Epictetus, the freed slave turned Stoic philosopher and teacher, said the following:
Some things are within our power, while others are not. Within our power are opinion, motivation, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever is of our own doing; not within our power are our body, our property, reputation, office, and, in a word, whatever is not of our own doing. (Enchiridion 1)
In episode 5 of the Stoicism On Fire podcast, I covered the practice of attention (prosoche), which is, according to the philosopher Pierre Hadot, the fundamental Stoic spiritual attitude.[1] In this podcast, I will cover the category of things to which we are to pay attention—those are the things that are within our complete control. The popular term for this concept is the Dichotomy of Control, which Epictetus distinguished as what is and is not“up to us” (eph’ hêmin). Pierre Hadot called this distinction the fundamental rule of life for the Stoic practitioner.[2] Therefore, when we focus our attention on what is “up to us”, we combine the fundamental Stoic spiritual attitude with the fundamental rule of life and end up with what Hadot calls the fundamental Stoic attitude or Stoic moral attitude. This attitude is what enables us to make progress along the Stoic path—the path of the prokopton. Hadot defines this fundamental Stoic attitude in detail. Referring to Enchiridion1.1, Hadot writes:
Here, we can glimpse one of the Stoics’ most fundamental attitudes: the delimitation of our own sphere of liberty as an impregnable islet of autonomy, in the midst of the vast river of events and of Destiny. What depends on us are thus the acts of our soul, because we can freely choose them. We can judge or not judge, or judge in whatever manner we please; we can desire or not desire; will or not will. By contrast, that which does not depend on us—Epictetus lists our body, honors, riches, and high positions of authority—is everything that depends upon the general course of nature. Our body, first: it is true that we can move it, but we are not completely in control of it. Birth, death, sickness, involuntary movements, sensations of pleasure or of pain: all these are completely independent of our will. As for wealth and honors: we can, to be sure, attempt to acquire them, yet definitive success does not depend upon us, but upon a series of human factors and events which are exterior to us; they are imponderable and do not depend upon our will. Thus, the Stoic delimits a center of autonomy—the soul, as opposed to the body; and a guiding principle (hegemonikon) as opposed to the rest of the soul. It is within this guiding principle that freedom and our true self are located.[3]
The key phrase in that passage from Hadot’s book The Inner Citadel is “the impregnable islet of autonomy.” As we consider what is and is not “up to us” it is easy to see this fundamental rule of life as limiting. However, throughout the Discourses and Enchiridion, Epictetus teaches this rule for the opposite reason. It is by understanding what is and is not “up to us” that we can find true freedom. It is not an accident that Epictetus, a freed slave, emphasizes this rule and the freedom it provides—he understood the nature and value of true freedom as a result of high life experience.
The Stoics understood that externals cannot bring us the well-being we seek. Possessing them is indifferent with regard to our moral character; however, desiring them and pursuing them is the path to psychological anguish. Why? Because they can all be taken away in a moment—in a fire, a life-threatening illness, a hostile take-over of a company, a layoff, a market crash, a divorce, a terrible accident, etc. They may make us temporarily happy, but that is not what the Stoics meant by the Greek word eudaimonia. The eudaimonia of the Stoics was the sense of well-being that comes from the pursuit of virtue, or human excellence in the areas of wisdom, courage, justice, and moderation. The Stoics teach us it is possible to live an excellent (virtuous) human life, and thereby experience well-being, under any circumstances. That includes being imprisoned, enslaved, and even tortured. That is an entirely novel concept to most moderns. We tend to measure our happiness by externals—what we own, our health, job, relationships, etc. The Stoic argument against this measurement of happiness is really quite simple: Our human excellence (virtue) and resulting well-being cannot be dependent on anything we do not have complete control over. Otherwise, to use Epictetus’ language, we are a “slave” to those externals.
What Is “Up to Us”?
Enchiridion 1.1 makes it quite clear what is “up to us” and the list is quite short:
Focus on the contents of the circle in the diagram above for a moment. That is our unimpeded circle of control. Nothing, no one, not even God can influence what is inside that circle. Epictetus teaches us that we have complete control over all three items in that circle—we are the master of that inner domain. Unfortunately, we typically desire to control those things outside of that circle—what the Stoic called “externals” or “indifferents.” We desire good health, some wealth, a good reputation, etc., and we fear sickness, poverty, low social status, etc. Epictetus repeats one profound truth throughout the Discourses and the Enchiridion, and it is quite easy to understand; however, most of us refuse to consider it. What is that truth? We spend most of our lives desiring and fearing things that are not “up to us” because we consider them “good” or “bad,” and that leads to our misery. Meanwhile, we neglect the things that are wholly within our control: our judgments, desires and aversions, and impulse to act. How important is this distinction between what and is not “up to us”? Epictetus mentions it in fifty of the ninety-six chapters of the Discourses, and sixteen of the fifty-three chapters of the Enchiridion. Chapter 1 of the Discourses is focused exclusively on the topic. In Enchiridion1, Epictetus draws a sharp contrast between two paths, and it serves as both a promise and a warning.
