thomas Yaeger

Friday, 14 February 2020

The Mathematical Origins of the Megalithic Yard




Did Alexander Thom discover interesting stuff about the British Neolithic, or was he deluded in what he thought he saw? The modern consensus among the archaeological community is that he discovered nothing of importance which was actually present in the evidence. This was supposedly shown by a large scale resurvey of the stone circles conducted by Clive Ruggles in the eighties. This resurvey was conducted with a great sensitiveness to the possibility of selection bias. This sensitivity was taken to such extremes however, that it would have been impossible to verify much of Thom’s surveying and interpretation as the archaeologist Euan Mackie has indicated.

That of course, was the point. We already had some nice models of antiquity which didn’t involve much in the way of interpretative mathematics, there was little interest in the precision which seemed to be present in an ancient preoccupation with the sky, and in the observation of rising and setting points, equinoxes and solstices, and in the nineteen year metonic cycle of the moon’s movements. The foresights which seemed to be used to indicate something of importance to the ancient astronomers and priests were largely ignored in the Ruggles resurvey. We liked the models we had before, and didn’t like or understand what might be implied in a British antiquity which was populated by mathematicians, engineers and astronomers who thought the sky was a key object of interest, and who threw vast resources at the construction of monuments whose purpose was hard to fathom.

After the resurvey of the monuments the archaeological community turned away from the questions which Thom’s original surveys and measurements had thrown up. Enough doubt had been sown to make the territory he had explored a matter of disinterest to the community, and entirely lacking in anything that archaeologists needed to consider. Whatever we could find out about the megalith builders would not be found out by following Thom’s lead. There is still interest out there in Thom’s work of course, but no-one is pursuing similar research within an academic context.

We know from Classical writers that the study of aporia was a matter of some interest to those interested in philosophy, mathematics and physics, discussed in Plato’s Sophist and the Timaeus, and also in Bk 3 of Aristotle’s Metaphysics. Pythagorean triangles are one kind of puzzle which could be explored, and it was evidently a matter of great interest in the Neolithic, since they used a number of the Pythagorean triangles, and not just the basic 3.4.5. instance. The 16 basic triangles can be enumerated as follows:

(3, 4, 5)  (5, 12, 13)  (8, 15, 17)  (7, 24, 25)

(20, 21, 29)  (12, 35, 37)  (9, 40, 41)  (28, 45, 53)

(11, 60, 61)  (16, 63, 65)  (33, 56, 65)  (48, 55, 73)

(13, 84, 85)  (36, 77, 85) (39, 80, 89) (65, 72, 97)

To us, these are just geometrical figures, and we don’t ask many questions about why these exist. But that was not the case in antiquity. For those engaging with these figures, they were puzzles. Why did these triangles with sides which were whole numbers meet and agree once two of the sides were squared and the hypotenuse was squared? Their sides don’t meet and agree when considered as triangles, yet they do when multiplied into their square values.

We also know from classical writers that there was a great deal of interest in the idea that things should ‘meet and agree’. Once of the most famous stories from antiquity concerns a conversation between Solon and Croesus, involving some bizarre mathematics to bring together the mathematics of the cosmos and the days of the life of a man. (Herodotus).

So looking at these stone circles as forms of puzzle, with some relation to the universe in which we live, and as objects which were intended in some way to meet and agree with that cosmos, may provide some answers.

I’ve written about some aspects of this before, in ‘Pythagorean Triples and the Generation of Space’. I quote some passages from it here:

In antiquity, it was obvious to anyone interested in number, mathematics and geometry, that there were several aspects of the physical world that involved irrationality, long before it was possible to provide logical proof of such irrationality. One of these irrationalities was the relationship between the diameter and the circumference of the circle. We know that irrationality (understood as an absence of commensuration) was a major concern in antiquity, since the existence of it seemed to undermine the idea that the world was rational, and constructed by the divine on rational principles. In other words, the existence of irrational things served to undermine the idea that the world made sense, and that it was good.
What we understand as Pythagoreanism is actually a way of approaching the world and reality on the basis of number, mathematics and geometry. We have lost a grasp of this, particularly since the close of the ancient world. Pythagorean ideas are not the creation of Pythagoras in the sixth century B.C.E., but a range of ideas about the world, focussing particularly on numbers and geometry, and the puzzles which the study of these throws up … As such, these ideas and puzzles belong to any culture which chooses to address the divine in terms of how the universe is constructed. As already suggested, the Babylonians had a sense of this, though they were also interested in the practical applications. It is also the case that the inhabitants of Britain in the late Neolithic and the early Bronze Age had such a sense.
…. Alexander Thom surveyed many of the megalithic circles across Britain from the 1930s into the 1970s, and established that the circles were constructed on the basis of a number of different Pythagorean triangles, and that these circles were not in fact circular. The circumferences of these circles were modified in order to make their lengths commensurate with the length of the sides of the underlying triangles.These modifications testify to the contemporary idea in ancient times that the incommensurate nature of diameter and circumference shouldn’t be the case.
I’ve written elsewhere that Pythagoreanism, whether in the sixth century or long before, was a transcendentalist view of the world. Meaning that the world of physics and appearance in which we live, is not reality itself, but simply a presentation of it. And the presentation of it is, in a number of ways, crooked. So some aspects of physical reality are not rational. 
This does not mean that the ancient Pythagoreans were pitching themselves against the workings of the divine, but rather that they were trying to understand why what they saw, experienced and understood, was not rational. The answer was that their place of refuge was not reality itself, but a false representation of it.
In the physical world, they could therefore not expect rationality to be woven all through it. Thom identified the obsessive concern of the ancient Britons with whole numbers, and as a consequence (though this was not understood at the time he was studying the megaliths), we know that they were looking to a world beyond the puzzles and paradoxes, in which the relationships of one thing to another were rational in nature.
The theorem of Pythagoras, however it was articulated in the late Neolithic and the early Bronze Age, provided the answer to this. The relationship between the sides of a 3, 4, 5 triangle is irrational in nature, but by squaring the sides, the result is rational and commensurate. This would have been understood to point to a world which transcended space, in that it indicated a one-dimensional reality.
 In that world, some things which are incommensurate here,were commensurate. Which they might have taken to indicate that, beyond that limited  form of reality, there was another reality with no dimensions at all, in which all irrational values existed as commensurate with one another.
Plato echoed a range of Pythagorean ideas in his work, including that reality itself exists in no particular place, has no form or shape or colour. He also suggested that forms existed beyond geometrical figures existing in space, and that these were to be accessed in the mind alone.
The Pythagoreans may have understood physical reality to have been generated as the square root of mathematical values in a higher reality. The resulting incommensuration would necessarily generate space. We could not possibly live in a reality which embraced only one dimension, or even none at all. In which case physical reality might have been understood by the ancient Pythagoreans as a compromise of sorts, which made it possible for mankind to live.
Alexander Thom didn’t know any of this of course. He was an engineer and mathematician. Intellectually he was enormously bright, curious, and industrious, but he was lacking basic information about the ancient past, just as many archaeologists were in the 60s and 70s. He gave us a phenomenological and statistical description of what he was seeing. He noted the obsession with whole numbers, the construction of the stone circles using various instances of Pythagorean triangles, and the fact that many of the circles were not in fact circles, but were modified ellipses and egg shapes, designed to make the circumferences commensurate with the values of the triangles used in their construction.

We can see now that what the megalith builders were up to is reflected in written texts from the 1st millennium B.C.E if we read them carefully. The three things noted by Thom are all discussed – the importance of whole numbers, the interest in the strange nature of Pythagorean triangles, and the importance of making the incommensurate commensurate with itself.

