Philosophy should never be reduced to a mere intellectual hobby, and those who would make it one might be better off finding a different hobby. Could there be anything more foolish, then the man who talks often of philosophy – great teacher of how to live a good life – when in fact his own life is in ruins? What of the man who can recite philosophical treatises, debating skillfully on this point or that, but lives not a single one of those principles – regardless of whether he prefers more to argue for or against them – in his own life? The ancient Stoic philosophers were clearly oriented thus; that philosophy is a means to the best possible way of living, and that a philosopher in word but not deed is not a philosopher at all. The Stoic philosopher Aius Didymus emphasizes this point well when he writes that “It is not the person who eagerly listens to and makes notes of what is spoken by the philosophers who is ready for philosophizing, but the person who is ready to transfer the prescriptions of philosophy to his deeds and to live in accord with them. (Sellars 44)” This sentiment has been echoed throughout the ages of human history by some of the greatest philosophers in our written history, and is particularly central to the Stoic school. For the Stoics, the culmination of philosophy, and it’s fundamental goal, is best expressed in the idealized image of the Stoic sage (Sellars 36).

In order to support the assumption that becoming the sage is the end-goal and purpose of Stoic philosophy, it is important to first understand the role of purpose in the life of a human being. Enter the science of cybernetics, best known for it’s application in developing the technology that operates guided missiles, and less known for it’s applications in human psychology and sociology. Norbert Weiner was one of the pioneers of cybernetics, and is considered to be a primary source and authority in the field. In his book Cybernetics: or Control and Communication in the Animal and the Machine, first published in 1948, he is explicit about the role of purpose in all aspects of human behavior. His assertion is that the mechanics of human behavior are most accurately modeled as a goal striving mechanism which operates on cyclical feedback loops. Even a simple act such as picking up a pencil requires the contraction and release of numerous muscles of which we are consciously unaware. The typical extent of our conscious participation in this act is that of intending to pick up the pencil, and this becomes the goal or purpose that our nervous system sets out to achieve. What happens next is a complex series of muscular contractions, and subsequent error correction, which results in the pencil being picked up. Each muscle contraction results in a subtle movement, and in each instant our nervous system interprets the body’s position in relationship to the pencil and issues new orders to overcorrect the mistakes in our movement (Wiener 8).

While the cybernetic model may not explain the phenomenon of consciously intending the act to happen, it does provide a mathematical basis to explain the mechanics of how the act occurs. And perhaps more importantly, it illuminates the central role of purpose in determining human behavior. Maxwell Maltz later expanded on these cybernetic principles in his influential book Psycho-Cybernetics. It was Maltz who invented the term self-image, which set the functional basis for nearly all self-help and rational psychotherapy systems in existence today (Maltz 1). The cybernetic principle applies not only to the mechanical behavior of people, but applies equally to human motivation on a larger scale. A human being does not act without a purpose. Behind every decision a person makes, there is an established goal, in the form of a self-image, that the person is unconsciously trying to actualize. It is only in rare cases of pathology and neurological damage that a human being is not acting rationally and deliberately, albeit unconsciously, in pursuit of their self-image. Thus it is my assertion that the central role of the sage in Stoic philosophy is an attempt to create a self-image of an individual who embodies the greatest good possible. The purpose of Stoicism is to embed this self-image, so that living in accord with this standard becomes the primary goal of the person, and in time the person will find themselves living the life of the Stoic sage.