Indifferents
There is a lot of confusion about “indifferents” in Stoicism. It is a mistake to assume the Stoic practitioner—prokopton—is indifferent to all externals, if by ‘indifferent’ we mean a total lack of interest in them and no pursuit of them. Food, water, and shelter are “indifferents” in Stoicism. However, we will not survive long without them. It is a natural human impulse to survive; therefore, we will pursue food, water, and shelter. Additionally, Stoicism teaches us that we are social animals and it is our duty to be involved in society. If we misinterpret a life in agreement with nature, and misunderstand indifferents, we could easily turn Stoic practice into the ascetic life of a renunciate hermit. That is most certainly not what the Stoics had in mind. If you are living a life in isolation from as many externals as possible, including other humans, how will you develop your virtue? What would a life of wisdom, courage, justice, and moderation even look like without externals? The practice and development of virtue requires externals. Therefore, as a Stoic prokopton, we cannot deny all externals.
The question that naturally arises then is this: What did the Stoics mean when they categorized all externals as indifferents? They meant they have no inherent moral value. They are neither “good” nor “bad” in the sense that possessing them makes us more or less virtuous. If we had a scale to measure value and we placed wisdom, courage, justice, and moderation on one side, that side of the scale would immediately drop as the value of virtue is immense. Now we start stacking indifferents on the other side—health, wealth, reputation, a house, high office, a long life, friends, family, a just government, etc. We keep stacking and stacking, but the scale doesn’t even budge. Why? Because none of those externals has any inherent value when measured against those virtues.
Image adapted from – WorldArtsMe
Nevertheless, there is an extremely important point that is frequently misunderstood about externals or “indifferents” (I use the words “externals” and “indifferents” interchangeably because all externals are indifferents): While they do not have any inherent value, many of them do have practical value. That means we can and must use some indifferents in our daily life—the Stoics labeled them “preferred indifferents.” These are indifferents that may be useful in the development of our human excellence (virtue). Therefore, our task as a Stoic prokopton is not to deny that indifferents have any value. Instead, our training must lead us to the realization that indifferents will not bring us happiness. Equally important is the understanding that desiring externals will bring us the opposite of virtue and happiness: It will result in psychological distress.
Living Between Denial and Desire
That brings us to where the rubber meets the road in our daily lives, where we must make choices about indifferents. Again, the Stoics were not renunciates; they did not renounce property, money, public office, social relationships, etc., as the ancient Cynics did. The Stoics did not deny the value of externals entirely; they denied their inherent value. The Stoic message is quite clear: Virtue is the only good; therefore, if we seek externals as a good, we will be hindered, we will lament, we will have a troubled mind, and ultimately, we will blame gods and humans for our distress (Enchiridion1). Nevertheless, we do choose some externals in our daily life as a part of being a social creature and fulfilling our duties. Epictetus uses the analogy of a banquet to drive this point home.
Remember that you should behave in life as you do at a banquet. Something is being passed around and arrives in front of you: reach out your hand and take your share politely. It passes: don’t try to hold it back. It has yet to reach you: don’t project your desire towards it, but wait until it arrives in front of you. So act likewise with regard to your children, to your wife, to public office, to riches, and the time will come when you’re worthy to have a seat at the banquets of the gods. (Enchiridion 15)
What does this analogy mean? How do we apply it to dealing with externals in our daily lives? The answer lies in one important phrase within that passage. Epictetus instructs us not to “project your desire towards” anything outside of our complete control. It is important to note that he did not instruct us to go to the banquet, sit still, allow the food to pass by, and go hungry. Instead, we are to wait until the external—in this case a plate of food—is brought to us. Then, when it is in front of us, within arm’s reach, we can take a portion. If, on the other hand, we project our desire toward that tray of food as it enters the room, we instantly create a longing to have what is not “up to us.” What happens then, if the server trips and accidentally dumps all of that food you desire onto the dirty floor? What happens if the tray is empty when it reaches you? What if the host simply does not offer you any food? If your desire for that food is strong, you will have cause to lament, you’ll have a troubled mind, and you’ll find fault with both gods and human beings (Enchiridion1).
