In Meditations 3.16, Marcus Aurelius notes three different capacities of the human psyche and the corresponding character traits of bad people who are controlled or guided by them. He writes:
To receive impressions by means of images is something that we share even with cattle; and to be drawn this way and that by the puppet-strings of impulse, we share with wild beasts, with catamites, and with a Phalaris or a Nero; and to have the intellect as a guide towards what appear to be duties is something that we share with those who do not believe in the gods, with those who betray their country, with those who will do anything whatever behind locked doors.
This passage is fascinating. The first two capacities relied on by those with a bad character will get near-universal nods of agreement from Stoic practitioners. However, the third—those who use their intellect as a guide—may raise eyebrows and will need explaining. Let’s look at each of these in detail.
Those Who Are Operating on Sense Impressions (Phantasia) Alone
Marcus begins by comparing those who rely only on sense impressions to cattle. If we seek a human parallel, slaves and prisoners come to mind. Like cattle, others control the movements of slaves and prisoners. Likewise, they must eat what is put in front of them lest they starve. A sense impression of food is presented to them and they respond by eating it. A sense impression of downtime is presented to them, so they rest or sleep. Others make all of their significant choices for them; there is no need to make judgments, so they are simply responding to sense impressions. It is possible to imagine a human who is not a literal slave or prisoner but lives in an environment where they are cared for by others and every significant choice is made for them. This would be unlikely in modern times. However, we can imagine a prince or princess of a powerful king living in such circumstances in the past. No matter what we imagine, I think we will agree these circumstances are dehumanizing—this is not the life of a human being; it is the life of cattle.
For us, the important lesson here is how we handle sense impressions, and that skill falls under the practice known as the Discipline of Assent. As I noted in a previous episode, we need to set up a Stoic roadblock for impressions. This allows us to Stop every impression, Strip it bare, and See it from the cosmic viewpoint. If we wrongly assent to the almost involuntary value judgments that typically accompany sense impressions—that is “good” or that is “bad”—we develop or further ingrain the desires and aversions that disturb us. That brings us to the next capacity on Marcus’ list.
Those Who Are Driven by Impulses (Horme)
Marcus likens those who are driven by the impulses that arise from desires and aversions to “wild beasts.” Clearly, wild beasts differ from the cattle that rely on sense perceptions. Animals in the wild are not fed and cared for by others. Instead, they must hunt or forage to eat, and they are free to move about, sleep where they want, and procreate as they desire. These wild beasts are driven by impulses that arise from innate desires (longings) and aversions (fears)—we typically call these instincts. Wild animals do not question their desires and aversions; they do not consider whether their actions are good or bad. If they are social animals, they may tend toward certain behaviors and avoid others because there are rewards or repercussions from others in their group. However, that is not rational behavior; it is conditioning.
Marcus argues that people who exhibit this characteristic are “drawn this way and that by the puppet-strings of impulse.” He uses this puppet analogy several times in his Meditations. He admonishes himself not to be “tugged this way and that, like a puppet, by each unsociable impulse” (Meditations 2.2), and cautions against being “pulled around like puppets by our impulses” (Meditations 6.16). Additionally, he finds some consolation in death because he will be free from “the impulses that pull us around like a puppet” (Meditations 6.28). When we are honest with ourselves, as Marcus was, we recognize the power of desires and aversions to control us like puppets. They do pull us around. When we are presented with the impression of something we desire as a “good” or wish to avoid because we consider it “bad,” our impulse to move toward or away from that thing or event can be psychologically overwhelming.
That is why Epictetus repeatedly emphasizes the importance of eliminating our desires and aversions. This is the practice known as the Discipline of Desire. He even teaches us that the only thing powerful enough to overpower a desire or aversion is another desire or aversion (Discourses 1.17.24). In other words, our desire for an excellent character must become strong enough to overpower our desire for good health, wealth, power, and reputation and our fear of the opposite externals. Otherwise, we will continue to have a troubled mind and we will find reasons to blame others and the cosmos (Enchiridion 1). Left unchecked, our desires will turn us into immoral humans. Worse yet, if we are placed in a position of power, those desires and aversions can turn us into tyrants like Phalaris or Nero. Therefore, if we succumb to desires and aversions, we will turn into the human equivalent of wild beasts. Epictetus teaches us, “It is thus shameful for a human being to begin and end where the irrational animals do” (Discourses 1.6.20). He scorns those who choose to live as irrational animals. He declares, you “should lie down and go to sleep, and lead the worm’s life that you’ve judged yourself to be worthy of; eat and drink, and copulate, and defecate, and snore!” (Discourses 2.20.10).
Those Who Are Guided by Their Intellect (Nous)
At this point, one might assume that using our divinely given human rationality will inevitably lead us away from those characteristics shared by cattle and wild beasts and toward an excellent character (virtue). Unfortunately, that assumption is incorrect. Human history makes it quite clear that we are capable of using our reason to achieve evil ends. In fact, as Cleanthes highlights in his Hymn to Zeus, the only evil in the world is that which wicked men do. It is common for us moderns to observe and consider the evil deeds of other humans and conclude they must be crazy—irrational. However, the Stoics did not consider evil acts to be the result of irrationality. Instead, evil is the misuse of rationality.