This actually means that the world of the megalith builders is (in theory at least) intellectually accessible to us, though the last circles were built in the 14th century BCE, or thereabouts, and the builders left no written records about anything, never mind the construction of their circles. Those three things we know for sure, are huge clues to what they understood about what they were doing.

In ‘Patterns of Thought in Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain’ I wrote that:

…. the syncretism of Pythagoras draws on mathematical and geometrical ideas, as well as religious ideas. We normally choose to keep these separate. We imagine that they are separate. However, it is …. clear that they perceived the necessary impact of the various puzzles and paradoxes which investigation of mathematics and geometry had on their view of reality. These were not parlour games.
Pythagoras was putting together a new religion, rather than a secular philosophy. It is unlikely to have occurred to him that a secular philosophy was possible, or for him to imagine what that would mean. We think of Pythagoras as a philosopher, because of how we understand what came after Pythagoras and his school. It is possible for us to so distinguish religion and philosophy, because we have lost sight of some very important aspects of how the gods were understood in antiquity. Pythagoras was well aware of the importance of the mathematical and geometrical aspects of religion, which is why he included them with the materials that we more naturally understand as religious ideas.
….
 Much of what we think we understand of ancient religion is the product of a more or less modern view, which sees a continuity between the religion of the common era and antiquity. So, since ’rational belief’ concerning the divine, rather than actual knowledge of the divine was (and is) of great importance in the major religions of the common era, it is assumed that ancient religions drew their strength from the same source, and are qualitatively similar phenomena. Modern scholarship is able to hold this view because, since the Enlightenment, we see the phenomenon of religion as irrational. The behaviour which supported ancient cultic life (sacrifice, divination by entrails, the worship of statues, etc.) is clearly more irrational than medieval religious practice, so there is little about it which demands the application of modern critical thought.
If belief is what is important in ancient religion, then we have missed nothing. If however there is a technical substrate to ancient religious thought, a substructure which depends on a combination of logical analysis, number theory, mathematics and geometry, then we have missed almost everything. Such a substructure does exist, and Pythagoras was aware of it, which is why religious precepts, number theory, mathematics and geometry were all present in the three books of Pythagoras.
It is possible to make a list of things which are part of this technical substructure in the religions of the ancient world.  These are:
Extremity, the Mean, Totality, Perfection, Completion, Invariance, Integral (whole) numbers, the Incorruptible, the Commensurate, Greatness, Rising, Setting, Beginning, Ending, Duration, Periodicity, Points of transformation. And so on.
This list illustrates some of the things have exemplars on both the earth, and in the sky. These characteristics would, within this conceptual model of Pythagoras, have been understood to provide points of contact, and a bridge to the divine.
Why would Pythagoras want to create a synthesis of key components of ancient religions? There are many possible reasons, but the most important may be the intention to restore the technical level of religious thought and practice, then experiencing a long slow decline, so that number, mathematics and geometry might serve again, to make sense of the transcendental understanding of reality.
Can we apply the content of this discussion to the Late Neolithic and the early Bronze age in Britain? If, for the purposes of argument, we make the assumption that just as Pythagorean number, mathematics, geometry, and the transcendentalist outlook were, in the mind of Pythagoras, necessarily connected with each other, these four things would also be present in megalithic culture in Britain and Gaul, for the reason that the missing piece in the record, the philosophical transcendentalism, is the necessary logical consequence of an understanding of number, mathematics, and geometry.
As we know from the studies made by Alexander Thom, the stone circles were built on the basis of various sizes of pythagorean right-angled triangles, and laid out with ropes of precise length. There has been some critical discussion of the ubiquity of the measure he described as the megalithic yard, which measured 2.72 feet, which he established by statistical analysis. However, if Thom identified different standard pythagorean triangles in the construction of different megalithic circles, all of which were based on the measure, then the presence and use of the measure is confirmed. It need not however, have been the only standard measure.
The construction process was designed and executed in such a way that the circumference of the circles, whether elliptical, egg-shaped, or flattened, would always be an integral number of the units used. This interest in integral numbers appears to have been universal among the builders of the circles. The connectivity the integral numbers opened to transcendent Being is the reason why this was important.
This transcendent reality, understood to lie behind the physical world of appearances and its paradoxes (such as the essential identity of commensurate and incommensurate values), would be the principle focus of the megalith builders interest, and the design of the megalithic structures would have been understood to serve the function of strengthening the connections between the two worlds. The transcendent world contains what is perfect, and the world of phenomena contains only approximations to such perfections. As Robin Heath pointed out in his account of Thom’s work, Cracking the Stone Age Code, the phenomenal world would have seemed to the megalith builders to be something of a crooked universe.
Looked at from this point of view, we can discern a significant motive in the geometrical construction of the major circles which Thom surveyed and analysed in detail. We can also begin to understand why there were different approaches to the construction of the circles, rather than a single standard design. In a crooked universe, there could be no universal answer to the problems they were trying to resolve. This universe is full of irrationality, simply because it is not the transcendent reality, but an imperfect representation of it. The irrationality could however be overcome in the physical world in specific instances of geometrical construction. In one case, by creating a design utilising an ellipse which measured precisely a specific multiple of the units employed in the pythagorean triangle used as the basis of the structure. In another, by making the structure egg-shaped, again with the same intention. The circle might also be flattened, in order to make the circumference commensurate with the units of the underlying triangle. 
But there is also the astronomical function of megalithic circles. As Thom identified, some are connected with the sun and its movements throughout the year. Others are keyed to the complex movements of the moon. For the later Pythagoreans, and for Plato, the heavens represented a moving image of eternity. For these earlier pythagoreans, the heavens would be understood in the same way, and for the same reason. A megalithic circle might therefore be conceived as a representation, in an abstracted form, of some the properties and attributes of Eternity. Eternity is something which is whole and complete, and returns into itself.
It therefore made sense to mark the extreme points of the movement of the heavenly bodies (which have their existence in the moving image of eternity), as a further embodiment of the connection between the worlds. These were constructed using only integral values, derived where possible, proportionately, from the movement of the heavens in relation to the earth. Heavenly cycles would be explored and represented in the structure where possible, together with indications of their periods. The motive for building the circles was performative, meaning that the structures served a set of religious functions on account of their existence and nature.
One of the objections made by the archaeologist Jaquetta Hawkes in the Chronicle documentary on Alexander Thom, made by the BBC in 1970, was that since the megalith builders did not have writing, there was no way of handing information on to succeeding generations. She also suggested that the inhabitants of the island during the period of megalithic culture were ‘simple farming communities... nomadic even’. But we know that the later Pythagoreans cultivated memory. We are also told in Caesar’s account that becoming a priest in the late 1st millennium involved many years of study (around twenty), during which time a vast amount of information was committed to memory. So Hawkes suggestion that there was an absence of a means of handing on information is likely to be false. The cultivation of memory is built into the pythagorean view of reality, since what exists in the mind was understood to be more real than what could be understood by the senses.
Alexander Thom reported that the standard measure used in the construction  of the megalithic circles was 2.72 feet. This was established on the basis of a statistical analysis of the data from his surveys. What is perhaps peculiar to us now about this value is that it is expressed in terms of English feet. But Thom had been doing his surveys for forty years or so, beginning long before the UK chose to use the metric system, so that is how he had been analysing data since he began. It was based on the traditional measures used in the UK as far back as anyone knew. We don’t know the origin of the English foot.

