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.

 

Acting Authentically—Part 2

Thus, for the ancients, astrology spoke about purpose, potential, and self-actualization. It was not—as some people today believe (people who read astrology columns in the media)—about predicting the future, but to be able to describe oneself. In the past it was often a literal form of religion. It was a way to seek certainty—and in today's very uncertain world, it once again offers assurance to some people.

  

Yet many other people today—despite those doubts and dilemmas of our world—regard astrology as not being able to give us the certainty and authenticity we seek. The positions of the planets really have nothing to do with who we are. They are a leftover vestige of our belief that the Earth is at the center of the universe and that the stars and planets which we once believed revolved around us were compelled to send us personal messages that revealed our true selves. In the end, however, astrology can be neither proven nor disproven, because it is a belief—not something that can be tested.

So, if not by astrology, how might we find our authentic self? There are two contrasting ways of seeking authenticity; taking (1) the essentialist path or (2) the existentialist path. Essentialism tells us that we have a destiny to follow; an innate nature that we need to discover—whether that is done through astrology, psychoanalysis, or some other technique. Essentialism tells me that I have a unique and specific character; I have an identity that is essentially me. My job is to discover that true identity and then behave accordingly. I must answer the call of who I am. Otherwise I'm a phony; I'm inauthentic. I'm missing my true calling. So I put effort into discovering that authentic essential self. It's similar to Freud's concept of the unconscious id: I peel the external layers of my masks off, to get at the heart of my true personality, and then answer its call.

The path of existentialism follows a very different route. It suggests that we may instead seek to make our actions congruent with our beliefs and desires—rather than adhere to a core personality. In this manner, existentialism resembles Chinese philosophy, which denies that there is a single authentic self. Rather than seeking to behave as our essential self, our behavior can be attuned to our experiences. We can shape ourselves as we see fit. We can literally create our path as we walk it—and not be limited by a belief in the concept of an immutable, innate self.

Existentialism tells us that we can become all that we can become—without limit. We are not born with an innate nature that we must discover and then adhere to. We have no inner essence to find and then to follow. Rather, we determine our own character and destiny. In fact, any core self we have is not necessarily unique to our essential, singular self, but is universal. All humans share it. Rather than adhere to some notion of our intrinsic self, we have the freedom to choose and become what we want or need to be.

The scary part of existentialism is that we must abandon the path of certainty. We must turn from the essential and certain path of our innate self, wherein we try to follow a prescribed set of behaviors. We instead embark on uncertainty. This route can be filled with anxiety. It can be scary. On this path we are choosing to create ourself as we go along—maybe even shred or shed our old, rigid sense of self. It can be a fearful and very uncomfortable path—but the reward can be discovering an authentic self that has no limit.

Acting Authentically—Part 1

A common goal that most everyone wants to achieve is to act as their authentic self. We all want to be real. We want to behave in the manner of our true self—rather than be confused or inordinately influenced by outside forces; both of which may cause us to commit acts that are foreign to our identity.

Unfortunately, delusion can cause us to have a distorted view of ourselves and thus behave contrary to our nature—which can cause much pain and unhappiness. A deluded person cannot even know what authenticity means.

Thus we all tend to have a strong drive to discover our true self. As the oracle in ancient Greece advised, “Know thyself.” But maybe there's another message here for today's society: “Not only know thyself, but be thyself.” This is sometimes also called authenticity. It can be described as the degree to which one's actions are in harmony with their beliefs and desires—when their true identity comes out. So how do we legitimately exist in a world that applies forces to us that may be alien to our real sense of self or delude us? How do we find that identity?

These questions fit quite well with what many of us have also come to view as the search for certainty. In a culture that batters us about with conflicting messages of how we might come to know ourself, we wonder, what is authenticity? How do we come to arrive at those answers that make us comfortable that we’ve found ourself? We naturally seek answers to these questions—to be able to arrive at some comforting place where we can relax. It’s preferable for many of us… rather than stay on the path of continually searching and facing doubt.

Thus we seek some kind of authenticity, in order to be true to ourself. We ask: How can I know myself? Who am I? Is my identity the same as my self? And what is identity? The dictionary tells me that identity is “a sense of sameness that persists across time and space.” It literally brings the “I” into existence. It can be also seen as the formation of some kind of story about myself, that describes who I am. But is that story fiction or truth?

One way that many people today are responding to this conundrum is to turn to astrology, which is currently enjoying a broad cultural popularity, not seen for a generation or more. A recent article in New Yorker magazine (“Starstruck”) claims that nearly one-third of Americans today believe in astrology. This trend seems to be fueled by a decline in religion, accompanied with a rise in economic precariousness. We in the US live in a time of political uncertainty—if not panic—that causes many people to search for something to believe in… either in themselves or in society.

The core concept of astrology is that a person's authentic nature corresponds to the planetary pattern at their moment of birth, as well as the subsequent changes and alignments of the planets and stars. Astrology has ancient roots, when the actual causes of the movements of heavenly bodies were not understood. It has its origins in ancient Egypt, Greece, Mesopotamia, Rome, and Islam. Its earliest intent had important messages about when to plant crops, for example, or whether to go to war. It was intermixed with primitive astronomy—for which the ancients became very adept at monitoring and predicting the cycles of the heavens.

More authenticity next time…