What does 'the Epic of Gilgamesh' have to do with Machiavelli or existential risk?
Urshanabi, climb up on to the wall of Uruk, inspect its foundation terrace, and examine well the brickwork; see if it is not of burnt bricks; and did not the seven wise men lay these foundations? One third of the whole is city, one third is garden, and one third is field, with the precinct of the goddess Ishtar. These parts and the precinct are all Uruk.
Gilgamesh to Urshanabi the ferryman
With a high chance of sounding exceedingly pretentious, I think it's thematically appropriate to have my first post be about one of the oldest written stories in existence: The Epic of Gilgamesh. The copy I read sometime last year was the Penguin Classics Edition expertly translated by Andrew George. I'll be talking about how the themes of Gilgamesh parallel the idea of glory found in Machiavelli's The Prince and some more recent ideas from modern philosophy. Finally I'll connect it all with the idea of existential risk (a threat that either destroys humanity entirely or prevents any chance of civilization recovering) and its consequences on an individual capability to establish a meaningful life.
The story is about a Sumerian King named Gilgamesh who performed heroic deeds like defeating the monster Humbaba or spurning the advances of the goddess of love and war, Ishtar. For me, the critical part of the tale is when his close companion, Enkidu, is sentenced to death by the gods. Gilgamesh's distress at the death of his friend and his more general fear of mortality set him on a perilous journey to find the secret of eternal life.
He eventually finds the immortal man Utnapishtim who was granted immortality by the gods. Gilgamesh finds that despite Utnapishtim's apparent immortality, he appears no different from Gilgamesh himself. He asks the man to tell the story of how he acquired eternal life. Utnapishtim explains that the god Enlil decided to send a great flood. To save him, another god Ea gives him instruction to build a boat which held his family and 'all the animals of the field' . The storm lasted six days and nights, after which all humans 'were turned to clay'. Enlil, with great regret for the destruction he wrought, blesses Utnapishtim and his wife with immortality for their role in ensuring the survival of life.
Before proceeding I'd just like to point out how cool it is that one of the world's oldest stories contains another even older story embedded within it ( Inception eat your heart out). In my mind Utnapishtim's tale is illustrates to Gilgamesh that immortality is a unique gift, not meant for even the greatest of kings. Death is the fate of all men, Gilgamesh included. Failing his quest, he eventually returns home with Utnapishtim's ferryman Urshanabi. Understanding finally that he will someday die, he points to the walls of his great city Uruk says the quote found at the top of this post. The walls of Uruk symbolize the works of man and the lasting immortality that can be achieved through performing great deeds. Ironically Gilgamesh, in doing great deeds and being a wise and powerful king, cemented his legacy and was immortalised in cuneiform words etched on stone tablets which survived for millennia.
Above picture by Samantha from Indonesia (Gilgamesh) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
The story is about a Sumerian King named Gilgamesh who performed heroic deeds like defeating the monster Humbaba or spurning the advances of the goddess of love and war, Ishtar. For me, the critical part of the tale is when his close companion, Enkidu, is sentenced to death by the gods. Gilgamesh's distress at the death of his friend and his more general fear of mortality set him on a perilous journey to find the secret of eternal life.
He eventually finds the immortal man Utnapishtim who was granted immortality by the gods. Gilgamesh finds that despite Utnapishtim's apparent immortality, he appears no different from Gilgamesh himself. He asks the man to tell the story of how he acquired eternal life. Utnapishtim explains that the god Enlil decided to send a great flood. To save him, another god Ea gives him instruction to build a boat which held his family and 'all the animals of the field' . The storm lasted six days and nights, after which all humans 'were turned to clay'. Enlil, with great regret for the destruction he wrought, blesses Utnapishtim and his wife with immortality for their role in ensuring the survival of life.
