Life of Bata Blogs

R. said, "that would be definition Meno offered in the beginning where every activity can have its best way to practice it, shining the lights of the virtue for that activity. However, Socrates wanted to find the essence of the virtue, therefore imagining something beyond those, not?"

A. said, "I think Socrates pulled his own recollection technique to get himself out of the wrong conclusion of what virtue is. Right after he starts trying to understand what made the virtues Pericles and other merchants and statesmen who were known for possessing virtue, he stumbled upon asking questions that were not directly related to what virtue is but to the questions of could it be taught and have these great men being able to teach and show to their children their virtue and how to practice it."

Z. said, "What is virtue? Is it knowledge? Could you learn this? When I teach my students, memorization doesn't help them but understanding of the why helps them to achieve success. Every student seems to have the internal urge to organize and make sense of things as I see them put together toys and categorize them into different bins by their color or kinds. It is not the matter of just teaching and learning what virtue is but it is about practicing that virtue as you have understood the different why. Students all show the potential for greatness and good. Even we see it in the movies, some characters start off being very good people, but things happen and they corrupt. The virtue must be a practice and way of life. It probably cannot be taught. I see it in my students. They come with their gifts and weaknesses. For every student, the path for growth and what virtue means is different for them. For some it is the patience. For some it is the courage."

N. said, "Did Socrates conclude that virtue is divine and it cannot be taught, it is a form of knowledge but we don't know what the essence of it is even though we get little close to it with thoughtfulness, courage, kindness, and prudence? This dialog helped us to learn what the Socratic method is. But we are still perplexed as the numbing fish Socrates did his questionings."

I thought there is promise to good life through that pursuit to possess virtue and seek human greatness. That human excellence opportunity exists and "Will to Truth" could be helped with the Socratic method. Seeking the truth and understanding might help us reach the virtue as we question and recall what we know and what we need to know to ask better questions. Gaining virtue unfortunately might not be knowledge therefore something that can be assisted by the Will to Truth and Socratic methods. As Socrates remembers, "Spartans say that man is divine." There needs to be strength in the heart that is nurtured by the environment and good friends who lead you to your better side, helping you win the battle against yourself.

There I remembered Nietzsche's quote I have on my notepad in the shower that goes, "anything that is weakening is depriving, anything that is empowering is [good?]" If someone wants to possess and learn virtue, you really need to focus on what empowers you and try to stay away from anything that weakens you so that you might end up acting virtuous at the right time. We shall will it to power and rise to virtue, enabling us to fight corruptive effects on our character. Nietzsche's Twilight of the Idols clearly reminds us to be aware of what causes what. Is it virtue that produces happiness or happiness that causes virtue? Seeking virtue to be happy and powerful in our self-discipline and autonomy might have been wrong direction of causation all this time. When I think of myself, whenever I was less stressed and happy, I was more virtuous in my character. Whenever I was stressed and trying hard, I made more mistakes. So I think if you want to have virtue and live with virtue, will it to power! As you will it to power, you will have the virtue to will it to Truth. However, this conclusion I have in my head might be just wrong. Time will tell.

Sophocles’ King Oedipus shook me. It made me question free will, the age of innocence, and the old way of assigning blame without fully understanding others. What struck me most was how the characters in King Oedipus seem so assured of their own and others’ impulses—so certain of their reasoning, their conclusions, their understanding of the world. They assume intentions with unwavering confidence, acting as though every decision is clear-cut, every motive obvious. This is radically different from the characters in Hamlet, who are paralyzed by introspection, self-doubt, and hesitation.

It is a stark contrast in worldview—one where the past is an immutable script, fate an inescapable force, and human action merely an unfolding of an already written story. The modern mind, like Hamlet’s, is burdened by the weight of possibilities, while Oedipus and those around him act with an unflinching belief in the certainty of things.

The World of King Oedipus: A Place of Certainty

From the very beginning of the play, Oedipus does not hesitate. The city is plagued, and he seeks to uncover why. The priest approaches him, saying:
"Oedipus, ruler of my land, you see the age of those who sit on your altars… For the city, as you yourself see, is now sorely vexed, and can no longer lift her head from beneath the angry waves of death." (Oedipus the Tyrant, 14)

Oedipus does not waver. He immediately declares,
"Be sure that I will gladly give you all my help. I would be hard-hearted indeed if I did not pity such suppliants as these." (14)

He does not pause to reflect on the limitations of human knowledge or question his ability to solve the crisis—he acts, and he does so with certainty. His resolve is unwavering when he proclaims:
"I will start afresh, and once more make dark things plain… I will uphold this cause, as though it were that of my own father, and will leave no stone unturned in my search for the one who shed the blood." (132)

This certainty extends beyond Oedipus himself. The entire world of the play assumes that things happen for a reason, that the gods dictate fate, and that actions are explainable with black-and-white precision. When Tiresias hesitates to reveal the truth, Oedipus does not question the nature of prophecy or the limits of human knowledge—he simply assumes a conspiracy, declaring:
"You blame my anger, but do not perceive your own: no, you blame me." (330)

There is no hesitation, no second-guessing. Actions are interpreted as clear, intentions are presumed, and consequences are met with stoic acceptance once revealed.

