SLIDE 1: Title Slide – “The Philosophy of Pyrrho: Founder of Ancient Scepticism”
Alright, here’s the thing – we’re about to dive into one of the most radical, most misunderstood, and frankly, most relevant philosophies you’ll ever encounter. And I know what you’re thinking: “Ancient Greek philosophy? How is that relevant to my life?”
But hold on.
What if I told you there was a philosopher who looked at all the certainty, all the dogmatism, all the people claiming they had THE TRUTH figured out – and said, “You know what? We don’t know anything. And that’s not a problem. That’s actually the solution.”
That’s Pyrrho. And before you think this is just some ancient guy being difficult for the sake of it, consider this: you live in a world drowning in competing narratives. Social media algorithms feeding you “truth.” News outlets contradicting each other. Experts disagreeing. Your own beliefs challenged daily. Sound familiar?
Pyrrho dealt with the same thing 2,300 years ago. Different context, same human problem. And his answer? It’s not what you expect. It’s not cynicism. It’s not giving up. It’s something far more sophisticated – and far more liberating.
“Exploring the radical wisdom of the man who taught us to embrace uncertainty and find peace in doubt.”
That word – peace. That’s what this is really about. Not just intellectual games. Not just philosophical puzzles. We’re talking about a complete way of life designed to free you from the anxiety of needing to be right all the time.
So let me ask you: How much mental energy do you waste defending your beliefs? How often do you lie awake at night worried you’ve got something wrong? How many relationships have you damaged because you couldn’t let go of being certain?
Pyrrho has something to say about all of that.
SLIDE 2: “Pyrrho of Elis: The Man Behind the Philosophy”
Now, before we get to the philosophy itself, we need to understand the man. And here’s where it gets fascinating – and frustrating.
Born around 360 BCE in Elis, Greece. Died around 270 BCE. That’s about all we know for certain about his dates. And that’s actually appropriate, given what he taught. Even the facts of his life resist our desire for certainty.
The irony isn’t lost on me that we’re trying to be certain about the life of a man who claimed we can’t be certain about anything. But let’s work with what we have.
What we do know is that Pyrrho’s life took an extraordinary turn. He travelled with Alexander the Great to India. Think about that for a moment. This Greek philosopher, steeped in the Western tradition of Plato and Aristotle, suddenly finds himself face-to-face with something completely different.
In India, he encountered what the Greeks called “gymnosophists” – literally “naked wise men.” These were likely early Buddhist monks. And something about their philosophy – their way of seeing the world – fundamentally transformed how Pyrrho thought.
Now, this is crucial: Pyrrho didn’t just import Eastern ideas wholesale. He wasn’t trying to turn Greeks into Buddhists. What he did was far more sophisticated. He took profound insights from Eastern philosophy and translated them into Greek philosophical discourse. He created a synthesis – something new that spoke to both traditions.
For centuries, scholars dismissed the connection between Pyrrho and Buddhism as speculation. “Not enough evidence,” they said. But recent scholarship – particularly Christopher Beckwith’s groundbreaking 2015 work – has established compelling links between Pyrrho’s philosophy and Buddhism’s “Three Marks of Existence.”
Let me give you those three marks, because they’re going to be crucial for understanding where Pyrrho’s going with all this:
Anicca – impermanence, constant flux. Nothing stays the same.
Dukkha – suffering, dissatisfaction. The human condition involves struggle.
Anatta – no-self, absence of permanent identity. There’s no fixed “you” underneath all the change.
Now, if you’re familiar with Buddhism, you’re nodding. If you’re not, you might be thinking, “Wait, what? No permanent self? That’s unsettling.”
Good. Hold onto that feeling. Because Pyrrho took these unsettling ideas and asked: “What if we applied this kind of thinking to everything? Not just the self, but all our beliefs, all our certainties, all our claims to knowledge?”
And here’s what makes Pyrrho so radical: He didn’t do this to be clever. He didn’t do this to win arguments at symposiums. He did this because he believed – genuinely believed – that this path led to something precious: freedom from mental disturbance.
The Greeks had a word for this state: ataraxia. We’ll get deep into that concept soon. But for now, just know this: Pyrrho wasn’t trying to make you confused. He was trying to make you free.
So we have this Greek philosopher, transformed by Eastern wisdom, returning to his homeland with a message that would challenge everything his culture believed about knowledge, truth, and the good life.
And the impact? It’s still rippling through philosophy 2,300 years later. It influenced the Renaissance. It shaped Enlightenment thinkers like David Hume. And today, in our age of information overload and competing realities, Pyrrho’s ancient wisdom feels almost prophetic.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s build this properly, piece by piece, the way Pyrrho would want us to – carefully, skeptically, and with our minds wide open.
Ready to have everything you think you know questioned? Good. That’s exactly the right attitude.
SLIDE 3: “The Core of Pyrrho’s Philosophy: Radical Scepticism”
Alright, now we get to the good stuff. The core claim. The foundation of everything Pyrrho taught. And I’m warning you right now – this is going to feel uncomfortable. It should. If it doesn’t, you’re not really hearing it.
“We are so constituted that we know nothing.”
This was recorded by a philosopher named Aristocles, and it’s about as radical a philosophical assertion as you’re ever going to encounter. Not “we know very little.” Not “knowledge is difficult.” But “we know nothing.”
Now, before you raise your hand and say, “But Professor Leshley, I know I’m sitting here right now. I know 2+2=4. I know my own name!” – hold on. Let’s unpack what Pyrrho actually means here.
Neither Truth Nor Falsehood
Look at the second point on your slide: “Our sensations and opinions reveal neither objective truth nor definitive falsehood about reality.”
This is subtle. Pyrrho isn’t saying your sensations are lying to you. He’s not saying reality doesn’t exist. What he’s saying is that the relationship between your experience and reality is… well, it’s not transparent. It’s not direct. There’s a gap.
Here’s reality. Here’s your experience of reality. And between them? Interpretation. Perspective. The limitations of human cognition. Cultural conditioning. Language. All of it creating a barrier between you and the thing-in-itself.