The Stoics did not divide the human psyche into rational and irrational parts as Plato did. Instead, they argued for a unified human psyche that is thoroughly rational even when it is morally corrupt and vicious. The Stoics would argue that Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, and Charles Manson relied on their human rationality to carry out their morally vicious actions. Consequently, we moderns make a serious mistake when we equate rationality with virtue because human reason can be used for both good and bad ends. That is why the Stoics argue that human reason must be brought into agreement with (όμολογουμένως) the nature of the whole universe (DL 7.87).
Stoicism teaches us the current state of our character is the product of all of our previous assents to impressions and our currently held desires and aversions. Therefore, our response to any present impression of a thing or event will be the product of our present character. There is no magic in Stoic psychology; if we wish to behave differently in the future, we must change our character. To change our character, we must correct our errant judgments and eliminate our desires for and aversions to externals that are not “up to us.” An excellent character (virtue) will produce appropriate responses to things and events, while a bad character (vice) will produce the opposite. Chrysippus likened our individual character to the shape and composition of a cylinder. He argued:
Just as the person who pushed the cylinder gave it its beginning of motion but not its capacity for rolling, likewise, although the impression encountered will print and, as it were, emblazon its appearance on the mind, assent will be in our power. And assent, just as we said in the case of the cylinder, although prompted from outside, will thereafter move through its own force and nature. (Cicero, On Fate, 43)
To help us understand this cylinder metaphor and its application to human character, I think it is helpful to imagine two different cylinders. First, imagine a cylinder that is perfectly round, balanced, and composed of uniformly smooth, durable, and weighty metal. Label this cylinder “virtue.” Now imagine a second cylinder that is slightly out of round, imbalanced, and composed of a soft, porous wood like North American pine that is full of knots. Label this one “vice.” If we place both cylinders on the same smooth, slightly inclined surface and give them both a nudge of equivalent force, they will not roll in the same manner. Why? Because their nature is quite different. Likewise, two human characters, one virtuous and the other vicious, when acted upon by the same impression of an external thing or event, will respond differently.
How can evil acts be considered rational? Because their rational faculty was corrupted. It is not that their rational faculty is broken; it is misguided. Their rational faculty is guided by wrong judgments about what is “good” and “bad” and driven by desires for externals beyond their control. Using the language of Marcus, each used their “intellect as a guide” to achieve what appeared “good” and “right” to them. As the old saying notes, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Even though we all share a portion of the same divine mind, that fragment of the divine we each possess can become corrupted.
This raises a critically important point for our Stoic practice; it is not enough to rely on human rationality. As Stoics, we must align our human reason with the universal Reason that permeates the cosmos if we hope to develop an excellent character. As Pierre Hadot notes,
What defined a Stoic above all else was the choice of a life in which every thought, every desire, and every action would be guided by no other law than that of universal Reason.[1]
There is an essential connection between human nature and universal Nature in Stoic practice. As A.A. Long, a renowned Stoic Scholar, acknowledges, this connection between cosmic Nature and ethical norms naturally makes us moderns uncomfortable. That is understandable since we were raised in a secular age. Nevertheless, he points out the fact that the Stoics “looked to cosmic order” for “models of rationality” that could guide the “correctness and consistency of our own reasoning.” He notes that our “human function is to try to replicate such order in ourselves” and argues the “feasibility of this project” is only possible because we possess “the divine spirit of rationality delegated to our minds.” Finally, Long warns that if we ignore this connection with the cosmic order, we will “misrepresent” one of the “most basic features” of ancient virtue ethics and thereby “fail to understand why ancient philosophers were so absolute in their claims about the power of reason to guide human life and to deliver prosperity.”[2] That is the reason Chrysippus, the third scholarch of the Stoa, argued:
For there is no other or more suitable way of approaching the theory of good and evil or the virtues or happiness than from the universal nature and from the dispensation of the universe… For the theory of good and evil must be connected with these, since good and evil have no better beginning or point of reference and physical speculation is to be undertaken for no other purpose than for the discrimination of good and evil.”[3]
So, what characteristics should we expect to see in the good person who is not operating on sense impressions alone; who is not driven by impulses toward their desires and away from their aversions; and who looks to cosmic order and universal Reason to guide their divine capacity for rationality? Well, you will have to wait for the next episode to find out.
ENDNOTES:
[1] Pierre Hadot, The Inner Citadel: the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998), p. 308
[2] A. A. Long, “Eudaimonism, Divinity, and Rationality in Greek Ethics,” Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy 19, no. 1 (2004): 123–43, pp. 141-42
[3] Plutarch, Stoic Self-Contradictions, 1035C-D, tr. Cherniss
