‘Lessons in Stoicism’ Paints a Rough Sketch of Three Very Different Roman Stoics
‘Lessons in Stoicism’, by John Sellars, reviewed.
Supposedly, Stoicism is having a ‘cultural moment’. That may be so, but it is still curious because throughout history, people as diverse as Nelson Mandela, Benjamin Franklin and Montaigne have found value in reading Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Seneca, and others. Stoicism provides time-honoured advice for keeping it together at difficult times and for acting wisely at tricky moments. In Lessons in Stoicism, philosophy professor John Sellars explores the key insights of, and differences between, the three most famous Roman Stoics in what serves as a kind of primer for those drawn to the tradition to which they belonged.
These three Stoic thinkers occupied rather roles from one another. Epictetus was a Greek slave who was later freed and then began to teach philosophy (his name literally means ‘acquired’). Marcus Aurelius, in contrast, was an emperors—one of the so-called ‘Good’ emperors—who ruled the empire through the ceaseless border wars in Germania and the Antonine Plague, which swept through Rome at the high point of his power. Seneca was a dramatist and tutor to the Emperor Nero, which would be a tough gig for anyone. He was also thought to be the richest man in Rome.
Marcus Aurelius was one of the so-called Good Emperors, and ruled the empire at a time of ceaseless border wars in Germania
So these men had different problems. And their diversity throws light on the diverse applications of Stoicism. Fittingly, each emphasises different features of the philosophy. Epictetus, for instance, stresses most of all the ‘dichotomy of control’—that is, the notion that things are either in our control, or are not, and that it makes sense only to concern ourselves only with the former if we want to be at peace. We do not have to strain too hard to understand why this would have special importance to a slave, someone owned by another person and to a large extent under that person’s control.
John does a lovely job of introducing us to Stoicism and to its great Roman champions. What he does not deal with is a question that seems to me to be posed implicitly by such a philosophy. We are not coldly rational beings, nor should we want to be; and if we have ever tried to argue ourselves out of a bad mood then we will know how easily strong emotion trumps reason. To what extent, then, can we get Stoic thinking into our bones, if you like, and become more skilled at using our reason to subdue or transform our feelings? I know of many people who have tried and failed to do this; and, at those who find Stoicism most helpful seem also to be those who tend towards a more ‘systematising’ way of thinking. It skews male for this reason, so long as you accept Simon Baron-Cohen’s finding that men are generally more inclined towards a systematising thinking style. And it should not surprise you that Stoicism has become so popular among tech types.
Epictetus is mostly concerned with what is called the dichotomy of control: things are either in our control, or they are not; thus, we ought to concern ourselves only with the former if we want to be at peace.
Yet Stoicism — and John does discuss this a bit — has inspired or informed various forms of psychotherapy and psychotherapeutic tools still in use today. And much of it was absorbed into Christian thinking when the religion of Jesus of Nazareth was on the up. But it is not John Sellars’s job to confront the question of universal practicability and I am not suggesting he ought to have done. It is also possible that this arises in his more comprehensive and more academic book on the subject, which I have yet to read.
It is something of an accomplishment to condense the thought of these three Romans into a book of barely over a hundred pages. You will likely relate more with one of the three than the others: the slave, the emperor, or the wealthy playwright and tutor. Their personalities colour John’s discussion thanks to his discriminating use of citations: from Seneca’s letters, Epictetus’ transcribed lectures and Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. It is, I would say, a book that piques our curiosity and invites us to learn more not just about the Roman Stoics but the Greek antecedents they have to thank for creating the philosophy of the stoa, the porch.