How do we apply that banquet analogy to our lives? The food on the tray that we desire is analogous to the attractive mate, the high paying job, the big house, the new car, etc. None of those things is inherently good or bad, and if fate happens to bring them within arm’s reach, we can take our portion. Nevertheless, as practicing Stoics, we must not desire them—we must not reach to acquire them. We must trust that destiny will bring them near to us if they are to be ours. This is a critically important point. We must understand the potential danger of projecting our desire toward any of those externals lest we become a slave to them. Again, Epictetus warns:
Haven’t you heard it repeatedly stated that you must completely eradicate desire, and direct your aversion solely towards things that lie within the sphere of choice, and that you must give up everything, your body, possessions, reputation, and books or commotion, and office or freedom from office? For if you turn aside from this course, you’ve become a slave, you’re subject to others, you’re liable to hindrance and constraint, you’re entirely in the power of others. (Discourses 4.4.33)
Where does that leave us as practicing Stoics? It leaves us somewhere between denial and desire. We do not deny ourselves a good job, good health, a nice home, etc., those are preferred over the alternative. On the other hand, we must not allow ourselves to start desiring those externals. If we do, we will inevitably suffer the consequences Epictetus describes in Enchiridion1. The Stoic way of life is lived without denying or desiring externals.
Denial ⇐ Stoic way of life ⇒ Desire
Epictetus’ banquet story may be unsatisfactory for those who are looking for hard and fast rules to answer questions like: Is it OK for a Stoic to be wealthy? Is it OK for a Stoic to be a political leader? Is it OK for a Stoic to have fame and fortune? The answer is: Maybe. It might be yes, if fate brings those things to you and places them within arm’s reach. The answer is no if you desire them as ends in themselves and seek them for any reason other than the pursuit of virtue. Here is a simple question to ask that may help you determine whether it is appropriate for you to take a portion of any external: Will the loss of that external bring you psychological distress? That is not meant to imply you would be emotionless at the loss of the external. Stoics are not emotionless; however, if you are in possession of something, the loss of which would psychologically destroy you, that is a danger sign according to the Stoics.
Still, we must keep in mind that we cannot make hard and fast rules that will apply to all people, in all circumstances. The austerity practiced by a Marcus Aurelius is different than that practiced by an Epictetus, yet they both lived the Stoic way of life in agreement with nature. Therefore, one person’s austerity may be another person’s opulence. Please do not misunderstand my point. Any subjectivity regarding externals cannot be based on our individual preferences; instead, it is based on what the will of the providential cosmos has assigned us. When considering externals, keep Marcus’ profoundly powerful words in mind,
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)
So many of the things and events in our lives are not “up to us,” yet we frequently struggle to control what we cannot rather than learning to live in agreement with the nature of things. That is the point of the famous Stoic doctrine to live in agreement with nature. It can be more easily understood as living in agreement with the nature of things—the way things happen in nature. Why must we conform our desires and will to nature? Because most things and events that occur in nature are beyond our control. Our refusal to accept that truth and live accordingly causes us psychological angst. People often ask what difference it makes whether one believes the cosmos is providentially ordered or just a random, fortuitous accident (atoms)? First, I am not sure what it would mean to live in agreement with a random universe, beyond mere submission to necessity. However, that turns the cosmos into the metaphorical equivalent of a brutal tyrant that leaves us no choice but to submit. We do not see an attitude of mere submission within the writings, of Seneca, the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius or the Discourses of Epictetus. Certainly, there are references to submission to fate and necessity. Nonetheless, the Stoics did not stop at submission; instead, they argued we must develop an attitude of gratitude toward all the events of nature. Epictetus argues,
From everything that happens in the universe it is easy to praise providence, if one has within him two things: the faculty of taking a comprehensive view of the things that happen to each person and a sense of gratitude. For, otherwise, one will either fail to recognize the usefulness of what has come about, or else fail to be truly grateful if one does in fact recognize it. (Discourses1.6.1-2)
I fully understand that many moderns object to this aspect of Stoicism; nevertheless, it is a fundamental and essential part of Stoic practice, as the ancients conceived it. That is the reason we see statements like the following from Epictetus on this topic:
What are we to do, then? To make the best of what lies within our power, and deal with everything else as it comes. ‘How does it come, then?’ As God wills. (Discourses 1.1.17)
Is it, then, only in this most grave and important matter, that of freedom, that it is possible for me to desire according to my whim? In no way, but rather true education consists precisely in this, in learning to wish that everything should come about just as it does. And how do things come about? As the one who ordains them has ordained. (Discourses 1.12.15)
Judgments, Desires, and Impulses—Attention to What Is “up to us”
Now that we have some grasp of the distinction between what is and is not “up to us,” and some clarification on how we are supposed to deal with those things and events outside of our control, it is time to take a deeper dive into those things that are “up to us.” After all, those are the things on which we are to focus our attention in order to develop our human excellence and thereby experience well-being.
