Caleb and Michael continue the series on The Book of Five Rings with Musashi’s rules of thumb for combat: using the environment, the three ways to take the initiative, holding down the pillow, knowing when an opponent is coming apart, becoming the opponent, and becoming like a rock wall. They also ask what carries over to ordinary life, where the aim is usually not to crush the other person, and where Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus and Seneca put the same tools to a different use.

(01:45) Why Read a Book About Sword Fighting?

(03:25) Keep the Sun Behind You

(09:45) Taking the Initiative

(14:30) Leading and Following on Purpose

(19:55) Holding Down the Pillow

(24:20) Winning, Fun, and Learning

(29:00) Knowing Disintegration

(30:40) Becoming the Opponent

(32:20) Weaponized Empathy

(35:50) Infection and Flustering

(40:45) Becoming Like a Rock Wall

(45:15) Recap

(48:05) Final Takeaways

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Thanks to Michael Levy for graciously letting us use his music in the conversations:

https://ancientlyre.com/

In one of history’s most famous scenes, after the conclusion of Plato’s dialogue the Apology, Socrates finds himself condemned to death.

Socrates famously said that his accusers cannot harm him. But whether or not they can harm him, it seems they may indeed succeed in killing his body. A few friends succeed in breaking into the jail with a plan to spring Socrates free.

Socrates refuses. He intends to stay, and follow through on the execution. His friends are heartbroken, and rather than cry with them, Socrates rebukes them.

Don’t you realize, Socrates says, that philosophy is a training for death. Now, in the face of his own demise, is the time for him to show how well he has internalized the ideas of philosophy.

The simplest way to read this scene is that death is another indifferent. Something we’d prefer not to happen, but can navigate well when we must. Don’t think of death as a terrible thing, but an indifferent one.

This is what Epictetus points to when he says:

Men are disturbed, not by things, but by the principles and notions which they form concerning things. Death, for instance, is not terrible, else it would have appeared so to Socrates. But the terror consists in our notion of death that it is terrible.

Handbook 5

But that is not the whole point. The other idea is that dying is actually the capstone of a life well lived, the concluding chapter. As Seneca says:

It takes the whole of life to learn how to live, and—what will perhaps make you wonder more—it takes the whole of life to learn how to die.

On the Shortness of Life Chapter 7

Death is another challenge, a moment to rise to, an opportunity to demonstrate what we really believe.

So what does that mean in practice? First, we can remember that death is a part of life. We can practice Memento Mori. Then we can imagine how we would like to die. Bravely? Peacefully? Surrounded by our friends?

This is why philosophers so often talk about the deaths of philosophers - as inspiration. Epicurus died happy, although very sick, remembering the time he spent with friends. Socrates died carrying out the punishment given to him by the city of Athens, rather than fleeing. Seneca died Stoically following through on an order from Nero to commit suicide, rather than fleeing or fighting.

Third, we can imagine our life as a finite thing. As a project with an end date. This can help you live in the moment more purposefully. As Marcus said:

Consider yourself to be dead, and to have completed your life up to the present time; and live according to nature the remainder which is allowed you.

Meditations, 7.56

If you want to live like Socrates, then you have to live preparing for death. Because that is what philosophy is about.

Sustained and needless abusive or cruel behavior toward our models.

Anthropic Policy

Anthropic states that the change applies only to “extreme cases where users repeatedly act cruelly toward our models, with no discernible purpose.”

Some mocked this. After all, today’s AI is not conscious. They argue that you cannot be cruel to something that cannot feel. So who cares?

The Stoics have a good answer to this. To see why, we have to consider their stance on animals.

Now, the Stoics had a controversial position here. They believed that animals were not fully rational and, because of this, were not within the sphere of justice. As such, we can use them for our purposes – but how we use them says something about us.

You may not agree with how they thought about animals then – I don’t – but the ancient Stoic thinking here applies well to AI today.

Here’s Marcus Aurelius:

As to the animals which have no reason and generally all things and objects, do you since you have reason and they have none, make use of them with a generous and liberal spirit.

Meditations 6.23

So much modern ethics focuses on the object of our actions instead of the doer. Asking “What should we do?” instead of “Who should we be?”

Sometimes, it seems like we’re looking to see how much we can get away with. Is it a duty to give money to charity? Nope – glad to hear it. Can AI feel anything? If not, I can treat it however I want. Same with plants, paintings, planets…

But the ancient virtue ethicist starts with the question: Who do you want to become?

Marcus Aurelius doesn’t focus on what the animal deserves, but the human “making use of them.” It’s essential that we act with “generosity of spirit and freedom of mind.”

And it’s hard, at least for me, to imagine an excellent person as someone who causes needless suffering to animals or constantly abuses their AI. Debates about whether it is “true abuse” are irrelevant. An excellent person is courageous, just, moderate, and wise. They’re not spending time abusing AI models. How would that exhibit excellence or happiness? People who do this likely have some kind of vice or failing.

After all, as Seneca says:

Would anyone think himself to be in his perfect mind if he were to return kicks to a mule or bites to a dog? “These creatures,” you say, “know not that they are doing wrong.” Then, in the first place, what an unjust judge you must be if a man has less chance of gaining your forgiveness than a beast!

On Anger 3.27

That question led William Irvine to turn Epictetus’s dichotomy of control into a trichotomy: things you control, things you don’t, and things you partly control, like whether you win a tennis match.

Michael thinks this is a mistake. Epictetus knew our choices influence outcomes and left that category out on purpose. His point is about value. Only your judgments and choices are good or bad, and the tennis match has more in common with tomorrow’s sunrise than with your character.

Caleb and Michael cover where the trichotomy comes from, why it appeals, and how to keep its useful insight without giving up the dichotomy.