Before proceeding I'd just like to point out how cool it is that one of the world's oldest stories contains another even older story embedded within it ( Inception eat your heart out). In my mind Utnapishtim's tale is illustrates to Gilgamesh that immortality is a unique gift, not meant for even the greatest of kings. Death is the fate of all men, Gilgamesh included. Failing his quest, he eventually returns home with Utnapishtim's ferryman Urshanabi. Understanding finally that he will someday die, he points to the walls of his great city Uruk says the quote found at the top of this post. The walls of Uruk symbolize the works of man and the lasting immortality that can be achieved through performing great deeds. Ironically Gilgamesh, in doing great deeds and being a wise and powerful king, cemented his legacy and was immortalised in cuneiform words etched on stone tablets which survived for millennia.
Above picture by Samantha from Indonesia (Gilgamesh) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
What's touched upon in the short summary I provided is the idea of legacy, of achieving immortality through works. It's nearly identical to Machiavelli's concept of glory which he talks about in his unjustly infamous work, The Prince. Glory to Machiavelli is a sort of 'trans-temporal good' which allows one to live on in history (Owen). Glory is what incentivizes good men (from a Christian/Kantian standpoint) to perform immoral acts and motivates bad men to perform moral acts in service of a greater goal: the preservation of the city and civilisation. Despite all the criticism of his standpoint in the Prince as taking an amoral position, it seems like Machiavelli drew upon a far more ancient idea of morality than the deontological standards that his contemporaries judged him by.
As the idea of glory has antecedents, it also has modern iterations which are less bound to the exclusive domain of princes and political leaders. Ernest Partridge labels the desire to 'extend one's influence beyond one's lifetime' as a 'basic human need' (not sure if I'd go that far) called self-transcendence. He suggests that, due to a combination of human psychology and social experience, human beings identify and seek to further the well-being, preservation, and endurance of communities, institutions, artefacts, ideals and so on that are outside themselves and that they hope will flourish beyond their own lifetimes. 'This desire is evident in arrangements for posthumous publications, in bequests and wills, in perpetual trusts (such as the Nobel Prize), and so forth'. Our ill feelings toward death seem to be soothed by the idea that our loved ones will remember us after we die or that life will simply go on. Our lives, in this view, derive meaning from the potential generations to come.
How does one respond to the possibility of existential risk then? There are numerous sources of threat which can result in the end of the human species: asteroids, nuclear war, climate change, depletion of natural resources. We could become extinct abruptly or it could occur gradually. If humans stopped reproducing right now then we would become extinct in a little over a hundred years (the maximum lifespan of someone currently alive). There's certainly a very real possibility that we've increased our chances of extinction in the past century through a combination of technological advances and unsustainable global production systems. Given that we very well be the last few generations of humans to ever exist, what does that mean for our ability to find value in our personal lives?
Above picture attributed to Santi di Tito [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
As the idea of glory has antecedents, it also has modern iterations which are less bound to the exclusive domain of princes and political leaders. Ernest Partridge labels the desire to 'extend one's influence beyond one's lifetime' as a 'basic human need' (not sure if I'd go that far) called self-transcendence. He suggests that, due to a combination of human psychology and social experience, human beings identify and seek to further the well-being, preservation, and endurance of communities, institutions, artefacts, ideals and so on that are outside themselves and that they hope will flourish beyond their own lifetimes. 'This desire is evident in arrangements for posthumous publications, in bequests and wills, in perpetual trusts (such as the Nobel Prize), and so forth'. Our ill feelings toward death seem to be soothed by the idea that our loved ones will remember us after we die or that life will simply go on. Our lives, in this view, derive meaning from the potential generations to come.
How does one respond to the possibility of existential risk then? There are numerous sources of threat which can result in the end of the human species: asteroids, nuclear war, climate change, depletion of natural resources. We could become extinct abruptly or it could occur gradually. If humans stopped reproducing right now then we would become extinct in a little over a hundred years (the maximum lifespan of someone currently alive). There's certainly a very real possibility that we've increased our chances of extinction in the past century through a combination of technological advances and unsustainable global production systems. Given that we very well be the last few generations of humans to ever exist, what does that mean for our ability to find value in our personal lives?