Land measures have been associated with kings since time immemorial, but the reasons for this have long been lost. Archaeologists do two things when discussing this question: they acknowledge the association with kings, but then reify, and argue that the value of the measure is literally the length of a king’s foot. This is ridiculous of course, since all kings are human beings, and of different proportions. But it enables them to argue that there is no universally agreed measure on lengths, and consequently no understanding of standard measures. The whole history of metrology argues against this, but it is convenient to dispose of such arguments by reference to the length of a particular king’s foot.

Archaeologists like the model of progress, which implies (actually requires) that the further back you go, the less rational and intelligent people were, and that they were on a long hike to where we are now. This might be true. But they assume that it is true, which is why Thom’s work was more or less anathema to the profession.

Part of the problem is that we have a different model of what rational thought is, from what was understood to be rational thought in antiquity. There is a large grey zone between the two which is mostly unknown to both archaeologists and the historians of ideas, and issues relating to that zone are very rarely discussed. Archaeologists also like to go looking for what they expect to find, rather than what they ‘know’ isn’t there. So things which don’t fit, don’t get a lot of attention. But you don’t know what doesn’t exist by not being open to evidence which might not support your argument. Impossibilities need to be considered, even if only to decisively rule them out. Alexander Thom provided one of those impossibilities, and it is still on the table, even if most of the archaeological profession is ignoring it.

Did Alexander Thom discover the megalithic yard in his surveys of the megalithic circles? Certainly the measure was there, looked at from a phenomenological and statistical point of view. But he didn’t have any inside understanding of how the megalith builders thought about their constructions. He reported what he saw. But what you see is not necessarily what is there.

As a mathematician, he knew logarithms, and knew about Euler’s number. That number, rounded up very slightly, in terms of the convention, is 2.72. Exactly the number which Thom identified as the basis of the megalithic yard, expressed in terms of English feet. There is, as far as I know, no evidence that the knowledge of this ‘coincidence’ gave him a moment’s pause. But it gave me pause.

I think that what Thom actually discovered in the British Neolithic, was the early presence of the English foot. And that that measure was disguised by its multiplication by Euler’s number. The reason for that disguise of the basic unit of measure will be explained in the course of what follows.

First, we need to explore how ancient priests in Britain might have known about Euler’s number.

Let’s look at that number, and its significance. I’ve borrowed from two Wikipedia articles – the first on Euler’s number a), and the second b) on logarithms:

a) The number e is a mathematical constant that is the base of the natural logarithm: the unique number whose natural logarithm is equal to one. It is approximately equal to 2.71828, and is the limit of (1 + 1/n)n as n approaches infinity, an expression that arises in the study of compound interest. It can also be calculated as the sum of the infinite series..
The constant can be characterized in many different ways. For example, it can be defined as the unique positive number a such that the graph of the function y = ax has unit slope at x = 0. The function f(x) = ex is called the (natural) exponential function, and is the unique exponential function equal to its own derivative. The natural logarithm, or logarithm to base e, is the inverse function to the natural exponential function. The natural logarithm of a number k > 1 can be defined directly as the area under the curve y = 1/x between x = 1 and x = k, in which case e is the value of k for which this area equals one. ….
e is sometimes called Euler's number after the Swiss mathematician Leonhard Euler …. Euler's choice of the symbol e is said to have been retained in his honour. The constant was discovered by the Swiss mathematician Jacob Bernoulli while studying compound interest.
The number e has eminent importance in mathematics, alongside 0, 1, π, and i. All five of these numbers play important and recurring roles across mathematics, and these five constants appear in one formulation of Euler's identity. Like the constant πe is also irrational, (i.e. it cannot be represented as ratio of integers) and transcendental, (i.e. it is not a root of any non-zero polynomial with rational coefficients). The numerical value of e truncated to 50 decimal places is
2.71828182845904523536028747135266249775724709369995... 
So Euler’s number is intimately related to the idea of ‘one’, and is in a sense another representation of it. But instead of the representation being a rational whole number, this constant number is irrational in nature, and cannot be expressed in terms of a ratio of rational numbers. It is also a limit to which an infinite series tends, and it reaches that limit at infinity.

The history of our knowledge of logarithmic functions is relatively modern:

b) Logarithms were introduced by John Napier in 1614 as a means to simplify calculations. They were rapidly adopted by navigators, scientists, engineers, surveyors and others to perform high-accuracy computations more easily. Using logarithm tables, tedious multi-digit multiplication steps can be replaced by table look-ups and simpler addition. This is possible because of the fact—important in its own right—that the logarithm of a product is the sum of the logarithms of the factors.
I am not claiming that logarithms were known or used in the British Neolithic. I am suggesting however that those responsible for the stone circles were interested in the idea of infinite series, and knew, as consequence of that interest, the fact that such series tend towards a limit. That limit can be rounded up to 2.72. And that is what we now call Euler’s number.

So, if this hypothesis is correct (and to some extent I’m attempting to enter the souls of the priests here), why would they multiply these two numbers together, to arrive at what Thom called ‘the megalithic yard’? As already mentioned, making things ‘meet and agree’ is an interest arising out of the consideration of natural puzzles, where not everything is commensurable. The ancient priests and their scholars had a notion, arising out of the nature of some natural puzzles,that the natural world is full of irrational numbers, which by definition are not commensurate with each other. They also had the notion that these numbers are somehow commensurate with each other in some other place. Not necessarily somewhere conceived of as a physical space. The pythagorean triangles are an instance of this, in that, when subjected to a standard operation such as the squaring of their sides, they meet and agree. They can be represented meeting and agreeing in physical space also, but without representing one of the principal characteristics of triangles, which is that they enclose space.

The ‘some other place’ where incommensurate things are commensurate with one another cannot be seen, because it is not actually a place. Plato was careful to define the Heavens not as Eternity itself, but as a moving image of Eternity. I think it likely that the same notion was entertained in the British Neolithic. The heavens, however, as some kind of representation of Eternity, could be studied for clues about the nature of reality, hence the ancient interest in the Heavens.

But if Eternity is in no physical space, then it must be present all through the physical world. Not easily detectable, but often aspects of it could be manifest in physical instances. Some of which could be understood to meet and agree, even if represented in what is essentially a crooked representation of Eternity .I listed these things – abstract concepts – earlier in this essay. Hence the importance of wholes and totalities, and what is complete.

It follows that if Eternity itself is all through the world, then the nature of reality is necessarily two fold. Eternity is infinite, and physical reality is finite. But in fact the two are essentially the same thing, just viewed from different perspectives. We cannot see the infinite, but we can know that it is there, and that it is something which stands behind all sense experience. In which case, religious observance, expressed through the building of the monuments, and through ritual action, was about both honouring the underlying identity between the worlds, and healing the rift which exists between them. The major preoccupation of the priests was to bring more of eternal reality into the physical world.  

Eternity is one, whole, the totality of what is possible, and is complete in itself. On earth we can identify wholes as things which also belong to Eternity. In Eternity it is possible for all things which on earth are incommensurate, to be commensurate. On earth, wholes can be understood as things which are not irrational (such as whole numbers). But we can also represent a whole with an irrational number, which is the number which we know as Euler’s number. In Eternity both these numbers are commensurate with each other.

In multiplying these two numbers together, one rational, and the other entirely irrational, into the measure we know as the ‘megalithic yard’, they were attempting to represent in their monuments a state which properly exists in Eternity alone. A  state in which all things meet and agree.

Thomas Yaeger, February 13-14, 2020.