Let us now examine some of the core principles of Stoicism. If a person today were to hear the word stoic, they would most likely envision a hard and stubborn man sitting cold and emotionless amidst any circumstance. While there may be an element of truth to that fantasy, it is for the most part a pretty serious departure from the original meaning of the word, at least as it was understood within the Greek and Roman schools of classical philosophy. Stoicism was one of the many classical philosophy systems that emerged in the millennium following the death of the famous Greek philosopher Socrates. It is estimated to have been about 300 BC when Zeno of Citium first founded the school of Stoicism, named as such because he would often teach in an outdoor area called the Painted Stoa in Athens, Greece. Zeno, as head of the Stoa, was succeeded throughout the next few millennia by a great diversity of characters. Of the early Stoics, and Zeno’s most renowned successors – Cleanthes, Chrysippus, Diogenes of Babylon, and Cicero – there survives only sparse fragments of written works. The earliest and most complete Stoic literature comes from the late Greek and Roman Stoics such as Seneca, the ex-slave Epictetus, and the Roman philosopher-king Marcus Aurelius. Classical Stoicism was a complete system of philosophy which integrated distinct theories of logic, physics, and ethics into a unified world view. While the Stoic view of what they called the passions – or bad emotions – has become the trademark characteristic of Stoicism today, that was not the case at the time of it’s conception.

In his Discourses, Epictetus refers to man as a rational animal (Long, G. 8). Therefore, if man is to live in harmony with himself and his environment then he must act according to his own nature, which is to be rational. Contrary to the notion that being stoical requires the suppression of the emotions, such an idea was never taught by any orthodox Stoic (Sellars 119). The Stoics developed a sophisticated taxonomy of the emotions, which generally divided the emotions into a desirable and undesirable category. Desirable emotions, termed eupatheiai, consisted of joy, wishing, sociability, caution, and affection. Undesirable emotions, called the passions, consisted of anger, vexation, desire, pleasure, and grief (Long, A. A. 244). The eupatheiai were thought to be characteristic of a sage, while the passions were thought to be characteristic of a fool. It is interesting to note that pleasure was considered a passion, because to the Stoics, any emotion of extreme pain or pleasure was considered equally undesirable. On pleasure, Marcus Aurelius remarked: “As for pleasure, pirates, catamites, parricides, and tyrants have enjoyed it to the full. (Hammond 53)”

It is also interesting to note that in the traditional view of the Stoa, the passions were not actually considered irrational emotions. So why then did the Stoics claim that these emotions were not in accord with man’s rational nature? The answer is a bit complex, but important to understand if we are to dispel the popular myths that pervert the true stoical relationship to emotions. Since the Stoics considered man to be a rational animal, it followed logically that man could not in fact act irrationally (Long, A. A. 173). What may appear as irrational behavior then, must actually be confused rationality, which is the result of poor judgment or reasoning. All of the emotions are natural impulses of the body, but when we study them closely it becomes apparent that they occur as a result of our opinions, judgments, and reasoning (Sellars 115). Therefore, if the emotions are not so much a product of our external environment but instead of our internal one – which falls entirely within our own volition – then the destructive emotions can be regulated by choosing what kind of judgments prove to be useful and rational and what kind do not. The difference between what the stoics consider good and bad emotions is the difference between skillful and poor reasoning, and the quality of our judgments. Epictetus illustrates this concept clearly in the following excerpt:

If we see someone grieving, we say:
     He’s done for,
A consul and we say:
     The happy man,
And exile and we say:
     The unfortunate one,
A beggar and we say:
     Poor person, he was no means of eating.

These are the bad judgments we need to eliminate and to concentrate on. For what are weeping and sighing? A judgment. What is misfortune? A judgment. What are strife, (sic.) quarelling, blaming, accusing, impiety, fooling around? They are all judgments, nothing more; judgments, moreover, that treat things falling outside volition as being good and bad. If only someone transfers his judgments to the domain of his volition, I guarantee that he will be in a good and firm condition, howsoever things are around him. (Long, A. A. 246)

