“Skepticism, while logically impeccable, is psychologically impossible”
Bertrand Russell
Historically, Skepticism as a school of thought derives from Ancient Greece, and was a hallmark of the Sophist Schools. Throughout the study of Sophistry – the study of inquiry divorced from truth – one clear thread can be seen: the self-serving subjectivism which marks the Sophist’s conduct and “ethics.” Such subjectivity is highlighted further in examining the thought of Pyrrho, perhaps the earliest and most well-known expositor of absolute skepticism. Pyrrhonian, or absolute skepticism, espouses the notion that true knowledge is impossible, and tranquility can be found only in the suspension of judgment.
The implications of such cynical thought have been illustrated by great minds in the West from St. Augustine of Hippo to Pope Leo XIII. However, the present case against skepticism differs slightly, drawing not from the profound philosopher, nor the holy pope, but rather from a controversial figure of the 20th century: Bertrand Russell. Mr. Russell presents an unorthodox yet compelling opponent to radical skepticism, in part because of the contradiction of his own life. While publicly arguing against skepticism, privately, he was a skeptic in all spiritual matters, a position he articulated in his earliest philosophical work.
To begin, pure skepticism is opposed to objective truth; this principle is its primary underlying error. However, this Pyrrhonian thinking does more – it undermines any proper conception of authority. Here, we will borrow from Kuyper’s conceptualization of authority, and posit that it is delegated to three main spheres: State, Family and Church.
Considering first the state, an obvious end result of skepticism would be harm to the security of any nation with a population of skeptics. Russell acknowledges this, observing “The skeptic’s creed, we must admit, is paralyzing, and a nation which accepts it is doomed to defeat.”
The family, too – “the fundamental unit of society” – a necessarily hierarchical structure predicated on the recognition and acceptance of authority, is both weakened and marginalized by skeptical thought.
However, the most blatant instance is that of the church, which is an institutional nemesis to any serious skeptic. This is not merely because the church teaches that certain propositions can be known with certainty, but also because, as Fulton Sheen observed, “Skepticism is not inherently an intellectual position; rather, it is a moral position.”
Skepticism makes impossible any truly coherent form of objective morality, a feature which makes it an attractive philosophy to the many hedonists of the modern era. Morality, however, isn’t the only concept made incoherent by skepticism. As Russell again rightly points out, even “names and language are justified by merely private claims.” For an absolute skeptic, even basic interpersonal communication would remain beyond reach.
In response to these arguments, one might respond that while absolute skepticism is admittedly unworkable, a variant more akin to that of the Stoic School should be adopted. In this school of thought, objectivity is not ruled out, but rigorously tested before acceptance. Here, it seems that there is an element of truth. After all, absolute skepticism is wrong because it takes something that should be a means, and elevates it to an end.
Regaining the view of skepticism as a means of discerning the truth, rather than a state of mind to pursue, is the biggest step one can take away from Pyrrhonism towards coherent thought. All that remains is for this skepticism to be rightly ordered in the mind of the individual. It ought to be a means proportionate to the ends — in this case, the pursuit of truth. However, even in this reconception of pursuing truth, there can be extremes, both of credulity, and, perhaps more dangerously, incredulity.
In The Gospel of St. John, after interrogating Jesus in the governing hall, Pontius Pilate concludes his questioning with the phrase, “What is truth?” Pilate, a Roman procurator, was an educated man who likely was trained to question all and accept little. In his gloss on this portion of the Gospel, Fulton Sheen states,
“If therefore, the impulse toward truth was in Pilate, he would know that truth itself stood before him; if it was not in him, he would sentence Christ to death [as he did.]”
Sheen’s choice of words is important, for it shows that an excess of skepticism can and will have numbing effects upon both mind and soul. An example of this appears in the life of Pyrrho, as related by Diogenes. Passing by a drowning man – Anaxarchus, a close friend of his – Pyrrho was so unmoved that he simply walked on. A similar desensitizing effect is also seen later in St. John’s Gospel when Pilate goes on to deliver Jesus to be crucified, despite finding “no cause in the man.”
Sheen concludes, based on this passage, that the state of ambivalence toward truth induced by excessive skepticism does not remain forever. Just as skepticism becomes absolute, so does dislike, even hatred for such claims, and eventually, objective reality. As Sheen goes on to say, the end result of skepticism, “indifference to right and wrong, eventually ends in hatred for what is right.”
Sheen’s final formulation provides a fitting coda to the opening phrase of Bertrand Russell — confirming that while one can logically convince oneself of absolute skepticism, one cannot possibly bear its effects for long.
Skepticism, divorced from its proper end, is a path that does not clarify the truth, but rather leads one farther away from the truly objective: the good, the true, and the beautiful.