Thursday, 6 February 2020

Heidegger and Being: (Writing to @SemprePhi)



Hi. I read some of Heidegger’s Being and Time when I was around twenty, not realising that it was only the first third of a much larger projected volume. His essentially existential approach to gaining a theoretical grasp of ‘Being’ left me cold. This is because even then I didn’t think there was an existential approach possible, since, by definition ‘Being’ by itself is beyond actual existence.

Or at least by my definition, which was fuelled (at the time) by the sort of thing Plato said about it, and some of the statements by the presocratics. We might imagine that it exists, as all things must do, somewhere in space and in time. This Plato said was an illegitimate way of thinking about ‘the one true thing’. By its nature it cannot have its reality and nature in space and time.

Heidegger is aware of this of course, but nevertheless deflects from the consideration of Being as Being (the presocratics Aristotle described as the first philosophers to consider the question of Being qua Being). He looks leftwards again and again at existential and phenomenological approaches to questions of Being.

In the end, he argues, in a manner similar to Sartre later on when talking about meaning (in Existentialism & Humanism, which is the slightly inaccurate title his book is given in Britain), that existential experience, however imprecise and however poor it is as a process,  is the way in which to gain an understanding of what is difficult to apprehend.

In short, for me, Heidegger is not actually talking about Being at all, but the Being of living beings, and occasionally looking upwards at more abstracted and transcendent conceptions of what Being itself might be, though it is an unattainable concept.

Heidegger was a pupil of Edmund Husserl, who has been a major influence on me, also, though it a different way. Many of my essays on subjects start off from one place, and end up in another. Occasionally I follow the line of an established author or authors, and as the essay goes on, I start to deconstruct the elements which hold their argument together. After that, I may entirely reverse the premises of their argument, and go off in another direction. I was doing this before I had my close encounter with Husserl, but learning to see all information as elements which might be capable of being read and constructed in entirely different ways, and breaking down conventional narratives into their components, was a key part of my intellectual development.

I also had the advantage of having read widely in philosophy and ancient literature before I began formal study of the ancient world. So there was much more going on in my head than a direct interaction with texts as themselves. There were always other possible contexts, and other ways of understanding what their actual concerns might have been (this widened to an interest in iconography and ritual texts – no one treats the latter seriously (in their own terms), outside of a purely anthropological interest. Wittgenstein thought this was a foolish approach by the anthropologists).

One of the first things which set me on my current path was noticing (as I’ve mentioned elsewhere), that some equivalent technical terms in ancient Egypt were used in the same way as Aristotle did. But the Egyptian evidence was nearly a thousand years older (the concept of ‘completion’ for example). So it occurred to me that both the established history of philosophy (i.e., invented by the Greeks in the 5th century BCE), and that the idea that philosophy was the successor to religious thought (considered scarcely rational), might be components in a false narrative. So I started to move the building blocks of the conventional narratives around, to see if they made more sense when looked at from a different point of view.

I’ve mentioned Aristotle referring to the presocratics as the first philosophers to consider Being as Being, meaning in all the abstracted glory of the concept (Aristotle made an important distinction between the actual and the potential infinite, and the latter is still the basis of most mathematical work on the infinite. Why? It is hard to do mathematics and geometry with the actual infinite. The modern assumption is that nobody before the Greeks ever conceived of a direct engagement with the infinite (or with Being).

Yet the prosocratic concern with Being qua Being is in the wrong place. If it was in the right place, it would follow on from the kind of discussion we get from Plato and Aristotle, when contemplating various intellectual puzzles (the aporia). Yet there it is at the beginning of the Greek philosophical tradition. It is in fragments only, many of which were used by Aristotle in his Metaphysics. Could it be that these fragments were the product of a sophisticated discussion of philosophical questions in the Eleatic school and elsewhere, much earlier, and that such discussion has just dropped out of the record? Or perhaps was never committed to writing at all?

I know the answer to that question now, which is that the Greeks did indeed get their philosophical ideas from elsewhere, which is not to say that they did not do philosophy themselves before this (I’m in the process of writing up the evidence and case for the Greek close encounter with Ancient Assyria in the seventh century BCE.)

I’ve been reading an extensive paper on Heidegger, and his uncompleted project of Being and Time. The latter half of the proposed book was actually looking to a deconstruction (or even destruction) of the history (and modern understanding) of philosophy. That was a big surprise, since it is essentially what my overarching project is about. For me, it is largely a necessary task because the Enlightenment placing of the first sophisticated discussion of philosophical questions in Greece between the seventh to the fourth centuries BCE entirely obscures the relevance of philosophy to the history and development of religion, both in the ancient Near East, and in ancient Greece. That false narrative needs to be fixed.

I’ve beaten over a thousand words in about an hour, so I will break off here. If you are interested the essay (actually seminar notes) on Heidegger’s Being and Time is at: https://cpb-us-w2.wpmucdn.com/campuspress.yale.edu/dist/8/1250/files/2016/01/Heidegger-Being-and-Time-1qtvjcq.pdf . By Karsten Harries, from 2014.

I’ll write about Parmenides and Heidegger’s discussion of Plato’s Sophist later.

Hope you have had a great start to the year!



Best, Thomas

Saturday, 31 August 2019

The Ka and Totality in Ancient Egypt




This is a speculative essay on the meaning of the Ka in ancient Egypt from May 1988. I'd forgotten that I'd written this, and I'm surprised to find that I'd written on this subject so long ago. The essay is written on the simple premiss that the Egyptians asked themselves the same fundamental questions about the nature of reality that the Greeks did (i.e., 'why is there something rather than nothing?' and 'is reality one, and if it is one, why are there many?' And so on).The most fundamental questions that can be asked of the world are likely to be universal.

My interest was in the possibility that these questions might lie at the root of religious thought and practice. A good way to find out if the Egyptians thought like this is to assume (for the purposes of argument) that they did. By the time I wrote this piece, I'd already read On the Mysteries by Iamblichus, which book suggests that the religious mysteries of both Egypt and Assyria are rooted in the same kind of intellectual territory discussed much later by Plato. Unlike modern specialists in Platonism, Iamblichus regarded Plato as a theological writer, who was discussing important theological questions in dialogue form. 

To be clear, I am not suggesting that the Egyptians were proto-Platonists. But the distinctions between the outward forms of theological and religious ideas does not preclude the possibility that the differences have a common root in the same fundamental questions which can be asked about the nature of reality. We already know that there were many common practices in the ancient world which suggest the presence of a common intellectual substrate, more or less lost to us. Sacrifice, worship of divine images, and so on. We write off these obvious similarities as the products of a more or less universal form of primitive stupidity. But the opposite may be true. And we won't find this out if we don't consider the possibility.  

The pages were scanned at 300dpi, and they are in JPG format. They can be saved and opened full size in an image browser. All the pages were typed using an IBM golfball typewriter. 

All eight pages have been assembled together as a PDF file, and uploaded to Zenodo. It can be accessed and downloaded at: https://zenodo.org/record/3383059#.XWuoZS5Ki02

TY, August 31 and September 1, 2019.












Friday, 10 May 2019

The Interpretation of Ancient History




[This is the introduction for Echoes of Eternity, originally due summer 2019, but rescheduled for May  2020.]



Introduction: The Interpretation of Ancient History


I’ve occasionally submitted work for competitions, and Echoes of Eternity (as it now is), grew out of an extended essay I wrote in 1991-2 for a university prize offered while I was a student at UCL.  It didn’t win, and at the time I didn’t imagine that it would. This is because I began with an essay critical of historicist approaches to the study of the ancient world, and particularly that form of historicism which appears in the writings of Marx. The historicist approach was very widespread in the University of London at the time, and so I regarded writing the essay mainly as an opportunity to blow off some steam which had been building up during the preceding three years.

