In ancient Greece, Antisthenes, a pupil of Socrates, rose to sufficient stardom in philosophical circles that he landed a ‘spin off’ as the founder of his own sect, The Cynics. The Cynics “were marked by an ostentatious contempt for ease, wealth, and the enjoyments of life (The Oxford English Dictionary).” On the extreme side of this sect lived Diogenes, who advanced the idea of poverty as a virtue. He was a mendicant beggar, meaning someone whose vocation was begging. On purpose. As opposed to begging in a given time of desperate need.
Ostentatious contempt: is anyone else struck by the near oxymoronic hypocrisy? The wealthy are mercilessly criticized for showing off their wealth. It turns out that poverty, too, can be “showed off.” The truth is, of course, neither wealth or poverty, pleasure nor pain have any moral weight whatsoever. What matters is how we are each related to work, reward, saving, and spending. What has moral weight is what we suffer for and why. The pain of sacrifice isn’t good just because you’re in pain. Not every indulgence is bad just because it indulges.
That’s the classical origin of the word “cynic.” Here’s the more ‘everyday’ definition: “One who shows a disposition to disbelieve in the sincerity or goodness of human motives and actions, and is wont to express this in sneers and sarcasms.” Yep, an ostentatious contempt. Cynics want everyone to be just as smart – and just as miserable – as they are.
The Skeptics are another philosophical sect of Greek antiquity. A member of this group is one who “doubts the possibility of any real knowledge of any kind; one who holds that there are no adequate grounds for certainty as to the truth of any proposition whatever.” The more ‘everyday’ definition is “one who maintains a doubting attitude with reference to some particular statement, question, or institution.”
Cynicism and skepticism have in common a penchant for masquerading as keen intellect. Some people advance these attitudes as the actual measure of intelligence.
Cynicism, for example, presupposes that everybody will betray you and use you at the first opportunity. Everyone is out for their own gain. Cynicism outsmarts the Bad Guys by anticipating them. Cynicism preempts interpersonal or social injustice by refusing in principle to risk the possibility of sincerely good (if imperfect) people, noble causes, benevolent institutions, authentic holiness, worthy ideals, or meaningful participation in time-honored symbols.
Cynics have special insight that the symbol of marriage is at least unnecessary and likely oppressive. All religious endeavors are, by definition, delusional and childish, sooner or later revealing their true motive which is social control and ultimate violence. There is no authentic charity; every apparent philanthropy is self-serving.
One of my personal favorite cynicisms regards modern pop music. I am convinced that, were Bob Dylan to have been born in 1991 instead of 1941, we would have never heard of him, because The Suits that decide every day what music I’m gonna like next would never have given his homely visage and awful voice sufficient hearing to discover that he was a once-every-century lyrical genius. I never listen to the radio. The only way I hear new music at all is because my children and some select friends occasionally insist I listen to something. Musical cynicism is how I know I’m really smart, extra hip and cool. Ooo.
I’m friendlier to skeptics, because humble, faithful, academic skepticism is a crucial part of critical thinking and therefore learning. But I have no patience with the modern, Skeptic Intelligencia who know they are smart because they are certain there is no such thing as absolute truth. Except for that absolute truth, of course. For skeptics, epistemology is redundant, because they know that we can’t know-that-we-know anything at all. (Uh, make that two absolute truths.)
It is impossible not to pick some handful of truths and live them. Everyone does this, even if the ultimate truth they live out is nihilism and despair. I want a useful academic skepticism in my Learning Toolbox, but the fashionable “Gee whiz, nobody can really know anything therefore all truth is equally valid” is beneath me.
And cynicism does not become me. It makes me small. It’s an ego defense. If I risk my heart in the hope of goodness and authenticity, will my heart be broken and regularly disappointed? Absolutely. But the alternative is actually succeeding in getting to my grave with a never-broken heart and no disappointments.
By my measure, that would mean I had wasted my life.
(Steven Kalas is an author, therapist and Episcopal priest. He may be reached at skalas@marinscope.com.)