The Stoics draw a hard line between what is within the scope of a person’s control and what is not, as is evident when Epictetus speaks of things that are “up to us” and things that are not “up to us” (Sellars 113). It is as if we are given a body and thrust without warning upon the stage of life, and we are an actor in a play for which the script has already been written. The power we are given is that of reason, so that we have the capacity give names and apply our opinions to every impression which strikes are senses. And that is a vital point – that we can not control what impresses itself upon our senses, or how. The Stoics believe that it is our reasoning faculty which shapes our soul – or the essence of what kind of person we are – and that we possess the capacity to consciously direct it as we see fit, regardless of external events which are mere circumstance. On this faculty, Epictetus asks “For what else is it that tells us that gold is a goodly thing? For the gold does not tell us. Clearly it is the faculty which can deal with our impressions. (Oates 224)” The fundamental Stoic view on emotion then, and in fact on ethical behavior, is that the ideal sage will direct his own judgments such that no external event could possibly force him to act in discordance with his own nature. And what is this nature, exactly? What is the reference point the sage would use to determine what is in accordance with nature and what is not? The answer springs from the pantheistic view that resides at the heart of Stoic physics, and so in order to understand how the sage perceives his own nature we must first understand how the sage perceives the nature of the universe.

The Stoic conception of physics was greatly inspired by Heraclites, who was famed for saying “you can never step in the same river twice. (www.iep.utm.edu)” Much like in the great Eastern philosophies that regard all phenomenon as a constantly changing illusion, Heraclites asserted that the universe nature of the universe was that it was constantly in flux, and the Stoics take this view as their primary inspiration. However, the Stoics also assert that this unrelenting play of objects is permeated by a substance which enables consciousness in those objects which possess the capacity for reason. This consciousness is at once both the director of the entire universe – god – and the director of each individual object that possesses it – soul. Therefore it is within the power of every rational being to realize his own role in the universe, and to live in accordance with that role (Bobzien 349). This view gives Stoicism a unique blend of fatalistic and pantheistic qualities, particularly in the sentiment that all objects in the physically determined universe are facets of a single and conscious being. To the ancient Stoics, god was not a separate governing entity, but rather the whole of the universe itself, and every individual was an expression of god. This concept is expressed throughout all the Stoic literature we possess today, as can be seen by this passage from Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations: “Revere the ultimate power in the universe: this is what makes use of all things and directs all things. But similarly revere the ultimate power in yourself: this is akin to that other power. In you too this is what makes use of all else, and our life is governed by it. (Hammond 42)”

Now that we have explored some of the more fundamental principles expounded by the ancient Stoic philosophers, we may focus more easily on the defining character of the Stoic sage. First and always, the sage is completely free and unimpeded in his ability and willingness to live his life in accord with his right nature. This kind of Stoic freedom exists completely independent of external events. On this kind of freedom, Marcus Aurelius remarks:

As (sic.) intendest to live when thou art gone out, … so it is in thy power to live here. But if men do not permit thee, then get away out of life, yet so as if thou wert suffering no harm. The house is smoky, and I quit it. Why dost thou think that this is any trouble? But so long as nothing of the kind drives me out, I remain, am free, and no man shall hinder me from doing what I choose; and I choose to do what is according to the nature of the rational and social animal (Oates 523).

The sage knows when it is appropriate to be indifferent. Money, wealth, political power and external possessions, are all notions towards which the sage is indifferent. The sage regards these things as neither worthy of pursuit nor avoidance, and instead seeks happiness within his own volition. On the indifference towards external things, Seneca remarks:

Nature intended that no great equipment should be necessary for happiness. Each one of us is able to make himself happy. External things are of very little importance and actually have no great influence either way. The wise man is not elated by external prosperity or depressed by outer adversity, and this is because he tries always to rely mainly on himself and to find all his joy within himself (Morris 48).