Think about it this way: You and I are looking at the same sunset. You see it as beautiful – proof of divine creation, perhaps. I see it as beautiful – the result of light refraction through atmospheric particles. A third person sees it and thinks about pollution levels. A fourth person is colorblind and experiences it completely differently.
Who’s right? Who’s seeing the “true” sunset?
Pyrrho says: None of us. All of us. The question itself is the problem.
Balanced Arguments
“Equally convincing arguments exist on all sides of any philosophical issue we encounter.”
This is where Pyrrho gets really interesting – and really challenging. He’s not just saying “everyone has their own truth” like some kind of ancient relativist. That’s too easy, and it’s not what he’s doing.
What he’s saying is this: For any position you can take on any philosophical question – Does God exist? Is there objective morality? What is justice? – you can construct an equally compelling argument for the opposite position.
And if you’ve ever been on the internet, you know this is true. For every argument, there’s a counter-argument. For every expert, there’s an equal and opposite expert. For every study, there’s a study that contradicts it.
But here’s where it gets uncomfortable: Pyrrho isn’t just talking about complex philosophical questions. He’s talking about everything. Even the things you’re absolutely certain about.
Your political beliefs? There are smart, thoughtful people who believe the exact opposite, with equally good reasons. Your religious convictions? Same thing. Your moral certainties? Yep, those too.
And you can dismiss those people as stupid or evil or brainwashed… or you can do what Pyrrho asks: Take seriously the possibility that you might not have access to absolute truth.
Epoché: Suspension
So what do you do? If every argument has a counter-argument, if every position has an equally compelling opposition, if we’re so constituted that we know nothing…
What. Do. You. Do?
Pyrrho’s answer: Suspend judgement.
The Greek word is epoché – and it’s going to become one of the most important concepts in this entire philosophy. It means: Stop. Don’t commit. Hold your beliefs lightly. Refuse to say “this is definitely true” or “that is definitely false.”
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “That sounds like paralysis. That sounds like never being able to make a decision. That sounds like intellectual cowardice.”
But that’s not what Pyrrho means. And this is crucial to understand: Epoché isn’t about being wishy-washy. It’s not about refusing to act. It’s about refusing to be dogmatic.
You can live your life. You can make choices. You can hold beliefs. But you hold them provisionally, tentatively, with the understanding that you might be wrong. You don’t stake your entire identity on being right.
And here’s the payoff – here’s why Pyrrho thinks this is worth doing:
“The solution is to suspend judgement entirely, avoiding frustration and the errors of false certainty.”
Think about how much suffering comes from certainty. How many wars have been fought because both sides were certain they were right? How many relationships have ended because someone couldn’t admit they might be wrong? How much anxiety do you carry because you’re terrified of being mistaken?
Pyrrho says: Let it go. All of it. The need to be right, the fear of being wrong, the endless mental gymnastics to defend your positions.
Just… suspend judgement.
And in that suspension, something remarkable happens. Something we’ll explore in depth on the next slide.
SLIDE 4: “Ataraxia: The Goal of Pyrrhonism”
Freedom from Disturbance
Ataraxia.
Say it with me: ah-tah-RAHK-see-ah.
It’s one of the most beautiful words in ancient Greek philosophy. And it represents the entire point of everything Pyrrho taught.
“Ataraxia represents liberation from mental turmoil and emotional distress – a state of profound inner calm achieved through philosophical practice.”
This is it. This is why we suspend judgement. This is why we embrace uncertainty. Not because we’re nihilists or cynics or intellectual cowards. But because on the other side of certainty lies peace.
Think about your mind right now. How much of it is churning? How many arguments are you rehearsing? How many positions are you defending, even just to yourself? How much energy goes into maintaining your worldview against all the contradictory information bombarding you every day?
It’s exhausting, isn’t it?
Pyrrho experienced this too. He saw philosophers tearing each other apart over questions that couldn’t be definitively answered. He saw people suffering because they were so attached to their beliefs. He saw the anxiety that comes from needing to be certain in an uncertain world.
And he thought: There has to be another way.
Ataraxia is that other way. It’s what happens when you stop fighting reality. When you stop demanding that the universe conform to your need for certainty. When you accept – genuinely accept – that you don’t know, and that’s okay.
Not Disengagement
Now, let me be absolutely clear about something, because this is where people misunderstand Pyrrho completely:
“This isn’t nihilism or withdrawal from life, but rather a balanced, tranquil state of mind that allows full participation without dogmatic attachment.”
Listen carefully: Pyrrho is not telling you to become a vegetable. He’s not saying “nothing matters, so why bother?” He’s not advocating for checking out of life, relationships, responsibilities, or moral action.
In fact, there are stories about Pyrrho living a perfectly normal life. He held public office in his hometown. He had students. He participated in civic life. One ancient source even says his fellow citizens exempted philosophers from taxation because of the honor he brought to the city.
Does that sound like someone who withdrew from the world?
What Pyrrho achieved – and what he’s offering you – is something far more sophisticated than withdrawal. It’s engaged detachment. It’s participating fully in life while not being enslaved by your need to be right about it.
You can have political opinions without demonizing people who disagree. You can hold religious beliefs without condemning those who don’t share them. You can make moral choices without claiming absolute certainty about universal ethical truths.
You can live – fully, richly, meaningfully – while acknowledging the fundamental uncertainty of human existence.
And here’s what’s remarkable: When you do this, when you really embrace epoché and achieve ataraxia, you don’t become less engaged with life. You become more engaged. Because you’re not wasting all that energy defending your ego, protecting your beliefs, or maintaining your certainties.
Practical Wisdom
“Pyrrho’s philosophy offers a practical path: live calmly and effectively amid uncertainty and the perpetual conflict of opposing viewpoints.”
This is the promise. This is what Pyrrho is offering you across 2,300 years of history.
You live in a world of information overload. Competing narratives. Fake news and real news that contradict each other. Experts disagreeing. Your own beliefs challenged daily by algorithms designed to show you content that contradicts your worldview.
How do you navigate that without losing your mind?
Pyrrho says: Stop trying to figure out who’s absolutely right. Stop demanding certainty. Suspend judgement. And in that suspension, find peace.
