Today’s podcast is an introduction to the concept of Stoic spiritual exercises. Over the next few episodes, I will be covering three Stoic spiritual exercises: the discipline of assent, the discipline of desire, and the discipline of action. These three exercises or disciplines are the core of what I call the path of the prokopton. In episode 5, I covered the concepts of attention (prosoche). In episode 6, I covered what is and is not “up to us,” which is commonly called the dichotomy of control. As I noted in that episode, Pierre Hadot refers to these as the fundamental Stoic spiritual attitude and the fundamental rule of life respectively. Together, they constitute what Hadot calls the Stoic moral attitude, which is the attitude a prokopton takes toward all the events that occur in life. The Stoic spiritual exercises are the practices that develop that moral attitude and lead us farther along the Stoic path toward an excellent character and well-being.
Those who are familiar with the writing of the French philosopher Pierre Hadot will recognize the concept of spiritual exercises. It is a constant theme in his books. He did not invent it; however, he applied the term to ancient philosophical practices and thereby illuminated the meaning and significance of these exercises. Before Hadot, the idea of philosophy as a way of life had largely been lost. Modern academic philosophy deviated so far from the concept of philosophy as a way of life that a 2016 critique was able to highlight the “pathologies” of contemporary academic philosophy and point out its complete abandonment of the philosophical practices of Socrates. The authors of that critique write:
Universally venerated by contemporary philosophers, the actual philosophic practice of Socrates is rejected or ignored. Socrates could never get a position today in a philosophy (or any other) department.[1]
This divergence from the philosophical practices of Socrates is important to twenty-first-century practitioners of Stoicism for two reasons. First, Socrates in the grandfather of Stoicism, and his way of life served as a model for the Stoics. As I noted in episode 4, Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, was inspired to follow the philosophical way of life after reading about the life of Socrates in Xenophon’s Memorabilia. That portrait of Socrates inspired Zeno to ask, “Where can I find men such as these? ”Second, because the path of the Stoic prokopton is a spiritual practice—it relies on the transformational power of these spiritual exercises that are largely, if not wholly, ignored by modern academic philosophers. Even where Stoicism is taught in academic environments, it is unlikely that any attention will be paid to these practices. Modern academia has little if any tolerance for anything considered spiritual. That is why it was necessary for Pierre Hadot to reintroduce the modern world to the spiritual nature of the ancient philosophical way of life. Philosophy as a way of life is so radically different from the mind-numbing, logic-chopping positivism that turns many people away from philosophy, we can argue it belongs in a different category. As Michael Chase wrote in the introduction of a published set of essays honoring Hadot:
Hadot’s work, written in a plain, clear style that lacks the rhetorical flourishes of a Derrida or a Foucault, represents a call for a radical democratization of philosophy. It talks about subjects that matter to people today from all walks of life, which is why it has appealed, arguably, less to professional philosophers than to ordinary working people, and to professionals working in disciplines other than philosophy.[2]
If you doubt the difference between Hadot’s approach to the ancient Stoics and that of modern academia, here is an experiment. Read and compare two books, both published in English in 1998 and both dealing with the application of Stoicism in the life of practitioners. The first book, written from the perspective of modern academia, is Lawrence Becker’s A New Stoicism. The second book is Pierre Hadot’s The Inner Citadel. The contrast between these views of Stoicism highlight the problem with modern academic philosophers attempting to apply Stoicism to daily life. Becker abandons the worldview of the Stoics because from his academic perspective, “a credible work of ethics” cannot include the Stoic teleological (providential) worldview.[3]In contrast, Hadot writes,
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. Whether the world is ordered or chaotic, it depends only on us to be rationally coherent with ourselves. In fact, all the dogmas of Stoicism derive from this existential choice. It is impossible that the universe could produce human rationality, unless the latter were already in some way present within the former.[4]
The idea that universal Reason exists and provides us with human rationality and the laws that serve as a guide for our ethics is anathema to a modern academic like Becker. Therefore, instead of approaching Stoicism and its practice as the ancients intended, he demands that Stoicism conforms to the worldview that holds sway over modern academic philosophy and makes it irrelevant to most moderns. The philosophical way of life is not primarily aimed at knowing, although that is certainly an essential aspect of it. Instead, the philosophical way of life is aimed at a mode of being; its goal is the transformation of the Self into the best possible human beings we are capable of becoming. The Greeks called this state of human excellence arete. We translate that word as virtue in English; however, virtue does not fully express the concept of arete, which encompasses the whole human being rather than just ethical behavior.
