Just wanted to get in touch with our first real update about this publication. It’s kind of taken off like a rocket, to my surprise.
Just wanted to get in touch with our first real update about this publication. It’s kind of taken off like a rocket, to my surprise.
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In the 17th century, Rene Descartes, the father of modern philosophy, described how his famous epistemological meditations led him to develop a moral code, based upon three central maxims.
The first two of these refer to respect for custom and consistency in life. However, Descartes’ account of his third maxim provides a remarkable expression of certain ideas that have a markedly Stoic flavour.
In the third chapter of his Discourse on Method, he writes:
My third maxim was always to try to conquer myself rather than fortune, and to change my desires rather than the order of the world, and generally to accustom myself to believing that there is nothing that is completely within our power except our thoughts, so that, after we have done our best regarding things external to us, everything that is lacking for us to succeed is, from our point of view, absolutely impossible. And this alone seemed to me sufficient to prevent me in the future from desiring anything but what I was to acquire, and thus to make me contented.
He continues by explaining that we tend by nature to desire only what we perceive as within the realms of possibility. In some cases it’s obvious that something is, for all practical purposes, unachievable. We all accept that it’s pointless to desire things that we know are totally beyond our power — like wishing we’d been the first man on the moon. That would be absurd. However, in many cases the situation appears more ambiguous.
Nevertheless, if we were to regard everything external to us to be equally beyond our power, says Descartes, we would have no more regret about lacking those of which we’re deprived “than we have in not possessing the kingdoms of China or Mexico”.
…making a virtue of necessity, as they say, we shall no more desire to be healthy if we are sick, or to be free if we are in prison, than we do to have a body made of a material as incorruptible as diamonds, or wings to fly like birds.
This is one form of the Stoic contemplation upon necessity and determinism. It is clear, as the ancient philosophers observed, that nobody really feels pity for an infant because it cannot yet walk or speak, although we may feel differently about an adult who is mute or lame. People do not become frustrated because they cannot grow wings and fly but they do often envy the wealth and possessions of others.
And this alone seemed to me sufficient to prevent me in the future from desiring anything but what I was to acquire, and thus to make me contented.
Accepting that something is outside of our control often seems to mean that we give up our desire for it but people often seem to torture themselves with goals that, although possible for other people or for them at another stage in life, are not currently within their power to achieve. For example, many people wish they could change the past, or wish that they were rich and famous, demands which are either illogical, physically impossible, or unrealistic given the limitations of their current circumstances.
Descartes continues by admitting that “long exercise is needed as well as frequently repeated meditation, in order to become accustomed to looking at everything from this point of view”. However, he says that he believes that it was mainly in this practice that the secret of certain philosophers consisted “who in earlier times were able to free themselves from fortune’s domination and who, despite sorrows and poverty, could rival their gods in happiness.” This could apply to many ancient philosophers, although his remarks bear an obvious resemblance to the way that the Stoics were traditionally described.
For occupying themselves ceaselessly with considering the limits prescribed to them by nature, they so perfectly persuaded themselves that nothing was in their power but their affection for other things, and they controlled their thoughts so absolutely that in this they had some reason for reckoning themselves richer, more powerful, freer, and happier than any other men who, not having this philosophy, never thus controlled everything they wished to control, however favoured by nature and fortune they might be.
In short, when it is beyond our power to obtain something we should admit it clearly and unambiguously to ourselves. We should not allow our desire to linger on because of some ambiguity. Like a fish that slips through our nets, we should accept that it is gone for good. Perhaps it once seemed possible that it could be ours but it is no longer so. In that case, rather than continuing to desire it we should file it away under the category of “absolutely impossible” so that we can forget about it and move on.
I run several online groups, including the largest Facebook group for Stoic philosophy — it currently has over 78k members. I’ve been running large online discussion forums since way back in 1999, when I created my first Yahoogroup. Since then I’ve written several books on applying Stoic philosophy to modern life. The most recent was called How to Think Like a Roman Emperor: The Stoic Philosophy of Marcus Aurelius. A good Stoic would follow Epictetus’ famous slogan when on social media: endure and renounce. So when it comes to getting sucked into arguments online or wasting too much time on Twitter and Facebook — I should probably know better by now.
I am convinced that Stoicism is especially relevant to the challenges of coping with social media.