(02:25) The Dichotomy of Control in Epictetus

(05:50) Where the Phrase Comes From

(07:05) William Irvine’s Trichotomy

(10:45) The Common Sense Appeal of Influence

(11:30) Mel Robbins and Let Them

(13:05) Why the Trichotomy Is Tempting

(15:40) It Is Not What Epictetus Meant

(16:45) It Hides the Point About Value

(19:30) The Intermediate Stoic and the Tennis Match

(22:15) What Is Actually Up to You

(24:05) Gods, Mortals, and a Third Category

(27:50) Does Epictetus Say Not to Care?

(30:05) Influence Is a Choice About Externals

(30:50) Keeping the Insight Without the Trichotomy

(33:45) Final Thoughts

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Every day, our life is full of sensations.

Most of them we don’t even notice anymore: The noise from your neighbors, the texture of your shirt on your skin, the sensation of your watch on your wrist, the rumble of the car as you drive.

Our lives are made up of a series of sensations, and we don’t pay attention to them.

When we practice mindfulness and concentration on sensations, we can notice them for what they are. We become like the Buddha described when he said:

When feeling a pleasant feeling, one understands: ‘I feel a pleasant feeling.’ When feeling a painful feeling, one understands: ‘I feel a painful feeling.’

Majjhima Nikaya

In Buddhism a sensation is what happens when an external object comes together with a sense organ. In Buddhism there are six sense organs: the eyes, nose, tongue, ears, body and mind. These sensations come in three categories. They are good, bad, or neutral.

If that sounds simple, that’s because it is. It is not the case that I experience delicious, expensive crab meat. Rather, when I reflect on it, it is only that my tongue receives a good sensation. I do not hear an inconsiderate neighbor blasting their music. My ears receive a bad sensation.

One goal, in mindfulness of sensations, is to not add an interpretation or reaction to our sensations, but to see them clearly for what they are. Simply a good, bad, or neutral sensation to one of our sense organs.

Buddhism teaches that, unless we are mindful, we move from a sensation to craving, desire, or emotion. Mindfulness of sensations is, in part, about building a hard stop into an automatic process. If you are not mindful, an unpleasant sensation in your ear becomes anger at your neighbor for being inconsiderate again. A pleasant tongue sensation becomes craving for more expensive food, and the career that supports this lifestyle.

But we can just see sensations for what they are, impressions on the sense organs. Nothing more. This sets us free from our automatic reactions, interpretations, and stories. And in that moment of freedom, we can decide what they mean to us.

3.5

Labour not unwillingly, nor without regard to the common interest, nor without due consideration, nor with distraction; nor let studied ornament set off your thoughts, and be not either a man of many words, or busy about too many things.

And further, let the deity which is in you be the guardian of a living being, manly and of ripe age, and engaged in matter political, and a Roman, and a ruler, who has taken his post like a man waiting for the signal which summons him from life, and ready to go, having need neither of oath nor of any man’s testimony.

Be cheerful also, and seek not external help nor the tranquility which others give.

A man then must stand erect, not be kept erect by others.

Read the rest of the meditations here.

Notes

Can you list what you should:

• Keep your mind on

• Not be distracted by

• Let rule your life

• Bring to mind to always persist

In this short passage, Marcus Aurelius shows that he can.

It may serve you well to remember the same in your own case: what’s important, what’s not, what should govern your decisions, all while motivating yourself to do your best.

Let’s add some more detail to each.

What’s important is what you keep your attention and awareness on. You can think of attention as the immediate object and awareness as knowledge of everything surrounding (this is my construction, not the Roman emperor’s).

The Roman emperor reminds himself to keep the general welfare front of mind. Every action should be done with regard to the whole. It should not be shortsighted or selfish. He must not let himself be distracted by others, spend time showing off, or tarry in trifles.

So your attention may be on a specific person or role that you occupy – while your awareness is knowledge of the whole social network that you occupy. In this way, you can master both microcosm and macrocosm.

Keep what is important front of mind. Forget what is not.

What doesn’t matter is not worthy of your time and therefore not worthy of your life. As an emperor with so many demands on one’s time, he must have felt the urgency of hundreds of tasks while staying resolute with the knowledge that not all of them were essential. The petitions from others – citizens and politicians with their own agendas – clamoring for his attention would have been commonplace.

And so he had to cut through this and let his daemon rule his life. Make decisions in accordance with his reason, conscience, and principles. For him, that means to live as a man and a Roman.

Ignore the social pressure. The pointless novel entertainments. Make decisions in accord with Stoic philosophy.

In this passage, Marcus Aurelius soundly hits on what matters for the philosophers. We must think well and pursue knowledge. To act with shortsightedness betrays ignorance. We let down ourselves and our guiding genius when we do that. Instead, we must fulfill our roles both ordinary and cosmic. Cosmic in the sense that every human must act as a rational being. Ordinary in the sense that we must be excellent men and women, employees and employers, artists and athletes, housemates and neighbors. Marcus Aurelius was called to be Roman emperor. We each have our own calling. It is this that must guide your decisions.

How can you motivate yourself to live up to your purposes? Create a self-image to live up to. Throughout the Meditations we see Marcus Aurelius engaging in this practice. His model is virtuous, manly, and an excellent ruler. Importantly, it’s contingent on who he is and the situation he finds himself in. For that reason, your self-image cannot be the same, even if it is ultimately derived from the same principles.

And in the end we must be prepared to go. Take that as motivation, energy. We will not live forever. Live now.

Let your life be full of what matters, clean of what doesn’t, and guided by philosophy.

Anger requires the idea that we have been harmed by somebody or something.

But there is a second part to anger, a magnifying force. Anger loves to feel righteous.