Contrast with Hamlet: The Age of Uncertainty

Compare this to Hamlet, where almost every action is delayed by introspection. Hamlet’s defining feature is hesitation. His famous soliloquy—"To be, or not to be, that is the question"—is the complete opposite of Oedipus’s immediate action. Oedipus does not ask whether he should act; he acts. Hamlet, on the other hand, wonders if he should do anything at all.

When Oedipus is accused, he retaliates with a full-fledged accusation. When Hamlet is presented with a possible truth—that Claudius killed his father—he devises a test, a play within a play, to confirm it. Hamlet distrusts certainty. Oedipus assumes it.

Even when faced with absolute proof, Hamlet still hesitates. He catches Claudius praying and debates whether he should kill him right then and there. Oedipus, by contrast, does not hesitate for a moment when he believes Creon has betrayed him—he moves straight to threats:
"Hardly. I desire your death, not your exile." (616)

Oedipus assumes treachery. Hamlet questions whether treachery exists at all.

The Cultural Difference: A World Without Innocence

This certainty in King Oedipus is not just a personality trait—it reflects a different way of seeing the world. In ancient Greece, everything had a place, an order. Fate was clear, and so were human actions. People acted out of self-interest, and that self-interest was an accepted and expected truth. When Oedipus demands answers, no one stops to wonder if the question itself is flawed. He accuses Creon outright of treason, and Creon responds not with Hamlet-like defensiveness, but with a logical counterargument:
"Weigh this first—whether you think that anyone would choose to rule amid terrors rather than in unruffled peace, granted that he is to have the same powers." (583)

Creon is logical, not introspective. He does not say, "I wonder if I could have done something to give that impression." He simply lays out the facts: Why would I do this? It makes no sense.

Today, we live in a world of nuance. We assume good intentions. We analyze, second-guess, and hesitate before jumping to conclusions. But in the world of King Oedipus, there is no such hesitation. If someone has done something, their intent is clear. Jocasta, pleading with Oedipus, begs him:
"Unhappy men! Why have you made this crazy uproar? … Stop making all this noise about some petty thing." (649)

To her, this is not the unraveling of some great metaphysical truth—it is a pointless argument. The characters do not wrestle with their inner selves the way Hamlet does. Even when Oedipus realizes the truth, there is no reflection—only action. He blinds himself without questioning whether this is the best response. He simply declares:
"It is better to be blind. What sight is there that could give me joy?" (1367)

The Legacy of King Oedipus: A World Before Doubt

The world of King Oedipus is a world before the age of innocence. It is a world that assumes people act in self-interest, that the world has a rigid order, and that everything—fate, human motives, divine justice—is explainable with certainty. In contrast, Hamlet exists in a world of ambiguity, where humans are unpredictable, where good and evil blur, where action is never quite justified.

This might explain why King Oedipus still feels so alien to modern audiences. It operates on an assumption we no longer share—that certainty is possible. The play assumes, without question, that if a man commits a crime, he must be punished. No room for doubt, no space for subjective interpretation. Hamlet, by contrast, spends the entire play trying to justify one action, and even then, he only takes it at the last possible moment, when all other options have disappeared.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of Oedipus is not his fate, but his certainty. The belief that he must uncover the truth, that he must act, that he must punish himself. Today, we might tell Oedipus to step back, to reflect, to seek therapy instead of punishment. But in his world, there is only one response: clarity, action, consequence.

Observations of Celestial Motion

• Regular Circular Motions: Ptolemy observes that the fixed stars move in perfectly circular paths. Their steady, unvarying motion suggests an underlying geometric order. This regularity is most easily explained if the stars are fixed on a rotating celestial sphere.
• Variation in Circle Sizes: He also notes that stars near the celestial pole trace smaller circles, while those farther away describe larger ones. This pattern fits exactly with what we expect on a spherical surface, where circles centered on the pole shrink as one moves closer to it.

These clear, observable features form the basis of the claim that “the heavens move like a sphere.”