I guess I do have the excuse that social media has been an important part of my job for as long as I care to remember now. So maybe I can’t avoid it completely. I’ve been thinking for a long time now, though, that I should be applying the teachings of Stoicism more consistently to my own online behaviour and the way I deal with arguments, etc. I get plenty of practice. If you write books then trolls will eventually come after you online. Also, if you run forums often you’ll have to ban people for becoming abusive, usually following complaints from other group members. Most of the time they’ll be angry and you’ll get quite a few abusive messages from them. In this article, I’m going to explain why I think this is really just a modern version of an age-old problem and how some specific techniques from ancient Greek philosophy can help us.
Social Media as the Digital Sophist
Funnily enough, I am convinced that Stoicism is especially relevant to the challenges of coping with social media. That surprises many people. They can see that it might help a bit but why would an ancient philosophy, one that originated in 300 BC, offer anything special when it comes to problems that only arise in the Age of the Internet? Well, here’s the thing… Socrates developed his philosophy in response Athenian intellectuals called the Sophists. The Stoics stand very much in the Socratic tradition — they further developed the practical application of his ideas. Maybe you’ve heard of the Sophists. I’m going to say that Facebook is a Sophist.
In fact, social media in general, IMHO, is the digital equivalent of the ancient Sophists. Let me explain. The Sophists were orators who often became fabulously wealthy very quickly if they achieved celebrity status. They would go from one Greek town to another, like rock stars on tour, delivering speeches to audiences consisting of hundreds, perhaps even a thousand or more, wealthy young men. They claimed to teach wisdom and improve their listeners. You could say they promised to impart sophistication, an English word with a long history that actually derives from “Sophist”.
Now, curiously, Socrates actually said that the Sophists often appeared indistinguishable from philosophers. They might talk about the same things, often about the virtues. Indeed, the Sophists would borrow concepts and arguments from philosophers. Likewise, philosophers, even Socrates himself, would often quote from the Sophists. You might even loosely describe the Sophists as sort of like philosophers. However, Socrates said there was a fundamental difference that actually meant they were quite opposed to one another. Although they may both say identical things, at times, about virtue, they were doing so in a different way and for different reasons.
The Sophists would say whatever people wanted to hear. They would literally, when delivering speeches, compete with one another to win the most applause from a crowd. You could call that a simple algorithm. If they borrowed something from Socrates and people applauded — they’d keep saying it. If the audience weren’t impressed, though, they’d change their tune and try saying something else. They were only interested in the appearance of wisdom — at least that’s what Socrates alleges — and not the real pursuit of it. Social media works in pretty much the same way. Content that gets the most likes, or the most engagement, gets the most exposure. It’s a popularity contest — the ancient Sophists would have been in their element today.
Modern-day self-improvement gurus, motivational speakers, and social influencers are also the Sophists’ descendants.
Now, sometimes that means the Sophists actually said things that were true and virtuous — they appeared wise and good. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day, though, isn’t it? They didn’t really live in accord with their own teachings. How could they? They changed them to suit whatever their audiences wanted to hear. They also tended not to be very good at defending them from rational criticism. Socrates notes that they liked to deliver long speeches, where the audience would lose track of the steps involved in the argument. He employed a completely different method, known as the “question and answer” approach, which required clear definitions of key terms and proceeded more slowly and cautiously, one (relatively) short statement at a time, so that each could be properly evaluated in turn.
That’s a simple observation that’s often forgotten today: it’s easy to blind people with rhetoric if you’re allowed to speak for a long time without interruption. What if the assumption upon which your entire argument is based turns out to be false though? In reality, that’s often the case. The audience lose sight of that pretty quickly, though, as long as you keep talking and can maintain their attention. Today we get to watch videos online of people ranting for ten minutes about the political hot potato of the day, from “Antifa” and “cultural Marxism” to the “alt-right” and even the word “racism”. It would be less fun to watch if someone interrupted them after one minute and asked them to clearly define these terms. That would be more likely to happen in a face to face conversation but we seldom get that opportunity online, for various reasons. So, yes, I’m saying that, in a sense, social media makes us all stupider.
How did the Sophists win applause? By capturing and maintaining the attention of the audience. By using rhetoric to manipulate their emotions, often stirring up anger or anxiety, pride or patriotism, etc. It’s the art of persuasion rather than logic, which seeks praise rather than truth, and does so by every shortcut available. Sophists would dress in fine clothes and develop their speaking voices to create an attention-grabbing appearance, by seeming exotic, unique, and important. They had the status of celebrity experts but were ultimately professional showmen. Modern-day self-improvement gurus, motivational speakers, and social influencers are also their descendants.
