The Stoics: Practical Philosophers
It’s far less common than I would like that one finds philosophical references in ordinary life. How pleasant it is, then, that in recent weeks I’ve seen repeated references to Stoic philosophy: on YouTube, in podcasts, blogs, etc. I’m very much in favor of a more philosophical public, and excited by the thought that non-academics are taking an interest.
So what exactly is Stoicism?
The Origins of Stoicism
Stoicism was a school of philosophical thought that began in ancient Athens. The name “Stoic” comes from the Greek word “stoa”, which refers to an open-air colonnade like the one in the picture above. The Stoics got their start by chatting in a stoa in central Athens. Stoicism became very popular in ancient Rome, before largely dying out around the time of the rise of Christianity. Their ideas did reappear in some notable philosophers later on, including Baruch Spinoza and Immanuel Kant. And who knows, maybe references I’ve seen recently are an indication of a revival!
As I wrote in a previous article, “What is philosophy?”, is itself an interesting (and difficult) philosophical question. Many philosophers today think of the discipline as characterized not by a body of knowledge, but by a kind of activity — namely, subjecting ideas to critical scrutiny. As a description of the field today, that answer is at least heading in the right direction. But, it’s interesting to notice that the character of philosophy (or at least the kind of thing that we call “philosophy”) has changed over the centuries. The Stoics, similarly, didn’t think of philosophy as a body of knowledge. But, much more than contemporary philosophers, they thought of philosophy as a way of life. Stoicism has never been purely academic.
This was actually true of many of the Greco-Roman philosophical schools. In that period, philosophy was in some ways a competitor to religion. To say, “I’m a Stoic/Platonist/Epicurean” in ancient Athens or Rome, would have been a bit like saying “I’m a Christian/Muslim/Jew” today. Another way in which Greco-Roman philosophy was more like religion and less like contemporary philosophy is that the philosophical “schools” were fairly doctrinal — you might even say dogmatic. We can imagine them saying things like, “We Platonists believe X, Y, and Z. Those Epicureans believe P, Q, and R. You can take your pick.” In other words, the schools , like religions, had sets of canonical texts and beliefs, the embracing of which were in some way constitutive of one’s membership in the school.
Stoicism, however, was especially practically-oriented. One famous Stoic text is Epictetus’ Enchiridion—which translates as “handbook”—and is basically a series of advice-giving aphorisms. Perhaps the most famous Stoic text, The Meditations, was written by the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius and was, in effect, his diary. Contrast these with the works of Aristotle, whose writings we have in the form of what are basically lecture notes. They are treatises on all manner of subjects, many of them fairly arcane. Of course the Stoics too had views about the way that the universe works, and about logic, epistemology and so on. But, these other fields were intended to support their ethics. They provided the theoretical foundations for the practical lessons on how to live your life. Stoic philosophy, they analogized, is like a garden: the physics make up the fertile earth in which the plants grow, the logic is like a fence protecting the land, and the ethics are the tasty fruits. The whole arrangement is geared towards the production of that last element because, ultimately, Stoicism is all about how to live.
(An interesting question for contemporary Stoics is how much of the ethical theory we can borrow without also accepting the physical and logical theories. Today we would reject much of what the ancient Stoics thought about the way that the universe works. So, how much of their ethics is still available to us? One really interesting contemporary applications of Stoic ethics is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which a fairly common treatment for mental disorders.)
The Stoic Lifestyle
Embracing the Stoic philosophy was thought to be a deeply transformative process. Rather like Christianity has saints, the Stoics had an idealized figure called “the Sage”, whom one was to emulate. The Stoic view was that the goal, or telos, of life is happiness. Happiness, for them, was characterized by one’s living “in accordance with the principles of nature.” In rough terms this means living in accordance with “human nature”, which they took to be our nature as rational, social animals. For the Greeks something’s “nature” was it’s telos, it’s highest end, what it would become under ideal conditions. Human nature — the human telos — is what a person would become under ideal conditions. They would be come a “sage”.
The Stoics understood human happiness (our telos) to be a kind of peace of mind, or tranquility. An idea you see repeatedly in Stoic writings is the distinction between that which is in one’s control, and that which is not. A central piece of Stoic advice is: “Stop worrying so much about what you can’t control.” There’s no point in stressing about misfortunes that may befall you, if there’s nothing you can do anyways. Epictetus, in an excellent display of Stoic humor, wrote:
“I have to die. If it is now, well then I die now; if later, then now I will take my lunch, since the hour for lunch has arrived — and dying I will tend to later.” (Discourses I, 1, 32)
One interesting, and perhaps surprising, upshot of this lesson is that regret is pointless. To regret something is to be upset (for your peace of mind to be disturbed) by something in the past. Since you can’t change the past, you shouldn’t let it bother you. That said, you can learn from the past. You can control what you do in the future. Thus, the Stoic advice would be: “Stop stressing about the past. Just don’t forget to learn from it.”
