Why did Diogenes live in a barrel?

The secret of happiness from Diogenes…

Diogenes, also known as Diogenes the Cynic or Diogenes of Sinope, was a Greek philosopher and one of the founders of Cynicism. He was a figure who wandered the streets of Athens, often carrying a lantern, and famously responded to inquiries about his quest with the words, “I am looking for an honest man.” There is an anecdote that might sound familiar. When confronted by the formidable Emperor of Macedonia, Alexander the Great, Diogenes was found lying in the sun. As Alexander leaned over him to ask what he wanted, Diogenes replied, “Stand a little out of my light.”

Why do we exist?

The questions that Diogenes and his fellow adherents sought to address surprisingly resonate with those we grapple with today. If you browse through the shelves of the personal development section in any bookstore and pick out a book at random, you’ll likely encounter a few recurring themes. Essentially, we’re all wrestling with the same inquiries; these questions permeate social media and populate the pages of self-help books, all in pursuit of answers to age-old quandaries.

• Why do we exist?
• How can we attain happiness?
• Is pleasure tantamount to happiness, or does it impede its attainment?

The fact that these fundamental questions have endured for approximately 2500 years highlights the timeless nature of our existential quest. While the circumstances of our lives, and the challenges we face may change, the fundamental inquiries and concerns remain constant. Post-Socratic schools delved into the nature and pursuit of happiness, in contrast to Socrates’ focus on humanity over the cosmos. Yet, they diverged from his approach. Socrates’ alignment of knowledge, virtue, and happiness established a theoretical foundation for the pursuit of happiness. So, it seems that merely possessing theoretical knowledge would lead to happier and more meaningful lives.

However, figures like Diogenes, along with others who came after Socrates, viewed this as a purely theoretical approach, stressing that knowledge and happiness are not synonymous. They advocated for reducing happiness to practical living. When you contemplate this, is “knowing” truly sufficient for happiness? I doubt it. This critique holds considerable weight and is a perspective I can readily endorse. Hence, there’s now a shift towards transforming theoretical knowledge into a practical art of living. This prompts us to ask: How can we implement changes in our everyday lives to gain a better understanding of Diogenes’ philosophy, and ultimately, structure our lives to achieve greater happiness? If someone were to pose this question to me, I could promptly highlight three factors. I believe regular sleep, balanced nutrition, and physical exercise are key contributors to individual happiness. This viewpoint is grounded in science; the mind and body aren’t separate entities but intricately linked. Mental contentment often hinges on physical well-being. Thus, achieving physical and mental harmony is paramount.

While Diogenes may not explicitly endorse this, it remains a valid perspective. Let’s delve deeper. It’s likely that when exploring what brings us joy or sorrow, these basic elements emerge as primary contributors, among others.

When engaging in philosophical discourse, it’s crucial to articulate and clarify our concepts, shedding light on the semantics behind the terms we employ. So, what exactly is happiness?

How can we attain happiness?

According to the dictionary, happiness is the sensation of contentment derived from fulfilling a desired objective. “Fulfilling a desired objective.” This implies a longing, a directedness towards it, and a sense of contentment and satisfaction upon its achievement. In this context, happiness invariably entails a pursuit. However, once that pursuit culminates, happiness morphs into a tangible emotion we can possess. But is it truly so?

Reflecting on the happiest moments of my life… There isn’t a dedicated journal for these instances, unfortunately. I wish there were, or that I could effortlessly recall them, but I believe I can readily summon a few moments. One of them, years ago — I can’t pinpoint exactly when — occurred during winter. I was at my parents’ house, nestled in my own room. Lying on my bed, enveloped by a blanket, I could hear the faint murmur of my parents’ conversation, their laughter intermingling with jest. That moment, hearing their laughter, ensconced in the comfort of my bed, evoked profound serenity, happiness, and a profound sense of love within me. And indeed, I thought to myself, “Yes, I am happy.”

Another moment, in 2016, while vacationing in Izmir with my closest girlfriends, stands out. We were releasing sky lanterns at sunset. There was a particular instant where we exchanged glances, smiles dancing laughter echoing in unison. Knowing that a month later, I would embark on a monumental journey to Berlin, filled me with immense happiness in that moment. I can vividly recall it. Because thereafter, true happiness eluded me for an extended period.