You can live calmly. You can act effectively. You can make decisions, hold beliefs, participate in the world. But you do it all with a light touch. With intellectual humility. With the understanding that you might be wrong, and that’s not a catastrophe – it’s just being human.
That’s ataraxia. That’s the goal. That’s what all of this radical skepticism is ultimately about.
Not confusion. Not paralysis. Not nihilism.
Freedom.
And if you’re sitting there thinking, “Okay, but how? How do I actually do this? How do I suspend judgement when everything in me wants to be certain?”
Good question. We’re going to get to the practices, the techniques, the actual how of Pyrrhonian skepticism. But first, we need to understand where these ideas came from and how they connect to that encounter with Buddhist philosophy in India.
Because Pyrrho didn’t invent these ideas in a vacuum. He synthesized them from a cross-cultural philosophical encounter that was, frankly, unprecedented in the ancient world.
And that’s where our story gets even more interesting…
SLIDE 5: “Pyrrho and Buddhism: Cross-Cultural Philosophical Encounter”
Alright, now we’re getting into something that’s going to blow your mind. Because for the longest time – I’m talking centuries – scholars looked at Pyrrho’s philosophy and said, “Hmm, this seems kind of Buddhist. But nah, probably just a coincidence. Not enough evidence.”
And then Christopher Beckwith comes along in 2015 and says, “Actually, no. This isn’t a coincidence. The connections are real, they’re specific, and they’re profound.”
Eastern Wisdom Meets Western Thought
Here’s what we know: Pyrrho travelled to India with Alexander the Great. He encountered these “naked wise men” – the gymnosophists. And something about what they taught fundamentally transformed his thinking.
But it wasn’t just a vague influence. It wasn’t just “Eastern philosophy is cool.” Beckwith’s scholarship establishes compelling, specific links between Pyrrho’s ideas and Buddhism’s “Three Marks of Existence.”
Let me walk you through these, because understanding them is absolutely crucial to understanding what Pyrrho’s doing.
Anicca: Impermanence and Constant Flux
The first mark: Anicca. Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. The universe is in constant flux.
Now, this might seem obvious. “Yeah, Professor, things change. Tell me something I don’t know.”
But really sit with this for a moment. Everything changes. Your body is changing right now – cells dying, new ones being born. Your thoughts are changing – the “you” who started listening to this lecture isn’t quite the same “you” who’s hearing these words now. Your relationships change. Your beliefs change. The entire universe is in constant motion.
The Buddhists say: If everything is constantly changing, what exactly are you trying to hold onto? What are you trying to make permanent?
Dukkha: Suffering and Dissatisfaction
The second mark: Dukkha. Usually translated as “suffering,” but it’s more subtle than that. It’s dissatisfaction. It’s the fundamental unsatisfactoriness of trying to find permanent happiness in an impermanent world.
You get the thing you wanted – the job, the relationship, the achievement – and there’s a moment of satisfaction. But it doesn’t last, does it? Because everything changes. The job becomes routine. The relationship faces challenges. The achievement fades into the past.
And so you chase the next thing. And the next. And the next. Always seeking, never quite satisfied.
That’s dukkha. The suffering that comes from trying to find permanence in impermanence.
Anatta: No-Self or Absence of Permanent Identity
And the third mark – this is the one that really messes with people: Anatta. No-self. The absence of a permanent, unchanging identity.
I can see some of you right now: “Wait, what? No self? But I’m right here! I’m me! I’ve been me my whole life!”
Have you though?
Are you the same person you were at five years old? At fifteen? Five years ago? Yesterday? Your body has changed. Your thoughts have changed. Your beliefs have changed. Your memories have changed – neuroscience shows us that every time you remember something, you’re actually reconstructing it, not playing back a recording.
So what exactly is this permanent “you” you’re so sure exists?
Buddhism says: There isn’t one. There’s a process. There’s a continuous flow of experience. But there’s no unchanging essence underneath it all.
Now, I know this is unsettling. It’s supposed to be. Because we build our entire lives around the assumption of a permanent self. “I am this kind of person.” “This is what I believe.” “This is who I am.”
But what if that’s the source of suffering? What if clinging to a fixed identity in a constantly changing universe is what’s causing all the problems?
Pyrrho Brilliantly Adapted These Profound Eastern Concepts
And here’s where Pyrrho’s genius comes in. He took these three marks – impermanence, suffering, no-self – and he asked: “What if we applied this same kind of thinking to knowledge itself?”
If everything is impermanent, including our thoughts and beliefs, why are we so attached to our certainties?
If suffering comes from clinging to what can’t be held, why are we clinging to our opinions as if they’re permanent truths?
If there’s no permanent self, why are we defending our beliefs as if our identity depends on them?
Pyrrho created a unique synthesis. He wasn’t trying to turn Greeks into Buddhists. He was translating these Eastern insights into Greek philosophical discourse, creating something new – a philosophy focused on suspending dogmatic belief.
And here’s what’s remarkable: He did this 2,300 years ago, creating one of the first genuine cross-cultural philosophical syntheses in human history.
Think about what that means. In an age before the internet, before global communication, before easy travel, Pyrrho encountered a completely different way of thinking about reality – and instead of dismissing it or trying to conquer it intellectually, he learned from it.
He took the best of Eastern wisdom and the best of Greek philosophical rigor and created something that speaks to both traditions.
That’s not just philosophy. That’s intellectual courage.
SLIDE 6: “Key Practices of Pyrrhonian Scepticism”
Alright, so we’ve got the theory. We understand the goal – ataraxia, freedom from disturbance. We understand the influences – Buddhism’s Three Marks of Existence.
Now the question is: How do you actually do this? How do you practice Pyrrhonian skepticism?
Because here’s the thing – and this is crucial – Pyrrho wasn’t just offering a theory to think about. He was offering a practice. A way of life. Specific techniques you can use.
Let me walk you through the four key practices. And I want you to think about how you might actually apply these in your own life.
01 – Epoché
We’ve already talked about epoché – the suspension of judgement. But let’s get more specific about what this actually means in practice.
“The disciplined suspension of judgement on all philosophical and practical matters, refusing to commit to any position as definitively true.”
