Keep in mind that you are an actor in a play that is just the way the producer wants it to be. It is short, if that is his wish, or long, if he wants it long. If he wants you to act the part of a beggar, see that you play it skillfully; and similarly if the part is to be a cripple, or an official, or a private person. Your job is to put on a splendid performance of the role you have been given, but selecting the role is the job of someone else. (Ench 17)
This chapter runs counter to most modern western thinking. I’m an actor in a play, with an assigned role? No way! “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”[1] Of course, we are the masters of our fate and captains of our souls; however, not in the way most people typically interpret those famous lines from Invictus.
We want to believe we control the externals that determine our fate. We want to believe:
- If we obtain adequate education and embark on a promising career, we will experience financial prosperity.
- If we invest properly, we can ensure our financial security for retirement.
- If we pick the right mate, we will be romantically fulfilled and happy.
- If we have a nutritious diet, exercise, and get adequate rest, we will be healthy.
- Etc, etc.
Most people hold onto idealistic beliefs like these into their early adult life. However, as time passes, life happens. Events occur that make it quite clear we are not in complete control of our destiny.
- Technology replaces the knowledge and skills we acquired in college and developed during a career.
- Stock markets and housing markets crash.
- Deadly pandemics sweep the world.
- Car crashes, street violence, war, and disease unexpectedly take loved ones away from us.
- Spouses leave us for others or fall short of our expectations.
- Etc, etc.
With age, we learn we are not in complete control of the events in our life. Sadly, those hard lessons can make us bitter and pessimistic about life, and we end up frustrated, pained, and troubled, and we find fault with gods and men (Encheiridion 1).
So, what is the answer? Are we supposed to stop trying to make our lives and the world better? No! Absolutely not! As I have said before, Stoicism does not teach quietism. However, Encheiridion 17 does teach us to accept that we are not in complete control of events that shape our lives. We choose how well we play our part; however, we do not get to pick the role. Numerous externals constrain us, and our failure to understand and accept that truth leads to psychological distress.
The popular idea that we can be anything we want to be, limited only by our will and effort to achieve our dreams, is a fantasy. It is a lie perpetuated by people who want life to be fair from the human perspective. However, life is not fair in that sense. Human talents are not distributed equally at birth. The socio-economic and political environments people are born into, differ significantly between nations, cities, communities, and families. Whether our role is that of a beggar, cripple, official, or private person is primarily determined by many factors outside our control.
External factors limit us to a far greater degree than we want to admit. Therefore, if we measure the value of our existence by externals, life will never be fair. Genius is frequently overlooked, and ignorance is often exalted. Morally corrupt individuals make it into high office, and those with good character frequently struggle to get elected to a school board. Cheaters regularly win. Lawbreakers repeatedly get away with their crimes. Hard workers sometimes end up destitute, and lazy people win the lottery occasionally.
That is why Stoicism teaches us another way to evaluate our existence. From the perspective of Stoicism, life is fair and perfectly egalitarian. Those born into poverty have an equal opportunity to develop an excellent character and experience well-being as those born into wealth. Likewise, physical infirmities are not moral disabilities.
Your circumstances do not dictate your character; your choices do.
Were you born into poverty? Choose to put on a splendid performance. Your circumstance may or may not change, but your character will improve.
Do you have a physical infirmity that limits you? Choose to put on a splendid performance. Your circumstance may or may not change, but your character will improve.
Are you in an official position that grants you power over people? Choose to put on a splendid performance. Your circumstance may or may not change, but your character will improve.
Are you a middle-class citizen with a job, house, spouse, and children? Choose to put on a splendid performance. Your circumstance may or may not change, but your character will improve.
A good character shines through no matter the role we are assigned to play. Our life circumstances determine our part, but they do not determine our character. We cannot predict if or when our circumstances will change; however, we can experience well-being in any role if we develop our moral character.
Epictetus used this play metaphor in another Discourse where he makes the important distinction between the person or self and the role they are playing.