A major source of anger is our indignation. We are good and they are bad, we tell ourselves. We did not deserve to be treated like this.

We can resolve our anger by considering if the actions of the other person may have been justified, or at least normal. Consider if they may have been the kind of thing you would do, and forgive yourself for.

As Seneca said:

Someone will be said to have spoken ill of you: think whether you did not first speak ill of him: think of how many persons you have yourself spoken ill.

On Anger, 2.28.5

The trick here is to not jump to indignation. Remember that we certainly have faults too!

But it is critical to clarify that this is not about putting up with poor treatment. We don’t deserve abuse or mistreatment. That is another kind of mistake, an overcorrection.

The point is that sometimes people are mean to us because of something we have done. And in those cases, we should accept their treatment as fair, not unjust. Other times people do things wrong, but we righteously hold them to such a high standard, one we would never pass ourselves.

None of us are perfect. And as Seneca points out, thinking we are without mistake is often a mistake itself. He said:

If we desire to be impartial judges of all that takes place, we must first convince ourselves of this, that no one of us is faultless: for it is from this that most of our indignation proceeds. ‘I have not sinned, I have done no wrong.’ Say, rather, you do not admit that you have done any wrong.

On Anger 2.28.1

Marcus Aurelius echoed this idea when he said:

When you are offended at any man’s fault, forthwith turn to yourself and reflect in what like manner you do err yourself.

Meditations, 10.30

Often we frame ourselves as the victim because we can’t admit or see our own faults. And in this victim perspective, we get angry at the behavior of others.

But how can we be angry with a person who insulted us after we’ve done the same to others? How can we hate the person who lies to get their way when we are no different?

We can defeat anger by being realistic about ourselves and the world. People are flawed, ourselves included. Remove the righteous indignation and the anger goes along with it.

That’s the argument at the center of the final chapter of C.S. Lewis’s The Abolition of Man. Once human nature becomes one more thing to conquer, values stop being handed down and start being engineered. Teachers become conditioners.

Caleb and Michael close out the series. They cover what Lewis means by the conquest of nature, why he thinks explaining things can slide into explaining them away, and his picture of a science that could study the world without stripping it of meaning.

(03:00) The Foil: Conquering Human Nature

(06:35) Eugenics and Transhumanism

(08:10) Power Over Nature Is Power Over Other Men

(11:30) Who Really Conquered Gravity?

(12:50) Conditioners and the Old Way of Teaching

(15:35) Education as Conditioning

(19:55) Why Not Just Teach What People Like?

(27:05) Dryads, Body-Snatchers, and a Disenchanted World

(29:55) Lightning Is Not Zeus

(33:05) Is Science the Problem?

(37:55) Closing the Book on Human Nature

(40:35) A Regenerate Science

(43:50) The Clear Window

(45:05) Thinking From Within

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The epicure has nothing in common with the chain-smoker; he is closer to the gourmet who concludes a fine meal with a Cuban cigar. He is a master of pleasure and knows how to moderate it, less from a principle of discipline than for the pleasure itself.

Ernst Jünger, Approaches

The Epicurean philosophers believed that the good life was the pleasant one. Like Stoicism, Epicurean philosophy was caricatured, but not completely unfairly. Loosely speaking, an “Epicurean” is someone who likes fine wine and cheeses – there’s little about Epicurus’s definition of pleasure, the fourfold remedy, or metaphysics.

Jünger captures both the common and technical meaning here: an Epicurean knows how to enjoy life without becoming a slave to their desire. The good life is one without pain, full of the simple pleasures of life.

The Epicurean life isn’t just a pursuit of hedonistic pleasure; it requires virtues like moderation.

Moderation is often explained as self-control or discipline.

Discipline is something that we impose on ourselves. We change our environment. We write down rules to follow. We administer our own regime of rewards and punishments. By doing so, we aim to rein in our desires. This last phrase contains the admission that our wants are not what we wish they were. So, of course, it is a necessity to control them. That’s what discipline is all about. The self against itself.

But Jünger suggests that the Epicurean can find moderation in pleasure itself. I think there’s something deep and useful there.

Instead of always trying to force yourself to give up your desires, find happiness by simply enjoying life – nothing more and nothing less. Instead of imposing discipline from the outside, discover it in pleasure itself.

3.4

Do not waste the remainder of your life in thoughts about others, when you do not refer your thoughts to some object of common utility.

For you lose the opportunity of doing something else when you have such thoughts as these, What is such a person doing, and why, and what is he saying, and what is he thinking of, and what is he contriving, and whatever else of the kind makes us wander away from the observation of our own ruling power.

We ought then to check in the series of our thoughts everything that is without a purpose and useless, but most of all the over-curious feeling and the malignant; and a man should use himself to think of those things only about which if one should suddenly ask, What have you now in your thoughts?

With perfect openness you might immediately answer, This or That; so that from your words it should be plain that everything in you is simple and benevolent, and such as befits a social animal, and one that cares not for thoughts about pleasure or sensual enjoyments at all, nor has any rivalry or envy and suspicion, or anything else for which you would blush if you should say that you had it in your mind.

For the man who is such and no longer delays being among the number of the best, is like a priest and minister of the gods, using too the deity which is planted within him, which makes the man uncontaminated by pleasure, unharmed by any pain, untouched by any insult, feeling no wrong, a fighter in the noblest fight, one who cannot be overpowered by any passion, dyed deep with justice, accepting with all his soul everything which happens and is assigned to him as his portion; and not often, nor yet without great necessity and for the general interest, imagining what another says, or does, or thinks.

For it is only what belongs to himself that he makes the matter for his activity; and he constantly thinks of that which is allotted to himself out of the sum total of things, and he makes his own acts fair, and he is persuaded that his own portion is good. For the lot which is assigned to each man is carried along with him and carries him along with it.