Notice that word: disciplined. This isn’t passive. This isn’t just shrugging your shoulders and saying “whatever.” This is an active, intentional practice.
Here’s how it works: You encounter a claim. “This political policy is good.” “That moral position is wrong.” “This belief is true.”
Your natural impulse is to immediately agree or disagree, right? To take a position. To commit.
Epoché says: Stop. Before you commit, examine the claim. Look at the arguments on both sides. Really look – not just to find ammunition for what you already believe, but genuinely trying to understand the opposing view.
And then – and this is the hard part – don’t commit. Hold the question open. Sit with the uncertainty.
I know, I know. Everything in you wants to have an opinion. We live in a culture that demands opinions. “What do you think about this?” “Where do you stand on that?” “Are you with us or against us?”
Epoché says: “I don’t know. I’m still thinking about it. The arguments on both sides are compelling.”
And you practice this. Daily. With small things and big things. Until suspension of judgement becomes your default mode rather than immediate certainty.
02 – Acatalepsy
“The recognition that certain knowledge is ultimately unattainable – we cannot grasp truth with absolute confidence.”
Acatalepsy – from the Greek meaning “inability to grasp” or “incomprehensibility.”
This is the philosophical foundation under epoché. It’s the why behind the suspension of judgement.
We cannot grasp truth with absolute confidence. Not because we’re stupid. Not because we’re not trying hard enough. But because of the fundamental nature of human cognition and our relationship to reality.
Remember that gap I talked about earlier? Between reality and our experience of reality? Acatalepsy is the recognition that we can’t bridge that gap completely. We can’t get outside our own perspective to see things as they “really are.”
Now, this doesn’t mean truth doesn’t exist. It doesn’t mean reality isn’t real. It means our access to truth is always mediated, always filtered, always incomplete.
And once you really understand this – once you really get acatalepsy – it changes everything.
You stop saying “I know this is true” and start saying “This seems true to me, given my limited perspective and the information I have access to.”
Sounds like a small change, right? But it’s revolutionary. Because that small shift in language reflects a massive shift in attitude.
03 – Aporia
“Embracing puzzlement, perplexity, and doubt as natural, even desirable states rather than problems to overcome.”
Aporia – literally “without passage” or “at an impasse.” Being stuck. Being confused. Not knowing.
We hate this, don’t we? We hate being confused. We hate not knowing. We treat uncertainty like a disease that needs to be cured as quickly as possible.
Someone asks us a question and we don’t know the answer? Panic. Quick, make something up. Google it. Ask Siri. Anything but admit we don’t know.
But Pyrrho says: What if confusion is actually valuable? What if puzzlement is exactly where you should be?
Because here’s the thing – when you’re certain, you stop thinking. When you “know” the answer, you stop investigating. Certainty is the end of inquiry.
But aporia? Aporia keeps you open. Keeps you curious. Keeps you genuinely engaged with the question.
The Socratic dialogues often end in aporia. Socrates asks a question – “What is justice?” “What is virtue?” – and after pages of discussion, they end up more confused than when they started.
And we read these dialogues and think, “Well, that was unsatisfying. They didn’t answer the question!”
But that’s the point. The aporia is the answer. The recognition that the question is more complex than we thought, that easy certainties don’t hold up under scrutiny – that’s the wisdom.
Pyrrho takes this and says: Live there. In the aporia. In the puzzlement. Don’t rush to resolve it. Sit with it. Let it teach you.
04 – Adiaphora
“Regarding things as indifferent – neither inherently true nor false, good nor bad – freeing ourselves from dogmatic attachment.”
Adiaphora – things that are indifferent, that make no difference.
Now, be careful here. Pyrrho is not saying nothing matters. He’s not saying there’s no difference between good and bad actions. That would be nihilism, and we’ve already established that’s not what he’s doing.
What he’s saying is that things don’t have inherent, objective value independent of our judgements about them.
Is wealth good or bad? Well… it depends, doesn’t it? Wealth can be used for good or evil. It can bring happiness or misery. It’s not inherently one or the other.
Is pleasure good? The Epicureans said yes, absolutely. But pleasure can lead to addiction, to harm, to suffering. So… is it inherently good?
Adiaphora says: These things are indifferent. They’re neither inherently good nor bad. What matters is how we relate to them, how we use them, what we do with them.
And when you regard things as adiaphora, something remarkable happens: You stop being enslaved by them.
You can enjoy wealth without being destroyed by its loss. You can pursue pleasure without being controlled by it. You can hold beliefs without your entire identity depending on them being true.
These four practices – epoché, acatalepsy, aporia, adiaphora – they work together. They reinforce each other. They’re not just abstract concepts but actual techniques you can use.
Suspend judgement. Recognize the limits of knowledge. Embrace uncertainty. Regard things as indifferent.
Do this consistently, and you move toward ataraxia. Toward that freedom from disturbance that Pyrrho promises.
Now, I’m not going to lie to you – this is hard. Everything in our culture pushes against it. We’re rewarded for certainty, punished for doubt. We’re told to have strong opinions, to take a stand, to commit.
Pyrrho asks you to do the opposite. And that takes courage. Real intellectual courage.
But the payoff? The peace that comes from letting go of the need to be right all the time?
That’s worth the effort.
Trust me on this one. Or actually – don’t trust me. Suspend judgement. Try it for yourself and see what happens.
Now, you might be wondering: Did this philosophy just die with Pyrrho? Was it just a historical curiosity?
Not even close. The legacy of Pyrrhonian skepticism stretches from ancient Greece all the way to your smartphone. And that’s where we’re headed next…
SLIDE 7: “Pyrrho’s Legacy: From Antiquity to Modern Thought”
Alright, here’s where we see just how powerful Pyrrho’s ideas really were. Because philosophies don’t survive 2,300 years unless they’re saying something profound about the human condition.
And Pyrrhonism? It didn’t just survive. It evolved, transformed, influenced some of the greatest minds in Western history, and – here’s the kicker – it’s more relevant today than it’s been in centuries.
Let me walk you through this journey. Four major moments where Pyrrhonism resurfaces and reshapes philosophical discourse.