The time will soon be coming when the actors think that their masks, and high boots, and robes are their very selves. Man, you have all of that only as your subject matter, your task. Speak out so that we may know whether you’re a tragic actor or a buffoon; for in other respects, both are just alike. Thus, if one deprives a tragic actor of his high boots and mask, and brings him on the stage like a ghost, has the actor disappeared or does he remain? If he has his voice, he remains. So also in life. ‘Take a governorship.’ I take it, and in doing so, show how a properly educated man conducts himself. ‘Take off your senatorial robe, dress in rags, and step forward in that role.’ What, then, hasn’t it been granted to me to display a fine voice? ‘In what role, then, are you coming on the stage now?’ As a witness summoned by God… (Discourses 1.2.41-47)
A.A. Long offers the following in his commentary on this passage:
Epictetus buys into the concept of performance, but he inverts its ideological conventions by proposing that every role persons find themselves occupying is equally apt as the setting for them to distinguish themselves. Thus, in the second excerpt above, the stage costume corresponds to external contingencies and the voice to the authentic self. The point is then: what reveals persons is not their appearance and the station in life they happen to occupy (their dramatic plot, as it were) but entirely how they perform and speak in these roles.[2]
An excellent character is achievable regardless of our circumstances. That is the power of Stoicism. The circumstances of Epictetus, a slave, and Marcus Aurelius, a Roman Emperor, could hardly have been any more different. Neither deserved the role they were assigned, and we could question the fairness of a society that allowed for either role.
Nevertheless, both had equal access to an excellent character and well-being. Likewise, both put on a splendid performance in the role the cosmos assigned to them. We hold both up as exemplars today because they played their parts splendidly.
What is your part in the play of your life? Are you dissatisfied with your role? Would you rather have the lead role instead of being the supporting cast? Encheiridion 17 teaches us that it is not our choice. Our choice is to play the part we are presently in splendidly. The role may change in time; it may not. That is not up to us. Recall the words of Marcus:
But perhaps you are discontented with what is allotted to you from the whole? Then call to mind the alternative, ‘either providence or atoms’ and all the proofs that the universe should be regarded as a kind of constitutional state. Or is it perhaps that bodily things still have a hold on you? Reflect that the mind, as soon as it draws in on itself and comes to know its own power, no longer associates itself with the motions, be they rough or smooth, of the breath; and think too of all that you have heard, and have assented to, with regard to pleasure and pain. Or is it a petty desire for fame that draws you from your path? Consider, then, how swiftly all things fall prey to oblivion, and the abyss of boundless time that stretches in front of you and behind you, and the hollowness of renown, and the fickleness and fatuousness of those who make a show of praising you, and the narrowness of the confines in which this comes to pass; for the earth in its entirety is merely a point in space, and how very small is this corner of it in which we have our dwelling; and even here how few there will be, and of what a nature, to sing your praises. (Meditations 4.3)
Again, Stoicism is not quietism. Stoic prokoptons are not to sit idly by as injustice prevails. Our role may be to combat injustice. However, every effort we make to change the external circumstances of our life or the lives of others must be undertaken with a reserve clause in mind. We can only control our choice to act; we do not control the outcome. The appropriate action for Stoics is to play our role splendidly and then wish for things to happen as they actually do (Encheiridion 8).
In another powerful passage, Epictetus provides us a glimpse of the calm mind and strength of character that comes from accepting all events as they happen and living the role the cosmos assigns us.
When someone has come to understand these things, what is to prevent him from living with a light heart and easy mind, calmly awaiting whatever may happen, and putting up with what has already happened. Is it your wish that I should be poor? Bring it on, then, and you’ll see what poverty is when it finds a good actor to play the part. Is it your wish that I should hold office? Bring it on. Is it your wish that I should be deprived of office? Bring it on. Is it your wish that I should suffer hardships? Bring those on too. What, and exile? Wherever I go, all will be well with me, since that was also the case here, not because of the place but because of my judgements, and those that I’ll carry away with me; for no one can take them away from me; they’re the only things that are truly my own, and it is enough for me that I should possess them, wherever I am and whatever I’m doing. (Discourses 4.7.12-14)
I will close with a famous poem by Walt Whitman that I believe expresses the transformation from a non-Stoic mindset, tormented by meaninglessness and pathological human sentiments, to a powerful proclamation of life’s purpose and the part we each play.
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.[3]
ENDNOTES:
[1] Henley, W. (1875) Invictus
[2] Long, A. A. (2002). Epictetus: A Stoic and Socratic Guide to Life. Oxford University Press. p. 243
[3] Whitman, W. (1892) Leaves of Grass