And he remembers also that every rational animal is his kinsman, and that to care for all men is according to man’s nature; and a man should hold on to the opinion not of all, but of those only who confessedly live according to nature.

But as to those who live not so, he always bears in mind what kind of men they are both at home and from home, both by night and by day, and what they are, and with what men they live an impure life.

Accordingly, he does not value at all the praise which comes from such men, since they are not even satisfied with themselves.

Notes

This passage starts by rejecting social life, turning inward, but ends with the truth that it’s in the rejection of ordinary social life that we’re able to best live with others. A paradox, of sorts.

Read more

Emily Wilson, translator of the Odyssey, wrote an essay on the Stoic Epictetus for the London Review of Books. More specifically, it is a book review of Robin Waterfield’s 2022 translation of Epictetus’ Discourses and Handbook.

And while she is positive on the translation itself, she is fairly critical of Epictetus’ version of Stoicism.

However, they are a few things she gets very wrong or misunderstands about Epictetus and his philosophy. And it’s worth clarifying these, because they show some common ways in which people misunderstand Stoicism, even those well-versed in the classical world.

Before jumping to the defense of Stoicism, it’s worth reiterating that Professor Wilson knows her stuff. She is a professor of classics at the University of Pennsylvania, and her domain of expertise is not limited to the Odyssey and the Iliad. While she is likely best known as a translator of Homer, she has also written a biography of Seneca, and translated his plays.

This makes it all the more important to call out these confusions.

I also want to clarify that I am not another person on the internet who feels qualified to criticize Wilson’s work or translations with no experience. I have my PhD in philosophy, where I specialized in Epictetus and published on him. I’ve also been putting Stoicism into practice for the last 10 years, heavily inspired by Epictetus.

I will cover three arguments Wilson makes against Epictetus and Stoicism, and where I think these go wrong.

Argument 1: Epictetus’ ethics over-emphasizes the individual and neglects the importance of collective action.

“There is no discussion of the possibilities of collective action. Some Roman Stoics and Stoic-sympathisers were closely associated with opposition to imperial rule and a desire to return to the old days of the Republic. Political revolution can be ‘up to us’ only collectively: it takes more than one person to topple an emperor, or to end slavery. But Epictetus takes no interest in such goals. ‘It’s not poverty that we need to get rid of,’ he says, ‘but our judgment of poverty’ – he’s not talking about poverty as a social evil here, but giving advice to a young man who wants his father to give him a larger allowance.”

Wilson’s argument is that Epictetus’ ethical system focuses on us as atomistic agents. Harms happen at the level of the atom, and virtue is achieved at the level of the individual. This leaves an important gap. There are certain kinds of virtuous action that requires a collective (toppling an empire), and there are certain kinds of vices or evils that occur at the level of society, not just the level of the individual (e.g., the institution of slavery).

This reading is in a way correct, but not as much of an issue as Wilson makes it out to be. Epictetus is very much a “make your own bed first” philosopher. He starts with the individual intentionally. For him, effective collective action requires individuals of virtue and character (how else could you be sure the political side you are on is the right one?).

Yes, poverty is an example of injustice. But two people having a philosophical discussion will not solve poverty. What they can solve is their own biases, blindspots, and ignorance. They can fix their personal evils. And, once that is done, Epictetus would certainly have no issue going after broader injustice.

Stoicism does not exclude the possibility of participating in collective action. Marcus Aurelius was obviously concerned with collective action and he took great insight from Epictetus. It is just that Epictetus is focused on the foundation of effective collectives - the individual.

Argument 2: Epictetus’ advice is designed to help privileged men reckon with the limitations of their power

“This is the kind of problem that Epictetus’ version of Stoicism is designed to address: a privileged man is disturbed by the idea that he does not have complete control over every element of his existence.

Epictetus’ teaching intervenes from two different directions. It knocks the egotistical student down a peg or two (‘Slave!’), while providing a philosophically authorised justification for his fantasies of power, permanence and autonomy. Other philosophical and religious traditions encourage their followers to aspire to an emptiness of the self, echoing the emptiness of reality (in Sanskrit, sūnyatā) or the self-emptying of God (in Greek, kenōsis).

In Epictetus’ version of Stoicism, the self is always the focus, even for the most enlightened philosopher. The wise Stoic never gives up his desire for power and possessions, goals that can be achieved through control over the will. It isn’t a coincidence that Stoicism, in a watered-down form, is currently so popular with wealthy white men in Silicon Valley or Wall Street.”

According to Wilson, Stoicism appeals to those who want to feel powerful, permanent and autonomous, but are faced with a world in which they do not feel those things. This gap between expectation and reality makes them angry, frustrated or otherwise dissatisfied with life. So Stoicism provides a philosophical way to satisfy this desire for power. It achieves that by restricting the domain of your power to a very small space. Yes, you are all powerful and autonomous, says Epictetus, but only in this small sphere of the choices you make and how you respond to impressions.

Wilson’s point seems to be that Stoicism attempts to redirect an unhealthy desire for power instead of asking us to eliminate it. So, Stoicism intuitively appeals to misled men who desire power, without ever making them really address what is wrong with that starting point.

On its own, this is a descriptively interesting insight into why Stoicism is appealing to certain groups of people. I still wonder why Stoicism, a philosophy designed for all people, is much more popular with men. And it does some right to me that someone encountering Stoicism for the first time would want to feel powerful, and see the appeal of Stoicism in that it clarify where your power truly lies.

But Wilson then misinterprets what Stoicism actually has to say about power. She writes: “The wise Stoic never gives up his desire for power and possessions, goals that can be achieved through control over the will.”