Value-judgments (hypolepseis)
Our beliefs (opinions) are derived from our value judgments (assents) to external things and events. As Epictetus teaches:
It isn’t what has happened that so distresses this person— for someone else could suffer the same without feeling that distress—but rather the judgement that he has formed about it. (Enchiridion 16)
These value judgments are the result of our interpretation of things and events in nature. Stoicism teaches us that things and events are neither good nor bad for us. Instead, it is our judgment of the thing or event that determines its value to us. Therefore, interpreting and judging things and events correctly is critically important for the Stoic. What one person considers a tragic event, another person may take on as an opportunity for the development of their character. It is not the things and events in life that cause us distress, it is our mistaken interpretation of them. Our judgments are completely within our control—they are “up to us.”
Desires (orexis) and Aversions
Desires and aversions are typically two sides of the same coin. The meaning of desire is rather intuitive; however, another word for aversion is fear. Therefore, desires are the things we want or events we want to happen, and aversions are the things we do not want and the events we do not want to happen. When our lives are driven by desires for some things and fears of others we are in a state of psychological distress (pathe). As should be obvious, there is a causal connection between our value judgments and our desires and aversions. What we desire and what we fear are completely within our control—they are “up to us.”
Impulses toward action (horme)
The impulse to act is the final step in the process:
value judgments ⇒ desires and aversions ⇒ impulse to act
When we consider this causal chain, the reason for the Stoic emphasis on assent and value judgment becomes quite clear. It is also important to note the ethical value for a Stoic is determined by the impulse to act, not the act itself or the outcome. That is because the ability to carry out the act and the outcome of the action are not completely “up to us.” Therefore, our virtue cannot be dependent upon them. If the value judgment is correct, the desire is to act virtuously, and the impulse is aimed at a virtuous end, the moral worth is already measured. Our inability to carry out the action or our failure to bring about the virtuous end is not counted against us.
The Stoic Spiritual Disciplines
Interestingly, each of the things within our control has a spiritual practice associated with it. These spiritual practices are part of the path of the prokopton. As the path of the prokopton makes clear, Stoicism is a philosophical way of life designed to discipline our value judgments, desires and aversion, and impulses to action.
Value-judgments (hypolepseis) – Discipline of Assent
Desires (orexis) and Aversions – Discipline of Desire
Impulses toward action (horme) – Discipline of Action
Each of those spiritual disciplines will be covered during this series of episodes on the path of the prokopton.
The Stoic Moral Attitude
As we prepare to embark on the study and practice of that path of the prokopton in future episodes, keep in mind the Stoic moral attitude I referred to earlier. Prosoche (attention—the fundamental spiritual attitude), combined with what is up to us (the fundamental rule of life), creates the Stoic moral attitude (grateful consent to destiny). The Stoic moral attitude is the conscious and intentional stance the prokopton takes toward the nature of things. It is the existential choice to gratefully consent to events beyond our control because those events are the product of a providentially ordered cosmos. There is no better passage to express this attitude than the one by Marcus I quoted above. Therefore, I offer it again and suggest you keep this passage close at hand:
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)
Throughout the Meditations, we see Marcus encouraging himself to lovingly consent to the will of Nature—the providentially ordered cosmos. This is the attitude Marcus constantly attempts to engender in his notes to himself. When he senses that attitude slipping away, he reminds himself:
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. (Meditations 4.3.5)
What is “up to us” is inextricably connected to the nature of things—the way the world operates. This entails a connection between our model of reality (physics) and our model for reality (ethics). The Stoics argued that connection is essential and that is the reason they insisted that Stoic theory and practice must include a providentially ordered cosmos. Without it, concepts like living in agreement with nature, focusing our attention exclusively on what it “up to us,” and consent to all the events of nature take on an entirely different meaning; one that would be quite foreign to the ancient Stoics.
In the coming episodes, I will cover the Stoic spiritual exercises that enable us to make progress along the Stoic path of the prokopton toward human excellence (virtue) and well-being (eudaimonia). Until then, pay attention to what is within your control and make appropriate use of externals to develop your excellence as a rational human being. Find your true freedom within those things that are within your complete control. Pay attention to your value-judgments, desires and aversions, and intentions to act, and learn to trust the cosmos for what is not within your control. By doing so, you will foster a Stoic moral attitude, develop your human excellence, and set yourself on the path toward true freedom and well-being. Developing a Stoic moral attitude will set your practice of Stoicism on fire.
ENDNOTES:
[1] Pierre Hadot, Philosophy as a Way of Life: Spiritual Exercises from Socrates to Foucault, ed. Arnold Ira Davidson (New York: Blackwell, 1995). p. 84
[2] Ibid
[3] Pierre Hadot, The Inner Citadel: the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998). pp. 83-4