1 – Ancient Systematisation
So here’s the thing about Pyrrho: He never wrote anything down. Not a single word. Everything we know about his philosophy comes from his followers and later commentators.
And the most important of these followers was a guy named Timon of Phlius. Timon was Pyrrho’s student, and he took on the task of preserving his teacher’s oral teachings. He wrote poetry, philosophical works, trying to capture what Pyrrho taught.
But even Timon’s works are mostly lost to us. We have fragments, quotations in other people’s books, references. It’s like trying to reconstruct a conversation by reading someone’s notes about what they remember hearing.
And there’s something beautifully appropriate about this, isn’t there? A philosophy that claims we can’t grasp certain truth, and we can’t even grasp the philosophy itself with certainty. The medium matches the message.
But then, centuries later – we’re talking around 200 CE, roughly 400 years after Pyrrho’s death – a physician and philosopher named Sextus Empiricus comes along and does something remarkable.
He systematizes Pyrrhonism. He writes it down in comprehensive, detailed texts. The Outlines of Pyrrhonism, the Against the Mathematicians – these become the definitive sources for understanding Pyrrhonian skepticism.
And here’s what’s fascinating: Sextus takes Pyrrho’s lived philosophy – this way of being in the world – and turns it into rigorous philosophical arguments. He shows how Pyrrhonian skepticism stands up against every other philosophical school of the ancient world.
The Stoics claim to know the nature of virtue? Sextus dismantles it. The Epicureans claim certain knowledge about atoms and pleasure? Sextus shows the contradictions. The Platonists claim access to eternal Forms? Sextus demonstrates why that’s unjustified.
He’s basically the ancient world’s most sophisticated philosophical troll. Except he’s not trolling – he’s genuinely showing that none of these schools can justify their certainties.
And because of Sextus, Pyrrhonism survives. It gets preserved, transmitted, eventually rediscovered. Without him, we might not be having this conversation.
2 – Renaissance Revival
Now, fast forward about 1,300 years. We’re in the Renaissance – roughly the 1500s. Europe is going through massive intellectual and cultural upheaval.
The printing press has been invented. Ancient texts are being rediscovered and translated. The Protestant Reformation is challenging the Catholic Church’s authority. The old certainties are crumbling.
And into this chaos, Sextus Empiricus’s works are rediscovered and translated into Latin.
And it’s like an intellectual bomb going off.
Renaissance thinkers – and I’m talking about brilliant minds like Michel de Montaigne – read Sextus and think: “Wait. This ancient philosophy is speaking directly to our moment.”
Montaigne, in particular, becomes a kind of Christian Pyrrhonist. He uses skeptical arguments to challenge dogmatic certainties – both religious and secular. His famous essay “Apology for Raymond Sebond” is basically a Pyrrhonian masterpiece.
He asks: How do we know what we claim to know? What justifies our certainties? And he shows, using Pyrrhonian techniques, that most of what we’re certain about rests on shaky foundations.
But here’s the crucial thing: Montaigne isn’t trying to destroy faith or morality or knowledge. He’s trying to cultivate intellectual humility. He’s trying to show that human reason has limits, and recognizing those limits is actually a form of wisdom.
His motto? “Que sais-je?” – “What do I know?”
That’s pure Pyrrho, filtered through a Renaissance Christian humanist.
And this revival of Pyrrhonism during the Renaissance does something profound: It helps create the intellectual space for the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment. Because once you’ve questioned all the old certainties, you can start building new knowledge on more solid foundations.
3 – Enlightenment Impact
Which brings us to the Enlightenment – the 1700s. The Age of Reason. And here’s where Pyrrhonism has perhaps its most profound impact on Western philosophy.
David Hume. Scottish philosopher. One of the most important thinkers in the Western tradition. And deeply, profoundly influenced by Pyrrhonian skepticism.
Hume takes Pyrrhonian principles and applies them systematically to epistemology – the study of knowledge. And what he discovers is devastating to the rationalist project.
He shows that we can’t justify our belief in causation through reason alone. We can’t prove that the future will resemble the past. We can’t even prove that there’s a continuous self that persists through time.
Sound familiar? That last one is straight out of Buddhist anatta, filtered through Pyrrho, arriving at the heart of Enlightenment philosophy.
Hume basically demonstrates that if you push reason far enough, it undermines its own foundations. You end up in Pyrrhonian aporia – puzzlement, uncertainty, the inability to justify your most basic beliefs.
And Hume’s honest about this. He admits that his skeptical arguments are unanswerable. But he also admits that we can’t actually live as complete skeptics. We have to act, make decisions, hold beliefs – even if we can’t rationally justify them.
So what does he recommend? Basically a form of moderate Pyrrhonism. Hold your beliefs lightly. Be humble about your knowledge claims. Don’t be dogmatic.
And this Humean skepticism – this sophisticated, Pyrrhonian-influenced epistemology – shapes everything that comes after. Kant is responding to Hume. The entire modern philosophical project is wrestling with the problems Hume raised.
Problems that ultimately trace back to Pyrrho, standing in ancient Greece, saying “We know nothing.”
4 – Contemporary Relevance
Which brings us to today. Right now. The 21st century. The age of information overload, social media echo chambers, competing narratives, fake news, alternative facts, and epistemic chaos.
And suddenly, Pyrrho feels prophetic.
“Today, Pyrrhonism offers invaluable tools for coping with information overload, competing narratives, and the uncertainty of modern life.”
Think about your daily experience. You wake up, check your phone, and you’re immediately bombarded with information. News articles. Social media posts. Expert opinions. All of it claiming to be true. Much of it contradicting other things claiming to be true.
How do you navigate that? How do you figure out what to believe?
The modern response is usually tribal: You pick a side. You choose your trusted sources. You filter out information that contradicts your worldview. You create a bubble of certainty in an ocean of uncertainty.
Pyrrho offers a different path.
Suspend judgment. Recognize the limits of your knowledge. Embrace the uncertainty. Don’t let your identity depend on being right about things you can’t actually be certain about.
Contemporary philosophers and psychologists are rediscovering Pyrrhonian techniques. Cognitive behavioral therapy uses forms of cognitive distancing that echo epoché. Mindfulness practices cultivate the kind of non-judgmental awareness that Pyrrho advocated. Even in epistemology, there’s renewed interest in skeptical positions.