But this entirely misinterprets what the Stoics say. As Epictetus says:

“If you desire something that isn’t up to us, you’re bound to become miserable…” (Handbook 2, Trans. Waterfield)

I am not sure where to even begin to square that with Wilson’s claim that the wise Stoic will never give up a desire for power or possessions. The Stoic can prefer power and possessions, but the significant ethical task laid out by Epictetus is to shift our desire from external possessions and power, to the internal quality of our character.

Second, Epictetus does not think we ‘control’ our will in order to get external power. What does Wilson even mean by the word ‘will’? If she means our faculty of choice (prohairesis), then we are our will. We are the part of ourselves that makes choices. So we don’t ‘tame’ or ‘control’ or ‘harness’ ourselves. We improve ourselves. It’s about changing what we value, not repressing or ignoring a part of ourselves.

So what starts as an interesting psychological observation about what might draw some people to Stoicism becomes a criticism of Epictetus that doesn’t make sense given what he actually says. Wilson’s view is more reflective of a shallow first reading of Epictetus on power and desire, than it is of Epictetus’ actual position. And it is one that I hope people would move on from.

Argument 3: Epictetus advice is bad for relationships with other people.

“The teachings of Epictetus are rather less useful when it comes to interactions with other people. ‘If you kiss a child of yours,’ he says, ‘or your wife, tell yourself that you’re kissing a human being, because then you won’t be upset if they die.’ This must have been a common piece of Stoic advice; the line is quoted admiringly by Marcus Aurelius.

Such mantras aren’t much good if you consider your children’s well-being more important than your own tranquillity. Epictetus discusses the case of a man who leaves home when his child is sick because he can’t bear to contemplate her suffering or the possibility of her death. He concedes that this is not the most ‘affectionate’ thing to do: if the mother and enslaved caregivers had done the same, the child would have been left entirely alone. He doesn’t explain why these people stay to take care of the child, although one possibility might be that they are more focused on her needs than their own feelings.”

Wilson’s point is that Epictetus provides a strong framework for protecting our feelings and tranquility. But in following that framework, we lose our ability to connect with other people, because human connection involves risk, vulnerability, loss and pain.

In protecting ourselves, we must disconnect from others. A trade which is not worth it for anyone who actually values the well-being and happiness of their family.

This is certainly Wilson’s worst argument. First, the focus on tranquility is strange here - this objection is almost better levelled at the Epicureans. The Stoics are focused on virtue. The Stoic would happily do something uncomfortable and unpleasant, if it was the right thing to do.

Second, Wilson says that Epictetus’ philosophy isn’t much help if you consider your children’s well-being more important than your own tranquility. This puts personal tranquility in tension with the well-being of your family. But for a Stoic, the dilemma is not an obvious one. Sometimes the best thing you can do for your child or family is to be tranquil in a moment of chaos. Often, what a sick child needs is a tranquil parent. They need a parent that can support them, make good decisions, and be healthy themselves.

It is ironic that Wilson references the example of the father who leaves his sick daughter, because this is the exact example I use to prove that the Stoics believe sometimes being emotionally tranquil is good for other people. The father fails to take care of his daughter because he gets too upset! He is unable to help those who need him because he cannot manage his emotions.

Third, because Wilson doesn’t recognize the goal of the Stoic good life as virtue, she can’t make sense of the example. When talking of the mother and caregiver of the sick child, she says Epictetus “doesn’t explain why these people stay to take care of the child, although one possibility might be that they are more focused on her needs than their own feelings.”

But the more obvious possibility to Epictetus is that, if they are Stoic, they stay to take care of the child because it is the right thing to do. Because the only reason they have to leave is their own cowardice or fear. They care more about being a good parent or caregiver to this sick child than the possibility of discomfort. Which is the exact Stoic response. The one Epictetus is encouraging the father towards.

Now, the sage, the prefect Stoic, feels no conflict between making the right choice and emotional tranquility, because they are already perfect. There is no discomfort for them in being a good parent to a sick child. But the Stoic in progress is often asked to put their feelings aside for the sake of what is right.

In conclusion, I don’t have an issue with Wilson critiquing Stoicism or Epictetus. But any good critique needs to understand and be charitable to what it is critiquing.

There are issues with Stoicism:

• Is it even possible to achieve the Stoic idea of virtue, and if not what is the point of practicing it?

• Does it rely on a theological conception of the world which is not valid in the face of modern scientific evidence?

• Does it ignore examples of genuine evil in the world, by reducing good and bad to value categories we can only apply to character?

• Does it neglect or ignore the non-rational parts, subconscious, parts of the self?

These are questions worth asking, and there are others. But what Epictetus is not teaching is an individualistic ethic, focused on the attainment of power and possessions, while prioritizing personal tranquility over helping those in need.

Stoicism, and Epictetus’ version too, is focused on helping people flourish, by focusing them on what matters. This means prioritizing the things up to us before overcommitting to broader social change. It means desiring to be a good person for its own sake, but not forsaking power and wealth as if giving up those things makes us automatically good, or as if having them makes us evil. Finally, it means doing the right thing, like helping other people, even if it is painful, difficult, or scary.

Unfortunately, Emily Wilson does not understand Epictetus.

Michael thinks she got him wrong. Not because she doesn’t know the ancient world. She does. Because her criticisms rest on misreadings that a lot of smart, well-read people make.

Caleb and Michael work through three of them. Epictetus ignores collective action. Epictetus wrote therapy for privileged men. Epictetus is good for pain but bad for love.

One of her points lands. The other two don’t.