As I pondered these two moments, I came to a realization that I had intuitively understood but had not yet articulated. It struck me that the occasions when I feel happiness are often intertwined with feelings of love or freedom. I find happiness when I love and am loved in return, and when I experience a profound sense of freedom. None of these experiences seem to stem from mere pleasure or the acquisition of material possessions. In this context, if we revisit the definition provided by the dictionary, which defines happiness as the feeling of satisfaction derived from obtaining something desired, well, then my desire does not revolve around possessing any object, but rather centers on being loved or yearning for freedom and independence.

Let’s momentarily digress to delve into the insights of another philosopher who sheds light on the concept of desire: Spinoza. Spinoza posits that desire serves as the essence of existence. What does this entail? He suggests that desire represents an inclination towards the preservation of one’s being, a constant striving to exist. From this perspective, we’re discussing a purer form of desire. Spinoza terms this essence “conatus,” encapsulating an individual’s relentless effort to affirm their own existence.

“Pleasure, Enslaves People”

Now, returning to Diogenes and the school of cynicism to which he belonged, they critiqued the notion of pleasure, which, contrary to Spinoza’s perspective, wasn’t merely seen as a desire. They argue that pleasure enslaves people, and therefore, it must be resisted.

Consequently, the Cynics strive to emancipate themselves from all dependencies, distancing themselves from worldly comforts. When they advocate for abstaining from such comforts, it’s not merely about renouncing luxuries like expensive shoes, fashionable attire, or property acquisition. They endeavor to liberate themselves even from the most basic necessities of practical life. Allow me to illustrate this with an anecdote.

One day, Diogenes went to a fountain to drink water and noticed a child cupping his hands directly under the fountain to drink. Upon witnessing this, Diogenes exclaimed, “This child has surpassed even me in living with fewer possessions,” and he discarded his cup.

So, we’re discussing freeing oneself even from a simple cup. The Cynics aspire to return to a state of complete freedom by relinquishing all material possessions required for sustenance. But their rejection of societal norms doesn’t end there. They take it a step further. For them, love is also perceived as an impediment to freedom. They disdain all things human, including family, children, country, nation, society, and culture — essentially anything one can think of. Their aim is to attain a state of indifference to both pain and pleasure.

Living Like a Dog

No circumstance should sway their emotions. They strive to maintain a purely neutral stance, reaching a level where they even scorn science. Consequently, by rejecting all social and cultural norms and diminishing human values, they conclude that reverting to a primitive, animalistic existence would represent true freedom, and they genuinely live as animals. Each proponent of this school lives in conditions and adopts lifestyles reminiscent of living like a dog, a fact further confirmed by historical anecdotes.

When Alexander the Great encountered Diogenes and introduced himself as “I am Alexander the Great, King of Macedonia,” Diogenes retorted, “I am Diogenes the dog.” Thus, referring to them as “dog philosophers” or “dog-like philosophers” is not a form of derogation from our side. It’s a term that has already been embraced by these philosophers, serving as a descriptor. So, does the freedom we speak of only arise from living like an animal? Does renouncing all human values such as country, nation, marriage, family ties, and love lead to individual happiness?

Even when uttering the sentence, it feels tinged with irony — can we truly become more humane and happier by rejecting human values? I’m uncertain; that’s not a perspective I find readily acceptable. The teachings of Cynicism, to a certain extent, advocate for liberation from the trappings of the material world, as we’ve discussed earlier. But embracing the notion that this equates to freedom is exceedingly challenging for me. Diogenes leads such a marginal, contrarian life that it borders on the absurd. He alternates between licking the hand that feeds him and biting it out of a desire to harm himself. He publicly urinates in the streets or satisfies his sexual urges in plain sight.

On one hand, there’s Cynicism, a school that staunchly opposes hedonism, advocating for a lifestyle reminiscent of that of a dog. On the other hand, we have the Hedonists — pleasure-seekers, representing two schools that emerged in stark contrast to each other. When we consider Socrates, the Cynics, and the Hedonists, each occupying distinct positions, these balanced, amalgamated teachings converge into what I perceive to be a proper doctrine we can embrace: Stoicism.