So what’s the problem? Well, suppose your real goal is to get the biggest rounds of applause from the largest crowds possible because that’s how you make the most coin. You’re going to find yourself in competition with a bunch of other people doing the same thing. So you’re engaged in a battle for the public’s attention and their approval— to catch their eye in the first place, keep their attention as long as possible, and win their praise. One easy way to get their attention is to say something shocking. Then you keep their attention by provoking an emotional state of fear and anger, and puffing them up with a sense of their own importance. Then you win their approval by telling them whatever they want to hear — like an echo chamber.
Yup, that’s basically what social media, the news, and politicians, are trying to do to you every day as well. “Trump supporter leaves CNN anchor speechless”, the headline says, or “Biden’s comment on black voters leaves ‘The Five’ [Fox News] speechless” — they both use essentially the same type of emotive rhetoric to mess with your head and hijack your attention for five or ten minutes. And you know what else? I don’t think it’s any coincidence that Internet trolls do more or less the same thing. The media make money by gaining your attention because their sponsors want to sell you things. Trolls just desperately crave your attention because they’re ultimately narcissists who feel more lonely than they’re capable of recognizing or admitting to themselves — they need your reaction to temporarily fill the emotional black hole inside them.
How Stoicism Kills the Digital Sophist
Then Socrates walked into town, into the agora, and the game changed. He started asking people difficult questions, which often provoked their anger, but he never got into arguments with them. That took self-discipline on his part. The Stoic philosopher Epictetus repeatedly tells his students that they should take Socrates as their role model. This might surprise you but do you know what he says the main thing is that we can learn from Socrates?
Now this was the first and chief peculiarity of Socrates, never to be irritated in argument, never to utter any thing abusive, any thing insulting, but to bear with abusive persons and to put an end to the quarrel. If you would know what great power he had in this way, read the Symposium of Xenophon, and you will see how many quarrels he put an end to. — Epictetus
Sometimes people, who don’t know very much about Socrates, say that he was the Athenian equivalent of an Internet troll. He was actually the opposite. Socrates didn’t try to provoke arguments. His goal was always to get a step closer to wisdom, for both his own sake and that of the person with whom he was conversing. Socrates was always exceptionally polite to other people, even when, as often happened, they became abusive or even violent toward him because they didn’t like being questioned so much. Epictetus understood this aspect of Socrates very well and emphasized it to his students.
Socrates and the Stoics also didn’t allow themselves to be baited by the Sophists. In fact, they actively employed counter-measures against the emotive power of rhetoric. How? Well, the Stoics developed this into an art form that consists of many different psychological techniques. The most fundamental is perhaps the separation of our judgments, particularly our value judgements, from external events. (I call this “cognitive distancing”, borrowing a technical term from cognitive psychotherapy.) This notion is summed up in perhaps the most famous quote from Epictetus: “It’s not things that upset us but rather our opinions about them.”
So let’s begin translating this into practical advice for the modern world… When someone gets angry with you or tries to make you angry online, you should remind yourself of this quote from Epictetus. Ask yourself, as Epictetus does in the very next sentence actually, whether other people would necessarily feel the same way about what just happened. How, for instance, might Socrates, Epictetus, or Marcus Aurelius respond to an Internet troll? Exploring these alternative perspectives can create something we call “cognitive flexibility”, the ability to entertain several ways of looking at an event. By contrast, when people are really upset they tend to get rigidly locked into a particular viewpoint, and fused with that way of thinking. It’s normal and healthy to be able to say: “I guess I could be angry about this… or I could view it differently.”
In a sense, you’re choosing to be angry. So a Stoic would also consider the consequences of doing that. One of their favourite slogans is that “Anger does us more harm than the things we’re angry about.” Marcus Aurelius actually imagines saying this to someone who’s angry with him, possibly even his own son, Commodus.
No, my son, we were born for something other than this; it is not I who am harmed, it is you, my son, who are causing harm to yourself. — Meditations, 11.18
Getting annoyed with the Internet troll or the alarmist news that Facebook’s algorithms think you want to read, will do you moral harm, destroying your character, whereas the most that external events can do is kill you. And Internet trolls can’t really do much harm at all unless you let them. (Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, as the rhyme goes.) That goes for people who are angry with you as well — it’s their choice ultimately. You’ll find a lot of people online get angry just because you don’t agree with them. Other people respond very differently to that, though. And they do themselves more harm by getting angry than you ever could just by saying something they don’t like.