(00:00) Emily Wilson Reviews Epictetus

(04:00) A Classicist Hostile to Stoicism

(05:30) Argument One: No Room for Collective Action

(09:40) Epictetus as a Make-Your-Own-Bed Philosopher

(14:40) What “Collective Action” Smuggles In

(19:10) Argument Two: Philosophy for Privileged Men

(24:00) Misreading Desire and Prohairesis

(30:00) Stoicism, Martial Arts, and Shifting the Goalposts

(38:20) Argument Three: Good for Pain, Bad for Relationships

(41:40) The Sick Child: Virtue, Not Tranquility

(46:40) The Iliad, Grief, and Collective Mourning

(51:30) Waterfield’s Translation and Final Thoughts

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Thanks to Michael Levy for graciously letting us use his music in the conversations:

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Epictetus’ Handbook famously opens with what is called today the dichotomy of control.

“Some things are up to us and others are not. Up to us are opinion, impulse, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever is our own action. Not up to us are body, property, reputation, office, and, in a word, whatever is not our own action.” (Handbook 1, Trans. Robin Hard)

At its simplest, the argument goes something like this:

1. Everything in the world is either up to us or not

2. If we want to be happier, better people, we need to treat each category appropriately.

3. This means (among other things):

   1. Treating our opinions, choices and values with the proper care and attention they deserve.

   2. No holding on too tightly or rigidly to the things not up to us, like our reputation, career, or the opinions of other people.

This is a central claim for Epictetus. Arguably the core of his method of Stoic education. (Caleb and I did a whole podcast episode on it, and its common misinterpretations).

The term dichotomy of control, as far as I can tell, was coined by Professor William Irvine in his 2009 book A Guide To the Good Life. In that book, Irvine also introduces a potential update, or clarification of Epictetus’ key division - the trichotomy of control.

I still see discussion of the trichotomy of control online. However, I don’t think the idea is helpful or accurate for practicing Stoicism in your own life.

What is the trichotomy of control?

The trichotomy of control says that Epictetus division is too simple. Epictetus either missed, or more likely failed to highlight, a third category. That category is things we influence. So the dichotomy needs to be updated.

Irvine presents the idea in the following way:

The argument is that Epictetus’ dichotomy works as a practical guide for how to live by providing categories with specific instructions, but two categories are not enough.

I shouldn’t treat a tennis match as if it is something entirely up to me, but it’s also defeatist to treat it like something entirely out of my control, like the rising of the sun.

We need a third way of interacting with the world, a way of handling things we influence. For these situations that we influence but do not control, Irvine says we should care about the outcome, but set internal goals. I want to win the tennis match, but this is in service of an internal goal, for example to try my hardest or improve my tennis skill.

I want to lose weight, but this is in service of the internal goal of improving my temperance. I want to progress in my career, but this is in service of an internal goal of developing my wisdom and work ethic.

It’s an intuitive idea, but it doesn’t work. More precisely, it is useful advice that should not be presented as an alternative to the dichotomy of control.

What the Trichotomy of Control Misses

The trichotomy of control is a trap. Not only is it not what Epictetus argued, practicing it can also obscure or detract from Epictetus’ actual lesson.

The problem with the trichotomy is that it assumes Epictetus’ point is that there are some things we control, and some things we don’t.

And if that is Epictetus’ point, then it is natural to object that there is a whole category missing: The things we kind of control, the things we influence.

But this is not what Epictetus’ division is about.

It is instead a fundamental divide between two kinds of things that have two different sets of properties across value, responsibility and more:

What could be called control (but is really better thought of as what we cause or is up to us) is only relevant for the last two categories! By reducing Epictetus’ key distinction to a spectrum of ‘control’ you obscure this other part of the lesson.

Epictetus is not only asking us to realize that we can’t control other people (as good advice as that may be).

Rather, Epictetus is also asking us and his students to reorient their entire value system and sense of identity. There are only a few truly good and bad things in the world. And these include the choices and judgements you make, and the emotions and desires that follow from them.

These are also the things you can be judged by, because they are who you really are, and because they depend on you.

Epictetus is making a divide foundational to Stoic thinking between two different kinds of things. The trichotomy of control entirely misses this by doubling down on the control part.

How to think about what we influence instead

But, what about the things we influence? We still want to be able to handle the tennis match and the job interview. We want to make the most of the things we can influence, without getting too upset if they don’t go our way.

How can we do that if we are only supposed to focus on the things up to us?

Well here is an alternative for how to do that. Instead of creating a third category of things we influence, we can approach these situations with the dichotomy of control in mind, as long as we frame it properly.

What it means for something to be influenceable is that our choices matter for the outcome. So really, anything influenceable is still just reducible to a combination of things up to us (choices/judgements) and things not up to us (the behaviour of our opponent, the weather, the mood of the referee). The dichotomy works perfectly. See the example below:

The tennis match is a combination of the things up to us and not. When engaging in a match, our job, as Stoics, is to focus our attention and effort on the proper side, while still taking in information from the things not up to us where relevant.

Stoics care about how things turn out. They prefer to win a tennis match. But they don’t judge themselves as a player by if they win (a good player may injure their knee mid-match, or face a biased referee).

Likewise, in life, the good person prefers a certain outcome in their family, work, social life, but does not base their happiness on it.

So if something is influenceable, if our choices may change or affect what happens, then we should reflect that in how we act. But the situation is still only made up of things up to us, or things not.

This is the key takeaway of the dichotomy of control. I try my hardest in the tennis match, not because the tennis match is up to me, but because my choices are. And trying your best at things, whether that’s tennis, work, family or self-improvement, while also accepting that some of those things are not up to you is one of the best Stoic lessons to learn.

We can learn a lot about ourselves by how we respond to the praise of others. Are you indifferent to it? Does it fill you with pride? Or does the positive attention make you uncomfortable?