Because here’s the thing: The problems Pyrrho identified – dogmatism, the suffering that comes from attachment to beliefs, the anxiety of needing certainty in an uncertain world – these problems haven’t gone away. If anything, they’ve intensified.
We need Pyrrho now more than ever. Not as a historical curiosity, but as a practical guide for navigating the 21st century.
SLIDE 8: “Pyrrhonism Versus Other Philosophical Schools”
Alright, now I know what some of you are thinking: “Professor Leshley, this Pyrrhonism thing sounds kind of like Stoicism. Or maybe Buddhism. Or isn’t it just Socratic questioning?”
Great question. And the answer is: No. Pyrrhonism is doing something fundamentally different from all of these. And understanding those differences is crucial to really grasping what makes Pyrrho’s philosophy unique.
Let’s go through these one by one.
The Stoics were contemporaries of the Pyrrhonists. They were responding to the same cultural moment, the same philosophical questions. But they went in completely opposite directions.
“Unlike Stoics who claimed certain knowledge of natural law and virtue, Pyrrho rejected all dogmatic claims about reality’s nature.”
The Stoics said: There is a rational order to the universe – the Logos. We can know this order through reason. Virtue consists in living in accordance with nature. And we can be certain about what virtue requires.
Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic emperor, writes in his Meditations: “You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”
That’s beautiful, right? Inspiring. Empowering.
But it rests on a claim to knowledge. It assumes you can know what’s in your control and what isn’t. It assumes you can know what virtue requires. It assumes there’s a natural law you can align yourself with.
Pyrrho says: How do you know any of that? What justifies those certainties?
The Stoics achieve tranquility through certainty – through knowing the nature of things and accepting them. Pyrrho achieves tranquility through uncertainty – through suspending judgment about the nature of things.
Same goal – ataraxia, freedom from disturbance. Completely opposite paths.
The Stoic says: “I know what’s right, and I’ll do it regardless of consequences.”
The Pyrrhonist says: “I don’t know what’s ultimately right, so I’ll act according to appearances and customs without claiming certainty.”
It’s like two people trying to cross a river. The Stoic builds a bridge of certainty and marches across confidently. The Pyrrhonist wades through carefully, feeling for each step, never quite sure of the footing but making it across anyway.
“Whilst Epicureans sought pleasure through atomistic physics and certainty, Pyrrho found peace by abandoning the quest for truth altogether.”
The Epicureans were materialists. They believed the universe was made of atoms moving through void. They believed we could have certain knowledge of this through sense perception. And they believed that understanding the true nature of reality would free us from fear – especially fear of death and the gods.
Epicurus famously said: “Death is nothing to us. When we exist, death is not yet present, and when death is present, then we do not exist.”
That’s supposed to be comforting. And it is – if you accept the materialist metaphysics it rests on.
But Pyrrho asks: How do you know atoms exist? How do you know sense perception gives you accurate information about reality? How do you know death is really the end of consciousness?
You don’t. You can’t. These are dogmatic claims – beliefs held with certainty despite the lack of justification.
The Epicurean seeks pleasure and avoids pain based on a confident understanding of physics and human nature. The Pyrrhonist suspends judgment about physics and human nature and finds peace in the suspension itself.
The Epicurean says: “I know what will make me happy – moderate pleasures, friendship, philosophical understanding.”
The Pyrrhonist says: “I don’t know what will ultimately make me happy, but I’ll follow appearances and see what happens.”
Now this is interesting, because superficially, Pyrrhonism looks a lot like Socratic questioning. Both involve examining beliefs, finding contradictions, arriving at aporia.
But there’s a crucial difference:
“Where Socrates questioned to discover truth, Pyrrho embraced ‘knowing nothing’ as liberation itself – doubt as destination, not journey.”
Socrates uses questioning as a method. The goal is to clear away false beliefs so that true knowledge can emerge. The aporia – the puzzlement – is temporary. It’s a stage in the journey toward wisdom.
Socrates famously said: “I know that I know nothing.” But he meant this as the beginning of wisdom, not the end. The recognition of ignorance is what motivates the search for truth.
Pyrrho says: No. The recognition of ignorance is the wisdom. The aporia isn’t a stage – it’s the destination. You don’t suspend judgment temporarily until you figure out the truth. You suspend judgment permanently because certain truth is unattainable.
Socrates is like a detective who knows there’s a solution to the mystery and won’t stop until he finds it. Pyrrho is like someone who realizes the mystery might not have a solution – and finds peace in that realization.
Socrates: “The unexamined life is not worth living.”
Pyrrho: “The examined life reveals that certainty is impossible – and that’s okay.”
“Pyrrhonism offered a revolutionary third path: achieving inner peace through doubt rather than certainty, making it both a philosophy of mind and a complete way of life.”
See, most ancient philosophies offered you certainty as the path to peace. The Stoics: Be certain about virtue. The Epicureans: Be certain about pleasure and physics. The Platonists: Be certain about the Forms.
Even Socrates, for all his questioning, believed truth was out there to be discovered.
Pyrrho says: What if the problem is the quest for certainty? What if trying to grasp truth is what’s causing the suffering?
It’s not just a different answer to the same question. It’s a different question entirely.
Not “What should I be certain about?” but “Why do I need to be certain at all?”
Not “How do I find truth?” but “What if I can’t – and what if that’s liberating?”
This is why Pyrrhonism is both a philosophy of mind and a complete way of life. It’s not just about what you think – it’s about how you think. It’s not just about beliefs – it’s about your relationship to belief itself.
The Stoic changes his beliefs to achieve peace. The Epicurean changes his understanding to achieve peace. The Pyrrhonist changes his relationship to certainty itself to achieve peace.
And that’s revolutionary. That’s why this philosophy survives 2,300 years. That’s why it keeps resurfacing whenever human beings face epistemic crisis – whenever we’re overwhelmed by competing claims to truth.
Because Pyrrho isn’t offering you new certainties to replace the old ones. He’s offering you freedom from the need for certainty altogether.