Now, that’s no reason to deliberately go around saying provocative things, though. Quite the opposite. Unless you get a kick out of upsetting people, why bother if it’s not helping anyone? Nobody is perfect. We should anticipate that other people will sometimes get mad unnecessarily. They’re only human after all. That’s why Socrates was known for being so patient and courteous to others. He had no desire to harm or upset anyone but he accepted the fact that sometimes they would get angry even though he was trying to help them.
Another important aspect of Stoicism is sophrosune, which is traditionally translated as “temperance” in Victorian English or nowadays as “moderation”. Those aren’t perfect translations, though. For the ancient Greeks, it was a more subtle concept, which implied a kind of moral wisdom and self-awareness. In many ways, it also resembles what we mean today by mindfulness. In one of the Socratic dialogues, Plato’s Charmides, the boys wrestling in the gymnasium are asked to define the virtue of sophrosune and they give what seems to them the most obvious example: speaking quietly and walking slowly, as opposed to running around being noisy and boisterous, and annoying others.
Socrates quickly notes that this isn’t exactly wrong but it’s too specific to be a good definition. However, it’s still a good example of one type of moderation. It’s about having the self-awareness to realize what’s appropriate. The person who speaks loudly and annoys other passengers on the bus, without realizing, lacks this virtue — they’re not being mindful of their surroundings. We should use social media with moderation and self-awareness. We’re entering into a wrestling match, in fact, with algorithms and obnoxious individuals who are out to trap us by grabbing our attention and provoking an emotional reaction.
Some philosophers, such as the Epicurean sect, might advise us simply to withdraw from contact with things that ruffle our feathers. The Stoics think we need to face these challenges, though. Nevertheless, that’s necessarily going to require the deployment of psychological counter-measures, which will take at least a little bit of consistent effort on our part. We have to be motivated to help ourselves, in other words. Moreover, the only realistic way to deal with a threat like the digital Sophist is to exercise more or less permanent vigilance. That’s precisely what the Stoics taught. They call it prosoche, or continual “attention” to the way you’re using your mind, particularly your value judgements and how they interact with your emotions and desires.
The Stoics have various ways of helping us to do this. One would be to pause and ask yourself whether each interaction is really necessary. Does it actually serve your fundamental goal in life? For Stoics, that’s synonymous with asking whether it’s going to make you more fulfilled, whether it’s going to help you flourish as a human being, or whether it’s leading you astray, in the opposite direction from genuine flourishing (eudaimonia).
Psychologists now know that people often engage in habits they consider pleasurable — from social media to crack cocaine — as a way of distracting themselves from or suppressing unpleasant feelings. […] Someone compulsively checking social media might stop and ask if not reading each individual notification would really be so unbearable. If you practice self-awareness in this way, you’ll often (but not always) realize that the pleasure you obtain from such habits is actually much less than you previously assumed. — How to Think Like a Roman Emperor
Someone says something you don’t like online. Stop and think. Do you really need to respond? Does it actually benefit you or them? If you’re not sure then guess what? The answer is that it probably benefits you more to exercise restraint and develop the virtue of sophrosune. That’s a good guide in life. Precisely when it takes an effort to hold back, even if you’re not sure what else to do, learning to hold yourself back is probably going to make you stronger. You can always, as Epictetus tells his students, wait until your emotions have settled down naturally, and respond later if it still seems worthwhile.
Conclusion
There are many ways in which Socrates and the Stoics help us to deal more wisely with the digital Sophist, or social media, and Internet trolls, etc. I believe that the most powerful tool we have available in this respect is simply to shift the discussion on to this question. I spent years training psychotherapists, a notoriously argumentative profession, and I became very aware that if I started talking about ways in which we can communicate better and learn more in group discussions, well, that changed the whole atmosphere dramatically. So let me ask you: how can the teachings of Socrates and the Stoics help us to live more virtuously in cyber-space?
How would Marcus Aurelius use Facebook? Some people, I know say he wouldn’t, but I’m certain he would. We’re told the Stoics believed that a wise man engages in public life, if nothing prevents him, and that the good naturally have an inclination to write books, or blog posts, that help other people. So how would a Stoic use social media wisely? What do you think their teachings tell us about responding to argumentative people online. I think the famous slogan of Epictetus can help: endure and renounce. We should be mindful of ourselves and learn to endure provocative behaviour without getting upset about it, and renounce our desire to respond angrily or to indulge excessively in online behaviour that’s not contributing to eudaimonia. What do you think, though?