Today’s story is about Antisthenes. Antisthenes was a pupil of Socrates and the teacher of Diogenes. He took from the teachings of Socrates that virtue was the highest good, and the key to a happy life. It is not a surprise then that Stoicism descends from Cynicism. Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, studied under the Cynic Crates.

While none of his writing remains, Antisthenes’ thinking was very influential. The ancient Biographer Diogenes Laertius, not the Cynic Diogenes of Sinope, said that Antisthenes laid the foundations for the city others would build.

However, like his students, he was sceptical of praise. According to Diogenes Laertius:

When told he was being praised by many people, Antisthenes asked, ‘What have I done amiss?’

So often we do things for the sake of what other people think. Sometimes, we don’t even realize this until years later. At a certain age we might take a step back and realize we were just trying to make our parents proud, or prove a teacher wrong.

Many experience a mid-life crisis when they realize they have built a life around living up to the expectations of others.

We are conditioned from a young age for the approval of others to be action guiding. We think we are on the right path if we receive praise, and question our decisions in the face of criticism.

But Antisthenes inverts this. He takes his praise, his popularity, as a warning. He must be doing something wrong if people like him so much.

Taken literally, this kind of thinking is dangerous. It is not freedom to reject what is popular and embrace what is unpopular - it is just contrarian. The opposite of stupid isn’t necessarily smart. And to always do the opposite of others is to just be a conformist of a different sort.

But the lesson here is that we don’t need to be constrained by the opinion of others.

And if you ever find yourself influenced by peer pressure, or tempted by the praise of others, you might need to channel more of your inner Antisthenes.

Marcus Aurelius wrote:

It never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own.

Meditations 12.4

It’s time to stop caring about the opinions of others.

The Stoics said blank. Aetius describes a newborn soul as a sheet of paper waiting to be written on. Every idea you have got there through experience. Plato said the opposite. Your soul already knew everything and forgot it at birth. Learning is just remembering.

Michael and Caleb work through both views, then run them against modern psychology. Core cognition theory. Preparedness theory. The monkey experiments where infants learn to fear snakes fast but never learn to fear flowers?

(05:30) Plato on innate ideas and recollection in the Meno

(11:00) The learner’s paradox

(12:00) The Stoic tabula rasa: Aetius on the mind as blank paper

(15:00) Are emotions innate categories or built from experience?

(20:00) Chomsky, Nussbaum, and cross-cultural anger

(22:30) Preconceptions: why every culture has an idea of justice

(28:00) Philosophy begins with disagreement

(30:00) Do the two views actually differ that much?

(36:00) Modern psychology: core cognition and a few innate ideas

(38:00) Preparedness theory and the snake experiments

(42:00) Proto-passions: when an impression carries force

(45:00) Self-knowledge, and the case against relativism

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Thanks to Michael Levy for graciously letting us use his music in the conversations:

https://ancientlyre.com/

That’s C.S. Lewis’s charge in the second chapter of The Abolition of Man. Caleb and Michael work through his argument: why altruism, self-interest, and instinct all fail to ground morality, and why Lewis thinks you have to appeal to what he calls the Tao, the Way — the shared moral core running through Stoicism, Confucianism, Christianity, and the rest.

(03:00) Subjectivism and Selective Skepticism

(09:00) Epictetus and the Flying Pot

(14:00) Three Failed Groundings: Altruism, Egoism, Instinct

(22:00) The Rebellious Teenager

(27:00) Vegetables, Bricks, and Centipedes

(32:00) Alteration From Within: The Poet and His Language

(37:00) Conservatism and Moral Progress

(42:00) Expanding the Circle: Kymlicka and the Utilitarian Trap

(48:00) The Eight Laws of the Tao

(54:00) Common Sense Morality

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If you try the Stoa app and find it useful, but truly cannot afford it, email us and we’ll set you up with a free account.

Listen to more episodes and learn more here: https://stoameditation.com/blog/stoa-conversations/

Thanks to Michael Levy for graciously letting us use his music in the conversations:

https://ancientlyre.com/

We saw the letter was signed Lampros and adorned with his crest and his motto: PATIENCE IS MINE.

Epictetus encouraged his students to “persist and resist.” The slogan is also translated as “bear and forbear.” In other words, philosophers ought to master their desires so that they can persevere through pain and pleasure.

You can think of this as patience. The sage-like character in Ernst Jünger’s On the Marble Cliffs, Father Lampros, is an excellent model for it.

If we bring to mind the four cardinal virtues (self-control, justice, courage, and practical wisdom), patience is closest to self-control and courage. Patience is grounded in the confidence that whatever you fear – whatever tempts you – will pass.

This confidence is yours. The last two words of the motto is a fitting addition to anyone’s personal maxim. Virtue is his. It is internalized, owned.

Father Lampros, living like a dreamer behind the monastery walls, was perhaps the only one of us to live at the heart of reality.

For the Stoics, the knowledge that you can persist and resist through any circumstance is, once gained, permanent. That knowledge can ground patience. It may not be grasped all at once, but built up in time by proving to yourself and others that you are steadfast.

Confidence gives way to tranquility. Presence in the now, with awareness of the past and willingness to meet the future.

Patience can be yours, mine, ours.

Admittedly, Father Lampros would smile and say that there are also sarcophagi for the spirit. For him, the hour of annihilation was the hour of life.

Caleb and Michael share what they think and work through what lands and what doesn’t.

Don’t worry this is our last bit of Odyssey content for sometime.

