TheGentleLaw Community
Douglas Bates wrote a book, Pyrrho’s Way, and I read it. Perhaps I should not say that I read it. Perhaps I should say that certain words arranged themselves in front of my eyes, and my mind reacted. What followed—liking, disliking, agreeing, disagreeing—must remain in suspension, for obvious reasons.
Now, should I review a book about Pyrrho? Surely not. One must remain consistent: judgment must remain suspended. Or perhaps one should not even say that. Perhaps one should not say anything at all.
Let us assume for a moment that one may utter some sort of judgment. I enjoyed this book. The exploration of Pyrrhonian skepticism presents fresh insights, offering both historical perspective and practical application. However, a curious tone pervades the pages. One wonders: does one reject dogmatism only to install a different kind of certainty? Does one suspend judgment with a clenched fist?
Another question: can one become a Pyrrhonist the way one becomes a Buddhist, Christian, or Muslim? Or do we just self-assign a sticker on our jumper saying "Pyrrho follower"? A title, a way of life, or a joke on certainty itself?
Then, the discussion of Buddhism appears—except, does it? Pyrrho’s Ways leans heavily on Zen, a tradition that many associate with Buddhism but that one may, with some justification, consider something else entirely. The Buddha taught dependent origination, karma, and liberation. Zen often dances past these, speaking in paradox and silence. So, does this book reference Buddhism, or does it reference a later invention bearing the name? If Buddhism ceased when Gautama ceased, what then do we call all that followed? The text does not ask this question, but perhaps it should.
I particularly enjoyed Chapter 34, which discusses beliefs and appearances. This part resonated—what do we trust, and what remains uncertain? A good question, or perhaps an unanswerable one.
Then, the final section (Book 6). Clarity—an expectation, an illusion? One cannot say that this part of the book expresses itself clearly. One cannot say the opposite either. Perhaps Bates left this part deliberately vague, as a final test for the reader. Or perhaps clarity itself fell into suspension.
As a linguist, I noticed some passages where the text examines grammatical and verbal elements in a language, not always with complete accuracy. But who cares? This book does not claim expertise in linguistics. I still enjoyed reading it.
One idea in this book struck me deeply: the proposal to avoid using to be as a verb. Accepting this challenge, I have not used to be throughout this text. Or have I? Perhaps I have failed. Perhaps I have succeeded. Perhaps neither. Perhaps both. Who knows?
I am not sure how to be a Pyrrhonist in modern times because, from this book, it seems Pyrrhonists simply live as ordinary people, following customs and laws within their geographical culture, suspending judgment. Does not it seem too easy?