And in a world drowning in information, competing narratives, and dogmatic claims…
That might be exactly what we need.
So now the question becomes: Okay, this is all fascinating history and philosophy. But what does it mean for you? How does this ancient wisdom apply to your actual life in the 21st century?
That’s where we’re headed next…
SLIDE 9: “Why Pyrrho Matters Today”
Alright, we’ve covered the history. We’ve covered the philosophy. We’ve traced the legacy from ancient Greece to the present day. And now comes the crucial question – the question you should always ask when studying philosophy:
So what?
Why does this matter? Why should you care about some ancient Greek guy who claimed we know nothing? What does Pyrrho have to do with your life right now, today, in the 21st century?
Everything. He has everything to do with your life. And I’m going to show you exactly why.
Three reasons. Three ways Pyrrhonian skepticism speaks directly to the challenges you face every single day.
Intellectual Humility
“In an era of competing truths and polarized discourse, Pyrrho encourages us to hold our beliefs lightly and remain open to alternative perspectives.”
Let me ask you something: When was the last time you changed your mind about something important? Not just updated your information, but genuinely changed your position on a significant issue?
For most people, the answer is: rarely. Maybe never. Because we’ve built our identities around our beliefs. To change our minds feels like betraying ourselves.
You’re a liberal or a conservative. You’re religious or atheist. You’re pro-this or anti-that. And those positions become who you are. Your tribe. Your team. Your identity.
And then what happens? You encounter someone who disagrees. Someone smart, thoughtful, well-intentioned – but they believe the opposite of what you believe.
Your options are: 1) They’re stupid. 2) They’re evil. 3) They’re brainwashed. Because if they’re none of those things, if they’re just as smart and moral and thoughtful as you are and they still disagree…
Then maybe you’re not as certain as you thought.
Pyrrho offers you a way out of this trap. Intellectual humility. The recognition that you might be wrong. That your perspective is limited. That equally intelligent, moral people can look at the same evidence and reach different conclusions.
And here’s what’s remarkable: When you embrace this – when you really hold your beliefs lightly – something unexpected happens.
You become more persuasive, not less. Because people can tell when you’re genuinely open to being wrong. They can sense intellectual humility. And they’re much more likely to listen to someone who might listen to them.
Think about the most productive conversations you’ve ever had about contentious topics. I bet they weren’t the ones where both people were absolutely certain they were right. They were the ones where both people said, “Huh, I hadn’t thought about it that way. Tell me more.”
That’s Pyrrhonian intellectual humility in action.
Now, I’m not saying you can’t have convictions. I’m not saying you can’t act on your beliefs. But you hold them provisionally. You remain open to evidence that might change your mind. You don’t stake your entire identity on being right.
And in an era of competing truths and polarized discourse – where everyone’s screaming their certainties at each other and nobody’s listening – that kind of intellectual humility is revolutionary.
It’s also desperately needed.
Mental Tranquility
“By accepting the inherent limits of human knowledge, we free ourselves from the anxiety of needing absolute certainty in an uncertain world.”
Let me tell you what I see in my students. Anxiety. Constant, grinding anxiety. About their grades. About their future. About whether they’re making the right choices. About whether they believe the right things.
The anxiety of uncertainty.
And here’s what’s tragic: They think the solution is more certainty. More information. More research. More expert opinions. If they could just know for sure, then they’d feel better.
But it doesn’t work that way, does it? Because the more information you gather, the more contradictions you find. The more experts you consult, the more disagreement you discover. The harder you try to achieve certainty, the more elusive it becomes.
Pyrrho says: Stop. You’re chasing something you can’t catch. Certain knowledge is unattainable. Not because you’re not smart enough or haven’t tried hard enough, but because of the fundamental nature of human cognition and our relationship to reality.
And once you really accept that – once you genuinely let go of the need for absolute certainty – something remarkable happens.
The anxiety… dissolves.
Because the anxiety wasn’t coming from uncertainty itself. It was coming from your resistance to uncertainty. From your belief that you should be certain, that you need to be certain, that something’s wrong with you if you’re not certain.
Pyrrho says: No. Uncertainty is the natural human condition. Embrace it. Live in it. Make decisions anyway. Act anyway. But without the crushing weight of needing to be absolutely right.
It’s like… imagine you’re carrying a heavy backpack full of rocks labeled “Things I Must Be Certain About.” And you’ve been carrying it so long you forgot it was there. You just accept that life is heavy and exhausting.
Pyrrho walks up and says, “You know you can put that down, right?”
And you say, “But then how will I know where to go?”
And he says, “The same way you do now. By looking around, making your best guess, and adjusting as you go. The rocks aren’t helping. They’re just making you tired.”
That’s mental tranquility. Not the absence of challenges or decisions or uncertainty. But the absence of anxiety about uncertainty.
You can live fully, make choices, hold beliefs, pursue goals – all without the crushing burden of needing absolute certainty.
And in our anxious age, where uncertainty is the only certainty, that’s not just philosophy. That’s mental health.
Critical Thinking
“Pyrrhonism inspires rigorous critical thinking without descending into cynicism, despair, or the paralysis of radical relativism.”
Now, here’s where people often misunderstand Pyrrhonism. They think: “If we can’t be certain about anything, then nothing matters. All beliefs are equally valid. Truth is just, like, your opinion, man.”
That’s not Pyrrhonism. That’s lazy relativism. And Pyrrho would have no patience for it.
Pyrrhonian skepticism is rigorous. It demands that you examine arguments carefully. That you look at evidence. That you consider counterarguments. That you think deeply about the foundations of your beliefs.
It’s not “anything goes.” It’s “show me your reasoning.”
The difference is this: The relativist says, “All beliefs are equally valid, so I don’t have to think critically about any of them.”
The Pyrrhonist says, “I’m going to think critically about all of them, and what I’ll discover is that none of them can be justified with absolute certainty – but some are more reasonable than others given the available evidence.”
See the difference? The relativist gives up on critical thinking. The Pyrrhonist doubles down on it.
You examine arguments from all sides. You look for contradictions. You test claims against evidence. You consider alternative explanations. You do all the work of rigorous critical thinking.