The essay was titled: ‘Mirrors of the Divine’, and subtitled ‘Aristotle's Teleological Model of the World and the Interpretation of Ancient History’. The main part of the essay was built on three pieces of text I'd written during my course at UCL.

What was the point of the essay beyond the opportunity to criticise modern historical methods? One of the reasons I chose to study ancient history was to understand ancient cultures within their original contexts. Which means gaining an understanding of how they themselves understood the world in which they lived, and in which they functioned. Before arriving at UCL I’d already absorbed Wittgenstein’s criticism of J.G. Frazer’s Golden Bough, which was to the effect that it is arrogant to presume that the ideas of other peoples are absurd or wrong-headed, simply because they do not make sense to us. Wittgenstein argued that if we understood their ideas in their original context, they might turn out to make a great deal of sense.

Modern scholars of ancient history would respond by saying that is exactly what they are doing – it is just that we now understand that the important drivers shaping ancient societies and cultures are material and economic, and are the universal drivers, operating in all times and places. Study those things, and you will understand the cultures.

And so much of the original context of ancient evidence is lost or ignored by modern historians of the ancient world.

However I am not at all arguing that the study of material and economic forces is unimportant. Studying those things is just as important as the other things which are available for study, such as religious ideas and rituals, literature, philosophy, mythology and art. But I grew tired of the argument that for example, the Romans of the 1st century B.C.E. understood their deep history and culture more poorly than we do, because they did not possess the proper context in which to analyse the limited historical materials they had available to them.

The importance of material and economic forces derives from the Marxist philosophical perspective, which is the bedrock philosophy of many historians (though many would deny that they are Marxists in outlook – I once heard an eminent historian say that he was ‘Marxian’ in outlook, rather than a Marxist). The sociological approach to ancient history is based ultimately on Marx’s philosophy.

Marxism contains a useful concept for dealing with things which do not fit the model. That concept is ‘false consciousness’. The philosophical analysis of Marx is assumed to be correct, and so any body of thought which doesn’t square with that analysis is presumed to be wrong, and the product of a false consciousness. According to this way of thinking, the Romans lived in a false consciousness of who and what they were, and why they did what they did. For the whole of their history.

Any body of thought which uses such a catchall concept in which to spirit away what doesn’t fit with its own conceptions, isn’t a properly functioning model of reality. It can’t be, because it already presumes its own truth.

The original four sections of the essay from 1991-2 survive here, though they have been revised and re-englished (‘Synoikismos’ first appeared in Understanding Ancient Thought in 2017). They are ‘Camera Obscura’, ’Synoikismos and the Origins of the Polis’, ‘Kingship in Ancient Assyria’, and ‘Proskynesis, and the Deification of Alexander’. The subtitle of the essay,Aristotle's Teleological Model of the World and the Interpretation of Ancient History’, was chosen because of the importance of the teleological perspective in antiquity, and particularly in Greece, and the fact that our principal source of detailed discussion of the concept is Aristotle. Aristotle did not however invent the concept (I have heard a specialist in both Greece and Aristotle rather foolishly suggest that he did).

What I was doing with the three sections which followed on from the opening criticism of the historicist approach, was showing how (firstly) the evidence for the development of the Athenian polis suggests a background of philosophical and religious ideas out of which the practicalities of the polis were woven; (secondly)  how the extensive evidence we have for the religious and moral background to Assyrian Kingship shows that the conception of what the king represented was essentially teleologically understood, some three centuries before Aristotle, and shaped by a body of religious ideas which are available to us in Assyrian records. it explores the Assyrian emphasis on excellence and perfection, which anticipates ideas later discussed by Aristotle; (thirdly) how the principle source for the life of Alexander (Arrian’s Anabasis) constructs its argument according to a teleological frame, in which the principle protagonists represent different points of view about whether or not a man can become a god in his lifetime. This was not merely an artistic conceit, since the argument illuminates the desperate contradiction which underlies the idea of deification of the living if Aristotle’s teleological interpretation of divinity is correct (argued in the Nicomachean Ethics), which is that the gods, who are at the apex of the creation, can only contemplate, and are utterly incapable of action.

All the rest of the chapters (parts two and three) are additional, and were written between 2003 and 2020.

 ‘The Greek Ontological Model in the 1st Millennium B.C.E.’ dates from 2004, and suggests that Plato was not constructing his philosophy according to a programme of research of his own, but was working within something like an agreed and traditional ontology, connected to ideas of the divine, which is discussed. Understanding this allows us to make sense of a number of earlier philosophical writings which are often fragmentary.

‘Post-Enlightenment Plato and That which Cannot Move’ explores this argument in terms of the actual texts of the dialogues. The world view which emerges is clearly paradoxical, and Plato and his predecessors cannot be understood unless the paradoxicality of his outlook is recognised and embraced. The paradoxical nature of reality is what he wished to convey. From the enlightenment onwards, there has been a concerted effort not to see this. Written in 2016.

‘Greece and the cultural Impact of the Assyrian Empire’ is a discussion of the Mesopotamian input into the development of philosophy in Greece from the late eighth to the mid-sixth seventh centuries B.C.E. The Assyrians captured Athens (according to Abydenus, who was a pupil of Aristotle), and they were there long enough to build a temple, and cast statues of the gods in bronze.  Originally written in 2004, and now updated.

‘The Threshold in Ancient Assyria’ looks at the carpet style designs used to decorate the thresholds and entrances to Assyrian royal palaces, with their designs of alternating lotuses, open and closed. Is this just decorative design, or do they tell us something about how the Assyrians conceived of the transition between one state and another? Also written in 2004.

‘Symmetry and Asymmetry in the Iconography of the Ancient Near East’ explores the relationship between iconography in Mesopotamia and elsewhere, and the transcendentalist patterns of thought which lie behind the deliberate breaking of symmetries. Written in 2018.

Part Three begins with ‘The Keys of the Kingdom: Binding and Loosing in Heaven and Earth’, This short chapter explores the meaning of one of the most puzzling passages in the New Testament, and shows that it has its origin in a profound philosophical idea, related to the ‘holiness code’ found in Leviticus, though it is now used to justify temporal power. Written in 2019.

The three chapters which follow concern what we can know of intellectual life in the British Neolithic and early Bronze Age. I was essentially conducting a dialogue with both myself and the evidence while writing these, so they represent research in progress. Consequently there is substantial repetition of things discussed along the way. I’ve left the texts as they are, since they show how I got to the position outlined in the third chapter.

‘Being and Eternity in the Neolithic’ explores some aspects of the late British Neolithic which suggest the presence of a transcendentalist view of reality. Written in 2017.

‘Patterns of Thought in Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain’ is an extensive chapter, which builds on the idea that the builders of the megaliths had a transcendentalist and essentially proto-pythagorean outlook on the nature of reality, and that this outlook shaped their cultural production. Pythagoras reputedly spent 22 years studying in Egypt, and much of what we term as ‘pythagorean’ is therefore likely to be a great deal older. This chapter examines the ancient fit of the ideas which are associated with Pythagoras. Written in December 2017.


‘The Mathematical Origins of the Megalithic Yard’ explores the Neolithic and Bronze Age interest in whole numbers, mathematics, geometry, the idea of the infinite, and of infinite series. The chapter concludes that the measure of the megalithic yard expresses the ancient perception that the infinite and the finite are necessarily conjoined. Written in February 2020.

