by Daniel A. Kaufman
It is no secret that my friend and colleague, Massimo Pigliucci, is a practicing modern Stoic. Indeed, working within and promoting the modern Stoic form of life has become one of his chief projects, including a blog devoted exclusively to the topic – How To Be a Stoic – and a very well-received and popular book of the same name, published by Basic Books. Massimo and I have also done two video dialogues on the subject. (1)
It is also no secret that I have a number of problems with Stoicism as a philosophy of life, many of which I raised with Massimo in our most recent dialogue on How To Be a Stoic. But there is one in particular that stands out for me and that is whether human flourishing is self-sufficient. Massimo thinks it is. I don’t. But this is not just a disagreement between the two of us: it represents a fundamental difference between the Stoic understanding of flourishing and the Aristotelian one.
First, let’s be clear on what is meant by ‘human flourishing’. The Greek term, for which this is our best translation, is ‘Eudaimonia’. It is often translated as ‘happiness’, an unfortunate concession to readability that may have permanently compromised our understanding of the concept, even among those who are perfectly aware of the more literal translation, as Massimo certainly is.
‘Happiness’ in modern English indicates pleasure or good feeling and is entirely subjective: what makes one person happy may not do so for another. Happiness in this sense is self-sufficient, insofar as I can always find the sunny side of something and thereby make myself feel good about it and about myself more generally. If I have a mediocre tennis career or fail to succeed as a scholar or watch my marriage disintegrate into divorce, I may nonetheless be happy, if I am able to convince myself that “it’s the effort that counts, and I did my best” or “everything happens for a good reason” or some other such thing.
But Eudaimonia is not like this. To have lived a Eudaimonic life is to have actually flourished; to have lived a life that is rightly characterized as excellent; as having been worth living, as Socrates would put it. Eudaimonia is a normative concept, which means that unlike the modern concept of happiness, it is not subjective. And given that the success and failure it imagines occur in the world and among other people and thus, depend on things other than oneself and one’s efforts, the Eudaimonic life cannot be self-sufficient.
Being an excellent tennis player depends in part on the quality of my opponents; succeeding in my marriage depends in part on the feelings and actions of my wife; and making it in my career depends on the judgments of journal editorial boards concerning my work, the financial health of my home institution, the interests and desires of the students who pursue degrees at Missouri State, and more. To have flourished in one’s life would seem, at a minimum, to involve success in these sorts of activities and relationships – it is the flourishing of a human life, after all – and clearly, such success depends on variables beyond one’s own efforts, which include a certain level of material well-being, positive native endowments – whether in physical appearance, intelligence, or the like – and more generally, good luck.
Stoics reject this. In particular, they reject the idea that success in the actual world, among actual people, is necessary for human flourishing. Instead, they define ‘Eudaimonia’ so as only to indicate virtue, which is characterized in terms of wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance. The question of whether one has flourished then, is entirely a matter of whether one has been wise, courageous, temperate, and just in the conduct of one’s life, and not whether in doing so, one has actually accomplished the things one set out to do. For the Stoic, all those actual accomplishments and the external variables upon which they depend, are deemed “preferred indifferents,” meaning that while one might legitimately hope for them, they are irrelevant to one’s flourishing, and failing to have or accomplish them should be treated with “equanimity.” The virtues themselves, which non-Stoics would say are valuable, in part precisely because they make success in one’s endeavors and relationships more likely, thereby become fetishized, in that they are torn from the context of their employment and treated as ends in themselves.
This is why Massimo can cite approvingly Cicero’s claim that for an archer, shooting at a target, “the actual hitting of the mark [is] to be chosen but not to be desired” (2) or suggest that in dieting, I should be focused not on whether I’ve actually lost a certain amount of weight, which, obviously depends on various factors that I do not control, but on whether I’ve done my best, which does not. (3)
It is worth noting that in ordinary discourse, such statements are commonly offered as consolation in the face of failure. “You did your best” is what one says to a kid, when his Little League team loses a game or to a friend who wasn’t chosen for a role in a play for which she auditioned. The aim of such talk is to help the other person feel better after having failed. It is not to suggest that they’ve actually won, when they’ve lost, or that succeeding just is trying your best. Such claims would make no sense, given the nature of the endeavors involved: one engages in archery to hit targets, not to try and hit them; one diets in order to lose weight, not to try and lose it; one plays baseball games in order to win them, not try to win them; and one auditions for roles in plays to get those roles, not to try and get them. Consequently, success in these endeavors cannot consist of trying to accomplish them, but only in the actual accomplishment of them.
And yet, this is precisely what the Stoic is telling us that a flourishing life is like: one in which a person has tried to do various things, not in which he has actually accomplished the things he has tried to do. It is a very odd conception of excellence, and in truth, I don’t think it really is one. Rather, what Stoicism describes is an effective way to be happy with one’s life, regardless of whether it is an excellent one or not, and in that sense it is a useful discipline that no one should dismiss. But it is not an account of flourishing in any meaningful sense of the term, for flourishing, in both its technical and ordinary senses, clearly indicates actual success in some endeavor, not merely the earnest and diligent pursuit of it.
It is telling that Massimo’s main objection to Aristotelianism – according to which flourishing means that one actually has succeeded, as opposed to merely trying to – is that it is elitist and unfair, for it confirms my suspicion that rather than an account of Eudaimonia, what Stoicism really offers is consolation in the face of the vicissitudes of fortune. After all, plenty of things that are elitist and unfair are real and true, which means that the point of saddling Aristotelianism with such labels isn’t to indicate that Aristotle is wrong or that the Stoics, whose philosophy is neither elitist nor unfair, are right. Rather, it is to make the point that the Stoic philosophy is more agreeable, in that embracing it will make one feel better about oneself than if one follows the path set by Aristotle. But though this may very well be true, it has nothing whatsoever to do with whether or not one has, in fact, flourished in the living of one’s life.
____
Those who study ancient civilization will distinguish the Classical period of ancient Greece from the Hellenistic, the latter which, both in its arts and its philosophy, reflects a society in turmoil and decline. The Hellenistic philosophies are “philosophies-under-siege,” and I would argue that the chief indication of this is precisely their retreat into the self, of which the doctrine of “indifferents” is a very clear expression. The idea that flourishing is entirely self-sufficient reflects a siege mentality, broadly construed, its purest expression, of course, being the monastic, cloistered life that emerges in the early Christian Middle Ages.
Such an outlook makes sense in times of social disintegration, in which it functions as a kind of existential self-defense program. There was an appropriateness, then, to the development and adoption of these philosophies in the Hellenistic period or in the later days of Rome or in the Dark Ages. In the contemporary world, such an outlook would make sense if one was living in Rwanda or Sierra Leone or Syria. But it seems inappropriate – indeed, it seems rather weird – to adopt such a view of one’s life in a time and place where there is unprecedented material prosperity, longevity, and overwhelming safety, as there is in the modern, industrialized world. One can see the reason for refusing to invest oneself and one’s emotions too much in “externals” in a world in which a person is stalked by tragedy and has every reason to doubt whether he will ever enjoy tangible success in his life. One reasonably adopts such a posture to protect oneself, in short, when one is in extremis. But it is difficult to see why such a philosophy would be reasonable for modern, bourgeois Westerners, who decidedly are not in any such condition.
Notes
- http://meaningoflife.tv/videos/38586; http://meaningoflife.tv/videos/31411
- Massimo Pigliucci, How To Be a Stoic, (New York: Basic Books, 2017), p. 35.
- How to Be a Stoic, p. 37.
Comments
91 responses to “Self-Sufficiency and Human Flourishing”
I don’t see why one mode of life, either Stoicism or Aristotelianism, needs to be superior to another. They have different values,, but the values of both seem positive to me.
They attract different personality types. Stoicism will probably attract people who are more introverted, who seek inner peace and self-awareness as their primary goals, people who have little or no interest in being “successful” in conventional terms. What is wrong with that if it’s an honest project, not a compensation for failing in society at large?
There’s a long tradition in Western (and Eastern) society of people “dropping out” of conventional pursuits and trying to “get their heads together”. You’ve talked about Buddhism with Massimo, and Epicureanism also seems to be a philosophy with similar goals.
I’m not claiming that the meditative tradition is superior to the tradition of seeking success in the external world. I’m also not claiming that there is such a thing as “enlightenment” or “salvation”. I’m merely claiming that seeking inner peace and self-knowledge instead of worldly success are valid goals in any kind of society.
I don’t fully buy into stoicism largely because I don’t think it’s possible to disentangle the internal and external forces to the degree needed to apply the stoic dichotomy of control.
Having said that, this essay feels really uncharitable to me. You seem have pointed to potential downsides of stoicism highlighting one side of the equation that supports your argument but ignoring the other side. You seem to almost be equating stoicism with the current positive psychology movement.