And then – and this is the Pyrrhonian move – you suspend final judgment. You say, “Based on the evidence I have access to, this position seems more reasonable than that one. But I could be wrong. I’m open to new evidence.”
It’s critical thinking with humility. Rigor without dogmatism. Careful reasoning without claiming absolute certainty.
And here’s why this matters in the 21st century: We’re drowning in information. Misinformation. Disinformation. Conspiracy theories. Propaganda. Sophisticated arguments for terrible positions. Terrible arguments for good positions.
How do you navigate that?
Not by giving up and saying “everything’s relative.” Not by picking a tribe and believing whatever they tell you. Not by becoming cynical and despairing that truth is impossible.
You navigate it with Pyrrhonian critical thinking. You examine claims carefully. You look at evidence. You consider counterarguments. You remain intellectually humble. You hold your conclusions provisionally.
You think rigorously without claiming certainty. You act decisively without being dogmatic. You engage seriously with ideas without staking your identity on being right.
A Timeless Philosophical Guide
“A timeless philosophical guide for navigating complexity, ambiguity, and the bewildering information landscape of the 21st century.”
That’s what Pyrrho offers. Not answers. Not certainties. Not a new dogma to replace the old ones.
But a way of being in the world. A set of practices. A philosophical toolkit for navigating uncertainty without losing your mind.
Intellectual humility to engage across differences. Mental tranquility to live without anxiety. Critical thinking to navigate information chaos.
These aren’t just nice ideas. They’re survival skills for the modern world.
SLIDE 10: “Conclusion: Embracing Uncertainty with Pyrrho”
“We know nothing – and in that, perhaps, lies true wisdom.”
We’ve covered a lot of ground. Ancient Greece to modern times. Buddhist philosophy to Enlightenment epistemology. Abstract theory to practical application.
But it all comes down to this simple, radical claim: We know nothing. And that’s not a problem. That’s the solution.
Let me bring this home for you. Let me make this as concrete and practical as I can.
Pyrrho’s Skepticism: Radical and Practical
“Pyrrho’s skepticism is both radical and eminently practical – a complete philosophy of life rather than mere abstract theory.”
This is crucial to understand. Pyrrho isn’t just playing intellectual games. He’s not sitting in an ivory tower spinning clever arguments for the fun of it.
He’s offering you a way to live. A complete philosophy of life. Something you can actually use.
You know how some philosophy feels like mental gymnastics? Interesting to think about, fun to debate, but ultimately disconnected from real life?
Pyrrho isn’t that. Pyrrho is intensely practical.
You wake up tomorrow. You’re faced with decisions. Conflicting information. Competing claims about what’s true, what’s good, what you should do.
Pyrrhonism gives you a framework: Examine the arguments on all sides. Recognize that you can’t achieve absolute certainty. Suspend final judgment. Act according to appearances and reasonable inference. But hold your conclusions lightly.
That’s not abstract. That’s how you navigate Tuesday.
Systematic Suspension of Judgment
“By systematically suspending judgment on all matters, we can achieve the tranquility and freedom from psychological distress that so many seek.”
And here’s the promise – the core promise of Pyrrhonism: If you do this, if you really practice systematic suspension of judgment, you will achieve ataraxia.
Freedom from disturbance. Freedom from the anxiety of needing to be right. Freedom from the psychological distress that comes from clinging to certainties in an uncertain world.
Now, I’m not going to lie to you. This is hard. Everything in our culture pushes against it.
We’re rewarded for having strong opinions. We’re punished for admitting uncertainty. We’re told that changing our minds is weakness. We’re encouraged to pick a side and defend it to the death.
Pyrrho asks you to resist all of that. To go against the cultural current. To practice intellectual humility in an age of dogmatic certainty.
That takes courage. Real philosophical courage.
But the payoff…
The payoff is peace. Genuine, deep, lasting peace. Not the peace of having all the answers. The peace of being okay with not having them.
Ancient Wisdom, Modern Relevance
“His ancient wisdom remains profoundly relevant, offering modern seekers a beacon of hope: we can find peace not despite uncertainty, but through embracing it fully.”
Think about what you’re facing right now. In your life. In the world.
Climate change – experts disagreeing about timelines and solutions. Politics – competing narratives about what’s true and what’s propaganda. Technology – AI, social media, constant disruption. Personal decisions – career, relationships, identity.
Uncertainty everywhere. Competing claims everywhere. No clear answers anywhere.
The modern response is usually anxiety. Or tribalism. Or cynicism. Or some combination of all three.
Pyrrho offers something different: Embrace the uncertainty. Stop fighting it. Stop demanding that reality give you the certainty you crave.
We can find peace not despite uncertainty, but through embracing it fully.
Not by resolving the uncertainty – you can’t. Not by pretending it doesn’t exist – it does. But by changing your relationship to it.
By recognizing that uncertainty is the natural human condition. That you’ve been living in it your whole life anyway. That the anxiety comes from resisting it, not from the uncertainty itself.
In Acknowledging the Limits of Knowledge, We Discover Liberation
“In acknowledging the limits of knowledge, we discover liberation.”
This is the paradox at the heart of Pyrrhonism. The thing that seems like it should be depressing – we can’t know anything for certain – turns out to be liberating.
Because once you really accept the limits of knowledge, once you genuinely let go of the need for certainty…
You’re free.
Free to think without the burden of needing to be right. Free to change your mind without feeling like you’ve failed. Free to engage with people who disagree without treating them as enemies. Free to hold beliefs without your identity depending on them being true.
Free to live fully in an uncertain world.
That’s what Pyrrho offers you. Not answers. Not certainties. Not a new set of dogmas.
But freedom. Liberation. Peace.
And in a world that’s more uncertain, more complex, more bewildering than ever before…
That might be the most valuable gift philosophy can give.
So here’s my question for you: Are you ready to embrace uncertainty? Are you ready to suspend judgment? Are you ready to let go of the need to be right all the time?
Are you ready to be free?
Pyrrho’s been waiting 2,300 years for you to say yes.
Or, you know… suspend judgment on that too. See how it feels. Try it out. Hold it lightly.
That’s what he’d want.
We know nothing. And in that, perhaps, lies true wisdom.