‘What We Have Lost, and How the Ancient Concept of the Cosmos Died’ is an extract from a letter written to a specialist in ancient astronomy written in early 2019, in response to questions about how the decline in the interest of astronomy and related mythology happened, as Christianity took hold. Written in 2019.

‘Marxism and Historicism’ discusses the fact that the Marxist understanding of reality is a deliberate inversion of Neoplatonist understanding, as mediated through Hegel’s use of the writings of Proclus, who was last head of the Athenian Academy. Written in 2015,

All of these chapters, including the two on Marxist ideas in the study of history, illustrate the important role played by philosophical ideas and abstractions in the cultural production of a number of civilizations. These ideas arise ultimately from conjecture about the nature of eternity, and questions relating to the divine – what it is, and what it means for mortals. The Greek word for these puzzles was ‘aporia’. What I am suggesting in these chapters is that such puzzles played a significant role in the development of thought about the nature of the divine,  as well as about the nature and importance of liturgy, art, and ritual practice, and the development of many other details which we associate with the rise of civilization.

Thomas Yaeger, May 10 – September 20, 2019. Updated May 5, 2020.

Saturday, 9 February 2019

The Roots of Philosophy: Six Books by Thomas Yaeger





The Sacred History of Being (2015)


The discipline of philosophy was not invented by the Greeks, but was in existence elsewhere, and as far back as the middle of the second millennium BCE. It has its origin in ancient divine cult. The detail of its presence can be traced in the civilizations around the ancient Near East, and particularly in Assyria and Babylonia. The Sacred History of Being collects the key evidence together, and examines the idea of the divine as a philosophical concept in Greece, Israel, and ancient Mesopotamia. Published as an eBook by the Anshar Press, November 2, 2015. 113k words. Available from Barnes & Noble, Itunes, Kobo, Blio, Inktera, Smashwords, etc. More information available at: https://shrineinthesea.blogspot.co.uk/p/the-sacred-history-of-being-as-its.html



J.G. Frazer and the Platonic Theory of Being (2016)


When he was only twenty-four years old, James Frazer won a Cambridge fellowship with an essay on the development of Plato's theory of the Forms or Ideas (eidos). In this essay he argued that there was no overarching theory of Being in Plato's mind before he embarked on the writing of his dialogues, and that consequently differences in approach and discussion apparent in his work are the result of the development of his thought. He also argued that the very idea of Being is a barren notion, in that nothing can be predicated of Being. As a result Plato made a mistake, effectively conflating an epistemology with an ontology. Though the essay was written in 1879, it was not published until 1930, after much of his later work was done. Frazer became famous for his monumental study The Golden Bough, which explored a vast range of ancient and primitive myth and ritual. Here too he found intellectual processes founded in error. What was Frazer's intention in re-interpreting Plato against what Plato himself said, and his wholesale restructuring of ancient thought by reducing much of it to a pattern of error? Over 23 thousand words, a preface, select bibliography, and extensive notes. Published by the Anshar Press, April 4, 2016. http://shrineinthesea.blogspot.co.uk/p/j.html




Understanding Ancient Thought (2017)


'Understanding Ancient Thought' is the third in a series of books which examines how we assess evidence from antiquity, and frame models to make sense of that evidence. The book consists of eighteen essays, which cover a number of subject areas which are in thrall to what Foucault described as an ‘episteme’. In other words, the way the subject areas are understood within the academy is in terms of what our cultural models, language and assumptions will allow us to understand. The actual evidence may suggest an alternative view, but it is not possible to see it, or to think it. At least until the paradigmatic frame shifts to another ‘episteme’.The main thrust of the book is that two hundred years of modern scholarship concerning the past has, for the most part, assembled a fictive and tendentious version of the ancient world. 51 thousand words. Published by the Anshar Press, August 20, 2017. Available via Smashwords, Itunes, Barnes and Noble, Blio, Kobo, etc. http://shrineinthesea.blogspot.com/p/first-look-at-my-new-book-which-should.html




Man and the Divine (2018)


A collection of essays on philosophy, ancient cultic thought, and the problems of addressing and interpreting ancient evidence. The book also examines the nature of esoteric thought in antiquity, and the transcendentalist nature of ancient religion.  21 chapters. 

The Enlightenment of David Hume. Though Hume's empirical approach was not wholly successful, some of his intuitions expanded our collective understanding of how we perceive reality – for example, his insight that we have no actual knowledge of the process of causation at all, and only a customary expectation of causal process, was a powerful one. We can describe causal processes, we can differentiate the nature of different causal processes, and we can formulate rules in connection with them, but we cannot know how causality itself operates, or even be sure that a perceived causal relation, often observed before, will obey the implicit rule the next time it is under scrutiny by us. However, it is no longer clear that Hume was exploring his mental processes and understanding entirely within the framework of western secular thought. This chapter is based on intriguing research by Alison Gopnik.

The Death of Socrates. It is a puzzle that, in the midst of a thoroughly polytheistic culture in Athens, with its plethora of gods, its many cults and priesthoods in the service of those gods, that both Socrates and Plato could speak of ‘god’ in the singular. Our difficulty here is the result of a modern understanding of the significance of polytheism, which sees the phenomenon as the inevitable precursor to monotheistic belief, which excludes other gods from consideration, or credibility. For modern scholars, polytheistic belief in ancient Greece was something which developed, higgeldy-piggeldy, out of a plethora of local and tribal deities, much embellished with myths about their lives and actions, which served important social functions, but which had no universal meaning, and were not rooted in a model of reality which embraced consideration of what the nature of reality itself might be.

The Irrationality of Atheism, Atheists do not deny the existence of the world, its laws and properties: they just argue that the concept of God is not required to accept the world, and to have an understanding of it. But this leaves them at a loss to explain how the world came to be, and why it should have come into existence.

Richard Dawkins and Deism. Modern atheism is actually dependent for its nature on the ontological argument, and the terms in which it is framed. Meaning that eight hundred years of argument about the nature and existence of God underpins the point of view of those who regard themselves as atheists. Dawkins makes a distinction in ‘The God Delusion’ between theism and deism. Theism is a pattern of belief which enshrines the idea that the Divine is responsive to man, and his rituals of worship and prayer. It is a pattern of belief dependent on the idea that God can act in the world. By contrast, deism contemplates the idea that a creator God has existence, and necessarily created the world, but that he is not active in the physical world beyond that. This essay argues that Dawkins is in fact a modern deist rather than an atheist.

Contra Plantinga. Alvin Plantinga was kind enough to accept a copy of The Sacred History of Being. I sent two supplementary emails which outlined the implications of its criticism of the traditional ontological argument, whose function is to support a rational basis for belief, which are reproduced here.

Distinguishing Belief and Faith. Modern scholarship has a track record of making easy assumptions about the continuity of religious ideas and patterns of practice, and the accompanying social compacts. At the time the Assyrian palaces, temples and cities were being dug from the sand and soil in northern Mesopotamia, it was assumed that the relationship between the royal and temple establishments could be understood in terms of a modern division between church and state. This notion turned out to hold very little water on close analysis. It is also the case that belief is not a conspicuous feature of ancient religions.

Logic, Sophistry, and the Esoteric in Ancient Education. Both Plato and Aristotle's writings contain arguments which either don't make clear logical sense within themselves, or in the context of the rest of the work. Sometimes the clues to the meaning of arguments are present elsewhere in the canons of both Plato and Aristotle, and some of them clearly involve an esoteric level of understanding. The whole body of their outputs need to be taken on board in order to grasp the meaning of individual works. This is usually not done with the works of Aristotle: his Historia Animalium is read by biologists and specialists in animal taxonomies, but usually they read little else of his work.