Under my understanding of stoicism properly applied it be much more difficult for one to give themselves credit for ‘ having done their best ‘ than how you characterize it here. The other side of the equation would be one succeeding largely due to good fortune or to advantageous positioning not of their doing.
I would much rather have had the career of NBA point guard Chris Paul as compared to say Robert Horry. Paul has never (yet) been to a western conference final while Horry has something like 6 championships rings. I see Paul as one of the greatest PGs to ever play, and Horry was average player on great teams.
We don’t just shoot arrows at targets to have the arrow end up in the circle. If that were the case we could just walk up to the target and stick the arrow in. We take part in the practice to develop and demonstrate a skill. I think just as much harm can come from focusing on only on ends as from focusing only on means, and I think we have more of a tendency to fall into the former error than the latter.
I agree it is an error to think we do away concern for ends, and I don’t really think it is doable in practice anyway. Ideally I think we can seek to have ends and means folding into each other as a goal. Dewey stressed this quite a bit.
Accusing me of being uncharitable is pretty uncharitable. The essay is earnest and meant in good faith. And I have invited Massimo to respond, which he will.
Perhaps, my objection certainly wasn’t intended in any personal way, ididn’t expect you would take it that way. – I tried to briefly explain why I thought it wasn’t charitable to the various complexities of the stoic position and Massimo would certainly be a better defender of those than I. It just didn’t feel to me like you covered the bases the way you generally do.
In the end I agree that we have to look beyond self-sufficiency. Sartwell has an interesting ‘paradox of essence’ which states that we become most authentically who or what we are through the outward connections we cultivate – which is interesting since he considers himself a type of individualist.
I also thought it was rather clear that I’m really not objecting to Stoicism per se, but rather, to Stoicism if presented as an account of Eudaimonia. I don’t see how actual accomplishment in the world can be left out of any Eudaimonist philosophy of life.
S. Wallerstein: I don’t think I was suggesting anything regarding superiority. Rather, I was making a very specific claim: namely, that Stoicism really isn’t a form of Eudaimonism.
If your goal is inner peace, wouldn’t achieving peace of mind, through Stoic practice, be considered “success in some endeavor” and thus, eudaimonia?
By peace of mind, I don’t refer to any kind of absolute state such as nirvana, but relative freedom from one’s hangups,
obsessions, and inauthentic needs and desires especially those which one sees as stupid and/or irrational and feels have been imposed upon one from within and not freely chosen.
I suppose that you have a point that goals within society can be easily defined and limited (e.g. I want to get my book published or I want to be elected city-councilperson), while inner goals are more open and can never be finally reached: that is, except in Buddhist mythology, one never attains inner peace, one is always striving towards it.
This is something I have a hard time accepting. We are not disembodied Cartesian egos, but embodied beings who live and act and form relationships in the world. It would be very strange if that had nothing to do with what it means for a human being to flourish.
It would have to be inner peace within the context of a determined society, within the context of whatever human relationships one has. It seems to be that a person with inner peace would form good human relationships, perhaps not with people who need constant entertainment, loud music and canned laughter.
Dan
Your basic point looks sound to me.
And you are right to draw parallels between Stoicism and Christianity (which in its traditional forms incorporated large chunks of Stoicism). Both Stoicism and Christianity see moral factors as being the only significant ones. And – I agree – they are not.
“One can see the reason for refusing to invest oneself and one’s emotions too much in “externals” in a world in which a person is stalked by tragedy and has every reason to doubt whether he will ever enjoy tangible success in his life. One reasonably adopts such a posture to protect oneself, in short, when one is in extremis…”
This is probably the only claim I would quibble with, as I tend to see us all as being “stalked by tragedy”. I guess I have a darker view than you do of the human condition, even as we experience it in the relatively prosperous West.
I’ve always thought that an embrace of moral luck, the tragic conflicts that can sometimes appear between different goods, and the fact that flourishing simply isn’t possible for everyone in every circumstance is one of the strongest selling points of Aristotelian ethics.
I can understand, in the abstract, why people would be attracted to Stoicism and other “moralities of denial”. But I do agree with the article, it is a strange way to conceive of _doing well_.
Aristotle was of course of his era (as summarised by Duke 2012; Mayhew limits himself only to the biology)::
“Human perfection is to have human nature without defect, and to be well-born (i.e., not physically defective), well-formed (i.e., cultured and virtuous), and fortunate (i.e., free from misfortune or tragedy). Aristotle understands the perfect life of the perfectible male to be the telos of human nature: god-like in his posture, rationality, virtue, and seminal potency; with a woman to bear his seed, a natural slave to be an extension of his body, friends to mirror his magnanimity, and a city to benefit from his contemplation of truth and goodness…Naturally defective, women and natural slaves do not have the full potential to realize the telos of the human being.”
And LeDoeuff quotes the bit that “no-one can imagine a slave experiences happiness, because in that case, one would have to ‘attribute a human existence to him too’”. As per Graeber, slaves were given the choice between social death (I suppose with its implicit loss of the possibility of eudaemonia) or actual death. Gene Wolfe’s series of novels starting with Soldier of Arete plays a lot with this stuff – his hero is at one time enslaved, and of course is the best possible slave one can be (Wolfe would know his Nietzsche).
Duke’s thesis is on how Aristotle is altered by Aquinas to deal with intellectual disability.
So second-raters, women, slaves and the disabled cannot attain eudaemonia. Maybe we can rescue this by extending the possibility eudaemonia to everyone? Or by accepting that the relevant norms are flexible (arbitrary in the case of modern disability theory, and perhaps the capabilities approach?). Then I guess we end up closer to the Stoics – Epictetus was apparently recommended reading for 18th Century gentlewomen to learn how to gracefully put up with their lot.
I agree that there is a sense in which flourishing IS measured by ‘success’, whatever that may be, and that it seems strange to overlook it. In that sense it depends on this measurability, is not self-sufficient, just as you say.
You bring up specific activities where flourishing depends on the outcomes, and I agree that this at least occasionally seems important. The tennis player plays to win and requires adequate competition to become the best possible. But if success in tennis is an example of flourishing, the success itself does not seem to be the only source worth considering.
What if you actually HATE playing tennis? What if you could win every match but it would bore you? What if you are playing, not to win but for some other agenda? Having a fun time with friends, for instance? What if tennis is simply the wrong game for you and no matter how good you were at it you would never point to your ‘success’ and describe it as ‘flourishing’?
The point I am aiming at is that flourishing can only get measured at all if one is doing something that ALREADY has value. If tennis matters to me then I can flourish playing tennis. If being an artist matters to me then I can flourish as an artist. If Philosophy matters to you then and only then can you flourish as a philosopher.
And sometimes it doesn’t matter how well we do those things in any measurable sense but simply that we get to do them. Sometimes it is more important to do these things than that we are any ‘good’ at them. If I am fulfilled by being an artist I may still hate most of what I make, others may not get what I am doing, and I might never make a decent living from it, but it is what I am called to do, and any measure of flourishing that did not start with being an artist would be beside the point.
The question for me always seems to be “What is the measure, and what is being measured?”
Any of that make any sense?
Not sure what the relevance of this is to my essay, which makes a very specific argument.
Aristotle in I.10 does a balancing between eudaemonia as focused on ends and as the power behind the more unchanging aspects of character.
Here we have an anticipation of stoic values which are resistant to vicissitude. Having a firm rational character helps you to retain your equipoise and makes you more effective in the achievement of your aims and objectives. Aristotle maintains that placing eudaemonia entirely in the achievement of goals may mean that your eudaemonic index may change up or down after you are dead. You have locked yourself into a causal chain. Is this irony or a reductio?
If anything Aristotle leans on what might be called being values, the strong stable aspects of character such as virtue, rationality, prudence, temperance etc. When they are strong the becoming values evinced by goals which are subject to vicissitude can be achieved more consistently. In summary, process and product are important. For the stoic the process is all important, the end will take care of itself.
I don’t think Aristotle is being ironic when he suggests that we can only truly deem someone’s life eudaimonic after death. It’s precisely because eudaimonia does depend on externals.
Dan-K,
I agree wholeheartedly with your criticism of Stoicism.
“Such an outlook makes sense in times of social disintegration, in which it functions as a kind of existential self-defense program. There was an appropriateness, then, to the development and adoption of these philosophies in the Hellenistic period or in the later days of Rome or in the Dark Ages.”
Carlin Barton makes exactly this point in her book Roman Honor. The transition from Republic to Empire introduced unprecedented menace and their response, as she said, was a retreat into Stoicism.
But I differ from you in that I think there is a third path to Eudaimonia, neither achievement of excellence nor achievement of virtue. This is eloquently described by Carlin as the glowing spirit. This is the the passionate, the total, the absolute, all consuming commitment to purpose that defines the nobility of one’s existence. She puts it this way:
The glowing spirit sees life as a contest in the pursuit of a noble goal. The manner of this contest defines us, refines us and exalts us. That exaltation, in my mind is Eudamonia, not the pacifist quietism of the Stoic or the contented achievement of the Aristotelian.