The Stoics like, all Greco-Romans, were virtue ethicists. Their four virtues are actually the same as the four cardinal Christian virtues: wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance. (The overlap is no coincidence. They were “borrowed”.) The Stoics struck, what seems to me to be, a nice balance between several competing visions of the good life. Aristotelians thought that the exercise of the virtues, and therefor the good life, required one to have a lot of things that aren’t under ones control: health, wealth, education, etc. Another philosophical school, the Cynics, thought that such things were utterly irrelevant to virtue. In fact, they thought that these things would probably make your life worse. (See here if you’re interested in why they thought this.) The Stoics, on the other hand, called things like wealth, health and education “preferred indifferents”. This sounds a bit like a contradiction. But, what it meant was something like “nice-to-haves”. According to the Stoics, one can be perfectly virtuous, and have a perfectly good life without things like wealth or education. But, of course, they are nice to have. They make life better, even if they aren’t strictly necessary for a good life. “If you have the opportunity to experience those things,” they would say, “good for you. But, don’t forget what’s really important. Don’t think that health and wealth are yours to keep.”
The Stoics recognized, as we all have, that the thwarting of desires is painful. In the history of “Western” civilization, the most common response to this problem has been the attempt to satisfy as many desires as possible. To take an economic analogy, the standard response is to maximize production, so as to keep up with demand. On the other hand, the Stoic response to this problem (also the Buddhist response, by the way) is to cut down the demand. Since it’s so hard to control whether or not your desires are satisfied, the Stoics thought that a better strategy is to have fewer desires. At least, you should avoid those that you cannot be sure (or, maybe, almost sure) that you can satisfy.
I am personally a little skeptical of this response. It seems unlikely that, as products of evolutionary processes, we really could significantly reduce the number of things that we desire. There are a great many things that we simply cannot help but want: food, warmth, company, etc. That said, it does seem right that a lot of suffering is a result of people desiring things that they will never attain. This is a classic literary motif, after all. It’s the essence of tragedy, as it were. So there is some wisdom, I think, in rejecting or discouraging certain kinds of desires — at least to the extent that this is under one’s control.
Some Daily Stoic Practices
- Meditation: Take 10 minutes at the very start of your day to plan out what you will accomplish, what virtues you will display, and how you will ensure that you maintain your tranquility in a chaotic world. Take another 10 minutes, before going to sleep, to review your day. Ask yourself what went well and what didn’t. In what ways did you display virtue? What can you learn from any failures? (Remember not to regret failures; only learn from them.)
- Anticipating Adversity: Take some time to think about (even visualize) some adversities that you may face. If you prepare yourself for them, then they won’t be a shock or surprise if they do happen. This practice will enable you to maintain peace of mind in the face of adversity. This practice can be as extreme as visualizing your own death. Or it can be as mild as reminding yourself about the jerks that you’ll see in traffic. One version of this practice comes from Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations (II, 1). I do a variant of this practice every morning. I think to myself: “Today I’m going to run into people who are stressed, frustrated, bored, busy, over-worked, rude, ignorant, selfish, insensitive, or troublesome in some other way. They will be having problems. But I won’t allow them to make their problems my problems. I’m going to respond to each and every one of these people with loving kindness.”
- Backing off of Blame: When someone does something that bothers you (cuts you off, says something rude, snubs you in some way), ask yourself: “Have I ever done that to someone? Have I done something worse?” It’s easier to forgive and forget when you recognize that you could have just as easily been the offender instead of the offended.
- The View From Above: Start by imagining yourself sitting in a room alone. Then imagine the building that the room is in. Then imagine the block that the building is on. Then, the city, the country, and finally the whole world or even the whole universe. This expanding perspective on the universe can give you a great sense of the scale of your problems. It puts them into perspective. You are a very small part of a very, very large universe, and you’re lucky to be here.
- Practicing Poverty: If you stress about material success, once a year, try spending a few days living as if you had next to nothing. Wear your plainest clothes. Eat the cheapest food. Spend as little as possible. Then, ask yourself, “Is this the condition I so feared?” You’ll probably find that it isn’t as bad as you thought.
- Respond to Insults with Humor: This one is self explanatory when supported with one of my favorite lines from the Enchiridion:
If you learn that someone is speaking ill of you, don’t try to defend yourself against the rumors; respond instead with, ‘Yes, and he doesn’t know the half of it, because he could have said more.’ (Enchiridion XXXIII, 9)