Beyond Mathematics and Geometry. The process of separating ourselves from an interpretation of the world in terms of simple apprehension is driven initially by the practical necessities of our existence. But this process does not need to stop there. Intelligence consists in being able to adjust the categories of our understanding so that we do not mistake one thing for another. It is a mental development which might have no end. This is essentially how Kant understood human intellectual development, which he framed (in his Prolegomena) in terms of a general theory of a priori concepts, not based on empirical sense data, or even a mathematical or geometric understanding of anything in the world.

Evading the Infinite: A Review of A.W. Moore’s ‘History of the Infinite’. This chapter is a critical response to Adrian W. Moore's radio series 'The History of the Infinite', broadcast in the autumn of 2016, and his book 'The Infinite', published in the early 90s. His treatment of the subject hardly references Plato at all. Adding Plato to the discussion changes the way in which the argument should be framed. The actual infinite is the principal source of ancient ideas concerning the divine, not Aristotle's potential infinite, so Moore's argument concerning our knowledge of God is forced to take refuge in the quasi-mystical Calvinistic idea of a 'sensus divinitatis'. His argument also makes it impossible to understand Kant's treatment of religion.

The Esoteric Conception of Divinity in the Ancient World. In my twenties, I was struck by the strong interest the ancients had in the idea of limit – in art, architecture, philosophy, and ritual. This interest did not much seem to engage modern scholarly attention, with a couple of notable exceptions. Initially I had no idea at all what the significance of the idea of limit might be, and no idea where pursuing it would take me. Or that it would lead to a book it would take me four years to write, and which would reframe my understanding of human intellectual history in the process.

Unwritten Doctrine, Ancient Silence. It is often assumed by students of antiquity that there is no special importance to be attached to remarks that certain items of information are to be kept secret and not imparted to the unworthy, and to the ordinary mortal. This assumption is based on the presumption that there was, and is not, anything about which it is impossible to speak of, before those not used to dealing with information about religion and the divine. This is a curiosity of modern times, in that the ignorance of theology among the moderns makes it impossible for them to credit the importance of theology in antiquity - both to those who understood its subtleties and and those who didn’t.

Ancient Conjectures, and Fictive Intellectual History. Plato argues that we should always look to the ‘one true thing’. J.G. Frazer also argued that questions concerning Being (‘the one true thing’) were entirely barren, since nothing could be predicated of Being. This of course is a spectacular instance of intellectual blindness, by which the richness of the intellectual matrix of ancient Greek thought was spirited into nothingness. In antiquity, nods were made toward the notion that the discipline of philosophy might not have been first developed in Greece, including (tellingly) at the beginning of Diogenes Laertius' Lives of the Philosophers. Plato after all argued against the idea that philosophy was invented by the Greeks in the Protagoras, saying that it was of a great age – perhaps contemporary with the arrival of peoples from Egypt, who settled in the Peloponnese, and also in Crete.

What is Sacred, and what is Profane? Each of the divine names of Marduk, the head of the Mesopotamian pantheon, has a description, and each of the lesser gods can be understood as abstractions of aspects of the rational creation. They represent excellences in the world. Marduk represents the sum total of these. This is the clue to understanding much of the ancient understanding of what the divine is. Each described excellence resembles reality itself in terms of its properties. The excellence may serve social functions, as does a skill or specialism, but it should be performed for its own sake. The performance of these excellences recalls the perfection and completeness of the plenum, and reinforces the presence of the divine in the world. 

Intentionality, Conjecture, and What is Holy. Intentionality explains why the ancients created a multiplicity of gods. If the divine itself cannot by definition be completely defined and understood, at least certain properties and attributes can be understood. These can therefore be defined and named as ways of accessing the divine. This does not at all conflict with the idea that the reality of the divine is in question. Instead this view argues that there is in fact a subjective component in the reality of the divine, at least insofar as it is possible for us to have commerce with it.

Excellence and the Knowledge of Divine Things. Plutarch opens his life of Alexander with a cheerful complaint about the sheer extent of the materials available to him to write on Alexander. So the details which are in his essay are there because he regarded them as important in showing Alexander’s character, his disposition, and the content of his mind. On the basis of his sources he says that it is thought that Alexander was taught by Aristotle not only his doctrines of Morals and Politics, but also those more abstruse mysteries which are only communicated orally and are kept concealed from the vulgar: for after he had invaded Asia, hearing that Aristotle had published some treatises on these subjects, he wrote him a letter in which he defended the practice of keeping these speculations secret.

Egypt in the Shadows. Since the European enlightenment, the influence of Egypt on the development of abstract and philosophical thought has been deprecated. Yet, as Martin Bernal showed in the third volume of Black Athena, many Greek words have plausible etymologies from Egyptian. It is also the case that several of the concepts used by Aristotle in his philosophical writing were known to Egyptians nine hundred years before his time, such as the idea of completion (it is connected with the idea of birth in Akhenaten’s Hymn to the Aten, which dates to the fourteenth century BCE). There is also abundant evidence for the existence of philosophical thought among the Hebrews in the books of the Old Testament. Yahweh is described as ‘the first and last, and beside me there is no God’. His name (minus the vowels) is a variant of the verb ‘to be’, which suggests that his isolation is due to the fact that he was understood to be Being itself.

Polytheism, Monotheism, and the Cult of the Aten. The Aten is first mentioned (to our knowledge) in the Story of Sinuhe, which dates at least as far back as the twelfth dynasty, where the dead king is described as uniting with with the sun-disk in the heavens. Akhenaten’s iconography never shows the god in anthropomorphic form – instead the Aten is always shown as the sun disk with rays of light extending from it, with hands at the end of each ray. The Sun god was considered to be neither male nor female, but both simultaneously, an idea which was reflected in the depiction of Akhenaten in sculpture and reliefs. His full title however was ‘The Ra-Horus who rejoices in the horizon, in his/her Name of the Light which is seen in the sun disk’. We find this full rendering of the Aten’s name on the stelae placed around Akhetaten, which was Akhenaten’s newly founded capital. Sometimes the full name was shortened to Ra-Horus-Aten, or just ‘Aten’. Since two of the names of Akhenaten’s god refer to the sun (Ra being an older name for the sun god), it seems that some kind of intellectual synthesis of older ideas had taken place.

Cultural Continuity in the Ancient World, and Bernal’s Black Athena. Martin Bernal’s intention was to take ancient Greece out of its exalted orbit above all other civilizations, and root it in what he assumed to have been a cultural continuum around the Mediterranean sea from at least the mid-2nd millennium B.C.E up until the classical period of Greece in the 5th and 4th centuries B.C.E. Bernal pointed to the evidence within the texts of the 1st millennium which suggested cultural continuities with ancient Egypt – all dismissed by the classicists in favour of evidence in texts which could be interpreted as suggesting the opposite. Bernal’s attempts to establish cultural continuity with the civilizations around the Mediterranean were hampered by the fact that myths are not simply encodings of historical and political change, and that the exchange of words between linguistic groups is, by itself, weak evidence for cultural continuity. He was correct to guess at the existence of the cultural continuity, I think, but ill-equipped to establish such a thing. To do this requires moving things around – particularly re-anchoring the relationship of Greek philosophy to patterns of religious belief and cult practice; and the establishing of the relationship between Greek patterns of religious belief and cult practice to parallel ideas and behaviour in the Near East and in Egypt.

