Why philosophy hurts

On going to the hospital of Epictetus

Philosophy is like going to the hospital.

Epictetus said:

Men, the philosopher’s lecture-hall is a hospital—you shouldn’t walk out of it feeling pleasure, but pain, for you aren’t well when you enter it.

Discourses, 3.23

But why?

It requires hard work and practice. It is painful at the moment. In this way, philosophy is like physical exercise or preparing for the Olympics – another one of Epictetus’s favorite metaphors.

But that’s not enough. There’s something unique about the hospital metaphor. We leave the doctor, perhaps especially ancient doctors, in pain. Why?

Because we are sick and the treatment of our sickness can be excruciating.

According to the Stoics, our illness is the result of our delusions. We do not care about the right things. We put our hopes and dreams into matters outside of our control.

In the Rudyard Kipling poem “If,” the author encourages his son to “dream without making dreams your master.” But few of us live up to this call. We are enslaved by our desires – desires that do not originate from ourselves. Whether it is pleasure, status, wealth, or simply the aversion to pain, these things are like diseases that cause unhappiness and suffering and as such must be rooted out.

Philosophy demands knowing yourself. That’s difficult work.

We must take a hard and honest look at our mistakes and poor thought patterns. These words are too soft to communicate the depth of our illness. We’re aiming to do better every day, but unhappiness is an affliction that affects our soul.

Not only are we sick, but life doesn’t stop just because we’re ill. We must also encounter the challenges and tragedies of ordinary existence.

Because it requires facing the worst aspects of ourselves and our lives, practicing philosophy is like going to the hospital and the treatment is painful.

This should be a reality check. In case reading the Stoics becomes too fun or a complacent exercise.

Sometimes it’s time for a massive intervention. A philosophy to uproot ourselves and our life. Practicing Stoicism can bring tranquility and peace. But it’s difficult to become courageous, wise, disciplined, and just. Doing so often requires facing the ways in which we have been cowardly, foolish, immoderate, and unnaturally cruel. And then moving forward in the right direction. As Marcus Aurelius put it:

If you can see the road, follow it. Cheerfully, without turning back.

Meditations, 10.12