Labnut: This is a nice comment, with a lot of interesting points. That said, I don’t see how any account of flourishing — as opposed to an account of happiness — can be sustained in the absence of any notion of concrete, actual achievement in the world. The point of “total, the absolute, all consuming commitment to purpose” after all, is, at the end of the day, to accomplish something.
Dan-K,
“The point of “total, the absolute, all consuming commitment to purpose” after all, is, at the end of the day, to accomplish something.”
Indeed. But where is the accomplishment located? In the individual or the society that contains the individual? Both the Stoic’s enduring virtue and the Aristotelian craftsman-like excellence are located primarily in the individual.By contrast the glowing spirit is located primarily in the society and that is where the achievement is measured. I can think of no greater example than the sailors and soldiers, on HMS Birkenhead, who sacrificed their lives for the women and children, giving rise to what is now known as the Birkenhead Drill.
The glowing spirit cannot exist apart from society and his contributions are the manner in which he shapes society by the example of his behaviour. I maintain that it is the glowing spirit that has animated and shaped Western society so that it has become the leader in nearly all fields. Today the glowing spirit is slowly being extinguished by the suffocating embrace of hedonism and narcissism. Success has become its own punishment.
Remember that we do not truly live in the present because the present dies in a moment. We are instead continuously falling into the future. What really defines us is how we greet that future. The future brings with it uncertainty and dread. We may succumb to the uncertainty/dread or we may anaesthetise ourselves against it with surfeit(drugs, alcohol, food, sex, etc) . We may endure it, as the Stoics would or we may face the future with passionate determination so that we may bend it to our will. This is what the glowing spirit does.
Dan: Here’s a thought experiment.
If I am obese and I could take a magic pill to return me to normal weight, I would take it without any qualms. There’s no value in the effort to lose weight.
If I am a poor archer and I could take a magic pill that would make me a first-rate archer, would I take it? I hope not. There’s real value in the effort to become a better archer. The point holds even if I don’t do competitive archery, where taking the pill would be cheating. (I think this was sethleon’s argument above.)
In some things the effort is part of the value of the activity, in some other things it is not. But I’m not sure how to generalise beyond those examples to other activities.
However, if the bigger issue is between making the internal effort or the external success the only thing of value, then this seems to be a false dichotomy.
Alan
I thought it was quite clear that for the Stoic it is purely an internal matter. Externals are “preferred indifferents.”
Dan (with nods to ombhurbhuva and davidlduffy),
If Aristotle had been a Stoic, he could never have written the Poetics. The primary function of the tragic in literary works is precisely to remind us that no matter how successful or virtuous a person is, calamity can bring us low.
Oedipus defends himself on the road; he kills the man doing so, but that is not unheard of. He comes to Thebes and solves a problem for its citizens so well that they acclaim him king and marry him to the widow of their lost king. So far, there is naught amiss, Oedipus has a new home, a new community where he is welcomed, a new family…. But, as they say – shit happens.
Achilles reluctantly joins the Greeks at Troy. He is wary of the prophecy that he will meet his death there, but he’s a ‘good Greek,’ so to speak – until Agamemnon publicly humiliates him – then he has every right to go off and sulk on the beach playing his lyre. But his beloved Patroclus has other ideas, and well… shit happens.
One thing to bear in mind here is that nobody plans on tragedy happening; no one rejects eudaimonia, nobody says, ‘hell, I don’t want to flourish.’ They may not feel they can flourish; they may not see any possibility of flourishing in a given situation. Or they may have enough experiences to believe that the era of their potential flourishing is at an end. Certainly, the older people get, the more open to stoic attitudes some may become, if not to a systematic Stoic philosophy.
Certainly, there are some Western Buddhists who have contributed to the cult of Eudaimonia and human-flourishing fetishizing now current. I am not one of these. From my perspective, as a Buddhist, the kind of systematic Stoicism that has recently been argued for suffers from being far too optimistic concerning the human condition. As humans, we are here to live with what that means and what comes with it. In human community, our goal is not happiness but companionship – and companionship carries with it risks and responsibilities. If we fulfill our obligations and make our contributions earnestly, we may be rewarded – but maybe not – shit happens.
So, I do see the possibility of some meditational practice as a useful means for dealing with
… the whips and scorns of time,
Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes….
But I agree that eudaimonia is best understood as an external measure of the success of one’s efforts to live a good life in community.
And there’s also the broader question of how any philosophy dealing with a sense of the tragic or potentially tragic in life addresses itself properly to a culture “in a time and place where there is unprecedented material prosperity, longevity, and overwhelming safety, as there is in the modern, industrialized world.” And yet, I think it has its place (although unsure what it is), for the simple reason that – shit happens. That, death, and taxes – the only certainties in this world.
E.J.:
Classical Greece seems stranger to me than even the India of the Buddha and Shankaracarya. No propitiation could placate the Moirai. No karma could offset that inevitability.
From Louis MacNeice’s Autumn Journal Part IX:
The Glory that was Greece: put it in a syllabus, grade it
Page by page
To train the mind or even to point a moral
For the present age:
Models of logic and lucidity, dignity, sanity,
The golden mean between opposing ills
Though there were exceptions of course but
only exceptions
The bloody Bacchanals on the Thracian hills.
So the humanist in his room with Jacobean panels
Chewing his pipe and looking on a lazy quad
Chops the Ancient World to turn a sermon
To the greater glory of God.
But I can do nothing so useful or so simple;
These dead are dead
And when I should remember the paragons of Hellas
I think instead
Of the crooks, the adventurers, the opportunists,
The careless athletes and the fancy boys,
The hair-splitters, the pedants, the hard-boiled sceptics
And the Agora and the noise
Of the demagogues and the quacks; and the women pouring
Libations over graves
And the trimmers at Delphi and the dummies at Sparta
and lastly
I think of the slaves.
And how one can imagine oneself among them
I do not know;
It was all so unimaginably different
And all so long ago.
My point about the false dichotomy is that there seem to be three possible positions: purely internal, purely external, and mixed. I’m supporting the mixed view.
labnut,
welcome back. I am sure you will find much to dislike in my comments (as I sometimes find in yours). But that is no reason for you to silence yourself here.
Dan, would you day the same about the Epicurean (and, I guess also, Cyrenaic) view(s) – “that’s not actually eudaimonistic”?
I very well might. But I’d have to reacquaint myself with the two traditions to a far greater extent before I’d want to commit.
Hello Daniel Kaufman.
Great article. I’ve been following your blog and Massimo’s for some time now, and I think this post is excellent, you lay out a clear difference between Stoicism and Aristotelianism quickly and efficiently.
You argue, convincingly, that Stoicism is not a Eudaimonistic philosophy, because in a very real sense, it ignores external or social success. I don’t fully agree, but I think you do a great job making this point.
I take you to mean that Stoicism has one definition of Eudaimonia, and Aristotle another. And that wisely, Aristotle’s definition requires we wait until after death to call someone’s life Eudaimonistic, because we have to account for external things outside of their control, especially and perhaps most importantly, the quality and quantity of their social relationships. Whatever attitude a Stoic holds towards ‘preferred indifferents,’ whether they be people, things, or success, most of us are more naturally Aristotelians in seeing these externals as anything but an ‘indifferent’ matter. You put it well when you said:
“To have flourished in one’s life would seem, at a minimum, to involve success in these sorts of activities and relationships – it is the flourishing of a human life, after all – and clearly, such success depends on variables beyond one’s own efforts, which include a certain level of material well-being, positive native endowments – whether in physical appearance, intelligence, or the like – and more generally, good luck. Stoics reject this.”
Still, as a lover of Stoic and Aristotelian philosophy, I’d like to offer a different way of looking at the problem. You seem to say that a truly Eudaimonistic philosophy requires virtuous success, virtuous social relationships, and some virtuous ‘externals.’ I’d agree wholeheartedly with you and Aristotle’s way of seeing the good life. Insofar as Stoicism prevents us from achieving this good life, Aristotle is preferable.
But how best are we to achieve Aristotle’s good life? Sure, Aristotle provides guides, select the proper friends, and proper habits etc. This is good advice. But I think that Aristotle is better at describing a (Eudaimonistic) good life than he is about prescribing how to live one. Stoicism, by contrast, is better at prescribing how to live. I’d go so far as to venture that an authentic practicing Stoic is more likely to achieve the Eudaimonia an Aristotelian desires than a authentic practicing Aristotelian. You almost say something similar yourself:
“[Perhaps] Stoic philosophy is more agreeable, in that embracing it will make one feel better about oneself than if one follows the path set by Aristotle. But though this may very well be true, it has nothing whatsoever to do with whether or not one has, in fact, flourished in the living of one’s life.”
