Straton's audio logs

"Hologram" of Straton of Stageira

Straton's audio logs are twelve recordings made by Straton of Stageira. The player acquires an audio log by touching what appears to be a hologram of Straton sitting in a pensive pose. This causes the figure of Straton to disappear, and the player hears one of the audio logs. The logs can later be heard again from the Interface research tab.

The audio logs are unlocked in sequence; there is no correspondence between an area and a specific log. See each individual area page for information about where to find its Straton hologram.

Straton 1

Straton defines the Talos Principle

Whether it is true that Daedalus constructed the giant Talos, or as others say he was the creation of Hephaestus, what we may be certain of is that he was made of bronze, and had but one vein, within which flowed a liquid substance like blood, which some claim was quicksilver, and others assert was ichor such as flows in the veins of the gods. The loss of that liquid caused him to die, as a man dies when he loses his blood. May we not then say that Talos, though created as a machine or a toy, had all the essential properties of a man? He moved of his own volition. He spoke and could be spoken to, had wishes and desires. Indeed in the tale of the Argonauts, that was the cause of his downfall.

If, then, a machine may have all the properties of a man, and act as a man while driven only by the ingenious plan of its construction and the interaction of its materials according to the principles of nature, then does it not follow that man may also be seen as a machine? This contradicts all the schools of metaphysics, yet even the most faithful philosopher cannot live without his blood.

Straton 2

Straton extends the Talos Principle.

We begin with the self because that is what determines our existence as individuals; but the self cannot exist without that which surrounds it. The citizen lives within the city; and the city lives within the cosmos. So now we must apply the principle we have discovered to the wider world, and ask: if man is like a machine, could it be that the universe is similar in nature? And if so, what follows from that fact?

Straton 3

Straton considers the nature of the city.

Let us consider the city. What is a city? It is not a gift from the gods, nor the product of Nature. Unlike a mountain or river, it is something that must be built through deliberate arrangements of material by a mind imposing order on the world; and it is built to serve a purpose. To that end it has roads and fountains and walls; and to the same end it has laws and leaders. And though each city is built according to a different plan, all cities must serve their purpose, or they will fall and become ruins. Therefore we may conclude that a city is also a kind of machine, constructed to improve the life of its citizens.

Straton 4

Straton on the journey of philosophy.

To us who have only just begun this journey of philosophy, the world may seem like a mystery that can never be solved. A great deal has been written since the days of the Seven Sages, but how much of it is truth, and how much idle speculation? I have offended many by saying that most philosophy will, as the centuries pass, be discarded as foolishness and superstition, but it is a truth only philosophers fail to see. And yet we cannot abandon reason and conclude that we cannot know anything. Rather we must accept that the journey towards understanding will be long, and our task is to build a foundation for those who will one day arrive at its destination.

Straton 5

Straton speaks about freedom.

What is freedom? Is it merely to be ruled by those who speak one’s own language or share one’s customs? No, that is merely a more convenient servitude. Is it to have no obligations, no loyalties? No, that is not to be free, but to be alone. What of freedom from hunger and thirst? Here we are closer to the truth, for freedom requires life; but one may have all the meat and all the wine in the world and still not be free. The most important freedom of all is the freedom to speak one’s mind; to make one’s thoughts public without fear; and so participate openly and boldly in democracy. It is the freedom of the dissenter and the gadfly, the rebel and the fool, that is the measure of whether a city is free.

Straton 6

Straton asks what the city owes to the citizen.

We have of late been told much about what the citizen owes the city: loyalty, obedience, gratitude. And I will not argue with those who say that without some loyalty to a greater good, a man is little more than a savage; and I will even say that these days there are more savages amongst us than amongst the barbarians, who we call savages out of ignorance and arrogance. But there is another question that we are rarely encouraged to ask: what does the city owe the citizen? What must it offer to earn loyalty, obedience, and gratitude?  And if, as we said have said, a city is a kind of machine; should a machine that does not fulfill its purpose perhaps be repaired… or replaced?

Straton 7

Straton considers the invisible forces in our lives.

The world we see around us may not always be as it appears. Some philosophers have said that we are surrounded by nothingness, merely because air is not visible to the eye; and yet one needs only to observe the wind in the trees, or to plunge one’s hand into the clear waters of the Aegean, to see that air has material substance. The same applies to many other forces that shape our lives. That they seem invisible does not mean that they are absent; it only means that we have not yet learned how to observe them. And yet… lately I have struggled to understand what I am seeing. This strange, insubstantial island… these machine men… this woman with a fierce voice like an Amazon… who are they? How did I get here?

Straton 8

Straton on the difficulty of standing up for one's principles.

It is easy to speak of one’s principles when the world is at peace, and there is no price to pay for thoughts that stray from what is permitted. But when times grow hard, and even ordinary men are filled with mindless anger, when the face of the enemy is suddenly known to every virtuous citizen, and to question to virtuous is to be likened to Ephialtes… when every hoary old superstition suddenly springs back to life as if it had never been defeated, and all the work of the philosophers seems to have been for nought… then one may discover what one truly believes.

Straton 9

Straton ponders the mysteries that surround him.

I see these beings, these children of a future age, wandering around an island more fantastical than Atlantis itself, looking desperately to find themselves. I reach out to them, but they cannot see me. I speak to them, but I do not know if they can hear me. Am I being punished? Are the gods playing some cruel trick on me? Why can I remember so little? What is this sorrowful voice I hear, whispering such terrible thoughts? I must use what remains of my mind. I must… understand.

Straton 10

Straton considers whether he lived a good life.

What did it mean, in the end, to be Straton? To have few friends and many enemies? To write harsh words because it seemed necessary? To pursue the truth at the expense of all else, of family, of love… to pursue that one principle to the point of… of death. Is that what I was? A life lived against the tides of history, broken, jagged, unrelenting? Not a kind old man beloved of his children and then forgotten, but a thorn, a rock in a show, insisting on the truth until it becomes a hideous, frightening thing that cannot be tolerated even by those who agree with it? Was that a good life?

Straton 11

Straton wonders what would make a good life possible.

Perhaps for the life of an individual citizen to be good, first the city itself must be good. Perhaps even the cosmos itself must be made better, before such a thing as a good life is truly possible. These insubstantial creatures that walk through my thoughts – perhaps they can live that life. They are, after all, human beings like myself. This much I have understood. Is that why they have summoned me? Can I somehow bring them into this world, make them real… Or am I… No…

Straton 12

Straton faces his end.

I have considered the visions that have plagued me on this strange journey, this insubstantial pageant all around me, and I have asked myself: is this Hades? Are these the Blessed Isles? For I never believed such things existed, except by made by the hands of the living. The conclusion I have come to frightens me, but I must face it. It is not this island that is insubstantial, but I. Straton of Stageira is dead; he has been dead for many ages of the world. I am a ghost; a flicker of memory, soon to be extinguished. And yet I am pleased. Perhaps I did not live a good life; but I lived a necessary one. I am gone, but humankind abides, and the flame of Prometheus still burns. In its bright light, I will rest easy, knowing that my work is accomplished.