Hadot not only reintroduced the modern world to philosophy as a way of life, he also revived the practice of spiritual exercises, which predate the Christian conception of those practices attributed to Ignatius of Loyola. Interestingly, Hadot argues the spiritual exercises of Ignatius are “a Christian version of a Greco-Roman tradition”[5] that emphasized askesis(philosophical practice or exercise). So, what does Hadot mean by the term spiritual exercise? Why did he choose to call them spiritual exercises instead of philosophical exercises or something else? In defense of his use of the adjective “spiritual,” Hadot writes,
The expression is a bit disconcerting for the contemporary reader. In the first place, it is no longer quite fashionable these days to use the word “spiritual.” It is nevertheless necessary to use this term, I believe, because none of the other adjectives we could use –”psychic,” “moral,” “ethical,” “intellectual,” “of thought,” “of the soul”–covers all the aspects of reality we want to describe.[6]
In the passage that follows the one above, Hadot addresses three reasonable alternatives that might come to mind and explains why they are inadequate to fully describe the scope of these exercises.
Thought Exercises
Hadot argues, ‘the word “thought” “does not indicate clearly enough that imagination and sensibility play a very important role in these exercises.’
Intellectual Exercises
He claims ‘we cannot be satisfied with “intellectual exercises,” although such intellectual factors as definition, division, ratiocination, reading, investigation, and rhetorical amplification play a large role in them.’
Ethical Exercises
Hadot concedes that ‘“ethical exercises”is a rather tempting expression, since, as we shall see, the exercises in question contribute in a powerful way to the therapeutics of the passions, and have to do with the conduct of life. Yet, here again, this would be too limited a view of things.
All of these are inadequate because these exercises “correspond to a transformation of our vision of the world, and to a metamorphosis of our personality.” They address more than the practitioner’s mere thoughts, they entail “the individual’s entire psychism.” Therefore, according to Hadot, the word “spiritual” “reveals the true dimensions of these exercises” because by means of them, “the individual raises himself up to the life of the objective Spirit; that is to say, he re-places himself within the perspective of the Whole (“Become eternal by transcending yourself”).”[emphasis added][7]
Our Place Within the Whole
This concept of replacing our own personal perspective with that of the Whole is a primary goal of Stoic practice. This theme if repeated frequently within the pages of Marcus Aurelius’Meditations.
Providence permeates the works of the gods; and the works of fortune are not dissociated from nature, but intertwined and interwoven by all that is ordered by providence. Everything flows from there; but necessity is implicated too, and the benefit of the whole universe of which you are a part. Now for every part of nature, the good is that which universal nature brings, and which serves to sustain that nature; and the universe is sustained not merely by the changes of the elements, but also by the changes of the bodies compounded from them. Let these doctrines, if that is what they are, be enough for you. As for your thirst for books, be done with it, so that you may not die with complaints on your lips, but with a truly cheerful mind and grateful to the gods with all your heart. (Meditations 2.3)
Everything suits me that suits your designs, O my universe. Nothing is too early or too late for me that is in your own good time. All is fruit for me that your seasons bring, O nature. All proceeds from you, all subsists in you, and to you all things return. (Meditations 4.23)
All things are interwoven, and the bond that unites them is sacred, and hardly anything is alien to any other thing, for they have been ranged together and are jointly ordered to form a common universe. For there is one universe made up of all that is, and one god who pervades all things, and one substance and one law, and one reason common to all intelligent creatures, and one truth, if indeed there is one perfection for all creatures who are of the same stock and partake of the same reason. (Meditations 7.9)
‘The earth loves showers, and the holy ether loves [to fall in showers].’And the universe loves to create whatever is to be; so I will say to the universe, ‘Your love is my love too.’Is that not also implied in the expression, ‘This loves to come about’? (Meditations 10.21)
Christopher Gill, in his commentary on Meditations10.21, points out that Marcus is quoting a fragment from Euripides, which he interprets “in the light of the Stoic idea of the universe (or its immanent divinity) as a positive and creative force…to which we should respond by exercising our own rationality.”[8]