You say a weakness of Stoicism is that it is a philosophy of consolation towards the ‘vicissitudes of fortune:
“It is worth noting that in ordinary discourse, such statements are commonly offered as consolation in the face of failure. “You did your best” is what one says to a kid, when his Little League team loses a game or to a friend who wasn’t chosen for a role in a play for which she auditioned. The aim of such talk is to help the other person feel better after having failed. It is not to suggest that they’ve actually won, when they’ve lost, or that succeeding just is trying your best. […] It is telling that Massimo’s main objection to Aristotelianism – according to which flourishing means that one actually has succeeded, as opposed to merely trying to – is that it is elitist and unfair, for it confirms my suspicion that rather than an account of Eudaimonia, what Stoicism really offers is consolation in the face of the vicissitudes of fortune.”
Rather than a weakness, I see this as a positive strength for Stoicism. I think seeing the ‘necessary parts’ of the Aristotelian Eudaimonic life as ‘preferred indifferents,’ and acting with Stoic regard towards them is more likely to create Aristotle’s Eudaimonia, than Aristotle’s own suggested ways of achieving Eudaimonia.
That Stoicism prepares us to expect failure, akrasia, and uncertainty is a strength, because, as Aristotle would agree, any learning, especially how to improve one’s character, guarantees a certain amount of regular failure. A philosophy with better consoling powers, which in the end, actually helps us learn more, is precisely what a Eudaimonistic life requires.
This is also why I must disagree with the way in which you paint the Hellenistic philosophies as “under-siege” or “retreats into the self” that are inappropriate for a “modern, bourgeois, westerner.” Whatever society you live in, with whatever rights it does or does not grant, however politically stable or unstable, cultivating virtue in one’s personal character, relationships, and society is difficult in the face of failure, akrasia, uncertainty.
So, I think the most fair way in which to claim that Stoicism is not a Eudaimonistic philosophy is to either show that Stoics cannot achieve Aristotle’s Eudaimonia at all, or that they regularly (and akratically) fail to achieve Aristotle’s Eudaimonia more often than Aristotleans because of some flaw in Stoic theory or practice. Otherwise, someone who claims, as you do, that Stoicism is not a Eudaimonistic philosophy, seems to just be saying that Stoicism fails to be Aristotelian in its theories. And as you mentioned in the comments, the point “at the end of the day is to accomplish something.”
In any event, I really must thank you for this post of yours. I spent most of the last 24 hours thinking about it. You keep a great blog and I look forward to reading more from you, and would love to get a response from you.
-Chris
I think you may have understood me a little. I did not mean to suggest that the consolatory dimension of Stoicism is a weakness, but only that it is an indication that it is not a form of Eudaimonism.
If anything, I suggested that its capacity to console is a strength. I said no one should dismiss it, when considered in that light.
I very much appreciate your kind, thoughtful comment and hope you will comment here in the future, whatever the topic.
Dan, I took your argument to be this: “given that the success and failure it imagines occur in the world and among other people and thus, depend on things other than oneself and one’s efforts, the Eudaimonic life cannot be self-sufficient.” The way you illustrate it the point “at the end of the day is to accomplish something”, that “one engages in archery to hit targets, not to try and hit them; one diets in order to lose weight, not to try and lose it; one plays baseball games in order to win them, not try to win them; and one auditions for roles in plays to get those roles, not to try and get them. Consequently, success in these endeavors cannot consist of trying to accomplish them, but only in the actual accomplishment of them.”
I agree that it seems wrong to paint flourishing as purely internal and self-sufficient. I agree also that we need to make sense of flourishing as something that happens in the world. My question is in what sense flourishing *depends* on externals. Are things like winning sufficient conditions? If as you say *the* *point* at the end of the day is accomplishing something then it almost seems you might be making that case. The example I proposed of hating tennis despite being good at it was meant to show that ‘success’ is not sufficient for flourishing. It is an odd flourishing where we absolutely hate what we are successful at.
I can’t really see that you set out precisely what the connection between externals and flourishing is, but my other example was meant to show that the externals are not always necessary. That is, while you paint ‘success’ as important if not essential to flourishing (or at minimum to “accomplish something”), sometimes success is not the measure of flourishing but rather *that* we are doing what we feel we are meant to be doing, regardless of how things turn out. The facts about success and failure are not nearly as important as what they mean in our lives. The point here is that value is not simply extrinsic or something necessarily measured but that the value of a flourishing life sometimes depends on *the* *measure* *itself*. THAT I get to be an artist rather than how successful I am at it. This still makes flourishing IN the world, involved with externals, but the point I am making is that flourishing is not *dependent* on them specifically. Flourishing is not necessarily tested by our success and failure.
There is a third choice between the purely subjective and the independent and measurable external. The third choice is what Wittgenstein was chasing down in much of his work. What are the hinges about which other things turn? What is the logic upon which activities depend? Not everything of value is at all times measurable. If flourishing sometimes is, sometimes depends on our successes, there is also a sense in which flourishing sometimes also depends on the framework itself, that my flourishing depends on me doing this thing that matters to me rather than something else and no matter how good at it I might be. The point may not be winning at chess but that we get to play the game.
We have been discussing the terms Eudaimonia or flourishing. I would like to throw another term into the pot, Ikigai. See this BBC article for a short description:
http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20170807-ikigai-a-japanese-concept-to-improve-work-and-life
Ikigai may be thought of as the Japanese rough equivalent to Eudaimonia. It has been variously described as
– “purpose in action”
– “a term that embodies happiness in living”
– “essentially the reason you get up in the morning”
They think of it as being the intersection between four things:
1) the things you value
2) the things you love doing
3) the things you are good at doing
4) the things the world needs.
What lies at their intersection is what gives you an especial sense of valued purpose. Their combination is a kind of synergy that ignites and illumines life. It lights up and directs your life in a way that is uniquely rewarding for yourself.
Thank you so much for your kind response Daniel! Yes, I think I did misunderstand you.
Your response has raised a question for me when you said that:
‘ I did not mean to suggest that the consolatory dimension of Stoicism is a weakness, but only that it is an indication that it is not a form of Eudaimonism.‘
What would you consider ‘other forms’ of Eudaimonism besides Aristotle’s account of Eudaimonia?
Since you see that Stoicism is not a form of Eudaimonism, what exactly is a legitimate form of Eudaimonism other than Aristotle’s way of seeing and living in the world?
For example, how fares Plato, Epicurus, the Cynics, Skeptics, or the Cyreneacs as forms of Eudaimonism? Or to move father afield, how bout someone like Confucius? Who else do you see has a valid form of Eudaimonism aside from Aristotle?
Now, perhaps I am once again misunderstanding you, but from what I’ve gathered in this post it seems that you may appear to see that only Aristotle’s account of Eudaimonia is legitimate. If this is the case, then charging Stoicism with not being a form of Eudaimonism seems somewhat unfair, which was what I was trying to get (very poorly) in my earlier comment.
Now, perhaps you’ve covered my question in another post, and I just have read it. In which case, I’d be curious to read it if you could link it. Or not, in which case, I’m curious what you think.
In any case, once again, thanks for the awesome post and kind comment. I look forward to reading more, and will definitely comment more often in the future.
-Chris
I can’t answer you in great detail, because I do not have sufficient expertise with regard to all the figures you mention.
I would simply say that a genuine Eudaimonism cannot construe flourishing as entirely an internal affair. That is, it must include some actual accomplishment, in the endeavors to which one sets oneself.
Plutarch raises some interesting questions. Doesn’t Plato or Socrates in the Gorgias consider flourishing as an internal matter?
They might. I don’t know them nearly as well as I know Aristotle.
I think I beginning to see what you are getting at Daniel. Please, if you could, correct me if I misunderstand.
First, I assume you mean that Aristotle’s theory counts as a genuine form of Eudaimonism. You write:
“I would simply say that a genuine Eudaimonism cannot construe flourishing as entirely an internal affair. That is, it must include some actual accomplishment, in the endeavors to which one sets oneself.”
I take you to mean that [Aristotle’s] theory of Eudaimonism, which is ‘genuine,’ sees a flourishing life as one which achieves some external success in inner goals set for one self, whatever the target of such goals are. However, if the goal is the improvement of our character, understood primarily as our our private mental states, this does not count as ‘external success.’ On these grounds, Stoic theory is not a form of Eudaimonism, as it rejects most of what we would normally see as ‘external success’ as ‘preferred indifferents’, and the only external success Stoic theory sees as possible, or desirable is the improvement of our private mental states.
So far as I can tell, you rejected the idea that inner peace is ‘external success’ when you talked to S. Wallerstein earlier, because you would prefer not to see ourselves as ‘disembodied Cartesian egos.’ I fully agree and sympathize with you there, I recall quite fondly when Bertrand Russel called Cartesian mind body dualism an insanity from which Western Philosophy has struggled to recover… I think your wariness to let Eudaimonism simply by a private act of mental tranquility or mere theory is wise. Truly, any theory that sees the world the world in such an impoverished way, is, as you point out, a kind of inappropriate ‘retreat into the self.’
