Daemon Directions

The word “daemon” has a fascinating history. Its origin is in ancient Greek civilization, where it defined a divine and/or supernatural being, who resided in a realm somewhere between humans and the gods. A daemon was often consulted, with the expectation it would provide guidance that would steer one's actions in an appropriate direction. It became perceived as an inner spirit or voice that could be regarded roughly as similar to one's conscience.

A prominent citizen of ancient Greece who claimed that his behavior was influenced by his inner daemon was Socrates (5^th century BCE). His daemon, however, was unique, in that it only spoke to him by warning him what not to do. In this sense, his daemon was strictly a negative teacher, since it never told him what to do.

Socrates claimed that this inner voice had been crucial to his perceptions and behavior, because it steered him away from making mistakes, but left open what he should do in a given situation. That choice was up to him. Thus, he was free to do what appeared to him to be positive action. For example, in a given situation, he might have several options to select. Which one is wisest to choose? Since his daemon steered him away from unwise behavior, it left him open to various potentially wise choices—but they would be his, not some godlike choice. Socrates felt that this “negative” daemon gave him the freedom to pursue wisdom on his own, and thus to benefit and grow from the process.

I find this possibility very promising, because I believe at any moment we each have an abundance of alternative actions we may choose from. In each case we select one, hoping it is a good choice, but we rarely have the opportunity to pause and consider what other options we might have had and what might have transpired, if we'd selected a different one. We just move on. If, however, I had the confidence that some inner voice had urged me to avoid stupid or harmful choices, I could move forward with some confidence that the choice I did make was at least not foolish. Thus, I’d be much freer to explore more positive alternatives… on my own. Thus, I can learn and grow on my own. 

A basic concept of existentialism is that each of us is a free and responsible agent, and that we can determine our own development and growth through acts of our will. If we had Socrates' negative daemon guiding us, we would be given that ability to develop and grow, because we would be making our choices as a free agent, and thus could benefit from what we accomplish on our own. If instead we had an inner voice that commanded us—that always chose for us—we’d be more like an obedient automaton, who just followed orders and rarely had the opportunity to think and grow.

Hannah Arendt's main conclusion from the trial of Adolph Eichmann (who was tried for Nazi war crimes for running a concentration camp that exterminated countless Jews) was that he was not really an evil person—he simply complied with the Holocaust, without pausing to think about what he was doing. He was an unreflective automaton. Thus, non-thinking, she maintained, can lead to one taking immoral actions and can be more harmful than evil.

Socrates' actions, which he claimed were influenced by his daemon, became a threat to the civic order in ancient Athens, since Athenians had constructed a belief system that was cozy and comfortable for most of them. Their society conformed to the established doctrine of the gods controlling and making choices for everyone—punishing them if they disobeyed and rewarding them if they complied. Athenians at that time had a built a society that did not require them to think all that much; just behave and follow orders. Socrates—guided by his daemon—challenged that dogma and exposed it as false. He menaced their belief system. They put him on trial and sentenced him to die.

Socrates was a prophet—not in the sense of predicting future events—but by speaking truth as an inspired teacher; motivated by that inner daemon. Prophets speak truth to power, and since those in power often act untruthfully, prophets are frequently unpopular with rulers. Throughout history prophets have met their demise because they spoke up. Besides Socrates, others who come to mind are Jesus and Martin Luther King, Jr. Many Jewish biblical prophets were either killed or banished.

So I try to cultivate my own daemon—with the objective of having it steer me from stupid choices. To me that means pretty much the same thing as encouraging a moral conscience that warns me away from immoral conduct, while leaving open to me various positive alternatives which I can pause to examine, before selecting one. That scrutinizing process can help me become more aware of the various other possibilities open to me at any given moment; to choose carefully, and take more responsibility for my behavior. The ancient Greek philosophers still have relevance today.

 

Gainsaying Guidance—Part 2

So what is the value of a list of negative instructions? To begin with, it leaves one with room for varying interpretations of a situation, so the guidelines can be adaptable to different situations. The lack of explicitness provides for a flexibility that can change with time and circumstances.