The Tangled Thread: Universals in History. The liturgies and the description of ancient rituals have been published and translated, and their signifcance and meaning have been discussed by scholars. But they make difficult reading for the reason that they involve a different set of preconceptions from those understood by Mesopotamian scholars. It is hard to break through to an understanding of what was understood to be going on. The Mesopotamians employed ideas which they considered to be universally valid, such as all wisdom being present in the Abzu, and that the acquisition of knowledge depended on some kind of ritual engagement with Ea and the Abzu. And that the good order of the world depended on man's relation to the world of the divine. Since the European Enlightenment however, we have adopted another set of universal notions, which do not depend at all on the reality of the divine and the gods. In fact it pushes such notions into the shadowlands of unreason. So there is little inclination among scholars who specialise in Mesopotamia to spend time trying to makes sense of things which they regard as intrinsically unreasonable.

The Age of the Lord Buddha. Scholars acquiesce in the convention that an articulate and technical understanding of the idea of Being was first broached by the Greeks in the middle of the 1st Millennium BCE. It follows therefore that all references to the divine in the ancient near east before that date are not articulate and technical references, but notional and inchoate. The consequence must be that we can learn nothing useful about ancient intellectual processes and concerns from these notions, since they are beliefs entirely unsupported by rational argument. This would come as a surprise to many ancient cultures, if they were still around. The date of the Buddha's floruit for western scholars is much closer to our own time than it is for scholars in the east. We place him around the 5th century BCE, since there is clearly an interest in universals in the texts. The Puranas provide a chronology of the Magadha rulers from the supposed time of the Mahabharata war, and Buddha is supposed to have become enlightened during the reign of Bimbisara, the 5th Shishunaga ruler, who, according to this chronology, ruled between 1852-1814 BCE. His birth date may have been 1887 BCE. Chinese scholarship has long maintained that Buddhism came to China from India around 1200-1100BCE.

Stone Circles, Phenomenology, and the Neolithic Mind. The evidence from the megaliths makes the importance of the sky very clear: in Britain and around the megalithic world, the sky was seen as a representation of divinity, of Being. As an image of the divine, it was an image of totality itself. The megalithic observatory, or temple, according to this hypothesis, was a device to embody aspects of divinity, of Being, actually in its structure, in the same way in which the gods in Mesopotamia might be invited to occupy their representations on earth.

Available from my distributor Smashwords, and various retailers, including Itunes, Barnes and Noble, Blio, Inktera, etc, and a number of library distributors.

56,320 words. Published by The Anshar Press, Aug. 12, 2018. https://shrineinthesea.blogspot.com/p/man-and-divine-2018.html





Echoes of Eternity (2020)


My new book, will be available in May 2020 (rescheduled). The final word count will be around 56 thousand words. Two of the chapters - 'The Greek Ontological Model in the 1st Millennium B.C.E', and 'Patterns of thought in Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain', are quite large pieces of work (6k and 10k words respectively).

Much of the cultural production of the ancient world, east and west, was based on the idea of reflecting aspects of the divine in human life and thought. Many social structures and institutions were based on this approach. The model for these things was was astronomy and the heavens, and the heavens were conceived of as a moving image of eternity, and eternity was understood to be coterminous with the Divine. Since it moved, it contained life and thought, and repaid the attention of man. We still live, work and think inside what is a scarcely changed neolithic temple, which is the sky.

The chapter list:

Introduction: The Interpretation of Ancient History

Part One

Camera Obscura: Marx, Aristotle & Ptolemy
Synoikismos and the Origins of the Polis
Proskynesis, and the Deification of Alexander


Part Two

The Greek Ontological Model in the 1st Millennium B.C.E.
Greece and the cultural Impact of the Assyrian Empire
The Threshold in Ancient Assyria
Symmetry and Asymmetry in the Iconography of the Ancient Near East

Part Three

Being and Eternity in the Neolithic
Patterns of thought in Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age Britain
The Mathematical Origins of the Megalithic Yard
What We Have Lost, and How the Ancient Concept of the Cosmos Died
Marx and Historicism

Visit my profile page at Smashwords and scroll down for the books.


Updated May 28,  September 6, October 1, December 11, 2019, and May 2, 2020.




[The Death of Pan replaces 'The Origins of Transcendentalism in Ancient Religion', (forthcoming).]

This is a short book about a very large subject – the transcendentalism which is present in ancient religions, located to the west of India. 

Normally it is assumed that there is very little in the way of transcendentalist thought associated with these ancient religions, and that the evidence we are looking at is mainly built out of concrete imagery, fanciful myth, poetry, irrational associations, all of which are in the service of religion and the state. In other words, religion serves a series of social and ideological functions, and it is to those functions that we should look for the explanation of the cultural remains, rather than the minds of the ancients themselves.

Is this actually so? Or are we the victims of an enlightenment agenda which sought to remake the history of religion and religious thought in terms of a profound irrationality?

That is one of the arguments of this book – that we have been sold short by enlightenment presumptions and certainties, and that what we think we know and understand about ancient religion is so far from its real basis that, for the most part, it is nearly impossible for modern scholars to make intelligible sense of it.

This book is short, not because the questions it addresses are simple, and have easy answers. It is short because I have written five other books before this one, and, to a significant extent, it references argument and discussion which can be found in those books. It was not possible to write a short and credible introduction to an understanding of the transcendentalism which can be found in ancient religions, without first covering an enormous amount of ground.

Scholars must decide for themselves if the argument of this book is soundly based.  The problem for scholars  is that they live and work within what Michel Foucault called an ‘episteme’. This is a model of reality dependent on many presumptions. Not only does the episteme shape discussion, it controls what can actually be discussed, or even be seen by those within it.

Preface

An Appetite for Knowledge
The Death of Pan
On Ancient Religion
Parallels and Discontinuity between Contemporary and Ancient Religions
The definition of Transcendentalism in Religion
The Origin of the Transcendentalist Perspective 
The Nature of Reality 
Contradiction and Paradox 
Transcendence and Immanence 
Detecting the Presence of Transcendentalist Thought 
The Future of our Understanding of the Past

Appendices:

The Obsolescence of Oracles (Plutarch).
Who Will Appear Before the City?
Wearable Fictions, Phenomenology, and the Grammar of Human Thought 
Notes

*Update, May 22, 2020:

Sometimes a book changes during the process of research and writing. The writer of anything is in a dialogue with both his materials and his thoughts. That is what has happened with this book. It will contain the discussions outlined above, but it will be significantly different, since it will also discuss a famous essay from late antiquity (The Obsolescence of Oracles), which illuminates the underlying argument of the book, and shows that there was a consciousness present in the second century C.E., that ways of thinking about the Divine were changing, and that the older modes of thought were about to be largely lost.

The author of this essay understood that the patterns of thought of the ancient world would no longer be accessible to those who came afterwards. Rational discussion of these patterns of thought would disappear, and would be replaced by an entirely ersatz mode of discussion, and shape almost everything which could be thought or said afterwards. With almost none of it making any kind of sense.

The title of the book will be different, reflecting the changes to the book's contents. There will be a new page for this shortly. TY

Update: Jun 6, 2020

The book title is now 'The Death of Pan'. We commonly imagine that what we regard as modern rational thought emerged from an intellectual world that was not rational at all. But ancient civilizations regarded themselves as rational. What actually happened is that one form of rational thought experienced a long and slow collapse, and began to be replaced by another (also a slow process). We have imposed this notion of a progressive development of rational ways of thinking onto our intellectual history, despite the fact that the evidence we have available to us tells another story altogether.

Updated June 6, 2020