Key Elements Considered in Ptolemy’s Studies

• Fixed Stars: These stars serve as the permanent backdrop. Their constant, circular motion is taken as evidence that they are embedded on a single, rotating sphere.
• Moving Stars (Planets): In contrast, the planets—often called “wandering stars”—follow more complex paths. While Ptolemy later explains these motions using additional tools like epicycles, the core idea remains that they too move on or within a spherical framework.
• The Earth, Sun, and Moon: Besides the stars, Ptolemy also examines the motions of the Sun and Moon. Their observed paths (especially the Sun’s motion along the ecliptic) further support a geocentric model in which the Earth is immobile at the center of the spherical heavens.

By analyzing these components, Ptolemy builds a consistent picture where the diverse motions of the celestial bodies can be seen as variations on a single, unified geometric theme.

Theories Explaining How Celestial Objects Move

Ptolemy and his predecessors considered several models for celestial motion:

1. Spherical Heavens Centered on the Earth: This is the favored model. It posits that the heavens form a complete, rotating sphere with the Earth fixed at its center. On a sphere, the variation in the sizes of the stars’ circular paths arises naturally. This model is simple and directly matches the observations.

2. Alternative Cosmic Arrangements: Other models were proposed, including:

• Flat or Dome-Like Configurations: These models had difficulty explaining why stars near the pole would trace smaller circles than those farther away.
• Complex Geometrical Constructions (Nested Spheres, Epicycles): While these could mathematically reproduce the observed motions, they required additional assumptions and lacked the natural elegance of the spherical model.

3. Additional Proposals:

Some thinkers suggested more radical ideas:

• Heavens Moving in a Straight Line: This theory posited that the heavens might move in a straight line instead of circular paths, but it fails to account for the recurring, closed loops observed.
• Heavens That “Kindle and Then Die”: Another idea was that the celestial bodies were transient, igniting and then extinguishing in cycles. However, such a process would not match the constant, enduring appearance of the stars.

After evaluating these options, Ptolemy rejected the alternatives on both observational and logical grounds. Only the geocentric spherical model naturally reproduces the regular motions seen in the heavens.

To conclude: 

Chapter 3 of the Almagest delivers a clear message: the celestial sphere is a complete, rotating sphere. Ptolemy shows that the regular circular motions and the systematic variation in circle sizes among the stars are best explained by this spherical model. By considering fixed stars, the planets, and the motions of the Sun and Moon, he builds a coherent, unified picture of the cosmos. This chapter leaves us with a simple, yet powerful insight: the universe, as seen from Earth, is governed by the natural, inevitable geometry of a sphere.

I’ve been diving into The Almagest, translated by G.J. Toomer, and the first chapter gave me deep insights into philosophy, mathematics, and the nature of knowledge. Here are my key takeaways:

1️⃣ The Divide Between Practical and Theoretical Philosophy

Philosophy is divided into two parts: practical and theoretical. Practical philosophy can often be learned through experience—people can possess moral virtues without formal teaching. Theoretical philosophy, on the other hand, requires instruction and study. Practical wisdom improves through action, while theoretical knowledge grows through deep inquiry.

2️⃣ Mathematics as the Most Certain Knowledge

The discussion highlights three divisions of theoretical philosophy: physics, mathematics, and theology. Physics studies the material and changing world, making it unstable and uncertain. Theology deals with what is beyond perception, making it speculative. Mathematics, however, remains unchanging, eternal, and the most reliable form of knowledge. It serves as a bridge between the material and the divine, capable of supporting both physics and theology.

3️⃣ Mathematics as Our Language for the Physical World

One passage that truly stood out to me was:

"As for physics, mathematics can make a significant contribution. For almost every peculiar attribute of matter becomes apparent from peculiarities of its motion from place to place. Thus, one can distinguish the corruptible from the incorruptible—whether it undergoes motion in a straight line or in a circle, heavy from light, or passive from active, whether it moves towards the center or away from the center."

This is a beautiful description of how mathematics allows us to describe the nature of the physical world—how we categorize motion, weight, and forces. Mathematics has been our human language for encoding the attributes and qualities of reality. But now, with the rise of AI and machine learning, we are seeing a new way to represent the physical world—through neural network weights.

What if these AI systems, by learning from vast amounts of data, could encode the laws of physics in ways we can’t yet fully comprehend? Could these neural networks serve as a new kind of mathematical language, capturing not just the mechanics of the universe, but perhaps even the deeper truths that theology seeks to understand?

This makes me wonder—are we at the beginning of a paradigm shift in how we define and discover truth? Would love to hear your thoughts!

#Philosophy #Mathematics #AI #MachineLearning #Physics #TheAlmagest #Knowledge #IntellectualGrowth