As another way to look at it, at any moment there are a wide variety of actions I could take. Which of these actions would cause me problems in the future and which would be beneficial for me and others? It's often not obvious. If some kind of inner negative guidance helps me avoid doing something stupid, I can dodge a lot of problem behaviors. That's good. Then I can put attention toward the many other (better) alternatives, trusting my daemon to steer me clear of the grief of poor choices. I thus have much more freedom and autonomy.

The numerous (positive) alternative choices can open up a whole new world of possibilities that I might otherwise have never explored. Which are the “right” choices to select? There may be no right choice, but instead a host of good choices, each one resulting in something new and wonderful. With help from my daemon, I've been granted the freedom to pursue any number of creative avenues and avoid dead ends. New worlds open up to me that I could never have imagined—especially if I had been pushed toward just one choice. If I can trust the voice of the daemon to steer me away from stupid choices, I'm free to find alternatives that I might otherwise never have discovered.

Another way to consider this is that the inner daemon can alternatively be considered to be a voice of conscience or prudence. Thus, it can become a voice of moral authority, because it can stop me from doing unethical things. That's exactly how Socrates saw it. As he pondered a certain action, and if the voice was silent, he assumed that the action was moral, was appropriate, or good.

In fact, during his trial before his fellow Athenians, Socrates had several opportunities to acquit himself, but because his daemon remained silent, he did not play it safe, but stuck his neck out, to find it under attack. In the end, he concluded that death was OK, because it is not evil—otherwise his daemon would have advised him to use his considerable persuasive oratorical talents to save himself.

I find inspiration in Socrates' description of how his negative daemon guided him through life. There is no audible inner voice of mine that I have been able to discern, but the concept of some kind of conscience that steers me away from immoral behavior, while leaving me free to choose the many ethical behaviors available, is inspiring. Socrates is a good guide for heading in an ethical direction.

Gainsaying Guidance—Part 1

Socrates has been regarded for some 2500 years as one of the first and foremost Western philosophers. His influence continues to be felt in modern society. He had many lessons about knowledge and reality to teach us. Many of his fellow Athenians flocked to listen to his teachings. Certainly, there were (and still are) detractors who like to point out that some of what he taught was wrong. After all, any philosopher is bound to have other philosophers find fault with their ideas—it's the nature of the profession. And, after all, wasn't Socrates sentenced to death for his teachings? There obviously were some Athenians who had problems with his message.

I don't wish to dive here into the controversy about the validity of Socrates' worthiness or rightness of his teachings. I don't feel qualified to do so, but I do feel that he had some excellent ideas to inspire us moderns. In particular, he had two ideas about his personal life that I have found very useful.

For one, he maintained that, although he had acquired a reputation for having a large amount of knowledge (making him a wise dude in others' eyes), he was keenly aware of how much he didn't know. He was regarded by many of his fellow Athenians as wise, and he repeatedly demonstrated his wisdom, but he never posed as being a sage; he never claimed to be wise. He repeatedly talked about how little he understood, despite having devoted his life to the pursuit of knowledge. I find this attitude far more appealing than those who act foolishly, while insisting that they have all the answers. (This was the source of his conflict with many powerful Athenians.) But this post is about Socrates' second idea... maybe I'll pursue this first one another time.

The second idea or practice of Socrates that speaks to me is his description of an inner voice that spoke to him, as he was about to do something. He called this voice his “daemon,” which he saw as sort of an interior moral teacher; he even saw it as a form of divinity. His daemon always warned him what not to do in a given situation. And here's the crucial point: it was a negative voice, delivering sort of a gainsaying guidance to him. His daemon (in modern times the word has interestingly evolved into the word “demon”) never indicated what he should do, it never gave him advice or direction—it just warned him away from certain problematic activities.

Again, this experience places Socrates at odds with most people—who would prefer to have their inner guidance be positive. They'd like to have their interior voice tell them what to do. It's easier. In fact, many people—when they lack that inner positive (or negative) voice—turn to external advice for their proper behavior. That's what the dogma of political, social, and religious institutions is pretty much about. “Do what I tell you to do, and all will be well.”

Socrates is not the sole proponent of negative guidance, however. Other wisdom traditions have offered similar gainsaying guidance. For example, the Ten Commandments are a prime example of negative mandates: “Thou shalt not...,” and the list goes on.

More on Socrates' negative daemon next time...