Comparing the Lyrics of Imagine to Zeno’s Republic
Comparing the Lyrics of Imagine to Zeno’s Republic
People often tell me that they’ve heard a song the lyrics of which seem “kind of Stoic” to them. Usually they’re referring to songs about enduring hardship heroically, and so on. However, there’s a very different type of song that strikes me as uncannily reminiscent of ancient Stoicism. It happens to contain some of the most famous lyrics ever written by one of the most celebrated songwriters in recent history.
Imagine by John Lennon describes a shamelessly Utopian vision of society. I’m going to discuss the lyrics below, comparing them to the Utopian dream described in Zeno’s Republic, the most influential early Stoic text. The Republic was, in part, a scathing critique of Plato’s book of the same name, written while Zeno was aligned with the Cynic philosophy. Unfortunately, it has long been lost but we do have several fragments and commentaries, which allow us to make a comparison, as you’ll see.
Imagine there’s no heaven It’s easy if you try No hell below us Above us only sky
Most of the Stoics did believe in Zeus. However, their conception of the gods was radically different from the anthropomorphic one found in traditional Greek mythology. Indeed, later generations of philosophers, and Christians, sometimes attacked the Stoics for being atheists. The Stoics were pantheists, however, who believed that the Greek myths were metaphors for different aspects of universal Nature. Theirs was a more materialist conception of the divine — Zeus is imminent in Nature not transcendent.
Marcus Aurelius goes so far as to say that although as emperor his “city and fatherland is Rome” as a human being, nevertheless, “it is the universe”.
Although they did believe in a god, of sorts, for the Stoics therefore, like Lennon, there’s no Heaven or Hell, just the physical world around us. For instance, here the Stoic Seneca says that it’s unnecessary to argue at length, like Epicureans did, against the traditional myths of the underworld or Hades, because only a child would take such old wives’ tales seriously.
I am not so foolish as to go through at this juncture the arguments which Epicurus harps upon, and say that the terrors of the world below are idle — that Ixion does not whirl round on his wheel, that Sisyphus does not shoulder his stone uphill, that a man’s entrails cannot be restored and devoured every day; no one is so childish as to fear Cerberus, or the shadows, or the spectral garb of those who are held together by naught but their unfleshed bones. — Seneca, Letters, 24
Imagine all the people living for today
Without the concept of an afterlife, Lennon is saying, people focus their attention more fully on living in the here and now. This is a major recurring theme in Stoic philosophy, especially in The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius.
Even if you were to live for three thousand years or ten times as long, you should still remember this, that no one loses any life other than the one that he is living, nor does he live any life other than the one that he loses… for it is solely of the present moment that each will be deprived, if it is really the case that this is all he has and a person cannot lose what he does not have. — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 2.14
Stoics are therefore urged to live with wisdom and virtue now, before it is too late. “No more of all this talk about what a good man should be,” says Marcus, “but simply be one!” (Meditations, 10.16).
Imagine there’s no countries It isn’t hard to do
One of the central concepts of Stoic ethics is “cosmopolitanism”, the notion that we should see ourselves first and foremost as citizens of the worldwide community of the human race, and only second to that as citizens of a particular country. Marcus Aurelius goes so far as to say that although as emperor his “city and fatherland is Rome” as a human being, nevertheless, “it is the universe” (Meditations, 6.44).
Indeed, Stoic ethics and theory of justice is based on a concept of universal “natural law”, which is more fundamental than the laws written by legislators for any particular nation. It’s the precursor of the tradition, via Cicero, that leads to the concept of “universal human rights” in modern politics and international law.
Nothing to kill or die for
The Stoics believed that, ultimately, all human conflict is the consequence of excessive attachment to external goods of one sort or another.
Well then, did you never see little dogs caressing and playing with one another, so that you might say, there is nothing more friendly? but that you may know what friendship is, throw a bit of flesh among them, and you will learn. Throw between yourself and your son a little estate, and you will know how soon he will wish to bury you and how soon you wish your son to die. — Epictetus, Discourses, 2.22
Lennon implies that without nations there would be no wars and the Stoics have the same idealistic vision: that if we treated every living human being as our kin and shared our resources in common there would, in theory at least, no longer be any reason to fight one another.
And no religion too
We’re told one controversial feature of Zeno’s ideal Republic was that temples would be completely abolished, which perhaps implies no priesthood. That appears to mean that there would be no room for organized religion as we normally understand it, although presumably ancient Stoic citizens could still worship Zeus in private, as that was typically part of their philosophy.
