The Practicing Stoic: A Philosophical User's Manual

by Ward Farnsworth

Comfort and poverty depend on the opinions we have of them; and riches, glory, and health have only as much beauty and pleasure as is attributed to them by their possessor. Each of us is as well or badly off as we believe. The happy are those who think they are, not those who are thought to be so by others; and in this way alone, belief makes itself real and true. Montaigne, That the Taste of Good and Evil Things Depends in Large Part on the Opinion We Have of Them (1580)

These same eyes of yours – which at home won’t even tolerate marble unless it is varied and recently polished . . . which don’t want limestone on the floor unless the tiles are more precious than gold – once outside, those same eyes look calmly at the rough and muddy pathways and the filthy people they mostly meet, and at the walls of the tenement houses that are crumbled, cracked, and crooked. What is it, then, that doesn’t offend your eyes in public but upsets them at home – other than your opinion, which in the one place is easygoing and tolerant, but at home is critical and always complaining? Seneca, On Anger 3.35.5

We have reviewed some specific examples of that cycle, but the point goes beyond any particular case. It isn’t that our reaction to this or that is created by our own minds. It’s that our experience of everything is, and that it is up to us to a greater extent than we usually know. The work of philosophy is to take responsibility for our own thinking, and in so doing to liberate ourselves from the attachments and misjudgments that otherwise dictate our experience.

Pay attention to your impressions, watch over them without sleeping, for what you guard is no small thing: self-respect and fidelity and self-possession, a mind free from emotion, pain, fear, disturbance – in a word, freedom. Epictetus, Discourses 4.3.7

Now that we have determined the cause of these disturbances of the mind – that they all arise from judgments based on opinion, and by choice – let there be an end to this discussion. Besides, now that the boundaries of good and evil have been discovered so far as they are discoverable by man, we ought to realize that nothing can be hoped from philosophy greater or more useful than what we have been discussing for the last four days. For besides instilling a proper contempt for death, and making pain bearable, we have added the calming of grief, as great as any evil known to mankind. . . . For there is one cure for grief and other ills, and it is the same. They are all matters of opinion, and taken up voluntarily because it seems right to do so. This error, as the root of all evils, philosophy promises to eradicate utterly. Let us therefore devote ourselves to its cultivation and submit to being cured; for so long as these evils possess us, not only can we not be happy, we cannot even be right in our minds. Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.38

If Stoics are distinguished by one policy as an everyday matter, it is a refusal to worry about things beyond their control or to otherwise get worked up about them.

equanimity.

We waste our energy on things that aren’t up to us, and are barely conscious of the things that are up to us. Stoicism is the effort to turn that around and to move one’s center of gravity to a more useful location.

The fountain of content must spring up in the mind. . . . He, who has so little knowledge of human nature, as to seek happiness by changing any thing, but his own dispositions, will waste his life in fruitless efforts, and multiply the griefs which he purposes to remove. Johnson, The Rambler no. 6 (1750)

The thought might occur to us, when eating fancy foods, that “this one is the corpse of a fish, this one the corpse of a bird or a pig”; or again, that “this fancy wine is the dribble of a bunch of grapes, and this purple robe is sheep hair dyed with shellfish blood”; or, about copulation, that “this is the rubbing of a little piece of entrail and, along with some convulsion, an excretion of mucus.” Impressions like these are the ones that penetrate to the heart of things themselves and let us see what they really are. We should do the same in all areas of life, and, whenever things appear too highly valued, we should lay them bare in our minds, perceive their cheapness, and strip off the prestige they have traditionally been assigned. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.13

You ask what the finest life span would be? To live until you reach wisdom. The one who gets there has arrived, not at the farthest goal, but at the most important. That man, indeed, may boldly congratulate himself, and give thanks to the gods – and to himself along with them – and count in his reckoning with the universe the fact that he has lived. His account will be in credit: he has given it back a better life than he received. Seneca, Epistles 93.8

There is no reason for you to think anyone has lived long just because he has grey hairs or wrinkles. He has not lived long; he has existed long. For suppose you should imagine that a man had a great voyage when in fact he was caught by a fierce storm as soon as he left harbor, was swept this way and that by strong winds from different directions, and was driven along the same path in circles. He did not make a great voyage. He was greatly tossed about. Seneca, On the Shortness of Life 7.10

The perfection of moral character consists in this: to spend each day as if it were the last, to be neither agitated nor numb, and not to pretend. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.69

We must make it our aim to have already lived long enough. Seneca, Epistles 23.10

Every want that springs, not from any need, but from vice, is of a like character; however much you pile up for it will serve not to end but to advance desire. He who keeps himself within natural limits will not feel poverty; he who exceeds them will be pursued by poverty even amid the greatest wealth.

The philosopher Attalus used to say: “It is more pleasant to make a friend than to have one, as it is more pleasant to the artist to paint than to have painted.” When one is busy and absorbed in one’s work, the very absorption affords great delight; but when one has withdrawn one’s hand from the completed masterpiece, the pleasure is not so keen. Now it is the fruit of his art that he enjoys; it was the art itself that he enjoyed while he was painting. Seneca, Epistles 9.7

Why be awed by the rich or the powerful, especially those who are strong and quick to anger? For what will they do to us? What they can do, we don’t care about; what we care about, they cannot do. Epictetus, Discourses 1.9.20

6. Desires and opinions. We turn from the Stoic diagnosis of desire to the remedies. The most direct antidotes, here and in most cases, are those introduced in the first two chapters of this book. One can work to view the object of a desire accurately, and thus seek detachment from it; attachments to externals are, in general, breeding grounds for envy and other vices. Or one can perceive a desire as just another misjudgment and, if the talent for doing so has been developed, simply dismiss it. To restate the point: the principle of Chapter 1 treats the mind and its opinions as responsible for what we want; it follows that any desire can be satisfied – or addressed, anyway – in two ways. One can go after the object of the desire, or one can get to work on the other half of the problem: the opinion that produces it. Solving the equation in this way (from the right-hand side rather than the left, as we might think of it) is standard Stoic procedure. Freedom is attained not by satisfying desires but by removing them. Epictetus, Discourses 4.1.175 No one can have whatever he wants. What he can do is not want what he doesn’t have, and cheerfully enjoy what comes his way. Seneca, Epistles 123.3

One man prays: “Help me go to bed with that woman.” You pray: “Help me not to lust after going to bed with her.” Another: “Help me be released from that!” You: “Help me not need to be released.” Another: “How shall I not lose my little son?” You: “How shall I not be afraid to lose him?” Turn your prayers this way, and see what happens. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 9.40

Wouldn’t anyone admit how much better it is, instead of working hard to get possession of someone else’s wife, to work hard to restrain your desires; instead of being distressed about money, to train yourself to want little; instead of working to become famous, to work not to thirst for fame; instead of finding a way to hurt someone you envy, to find a way not to envy anyone; and instead of acting as a slave to false friends, as sy...

When any calamity has been suffered, the first thing to be remembered is how much has been escaped. Johnson, Letter to Hester Thrale (1770)

If we were all to bring our misfortunes into a common store, so that each person should receive an equal share in the distribution, the majority would be glad to take up their own and depart. Plutarch, Letter to Apollonius 9 (106b)

8. Useful comparisons to loss. Another valuable comparison considers how desirable the goods we have would seem if they were absent. We saw earlier the role that adaptation plays in creating desires that never end. Getting used to what we have causes us to lose appreciation for it. The Stoics respond by trying to see old things freshly. Instead of changing their possessions, they try to change the way they view them. Don’t imagine having things that you don’t have. Rather, pick the best of the things that you do have and think of how much you would want them if you didn’t have them. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.27 Don’t spoil what’s here by longing for what’s not here, but realize that these too were things to be prayed for. Epicurus, Vatican Sayings 35

Stoicism suggests first that we rethink what we want, how much of it, and why. Stoics value moderation, and they don’t view it as a compromise of pleasures. They regard moderation, rather, as enhancing pleasures – indeed, as making the true and healthy enjoyment of them possible.

The word “detachment” risks creating the wrong impression, since it can connote a lack of real interest in whatever is the subject of it. That isn’t the idea. Detachment refers more to the way in which something is held and to whether the mind has been given over to it in an excessive way. The detachment of the Stoic thus can be viewed as a kind of moderation – that is, moderation in one’s relationship to externals. A good way to test such a relationship, and to know whether you have an attachment to a thing or just a preference about it, is to consider how well you would handle its loss.

“Why does a philosopher say that wealth is to be despised, and yet have it? . . . And why does the philosopher declare that there is no difference between a longer and a shorter life, and then – if nothing stands in the way – prolong his years, and flourish peacefully in green old age?” He says those things are to be despised not in order that he not have them, but in order that he not worry about keeping them. Seneca, On the Happy Life 21.1–2

When you are tempted by some apparent pleasure, guard yourself – just as with other impressions – against being carried away by it. Let the thing wait for you, and give yourself some delay. Then think about two times to come: the time when you will enjoy the pleasure, and the time afterwards when, having enjoyed it, you will regret it and reproach yourself. Compare this with how pleased you will be, and how you will congratulate yourself, if you don’t do it. Still, if it seems that the time is right to do the thing, just take care that the charm and pleasure and attraction of it do not overcome you; compare how much better it is to know you have won this victory against it. Epictetus, Enchiridion 34

The mind must not be kept invariably at the same tension, but must be diverted to amusements. Socrates did not blush to play with little children, Cato would relax his mind with wine when it was wearied by the cares of state, and Scipio would stir his triumphal and soldierly person to the sound of music. Seneca, On Tranquility of Mind 17.4

Seneca acknowledged the value of wine as well, and even of occasional intoxication – moderation in moderation, perhaps – for the freedom it gives the mind and for the access it can provide to insight. His reasoning: Whether we agree with the Greek poet that “sometimes it’s also fun to get a little wild,” or with Plato that “the man in possession of himself knocks in vain at poetry’s gates,” or with Aristotle that “there has been no great genius without some touch of madness” – there can be no lofty utterance, above the commonplace, unless the mind is excited. Seneca, On Tranquility of Mind 17.10

10. Pleasures of the mind. The Stoics give their highest endorsement to the pleasures associated with understanding and wisdom, which might be enjoyed even immoderately without fear of recoil. Stoics regard the mind as the site and the source of true happiness. Those who rate pleasure as the supreme ideal hold that the Good is found by the senses; but we Stoics maintain that it is found by the understanding, and we assign it to the mind. Seneca, Epistles 124.2 It is the mind that makes us rich. It goes with us into exile; and in the most untamed wilderness, when it has found all that the body needs to be sustained, it relishes the enjoyment of its many own goods. Seneca, Consolation to Helvia 11.5 It shows a lack of natural talent to spend much time on bodily activities, as by being excessive in exercise, excessive in eating and drinking, excessive in emptying the bowels and in copulating. These things should be done incidentally, and our attention should be devoted to the mind. Epictetus, Enchiridion 41

As for me, I am happy if the ruling force in my mind is sound, if I do not turn away from anyone, nor any of those things that happen to men, but can look upon all things with kindly eyes, and value everything according to its true worth. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.41

The world in which a man lives shapes itself chiefly by the way in which he looks at it, and so it proves different to different men; to one it is barren, dull, and superficial; to another rich, interesting, and full of meaning. On hearing of the interesting events which have happened in the course of a man’s experience, many people will wish that similar things had happened in their lives too, completely forgetting that they should be envious rather of the mental aptitude which lent those events the significance they possess when he describes them. . . . Since everything which exists or happens for a man exists only in his consciousness and happens for it alone, the most essential thing for a man is the constitution of this consciousness, which is in most cases far more important than the circumstances which go to form its contents. All the pride and pleasure of the world, mirrored in the dull consciousness of a fool, are poor indeed compared with the imagination of Cervantes writing his Don Quixote in a miserable prison. Schopenhauer, The Wisdom of Life (1851)

The first rule of this branch of Stoic teaching is contempt for conformity, for the opinion of the majority, for the habit of looking to others when thinking about what to prefer and how to act. The problem runs deep. A large share of what most people say, think, and do is a product of convention. Its force is hard to resist because getting in line with what others expect causes them to think well of us. Deviating from it tends to be punished swiftly by others who are more comfortable saying, doing, and enforcing what is expected. Much of Stoicism is the effort to see the truth and act on it, and to learn a noble contempt for the consequences that follow. Turning to details, then, the Stoics regard the appetite for praise as one of the mainsprings of conformity in particular and human behavior in general. They set out to tame it. They start by asking why we care what others say and think about us, especially when the others are people we probably do not hold in notably high esteem. The Stoic develops a distrust for popular judgments, and a suspicion of people and things that have mass appeal. Stoicism tries instead to substitute a greater respect for one’s own opinions, and practice at valuing things for what they are rather than for what anyone else thinks about them.

A second recourse is to make an assessment of the criticism. If we are criticized justly, we should accept it and change (or accept it and be done). If we are criticized unjustly, the critics are mistaken and entitled to compassion. They meant well, or at least said what seemed right and best to their limited capacities. And at any rate we all will be gone soon enough.

Convention, to be clear, is not merely irrelevant from a Stoic standpoint. It is a repository of error and engine of misjudgment, and a source of pressure that one must learn to resist.

On most journeys some recognizable road, and inquiries made of the locals, prevent you from going astray; but on this one the paths most worn and used are also the most deceptive. So nothing needs to be emphasized more than that we should not, like sheep, follow the lead of the flock in front of us – heading not where we ought to go, but where it goes. Seneca, On the Happy Life 1.2–3

Who is not aware that nothing thought to be good or bad looks the same to the sage as it does to everyone else? He pays no mind to what others consider shameful or wretched; he does not walk with the crowd; just as the planets make their way against the whirl of heaven, he proceeds contrary to the opinion of the world. Seneca, On the Constancy of the Wise Man 14.3–4

Whatever it be, whether art or nature, that has inscribed in us this condition of living by reference to others, it does us much more harm than good. We defraud ourselves out of what is actually useful to us in order to make appearances conform to common opinion. We care less about the real truth of our inner selves than about how we are known to the public. Montaigne, On Vanity (1580)

What goes on in other people’s consciousness is, as such, a matter of indifference to us; and in time we get really indifferent to it, when we come to see how superficial and futile are most people’s thoughts, how narrow their ideas, how mean their sentiments, how perverse their opinions, and how much of error there is in most of them. Schopenhauer, The Wisdom of Life (1851)

The Stoic therefore regards widespread approval of something as a bad sign. Human affairs are not so happily ordered that the better things are pleasing to the many; a proof of the worst choice is the crowd. Seneca, On the Happy Life 2.1 The judgments of common and ordinary people rarely hit the mark. And in my own time, I am much mistaken if the worst writings are not those that have won the greatest share of public approval. Montaigne, On Vanity (1580) The same goes for people. Mass popularity suggests a want of quality or integrity in whoever obtains it. It takes trickery to cultivate popular approval. You have to make yourself like them. . . . If I see you much acclaimed by the populace, if your entrances are greeted by the sound of cheers and applause (as we see given to actors), if the whole state, even the women and children, sing your praises – how can I help pitying you? For I know what road one must take to gain such popularity. Seneca, Epistles 29.11–12

And taking one’s own perceptions seriously isn’t just a better habit than listening to others or worrying about what they might think. It is an essential part of Stoic practice, which consists in the first place, after all, of speaking the truth to ourselves instead of repeating what everyone else says.

Be deaf to those who love you most of all; they pray for bad things with good intentions. And if you want to be happy, pray to the gods that none of their fond desires for you may be brought to pass. Those things they wish to have heaped upon you are not really good; there is only one good, the cause and the support of a happy life – trust in oneself. Seneca, Epistles 31.2–3

No longer be concerned with what the world says about you, but with how you talk to yourself. M...

No one but you knows whether you are cowardly and cruel or loyal and devout. Others never see you; they only guess about you by uncertain conjectures. They do not see your nature so much as they see your artifice. So do not cling to their judgments; cling to your own. Montaigne, Of Repentance (1580)

The success of an insult depends on the sensitivity and the indignation of the victim. Seneca, On the Constancy of the Wise Man 17.4

Whatever someone might say about you, pay no attention; it is no concern of yours. Epictetus, Enchiridion 50

Whoever gets into a fight becomes the antagonist of the other, and can only win by being on the same level. “But if the wise man gets punched, what should he do?” What Cato did when he was struck in the face. He did not get angry, he did not avenge the wrong, he did not even forgive it; he said that no wrong had been done. He showed finer spirit in not acknowledging it than he would if he had pardoned it. Seneca, On the Constancy of the Wise Man 14.3

12. Mistakes. But suppose an insult is unjust. In that case the Stoic regards whoever delivered it not as a bad person but as mistaken, and as appropriately viewed in the way we look at anyone who blunders – mostly as a pitiful character. You need not be a sage to take insults lightly, but merely someone of sense – one who might say: “Do I deserve these things that happen to me? If I deserve them, there is no insult; it is justice. If I don’t deserve them, let the one who does the injustice blush.” Seneca, On the Constancy of the Wise Man 16.3

Stoics compare those who commit wrongs or mistakes, or who otherwise have bad judgment, to people with diminished physical capacities. We tend to be forgiving of such impairments; why shouldn’t we have the same attitude toward those who insult us, or otherwise do wrong, because their understandings are defective? Mistakes are nothing to get angry about. What, now, should we be angry with those whose footsteps falter in the dark? With the deaf, when they don’t listen to orders? With children, because – neglecting a proper attention to their duties – they watch the games and silly jokes of their fellows? Do you want to be angry with those who are weary because they are sick and growing old? Seneca, On Anger 2.10.1

So this robber, this adulterer, shouldn’t they have been destroyed? Not at all, but rather ask this: “This man who has been misled and deceived about the most important things, who has been blinded – not in his vision, the ability to distinguish white from black, but in his judgment, the ability to distinguish good from evil – shouldn’t we destroy him?” If you put it this way, you will see how inhumane your question is. ...