(00:00) Introduction: A Proper Review of Nolan’s Odyssey

(03:30) Ranking Nolan’s Films

(08:15) Zeus’s Law and Odysseus’s Guilt

(13:45) An American Odyssey

(19:00) A Fair Fight: Softening the Slaughter

(20:50) The Horror of Circe, the Cyclops, and Scylla

(23:50) Downplaying the Gods: The Naturalist Reading

(27:40) The Hero Who Doesn’t Shirk Responsibility

(30:40) What’s Lost: Nausicaa and the Choice of Immortality

(36:20) The Calypso Problem: Therapy-Speak in the Bronze Age

(40:30) Athena as a Figment

(43:40) Why Zeus’s Law Doesn’t Cohere

(46:20) Clean Hands, Batman, and Moral Purity

(50:00) The Ending: Exile, Retirement, and the Next Generation

(55:10) Where Nolan Is More Stoic Than Homer

(56:00) Final Verdict: Watch It and Judge for Yourself

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Thanks to Michael Levy for graciously letting us use his music in the conversations:

https://ancientlyre.com/

Of course, The Odyssey has Stoic themes – but precedes Socrates and Zeno of Citium by hundreds of years. It cannot be said to be a Stoic work. And I don’t think Nolan’s Odyssey is definitely Stoic either. But Stoics can and have seen Odysseus as an exemplar.

And, arguably, Nolan’s Odysseus is more Stoic than Homer’s. This isn’t critical appraisal of the widely reviewed film – what follows simply makes the argument.

Zeus’ Law

For instance, the idea of Zeus’ law (xenia) – of seeing and treating anyone as if they could be a God – is arguably a Christian idea – but it is also closer to Stoic than Homeric ethics. In some interviews, Nolan suggests that this idea is essentially the Golden Rule (and I believe Penelope gives voice to it during the movie) – but it is a stretch to read it as such in Homer.

It’s less of a leap to see this kind of ethics in the Stoics – who largely rejected hierarchies of birth and approached modern ideas of equality. Of course, the ethics of being a good host and guest are essential to Homer, but Nolan’s spin is arguably more Stoic than Homeric.

Justice

In Homer’s Odyssey, Odysseus slaughters the suitors, even those who plead for mercy.

In Nolan’s, he just kills the bad guys. His son, Telemachus does not string up the female slaves.

One could read this as more modern, but also more in line with Stoic justice.

Antinous and his posse tried to kill Odysseus and Telemachus after all, rendering the scene much less ambiguous for modern viewers. This may make the film less complex, but renders its themes more Stoic.

Odysseus does not lose his head in the scene of revenge. Further, the scene does not resort to pacifist regret or detached relativism – the suitors deserved to die. The scene comes close to exemplifying fair dealing – the knowledge of how to deal with one’s neighbors without incurring undue blame.

The Gods

In Nolan’s Odyssey, the gods do not walk among us. “Athena” is arguably a projection of Odysseus’ psyche. Poseidon is never seen. There is magic, but it is “apparent magic” and so ambiguous.

The Stoics spoke of Zeus and the gods but did not see them as supernatural. God is reason – the foundational force giving life to the universe. They were pantheists, of a kind, and saw God as Nature – not as a mind above it. Zeus does not rule mortals from above; he is already present as a natural force.

This gives credence to Zeus’ law – the idea that anyone could be a god. Because we are capable of reason, the Stoics held that we each possess a fragment of the divine – and perhaps become divine when we exercise that reason.

Responsibility and Role Ethics

Odysseus is the man who endures and perseveres, whatever the whims of fate and fortune.

He’s constantly balancing his duties as king, general, leader, father, and husband. Despite the distance between our circumstances and his, his life is familiar. We’re often caught between our roles and will go astray. Odysseus provides an example of someone who gets back on the path.

As Seneca wrote:

“Show me, through Ulysses’ example, how to love my country, wife, and father, and how, even after shipwreck, to keep sailing toward these honorable ends.”

Moral Letters, 88

—

Listen to Michael’s and my discussion tomorrow.

When Plato wrote about tyrants in his famous book the Republic, he did not just criticize them - he pitied them. Often when we talk about powerful or corrupt people today it is to condemn or judge them.

We wonder how the warlord, or corrupt politician, or selfish business leader could do the things they do. But Plato pitied them, because he saw them as a soul corrupted. Their soul had been weakened by its desire for money and possessions. Being a tyrant was not a good way to live. It is not a good life. It is not one we would choose, if given the opportunity.

So why then, are we so sad when we lose our own fame and fortune?

Boethius was a christian philosopher who lived in the 6th century Europe. In his work, The Consolation of Philosophy, Boethius wrote:

My view is that nothing is good that is harmful to him who owns it…But riches have very often harmed those who possess them…So there you are, with your stuff, and you find yourself fearful about being waylaid or even murdered for your possessions.

Boethius’ lesson is this. We seek money and possessions because we think it will make us secure and happy. But often it has the opposite effect. The more we have, the more we are afraid of losing it. This was as true 1500 years ago in Boethius’ time as it is today. The wealthy are still worried about losing their money. The famous influencer will still spiral if a new post gets fewer likes than the last one.

We have today a core belief that our happiness comes from our wealth. But philosophy can teach us that even though we grieve the loss of all of our external things, they are not responsible for our happiness - often they make our lives worse.

Boethius raises the same point around our fancy job or title. He wrote:

If those offices and their powers had anything inherently good in them, they would never be possessed by wicked men, for in nature opposites do not attract one another. And since there can be no doubt that offices are often held by evil men, then it follows that they are not in themselves good.

In other words, your job, title and office do not make yourself or your life good, because there are unhappy or evil people that have the same title as you.

It is a very Stoic argument. Your wealth and titles are external to you. They don’t make you happy - often they contribute to your stress, anxiety, or unhappiness. We become rich only to become anxious about losing it all. We become powerful but have to give up our honor and honesty along the way.

We pity the tyrant because they are controlled by their desire for wealth and status, but we desire these things ourselves. In life stay focused on what is up to you - your character and choices.