The point of these spiritual exercises is to bring our thoughts, desires, and actions into agreement with the way things happen in nature. To live in agreement with nature, as the Stoics proposed, means to accept and even love all the events of nature because they are brought about by a rational will that guides the cosmos toward an end that is good for the Whole. As Hadot points out,
For the Stoics, the ideas of Providence and Destiny, together with the concepts of the complete interpenetration of all the parts of the world, and of the loving accord between the Whole and all its parts, were enough to justify that attitude of loving acceptance in the face of all that comes from Nature which constitutes the discipline of desire.[9]
Ultimately, this is a choice. Pierre Hadot calls it an existential choice and argues it is the “fundamental choice” of the Stoics to see the world as providentially ordered. Certainly, there are alternative choices. Many moderns choose, consciously or unconsciously, to see the universe as a random process that fortuitously, yet accidentally, created our universe and all the marvels within it, including our human rationality and consciousness. I grant that reasonable, rational people can look at the facts and infer that conclusion. However, I do not grant them ownership of the intellectual high ground from which they can condescendingly mock, disparage, ridicule, or simply write off as unworthy participants in dialog those who look at the same facts and come to a different conclusion. The ancient Stoics considered the facts of nature and concluded there must be some inherent reason and order within the cosmos. To them, it was unreasonable to believe all the marvels of life, including human reason (what we call human consciousness), were the result of mere chance. They believed the cosmos was a rational organism, with inherent meaning and an ultimate goal that can guide us toward a life of human moral excellence and well-being regardless of the circumstances we face. They believed we are capable of standing in the midst of life’s inevitable storms—sickness, war, death, loss of loved ones, imprisonment, torture, etc.—and accept that these events of nature have a higher purpose. They accepted that this is what nature must do to bring about the good end it seeks. Nevertheless, the Stoics did not simply accept the necessity of fate. They reached beyond “bear and forbear.”They stretched their arms wide, faced the heavens, and willingly chose to love all that the cosmos brought about. Like Marcus, they said:
Everything suits me that suits your designs, O my universe. Nothing is too early or too late for me that is in your own good time. All is fruit for me that your seasons bring, O nature. All proceeds from you, all subsists in you, and to you all things return. (Meditations 4.23)
This is the same choice and resulting attitude that can be traced to Socrates, the grandfather of Stoicism, who stood before the men of Athens who had condemned him to death on false charges and said:
You too must be of good hope as regards death, gentlemen of the jury,and keep this one truth in mind, that a good man cannot be harmed either in life or in death, and that his affairs are not neglected by the gods. What has happened to me now has not happened of itself, but it is clear to me that it was better for me to die now and to escape from trouble. (Plato, Apology 41 C-D)
Referring to this passage, Hadot points out:
The good person believes that the only evil is moral evil and that there is no good but moral good—namely, what we call duty or virtue. This is the supreme value, for which we must not hesitate to face death. The Stoic choice is thus situated in the direct line of the Socratic choice, and is diametrically opposed to the Epicurean choice: happiness consists not in pleasure or in individual interest but in the demands of the good, which are dictated by reason and transcend the individual.[10]
That is where the spiritual exercises lead us—to the transformation of our Self. The goal of these exercises is threefold. First, they teach us to use reason to see the things in nature from a different perspective—the perspective of the Whole, which transcends our individual interests. Second, from this perspective, we learn to relinquish the desires and aversions that cause us so much psychological anguish. Third, these spiritual exercises teach us how to act appropriately toward the divine cosmos and our fellow humans. These spiritual exercises are the core practices of the Stoic philosophical way of life. As Michael Chase, the translator of Pierre Hadot’s classic The Inner Citadel, notes, through his study of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, Pierre Hadot began to “accord more and more importance to the idea of spiritual exercises” as:
[P]hilosophical practices intended to transform the practitioner’s way of looking at the world and consequently his or her way of being. Following Paul Rabbow, Hadot held that the famous Exercitia Spiritualia of Ignatius of Loyola, far from being exclusively Christian, were the direct heirs of pagan Greco-Roman practices. These exercises, involving not just the intellect or reason, but all of a human being’s faculties, including emotion and imagination, had the same goal as all ancient philosophy: reducing human suffering and increasing happiness, by teaching people to detach themselves from their particular, egocentric, individualistic viewpoints and become aware of their belonging, as integral component parts, to the Whole constituted by the entire cosmos. In its fully developed form, exemplified in such late Stoics as Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, this change from our particularistic perspective to the universal perspective of reason had three main aspects. First, by means of the discipline of thought, we are to strive for objectivity; since, as the Stoics believe, what causes human suffering is not so much things in the world, but our beliefs about those things, we are to try to perceive the world as it is in itself, without the subjective coloring we automatically tend to ascribe to everything we experience (“That’s lovely,”“that’s horrible,”“that’s ugly,”“that’s terrifying,”etc.). Second, in the discipline of desire, we are to attune our individual desires with the way the universe works, not merely accepting that things happen as they do, but actively willing for things to happen precisely the way they do happen. This attitude is, of course, the ancestor of Nietzsche’s “Yes”granted to the cosmos, a “yes”that immediately justifies the world’s existence. 3 Finally, in the discipline of action, we are to try to ensure that all our actions are directed not just to our own immediate, short-term advantage, but to the interests of the human community as a whole.[11]
To that end, I strongly encourage my listeners to acquire and read the writings of Pierre Hadot. He tapped into the root of ancient philosophy to reintroduce us moderns to philosophy as a way of life. Academic philosophy abandoned this concept long ago and turned philosophy into ethical dilemmas, puzzles, games of logic, and a positivist form of “rational” discourse the ancient Stoics surely would consider little more than intellectual masturbation. Enlightenment philosophers initiated the process by banishing the soul of philosophy to the wastebasket of religion. They threw the natural religious impulse of humankind out with the bathwater of religion. Most of modern academic philosophy, following in that tradition, has made philosophy largely irrelevant for the average person as an aid to human transformation and well-being. The writings of Pierre Hadot return us to the original intent of ancient philosophy as a means to transform us toward the goal of human excellence. Therefore, within the show notes, I provide a list of books that will be useful as we proceed with the Stoic spiritual exercises in the coming episodes. I encourage you to read Hadot alongside the Stoic texts to reinforce these lessons. By doing so, you will most assuredly set your practice of Stoicism on fire.
Further Study
The books listed below provide insight into the spiritual exercises of the Stoics. They are listed in the order I recommend acquiring and reading them rather than by author and date.
Pierre, Hadot, The Inner Citadel: the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998).
Pierre Hadot, Philosophy as a Way of Life: Spiritual Exercises from Socrates to Foucault, ed. Arnold Ira Davidson (New York: Blackwell, 1995).
Elen Buzaré, Stoic Spiritual Exercises(Raleigh, N.C.: lulu.com, 2011).
Michael Chase, Stephen R. L. Clark, and Michael McGhee, eds., Philosophy as a Way of Life: Ancients and Moderns – Essays in Honor of Pierre Hadot(Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2013).
Pierre Hadot, What Is Ancient Philosophy?(Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press, 2002).
ENDNOTES:
[1] Robert Frodeman and Adam Briggle, Socrates Tenured: The Institutions of 21st-Century Philosophy(Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield International, 2016), 1.
[2] Michael Chase, “Introduction,” in Philosophy as a Way of Life: Ancients and Moderns – Essays in Honor of Pierre Hadot, ed. Michael Chase, Stephen R. L. Clark, and Michael McGhee (Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2013), 5.
[3] Lawrence C. Becker, A New Stoicism(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1998), 6.
[4] Pierre Hadot, The Inner Citadel: the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998), 308–9.
[5] Pierre Hadot,Philosophy as a Way of Life: Spiritual Exercises from Socrates to Foucault, ed. Arnold Ira Davidson (New York: Blackwell, 1995), 82.
[6] Hadot, 81.
[7] Hadot, 81–82.
[8] Marcus Aurelius, Meditations: With Selected Correspondence, trans. Robin Hard (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 161.
[9] Hadot, The inner citadel, 144–45.
[10] Pierre Hadot, What Is Ancient Philosophy?(Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press, 2002), 127.
[11] Chase, “Introduction,” 3–4.