Above picture attributed to Santi di Tito [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Gilgamesh, whither are you wandering? Life, which you look for, you will never find. For when the gods created man, they let death be his share, and life withheld in their own hands. Gilgamesh, fill your belly. Day and night make merry. Let days be full of joy, dance and make music day and night. And wear fresh clothes. And wash your head and bathe. Look at the child that is holding your hand, and let your wife delight in your embrace. These things alone are the concern of men.
Siduri to Gilgamesh
Interestingly enough, the answer/s to this modern concern, may lie etched in cuneiform on a dozen old stone tablets. While Gilgamesh is on a quest for immortality he meets a woman named Siduri who urges him to forsake his quest. She says the quote found on the top of the page telling him that the 'gods let death be his share' and that he instead should focus on the transient joys of life: filling one's belly, making merry, and enjoying the company of one's family. The approach she suggests is certainly hedonistic but it is not excessive or extravagant. The pleasures of friends, family, and food are simple and enduring. Are they really enough however to makes one's life meaningful? The thesis of the film Children of Men suggests otherwise.
Alternatively we may find an answer in the tale of Utnapishtim, who received immortality by rescuing life from the great flood. In acting to build boat he effectively saves the lives of the only his family and the current beasts of the field but to all future generations of human beings and animals. The immortality of Utnapishtim could be interpreted to be a genetic immortality as his gene live on in his descendants. It could also be interpreted that he extended his finite existence by preserving the 'beasts of the fields'. If he is to self-identify with life itself instead of just his own life then then its propagation is his preservation. Utnapishtim could be seen as gaining immortality through allowing life to continue to flourish on earth. This lesson of Gilgamesh would direct us to do our utmost to mitigate the risks of human extinction. The only issue however is that in the long-run, no matter all our efforts, human beings will inevitably cease to exist. Even if we avoid all the various human-caused extinction scenarios, the Earth will most likely be destroyed by the Sun becoming a red giant. Even if we escaped that there's always the rolling threat of entropy and heat death awaiting us at the end of time.
So where does that leave us? Perhaps predictably in a state of uncertainty. Death is a difficult concept to deal with on a personal level and even more terrifying on a species or planet-wide scale. Gilgamesh's twin prescriptions of appreciating the transient pleasures of life and fighting for its continued flourishing in the face of annihilation both seem to be credible responses to the challenge of mortality. We continue to build walls like the ancient kings who built the walls of Uruk. Not because it will the last the ages but because it promises to protect the people within and allows them the chance to flourish.
Above photo by Mike Peel (www.mikepeel.net). [CC-BY-SA-4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
Alternatively we may find an answer in the tale of Utnapishtim, who received immortality by rescuing life from the great flood. In acting to build boat he effectively saves the lives of the only his family and the current beasts of the field but to all future generations of human beings and animals. The immortality of Utnapishtim could be interpreted to be a genetic immortality as his gene live on in his descendants. It could also be interpreted that he extended his finite existence by preserving the 'beasts of the fields'. If he is to self-identify with life itself instead of just his own life then then its propagation is his preservation. Utnapishtim could be seen as gaining immortality through allowing life to continue to flourish on earth. This lesson of Gilgamesh would direct us to do our utmost to mitigate the risks of human extinction. The only issue however is that in the long-run, no matter all our efforts, human beings will inevitably cease to exist. Even if we avoid all the various human-caused extinction scenarios, the Earth will most likely be destroyed by the Sun becoming a red giant. Even if we escaped that there's always the rolling threat of entropy and heat death awaiting us at the end of time.
So where does that leave us? Perhaps predictably in a state of uncertainty. Death is a difficult concept to deal with on a personal level and even more terrifying on a species or planet-wide scale. Gilgamesh's twin prescriptions of appreciating the transient pleasures of life and fighting for its continued flourishing in the face of annihilation both seem to be credible responses to the challenge of mortality. We continue to build walls like the ancient kings who built the walls of Uruk. Not because it will the last the ages but because it promises to protect the people within and allows them the chance to flourish.
Above photo by Mike Peel (www.mikepeel.net). [CC-BY-SA-4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons