Only the merest wisps of evidence remain for the thoughts of Pyrrho, the founder of ancient Greek skepticism and, perhaps, the bringer of Buddhism to Greece. Like Socrates, Pyrrho wrote nothing. His disciple Timon of Phlius did some writing, but almost all of it is lost. The primary text that has survived from antiquity is a brief passage in the Preparation for the Gospel by the Christian polemicist Eusebius of Caesarea (4th century AD), who quotes from Book VIII of On Philosophy by the Peripatetic philosopher Aristocles of Messene (1st century AD), who in turn cites but doesn't seem to precisely quote Timon. That's not much to go on!
According to Aristocles by way of Eusebius, Timon said Pyrrho held that "πράγματα are equally ἀδιάφορα, ἀστάθμητα, and ἀνεπίκριτα" (from which certain interesting behavioral recommendations follow, such as cultivating a lack of opinions about the πράγματα). Some scholars, such as Christopher Beckwith, try to puzzle out the meaning of these terms by looking to early Buddhism. That can be enlightening, but another worthwhile approach is to ponder these terms in the context of earlier Greek philosophy, literature, and theology. Having just re-read the Iliad for the second time this year and also having just read Homer on the Gods and Human Virtue by Peter J. Ahrensdorf, I think I've identified a connection worth pursuing.
Through close study of the Iliad and the Odyssey, Ahrensdorf observes that the Greek gods (Zeus, Hera, and the rest) are "unpredictable, whimsical, and capricious beings" (p. 57) who are "mysterious" (p. 246), "unreliable" (p. 59), and "fundamentally indifferent" (p. 59) to the fates of human beings. Taking our cue from the fact that one meaning of πράγματα is "fortunes" or "circumstances", we can see that from a theological perspective the gods are indifferent (ἀδιάφορα), unreliable (ἀστάθμητα), and inscrutable (ἀνεπίκριτα) regarding the fates and fortunes of human beings. If we take the gods to be personifications of natural processes and events, then it stands to reason that a Greek thinker deeply steeped in Homer might draw conclusions about human affairs that appear similar to early Buddhism. For example, Beckwith argues that ἀδιάφορα is equivalent to Buddhist anātman, ἀστάθμητα to Buddhist dukkha, and ἀνεπίκριτα to Buddhist anitya. While he might be right, we don't necessarily need the Buddhist angle to make sense of ancient reports about Pyrrho's stance toward things human and divine. Indeed, the two lines of argument might corroborate and reinforce each other, or even reflect an underlying insight common across several Indo-European cultures. As I work on research and writing of an epic poem about Pyrrho, I'll continue to reflect on these matters and provide further reports on what I learn.
(Cross-posted at philosopher.coach.)
FOR FURTHER EXPLORATION