Now, this is where I might really be mistaken about what you are saying, so please be patient with me.
I assume that ancient philosophy (Stoicism, and Aristotelianism therefore included) is, in the words of Pierre Hadot, primarily a way of life filled with sets of ‘spiritual exercises’ designed to transform the self. Stoic theory and practice support each other, as Aristotlean theory and practice support each other.
The primary goal of Stoicism, as I understand it, the actual creation of a character which engages in habitual virtuous conduct, not merely inner peace and private mental states. Inner peace supports virtuous conduct, and vice versa, but the primary goal is always virtuous conduct in the external world. This is why Musonius Rufus and Seneca habitually make fun of logicians who imagine themselves Stoics. Just knowing the theory isn’t enough to be a Stoic. Stoicism is a matter of conduct, just as much, if not more than a theory. The same, I see, is also true of Aristotleanism, it is also a way of life with a theory and practices. Even if we see that Aristotle thinks that the life of contemplation, or theoretical wisdom (instead of practical wisdom) is the best, this theoretical life is created, supported, and maintained by habitual virtuous action, practice, and conduct.
My best guess, is that you don’t seem to see things like this, but I could very well be wrong.
My guess, is that you see Aristotlean Eudaimonism, as well as Stoicism, as primarily a theory without practice.
While I could be wrong, I suspect that if you saw either Stoicism or Aristotelian (or both) as a way of life, where the theory supported practices, and vice versa, that you would not claim that Stoicim is not a form of Eudaimonism.
I’m inclined to think you might want to see things like I do though, because, as you wisely point out, genuine Eudaimonism, is about ‘accomplishing something’ with ‘external success’ rather than just mere mental states of inner peace, that are in the end, mere ‘retreats into the self.’ If Aristotleanism is just about theory, which is how I see you painting it, then to me it fails to also be genuine Eudaimonsim under the criteria you lay out.
If you see as I do that Stoicism as about creating habitual conduct, the idea that it is no form of Eudaimonism is incoherent. Unless by ‘Eudaimonism’, you mostly mean, just a theory, and just an Aristotlean one at that.
And if that’s the case, I think that is precisely where we disagree. Which is also fine!
Of course, once again, I could very well be misunderstanding you, in which case, please correct me.
Plutarch,
“If you see as I do that Stoicism as about creating habitual conduct, the idea that it is no form of Eudaimonism is incoherent.”
But what kind of habitual conduct does it lead to? Aye, there’s the rub. I, and I suspect Dan-K, think it is the wrong form of conduct. Stoicism is after all a failed philosophy.
Plutarch:
“The primary goal of Stoicism, as I understand it, the actual creation of a character which engages in habitual virtuous conduct.”
= = =
That, indeed, is the problem. As I have argued elsewhere, I do not believe that this can suffice for a flourishing life. Indeed, I think — along with Susan Wolf — that one can be moral too much. (I have favorably cited her paper “Moral Saints” along these lines.)
Eudaimonia is flourishing in a *human* life. A rich, complete human life has to include much more than moral virtue. Precisely the problem with Stoicism is that it claims that flourishing consists solely of virtue.
Didn’t the Greeks have a different idea of virtue than we do?
I doubt that any Greeks or Romans thought of being moral as Peter Singer does.
Virtue for the Greeks involved enjoying life’s pleasures with moderation: they had no idea that any sexual acts were evil nor that eating any kind of food was immoral. While they tried to behave justly towards their peers, they had no problems with tolerating slavery nor did they worry at all that there was famine in Ethiopia, as Singer urges us to do.
While I agree with you that some people these days overdo the moral outlook, I don’t see the Stoics or any Greeks as doing that.
S. Wallerstein: The Stoic virtues do not include the sorts of excellence in activity that Aristotle’s conception of Eudaimonia does. I listed the Stoic virtues in my essay.
S. Wallerstein: And importantly, the Stoic conception of Eudaimonia does not require that one actually succeed in any external activity.
You point out that wisdom is one of the Stoic virtues: seeing everything in moral terms, as Singer and others do, isn’t wise.
Another Stoic virtue, as you say above, is moderation, and moderation dictates a certain sense of proportion that seems to be lacking in those who want us to chose our dinner according to absolute moral rules. From what I know of the Greeks and Romans, they were not Puritans. Examine the lives of two of the most famous Stoics, Seneca and Marcus Aurelius: they were by no means puritans and both enjoyed a great deal of success in political terms. I bet that both of them had varied sex lives and ate interesting menus.
S. Wallerstein: That may be, but Massimo makes it quite clear that actual success in any activities is not required for flourishing.
Labnut:
But what kind of habitual conduct does it lead to? Aye, there’s the rub. I, and I suspect Dan-K, think it is the wrong form of conduct. Stoicism is after all a failed philosophy.
What kind of conduct you ask? The restraint of anger. The ability to disagree respectfully with others. The ability to act without fear of the future or anxiety over the past. And so on. I have two questions for you. What do you mean when you saw Stoicism leads to the wrong conduct? Or that “Stoicism is after all a failed philosophy?”
I don’t quite see how it is self evident that Stoicism leads to the wrong conduct, or that it is a failed philosophy. Please show me what you mean.
—
S. Wallerstein:
I think you are on to something. Being a Stoic does not mean that you cannot achieve external success. And there are plenty of Stoics who achieve external success, no doubt, in great part due to their practice of Stoicism.
Stoicism is very well suited towards encouraging people to learn to achieve external success, precisely because it trains them to think systematically through the causes of their failures and engage in habitual behavior to remedy such failures.
That said, we don’t address Daniel’s arguments by saying that some Stoics succeed. We simply avoid them if we take this tack, we do Daniel no justice on the terms he argues. A practicing Stoic is well aware that their success in anything outside of their sphere of control is a ‘preferred indifferent.’
We might say that a Stoic is likely to achieve a Eudaimonic life. I’d say that. But since the Stoics think that a human life is still a flourishing one, even when it achieves no success in external affairs, Daniel thinks otherwise. At least if I understand him properly.
—
Daniel:
Your arguments are sound.
Stoicism is in trouble if you see the primary test of Stoicism as being it’s theories coherence with the Aristotlean theory of Eudaimonia.
Yet, I remain unconvinced.
It appears to me as if you are charging Stoic theory with it’s failure to conform to Aristotlean theory. In which case, guilty as charged.
I rather think we miss the point and nature of both Stoicism and Aristotelianism by looking at them as primarily theories rather than ways of life, but to each their own. In any event, thanks for the discussion Daniel.
My garden is flourishing after the recent Spring rains. Violent crime and corruption are also flourishing in our region. Our economy is no longer flourishing. My local Catholic parish church is flourishing. My health is flourishing.
So what kinds of flourishing are we talking about? Clearly some kinds of flourishing matter more than others. Some are more desirable than others.
1) My garden is flourishing.
Perhaps the gardener was imbued with a sense of excellence and beauty. She exhibited planning, persistence, hard work and determination.
2) Violent crime and corruption are flourishing.
Some people certainly pursue excellence(of a kind) in their ways of obtaining wealth and power.
3) Our regional economy has ceased flourishing.
The trust, cooperative spirit, administrative apparatus and skills set required for a flourishing economy have declined.
4) Our local parish church is flourishing.
It has become the hub for compassionate, ethical people who wish to promote good in the world.
5) My health is flourishing, having recovered from severe physical and emotional trauma.
Persistent, determined distance running may be responsible.
Clearly flourishing has many aspects, some rather more desirable than others. What conclusions can we draw from my examples?
Flourishing, of the right kind, requires the combination of
1) virtuous conduct(including intellectual virtue)
2) social conduct
3) a dedication to excellence
4) resilience
5) strong determination
6) compassionate love.
I would sum it up this way. Flourishing requires
1) the pursuit of excellence in, and love of, the True, the Good and the Beautiful.
2) a sensitive balance between social and individual needs, illuminated by love.
3) determined resilience.
Aristotelian and Stoic concepts make strong contributions to this holistic concept of flourishing but, neither, in my opinion, are sufficient. Western society has been flourishing precisely because it arrived at an effective blend of these elements by the syncretic combination of Jewish, Greek, Roman and Christian thought.
To that I will add that we can learn a lot from studying the most effective society of all time, the Jews. Strangely enough, the detailed, written strategy for their survival has survived intact over thousands of years! I have a copy and regularly read portions of it. It is a remarkable document.
“Stoicism is after all a failed philosophy.”
No one responded to my provocation, so I will. It was a bit of an extreme statement and also unfair since success can also be measured by impact and not just numbers.
Daniel Kaufman,
I’m not contesting your claim that success in the external world is not required for flourishing in Stoicism, but your affirmation above that Stoicism, by affirming that only virtue matters (other goods are preferred indifferents) is comparable to the kind of contemporary moralism which you and Daniel Tippens criticize so well in the latest episode of Meaning of Life TV.