The sage has spent his life in active philosophical inquiry, and has arrived at the logical conclusion that the universe and his place in it must be a determined whole. He has therefore abandoned the idea of external freedom, and realized that his true power lies in the ability to shape his own soul – his attitude towards events which will remain forever outside the scope of his own self-determination. He therefore engages with life willingly, and does not judge the events which might befall himself or any other, for those events are fated to be, and the only proper way for a rational animal to relate to them is to accept them without allowing them to disturb his peace of mind. This concept is expressed throughout numerous Stoic texts through the dog-and-cart analogy:

They maintained that everything is in accordance with fate, and they use the following illustration: that when a dog is tied to a cart, on the one hand, if it wants to follow, it is both pulled and follows, combining what is in its power with Necessity; on the other hand, if it does not want to follow, it will be in any event necessitated. And the same holds for human beings, too. For even if they do not want to, they are in any event necessitated to enter into what is destined (Bobzien 351).

Finally, the sage is the kind of person who lives a virtuous life, in accord with his own nature. He does not value a reward that may be given, sold, or withheld in response to his deeds. He strives to do good because through his curiosity and active engagement in life he has discovered that despite all the madness and foolishness he may see in the world – of which madness and foolishness are no more than his own opinion – the essential nature of the universe is good. The sage lives and dies by these principles, as Socrates did. Above all the sage does not take offence at the world, not even when it oppresses him, does violence to him, or kills him. The sage has made peace with the inevitability of his own death, and knows that a good life is measured by the way one has lived, not the length of time by which they have merely avoided death. Marcus Aurelius remarks intelligently on this point in the following excerpt:

For one whose only good is what comes in its own proper season, who is equally content with a greater or lesser opportunity to express true reason in his actions, to whom it makes no difference whether he looks on this world for a longer or a shorter time – for him even death has no terrors (Hammond 122).

Stoic philosophy contains just as much relevance to our times today, as the so called ancient times in which it was conceived. Man is a relatively new genetic experiment of nature, and man has reason. So why does he not use it? The danger of man, to himself, has been apparent throughout our history, and with amazing technological advances, it is today more apparent than ever. Will man survive? I believe the timeless principles of Stoicism contain some answers to our most profound questions. We must strive to overcome our own destructive emotions and animal instincts. If we fail, then we may soon be, in the words of the late philosopher and comedian George Carlin – just another failed mutation, a genetic cul-de-sac. We are part of a bigger world, and at large we are in the midst of a growth spurt. We are at war with our selves, the animal part with the rational part. In time we will overcome, but it may require our conscious participation. Everything is change and all change is death, and in a relative blink of an eye we will have either overcome this, changed into something else, or wiped ourselves out entirely. Our efforts to tame the natural world may be no more than a projection of our efforts to control our own inner animal. And it is a bit of a paradox that we should have to submit to that animal just as we should have to give up our struggle to control nature – if we are to overcome it. The key is in our own nature, the key is in pure reason. For when reason is the guiding force in our actions, then we are living in accord with our own nature, and nothing natural can go against its own necessity towards self-preservation (Sellars 107).

Works Cited

Bobzien, Susanne. Determinism and Freedom in Stoic Philosophy. Oxford University Press. New York. 1998.

Hammond, Martin. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations. Penguin Group. New York. 2006.

Long, A. A. Epictetus: A Stoic and Socratic Guide to Life. Oxford University Press. New York. 2002.

Long, George. The Discourses of Epictetus, with the Encheiridion and Fragments. A. L. Burt Company, Publishers. New York. 1900.

Maltz, Maxwell. Psycho-Cybernetics. Prentice-Hall, Inc. Englewood Cliffs, NJ. 1960.

Morris, Tom. Stoic Art of Living: Inner Resilience and Outer Results. Carus Publishing Company. Peru, IL. 2004.

Oates, Whitney J. The Stoic and Epicurean Philosophers: The Complete Extant Writings of Epicurus, Epictetus, Sureties, Marcus Aurelius. Random House, Inc. New York. 1940.

Sellars, John. Stoicism. University of California Press. Berkeley and Los Angeles. 2006.

Wiener, Norbert. Cybernetics: or Control and Communication in the Animal and the Machine. MIT Press. Cambridge. 1965.

www.iep.utm.edu