The content of Stoic virtue ethics is completely different than that of contemporary “everything is moral” philosophy, what you and Daniel T call “universal moral status”, if I recall correctly.
Justice for a Greek or Roman Stoic means dealing justly with one’s peers (neighbors or workmates in contemporary terms), but worrying about whether the chicken you eat was bred justly (I say that although I’ve been a vegetarian for about half of my 71 years).
The Greek or Roman Stoic would not worry whether the money with which I buy a book for myself or for my grand daughter could be used more “morally” to deal with famine in Africa.
I think that is due to the fact that the Greek and Roman Stoics (and Greek and Roman philosophers in general) saw moderation and wisdom as virtues with the same importance as justice, while people like Peter Singer see justice as the most important virtue.
I identify more with the Epicureans than with the Stoics myself and I know that for the Epicureans friendship was a prime virtue, and as you point out in your Meaning of Life video, the moral saint priorizes justice for chickens over friendship in the here and now.
in my third paragraph above, I say “but worrying” when I mean “not worrying”.
Plutarch: I think it is in trouble if it fails to acknowledge that human flourishing must take place in the actual world, with actual people. That it is not a purely internal affair. That we are by nature active, social animals and that it cannot be possible for creatures like us to flourish, without actual accomplishment in the world and among other people.
The problem isn’t that Stoicism fails to conform with Aristotle. The problem — at least, as I see it — is that Aristotle conforms to the reality of human nature and human life more than Stoicism does.
S. Wallerstein: Sorry, I misunderstood you. Yes, you are correct that the Stoic conception of virtue is not like that of the Moral Saint, as Wolf conceives it. But it is closer to it than Aristotle’s conception of flourishing, which is not just about virtue.
I actually think the Stoic’s approach is compelling in part *because* of the safe and thriving conditions of life in the modern industrialized world. There are so many choices and opportunities, and within our diverse society there are so many contradictory narratives about what constitutes success, that even if you narrow the definition of success to the concrete achievements and conditions of a person’s life it’s hard to know how to define what it means to be “flourishing”. After all, what does it mean to say that one has “actually flourished” or that any achievement or state can “rightly be described as excellent”. Rightly described by whom? In some ways it feels more consistent and viable to define success by levels of effort and satisfaction rather than achievement.
I don’t see this at all. The examples I gave — some of which, like the archer, derive directly from Massimo’s book — make it very clear what it is to actually succeed in something, rather than merely trying to. To succeed in shooting at a target is to hit the target, not to try and hit it. To succeed in tennis is to win matches, not try and win them. Etc.
You may be more concerned with satisfaction than achievement, and that’s fine, but it is not a Eudaimonist worldview, but rather, a hedonic one, a la J.S. Mill.
Labnut:
I couldn’t agree more, intermixing practices and theories (when coherent) is a sound means for achieving a flourishing life. I don’t know of any better way to achieve a flourishing life. Though, this is why I don’t see how Stoicism leads to the wrong conduct. Because Stoicism encourages you mix different theories and practices in order to achieve a flourishing life…
Daniel Kaufman:
I’d like to make the case against Stoicism seem much much much worse. In order to show that what is often thought to be a problem with Stoicism, is not in fact a problem with Stoicism. I hope this will show why I see Stoicism can be seen as a form of Eudaimonism.
Stoics like to advise us to mentally rehearse the fact our children will die when we kiss them at night. For the same reason, they encourage us to see our closest friends and family as ‘preferred indifferents.’
At first blush this can seem downright goulish, antisocial, or world hating.
Some people think the appropriate way to measure our love for someone else is by the pain we feel when they are absent.
To such a person, this Stoic practice, and especially the Stoic attitude of seeing other people, including your family as ‘preferred indifferents’ is tantamount to refusing to allow love for others. Of course, this misses the fact that Stoics are fine with you having involuntary reactions, like grief, or blushing and so on. The Stoic is merely concerned with how you act when you have the means of choosing to act, and encouraging you to find ways to be less overwhelmed by emotions created by false perceptions. But this takes us away from the point, which is that the Stoic is merely reminding themselves how little is under their control in order to be a better social animal engaging in a flourishing life. Acknowledging Impermanence increases the value of human life.
A Stoic’s child might well die tomorrow or that night. A friend of yours could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Doesn’t matter whether you live in Ancient Greece or the Modern World. And in light of fortune, acting with gratitude and love towards your child, friend, or others, is exactly what follows from reminding yourself that your child (or your friends for that matter) will die and that most things are impermanent.
The Stoics have good advice about friendship and social relationships, precisely because they never let the fact of human mortality and impermanence leave their minds. How differently do you treat a friend when you know they could die at any moment? Very differently, and I dare say, likely with more love and respect than someone who think it ‘unfriendly’ ‘unflourishing’ or a sort of inhumane betrayal to consider that a proper theory of flourishing means we should see that our child or friends mortality is out of our control and therefore something that we ideally learn to see as, therefore, ‘indifferent.’ The Stoic, Seneca in particular, is just very worried that unless we actively remind ourselves of the world’s impermanent nature, that we will actually behave in an unnecessarily goulish, antisocial, or world hating way.
Just because Stoic theory does not require flourishing relationships and external successes does not mean that it is opposed to to them in practice. In practice, they are likely to achieve such things, precisely because they are willing to admit the simple fact of human nature, and human reality, that many things are out of our control, and wishing for something we cannot have is like wishing for ripe fruit off a tree in the dead of winter. The Stoic spends their entire life trying to cultivate better relationships with others. So what if they also admit that they might be unable to achieve the goal, among others, of serving others and themselves well?
This is why I see Stoicism as a form of Eudaimonism. Stoicism may not align with the Aristotle-an belief that a good life requires luck, but I do not think this means we need to say either Stoicisim or Aristotleanism is not a form of Eudaimonism. At least because for me, the actual test of a Eudaimonism (if by Eudaimonism we do not just mean Aristotle) is how well it helps us try to live and practice a life of flourishing relationships. Any theory that creates such conduct (including one like ikigai that Labnut mentioned), is to me, and to the Stoics, secondary in importance so long as it creates such conduct.
Well Daniel, I didn’t quite realize how strongly I felt about this until you forced me to actually spell this out, so I must thank you for that, as well as your continued patience and kind engagement with my thoughts. Thank you for running this blog!
Plutarch: This really isn’t the sort of thing one can prove in any sort of conclusive fashion. All that one can do is to point to various things that one finds persuasive, as you have just done.
The trouble is that I don’t find it persuasive at all. If you were to tell me that someone whose children had all died, young, before they had a chance to grow up, whose business endeavors had failed, and whose marriage had disintegrated had nonetheless flourished, because they were all “preferred indifferents,” I would tell you that yours is a conception of flourishing that I simply cannot identify with in any fashion. My strong inclination is to suggest — as I have in the essay — that it misunderstands what flourishing consists of — what it *means* — but give that you find it compelling, to do so would not likely have much effect.
Yes, I would agree with you on that. I would never mean to impose this view of flourishing on others.
I never once even imagined that. I was speaking more in the opposite direction; i.e. that all I can do is explain what I find unpersuasive about Stoicism *as* a theory of flourishing. There is no way to *demonstrate* that it isn’t one.
It does seem to me, however, to be an effective discipline for consolation, especially in the wake of failure, and that is no small thing.
Besides consoling those who fail, Stoicism is also an effective discipline (as is Epicureanism) for those who never were interested in succeeding in the first place, but were searching for a philosophical explanation of their confused intuitions about what matters in life.
Maybe. I doubt that there are too many people who don’t think that the meaning of their life depends in any way on actual succeeding in their endeavors. I understand that they may *say* that, but I’m not sure I believe it.
It all depends on what you mean by “endeavors”. Obviously, everyone does things and when I change a light bulb, I want the new one to work. When I prepare coffee, I want it to taste like good coffee. However, not everyone strives for success in endeavors as we’ve generally been using the term “endeavor” in this thread: in a career, in a marriage, in society in general.
Some people drop out as they used to say or maybe still do in some quarters because they are just not interested in a successful career or in conventional family life. They may not even believe in any kind of alternative social project as drop-outs did in the 60’s.
For those kind of people (and I know some of them and to a certain extent although not entirely I’m one of them myself), Stoicism and Epicureanism provide useful maps for living.
The problem is that Stoicism alleges this for ordinary endeavors. Hence the archer metaphor.
Plutarch,
“I couldn’t agree more, intermixing practices and theories (when coherent) is a sound means for achieving a flourishing life.”
You seem to have missed my point that a flourishing life is a rich, multidimensional experience and that Stoicism contributes only in one small way. That was also the point of my Ikigai comment.
On my return from Mass I will reply more fully.
Hello Dan
I don’t have a blogging account, so couldn’t thank you in the comments at Blogging Heads TV. I’ll thumbs up your Sophia stuff here. I haven’t listened to all of them, but particularly liked the episodes with Barbara Block on Judaism and Leslie Baynes on C.S. Lewis’ apologetics. Fascinating to hear the rabbi say that if modern scholarship rejected all the historicity of the Bible, she would reject it too. Also liked your refreshing candour in your approach to eating kosher: “I enjoy food too much”. Seems to me this is how a lot of people approach things, though we might be reluctant to spell it out so openly. I’m generally of the view that there are more interesting things to spend my time thinking about than religion, but it can be helpful to find out exactly what religious people believe. On their own terms some of the issues are intriguing: the problem of evil, the Euthyphro dilemma, how does karma actually work? if there is no self, how is the self reborn? Would love to hear you do more on Judaism, or even Hinduism, if you could find a guest. Maybe an episode where you discuss how the mistranslations of the Bible have changed the trajectory of Christianity. Finally, the fast mp3 option is genius!
Thanks again, they probably take some effort to produce, arrange and prepare for, with, judging by the comments, not always glowing appreciation, so I’ll give you mine and hope you do many more.
It is easy to be critical but mine is a qualified criticism. I qualify it because in general because I greatly approve of the work Massimo is doing with Stoicism. So why should I approve if I am critical?
I have followed with great interest the progress in Massimo’s thinking since his early days of activist atheism. Activist atheism jettisons religion, the primary source of ethical priming, but fails to replace it with any ethical alternatives. Massimo, understanding this, moved from aggressive activist atheism and instead searched for ethical alternatives. He first narrowed his search to virtue ethics and then selected Stoicism as a specific form of ethical thought within that school.
He has done a remarkable job of collating and building a body of Stoic knowledge and making it accessible to a modern audience. I really admire that. This is important because an atheist world needs a source of ethical priming. But he has gone further than that and sees a world of ethical ecumenism where the different faith traditions can live side by side in mutual respect. This then seems to be the final and largest step in Massimo’s ethical trajectory. He perceives the world’s problems as fundamentally ethical in nature and addressing these problems requires us to embrace ethical behaviour as our core concern, with virtue ethics being at the heart of that. With this step he also abandons the desire of activist atheism to destroy religions and instead looks for a working accommodation, what I call ethical ecumenism.
So far, so good and I wholly approve. Why then am I critical? My next comment will deal with that. In summary, I will say that I believe that Stoicism, while the best available alternative for an atheist audience, nevertheless has important shortcoming that need to be addressed. Sadly, I see no sign that these shortcoming will be addressed, and so while I remain supportive of Massimo’s work, I am also very critical of of its shortcomings.
Now to explain my criticisms. Stoicism addresses two large concerns: how may I behave ethically and how may I remain functional and effective in a hostile world of adversity and misfortune. It embraces virtue ethics and teaches resilience. Ethical behaviour and resilience are also the major concerns of religion and in this they are in agreement.
But this also marks their point of departure. Read any of the many articles published about Stoicism today and you will quickly note that they are overwhelmingly about resilience, with limited coverage of virtue ethics. In this modern Stoicism mirrors ancient Stoicism. Ethical behaviour is given a passing mention while resilience receives most of the attention.
Now if you are sincere in believing that the world’s problems are essentially ethical in nature, as I do, then the emphasis should be reversed, with ethical behaviour receiving the lion’s share of attention.
Now look a little deeper at these articles and another factor emerges. It becomes apparent that Stoicism is overwhelmingly self directed and shows little concern for the other, despite their talk of cosmopolitanism. Coming from a faith tradition which is inextricably bound up with concern for the other, this is a shocking contrast.
Burrow a little deeper and you will note that love, the primary concern of my faith tradition, receives only a passing mention. If you ask where it is you will be told it is buried somewhere under the heading of the virtue Justice!!
It is all very well talking about ethical behaviour, as Stoicism does, but how do you get people to behave ethically? It turns out this is a very large problem and here Stoicism’s biggest failure becomes apparent. It doesn’t address the problem at all, but says pass, you deal with it.
To be blunt, it is completely and utterly devoid of motivational power. This means it will be forever confined to a tiny circle of wise intellectuals, like Massimo.
Stoicism does not exhibit that palpable sense of joy and celebration I find in my own faith tradition. Nor does it revel in beauty. One is left with a sense of the cold and austere. Add to that the complete absence of any kind of institutional framework with its attendant symbols and rituals, companionship and mutual support, and you will understand its lack of motivational power.
Finally there is the accusation of quietism that is repeatedly levelled at Stoics, who generally deny it. The problem is this – sensible, moderate, level headed behaviour, focused on enduring the world, does not change the world but instead locks in the status quo. This is where my earlier comment about the “glowing spirit” ties in. Real change for the good is rooted in a deep, passionate, unquenchable desire to contribute something worthwhile to the world. It challenges the limits of what can be done, making the impossible become possible.
I need to tie all this in to the general theme of flourishing and my next comment will do this.
The twin pillars of Stoicism, resilience and ethical behaviour, are both important and necessary for a flourishing society. But are they sufficient? Gordon Matthews comments that
(PURSUITS OF HAPPINESS, Well-Being in Anthropological Perspective)
Ikigai is then a means of attaining and maintaining a sense of personal significance in one’s life. Surely this is then the core definition of flourishing at an individual level – to attain and maintain a sense of personal significance. One can safely say that people who attain and maintain a strong sense of personal significance generally contribute largely to society, making it a flourishing society. Note how Matthews emphasises the social and cultural rootedness of ikigai.
Now contrast this against Stoicism, with its overwhelming self-directedness and its generally cold, austere joylessness. Stoic practices are necessary for flourishing but they can never be sufficient outside the small circle of wise intellectuals like Massimo.
I like Massimo’s project too. My disagreements are intellectual and conceptual.
Now it is time to moderate my criticism somewhat. Earlier I wrote that success can be measured by impact and not numbers. The advocacy of the small circle of wise intellectuals who promote Stoicism can have an impact far greater than their numbers suggest. Their ideas will attract attention in influential media, as is already happening, and slowly ethical considerations, based on virtue ethics, will percolate through the general(non-religious) consciousness. As the work of Dan Ariely has shown, repeated ethical priming can have a large effect. Virtue ethics is our most fundamental form of ethical thinking and the work of Seligman has shown that it permeates all societies in roughly the same way, though using different terminology. Virtue ethics can be the unifying ethical force that unites both religions and the non-religious. For this reason I think the work that Massimo is doing with Stoicism is important.
I think it is important because I believe the world’s problems are indeed foundationally ethical in nature. Address this and we create a world that can flourish.
And it’s time for me to sharpen mine a little, perhaps. I think it is a mistake — a serious one — to think that flourishing in any meaningful sense is exhausted by the refinement and development of one’s own character, alone, though that is an important part of it. And while I admire the motivation behind those who pursue this discipline, I don’t think that I admire the result. Indeed, I find the idea of viewing one’s family and friends and their well-being as “preferred indifferents” appalling. (And I said so to Massimo, point blank, in our dialogue.)
Daniel Kaufman:
“I never once even imagined that. I was speaking more in the opposite direction; i.e. that all I can do is explain what I find unpersuasive about Stoicism *as* a theory of flourishing. There is no way to *demonstrate* that it isn’t one.
It does seem to me, however, to be an effective discipline for consolation, especially in the wake of failure, and that is no small thing.”
Ah, sorry Daniel. I thought you were claiming that Stoicism was demonstrably not a theory of Eudaimonism, rather than that it didn’t persuade you. Thanks for taking the time to read my comments and answer my questions. I think you raise good points, though I still find Stoicism persuasive for myself.
Labnut:
In this modern Stoicism mirrors ancient Stoicism. Ethical behaviour is given a passing mention while resilience receives most of the attention.
Now if you are sincere in believing that the world’s problems are essentially ethical in nature, as I do, then the emphasis should be reversed, with ethical behaviour receiving the lion’s share of attention.
Now look a little deeper at these articles and another factor emerges. It becomes apparent that Stoicism is overwhelmingly self directed and shows little concern for the other, despite their talk of cosmopolitanism. Coming from a faith tradition which is inextricably bound up with concern for the other, this is a shocking contrast.
Burrow a little deeper and you will note that love, the primary concern of my faith tradition, receives only a passing mention. If you ask where it is you will be told it is buried somewhere under the heading of the virtue Justice!!
It is all very well talking about ethical behaviour, as Stoicism does, but how do you get people to behave ethically?
What you say is often a problem I also have with modern Stoicism, but this problem is not nearly as present in Ancient Stoicism. The Lion’s share of the attention in ancient Stoicism is on creating good behavior rather than just discussing what a theory of good behavior is.
See Marcus Aurelius reminding himself “To stop talking about what a good man is like, and just be one.” (Bk10.16)
Or Seneca commenting that: “Plato, Aristotle, and a host of other philosophers all destined to take different paths, derived more from Socrates’s character than from his words.” (Letter VI)
Examples could be multiplied to the point of an overly long comment. Suffice to say that while Epictetus (Massimo’s preferred Stoic) spends more time than Marcus and Seneca on Stoic theory (mere resilience as you might put it) Epicetus is even more excoriating in his criticism of those who talk the talk, but don’t walk the walk. Hell, Epictetus’s teacher, Musonius Rufus goes so far as to regularly disparage the study of logic precisely because it often becomes a way of excusing oneself from acting virtuously. Epicetus takes up this theme of Musonius’s too, though with less vitriol.The focus of: Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, Epictetus, and Musonius Rufus, is abundantly the practice of virtuoso behavior, followed secondarily by debating what such behavior looks like. Theory guides practices, but the point is so abundantly on practice that Stoics are more than occasionally willing to denigrate mere theoreticians.
Labnut, I think if you read some of these ancient texts for yourself that you would find them highly enjoyable because they directly address your concerns about creating ethical behavior and love, because they shared them too. Too keep this comment short, I’m just gonna use the words of Pierre Hadot, who btw the way, Massimo heavily relies on:
Stoicism is the origin of the modern notion of ‘human rights.’ I have already cited Seneca’s fine formula on this subject: ‘man is a sacred thing for man. […] [Epictetus argued that even a] slave is a living being like you, and like you, a man gifted with reason. Even if human laws refuse to recognize that he is your equal, the laws of the gods, which are the laws of reason, recognize his absolute value.” (P368)
“loving one’s neighbor as oneself’ is [not] a specifically Christian invention. Rather, it could be maintained that the motivation of Stoic love is the same as that of Christian love. Both recognize the logos or Reason within each person. Even the love of one’s enemies is not lacking in Stoicism […] In the Christian view, the logos is incarnate in Jesus and it is Jesus that the Christian sees in his fellow man.” (P232)
Both these quotes are taken from the The Inner Citadel: The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius by Pierre Hadot.
Hate to tell you this, but with respect to the Golden Rule, the Jews articulated it before the Stoics or the Christians.
Plutarch: I don’t think it is a form of Eudaimonism. But that isn’t something that can be demonstrated given that one can disagree as to what Eudaimonism consists of.
Daniel Kaufman:
My point isn’t about who historically came up with the Golden Rule first, (whether or not Hadot thinks that) so much as it is to show one way in which Stoicism can be understood primarily as about loving others (which is also what I took Hadot’s primary point to be.)
Oh, I know. It’s just that a lot of people don’t.
We will, of course, disagree about what love involves. I don’t believe one can be fully invested in the ones who one loves, if one views them as preferred indifferents. Just as I don’t believe one can be fully invested in any of ones relationships or endeavors with such an attitude.
“I find the idea of viewing one’s family and friends and their well-being as “preferred indifferents” appalling. ”
And so do I. It leaves me aghast. The very term is bizarre. And the principle behind it is plain wrong. So they think you can survive catastrophes by mentally rehearsing them and thereby deadening one’s feelings in anticipation of them happening. Perhaps one can, but at what cost? Lowering one’s affect may deaden the pain of the calamity when it occurs but a life of reduced affect is a deeply impoverished life. A rich life feels deeply joy and pain. A rich life thrills to the ecstasy of joy and also feels the full measure of the bitter, deep grief of loss.
The key to surviving calamity is a good coping strategy that guides one through the hurricane of emotions and not deadened affect. Losing a child is the most awful, calamitous catastrophe that can occur. It is right that the grief should be bitter, deep and overwhelming and we should not shrink from it. With such grief there finally comes understanding and acceptance that leads to rebuilding. Having survived calamitous grief one comes out a better, stronger and more humane person.
Taking the ideological equivalent of Prozac is the coward’s attempt to dodge the bullet.
“ one way in which Stoicism can be understood primarily as about loving others ”
I wish that were true but even a cursory reading of modern Stoic writings shows that love is very much a neglected emotion.
I agree, it is the single most unappealing element of the doctrine. And it represents a very weird view of virtue. For it suggests that at the end of the day, what matters the most is my own inner peace, not the well-being of my friends and family. If one is not in some meaningful sense diminished by the loss of love ones or the failure of ones relationships, one has not fully invested oneself in the manner that I would suggest virtue absolutely requires.
Yeah, I call BS on that too. Frankly, it doesn’t even survive a cursory glance, let alone an in depth look.
That’s why I said that while such an attitude may be appropriate *in extremis* it is completely inappropriate for life in ordinary circumstances.
“Hate to tell you this, but with respect to the Golden Rule, the Jews articulated it before the Stoics or the Christians.”
Yes indeed. Jesus Christ was a Jew after all. His teachings were Jewish teachings given a sharp focus and a particular emphasis.
“If one is not in some meaningful sense diminished by the loss of love ones or the failure of ones relationships, one has not fully invested oneself in the manner that I would suggest virtue absolutely requires.”
That is very insightful.
It predates Jesus, in Judaism.
“It predates Jesus, in Judaism.”
Yes, that was what I was trying to say.
Yes, of course. I failed to read the latter part of your comment.
Labnut:
I agree that modern Stoicism is presented, on occasion, like ‘taking the ideological equivalent of Prozac” or a “cowards attempt to dodge the bullet.” Love is also often absent in this Stoicism. Ryan Holiday’s Stoicism (Obstacle is the Way) is a good example of this. His Stoicism, is all too often, (but not always) an unfeeling tool in the service of private profit. There is very little social about such a Stoicism, in fact, there’s something distinctly zero sum and aggressive about it.
Now, this is probably my fault for formatting my last comment as poorly as I did.
But I think you missed when I said that your criticisms of some forms of modern Stoicism is sound (eg Holiday), but that it is not true of most ancient Stoicism.
Yes, most modern Stoicism is sold as some sort of ‘trick’ or ‘mental headgame’ which let’s you cultivate ‘resilience’ or ‘grit’ with merely a ‘mindset shift’ which is in the end, naked egoism. Such a version of Stoicism is popular precisely because it requires no sacrifice for oneself or others, and is the ‘ideologcal equivalent of Prozac.’ Though quite frankly, I’m not certain that taking Prozac is morally reprehensible, or necessarily lazy or egoist, so I will dispense with the Prozac metaphor from here on out.
Holiday’s Stoicism and other forms like it, is simply not ancient Stoicism. Love and pro social behavior is the basis of ancient Stoicism. This Stoicism required habitual action in the service of others in addition to the cultivation of equanimity. The cultivation of equanimity was not more important than the action of serving others, they were designed as mutually supportive practices. To divorce one from the other, is ‘the cowards attempt to dodge the bullet,’ but it is not the Ancient Stoics way, as we know from numerous historical examples of Stoics sacrificing their time, resources, and themselves for the sake of communal needs or ideals.
I apologize if I’ve offended you, that was not my intent. I just think that ancient Stoicism is actually quite amenable to your criticisms. From what I’ve gathered you seem very interested in a virtue ethics that is based around engaging with others in a social community. From what I understand, ancient (but not some forms of modern) Stoicism is mostly designed to do just this.
“Hate to tell you this, but with respect to the Golden Rule, the Jews articulated it before the Stoics or the Christians”
None of this is surprising from a Christian point of view since we see it as a continuous series of teachings emanating from God and progressively unfolding according to his plan. As an atheist you will, on the other hand, see Christian thought as an outgrowth of Jewish thought. As it turns out, we think the same, but for different reasons.
“I apologize if I’ve offended you, that was not my intent.”
No, not at all. This has been a fascinating and invigorating discussion. I look forward to more like this. You have embraced a value framework and defend it ardently and thoughtfully. I like that. If you will pardon a parting jab, the enthusiasm of your defence was hardly stoical 🙂
You should not apologize for anything you have said. You are a model commentator, and I really hope you will keep participating in discussions here on future articles. We very much value readers like you.
As someone who lost a son, at age 15, 16 years ago, I find the Stoic idea that the loss of a child is a not-preferred indifferent as offensive. At the time of his death lots of people approached me with consoling bullshit about my son being an angel in heaven now or about him being reborn into a higher life form and I politely told them to fuck off. That’s a posture I still maintain.
Good grief, I cannot even imagine what you have gone through.
Did you mean “a preferred indifferent”?
After Pablo’s death, I saw a psychologist and she told me that the loss of a child is the only form of grief that people never can process and get over. Given that, she said that there was nothing she could do for me as a psychologist. I think that that’s true. Grief is something you have to live with. It comes in waves.
The Stoics see the loss of a child as a non-preferred indifferent, as far as I know. Good things such a health or friendship are preferred indifferents for them, while bad things, the loss of a loved one, illness, etc, are non-preferred indifferents.
“As someone who lost a son, at age 15”
You have my deepest sympathy for your unimaginable loss. There is no greater pain.
Labnut,
Thank you.