Why do we seek gods any further? Whatever you see, whatever you experience, is Jupiter.
For instance, Seneca’s nephew, Lucan, was also a Stoic. He wrote an epic poem about the Great Roman Civil War called The Pharsalia, in which the Stoic hero, Cato of Utica is portrayed leading the shattered remnants of the Republican army to make a final stand against Julius Caesar. While marching through the deserts of North Africa, an officer suggests that Cato should, as would be expected, consult a nearby shrine in order to obtain from the priests a prophecy about the outcome of the war. Cato, however, refuses to do so, giving his Stoic beliefs as a reason:
We are all connected with the gods above, and even if the shrine is silent we do nothing without God’s will; no need has deity of any utterances: the Creator told us at our birth once and always whatever we can know. Did he select the barren sands to prophesy to a few and in this dust submerge the truth and is there any house of God except the earth and sea and air and sky and excellence? Why do we seek gods any further? Whatever you see, whatever you experience, is Jupiter. — Lucan, Pharsalia
Though written three centuries after Zeno’s Republic, that seems to echo the idea that Stoics, being sincere pantheists, would see no need for temples or such religious trappings. Zeus is present everywhere, not just in temples, and he resides in everyone — the clergy don’t have any privileged status in that regard. Indeed, to a large extent, traditional Greek and Roman religious practices may have appeared to the philosophers as little more than superstition.
Imagine all the people living life in peace…
Zeno said that the goal of Stoicism was “living in agreement”, which implied living harmoniously with oneself, with universal Nature, and with the rest of mankind. He also describes this as the goal of having a “smoothly flowing” life. This comes from a kind of friendship or love:
Zeno of Citium thought that Love was the God of Friendship and Liberty and the author of concord among people, but nothing else. Hence, he says in his Republic, that “Love is a God, who cooperates in securing the safety of the city.” — Athenaeus of Naucratis, Deipnosophistae
To quote another song Lennon helped write: “All you need is love.” The love of the philosophers, though, is non-possessive and universal. It’s a bond of brotherly love that unites all the citizens of the ideal society in friendship.
You may say I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one
As we’ll see below, Plutarch tells us that Zeno’s book The Republic, was presented as though in a dream, i.e., like Imagine it’s intended as a Utopian vision of society.
I hope some day you’ll join us And the world will be as one
This notion of the unity or brotherhood of mankind arguably comes, via Christianity, from the Stoics. It’s certainly characteristically Stoic. We can see it as closely-related, once again, to their pantheism — the belief that Zeus or God is synonymous with Nature. If the universe considered as a whole is sacred then we should strive to think of life in terms of the big picture and ourselves as parts of that whole. Marcus compares individual humans to the limbs of an organism, whereas today we could speak of individual people as be comparable to cells in the body of the universe as a whole.
From that vision of individuals as parts of a greater whole, though, it follows that we should also try to view ourselves as part of mankind as a whole rather than as atomistic individuals, fragmented and alienated from one another.
It is impossible to cut a branch from the branch to which it is attached unless you cut it from the tree as a whole; and likewise, a human being cut off from a single one of his fellows has dropped out of the community as a whole. Now in the case of the branch, someone else cuts it off, but a human being cuts himself off from his neighbour of his own accord, when he comes to hate him and turns his back on him; and he fails to see that by doing this, he has cut himself off from society as a whole. — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 11.8
Imagine no possessions I wonder if you can No need for greed or hunger A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people sharing all the world…
The much-admired Republic of Zeno, the founder of the Stoic sect, may be summed up in this one main principle: that all the inhabitants of this world of ours should not live differentiated by their respective rules of justice into separate cities and communities…
In the final verse, Lennon makes it fairly explicit that he’s describing a sort of socialist Utopian state, in which property is held in common.
“‘Imagine’, which says: ‘Imagine that there was no more religion, no more country, no more politics,’ is virtually the Communist Manifesto, even though I’m not particularly a Communist and I do not belong to any movement. — John Lennon
He reputedly said that he didn’t mean Chinese or Russian communism but something more “British”. Diogenes Laertius and other sources imply that in Zeno’s Republic property would be held in common and money deemed unnecessary. For instance, in a seldom-quoted passage, the satirist Lucian describes the Stoic vision of an ideal society:
All sorts of things that go on here, such as robbery, assault, unfair gain, you will never find attempted there, I believe; their relations are all peace and unity; and this is quite natural, seeing that none of the things which elsewhere occasion strife and rivalry, and prompt men to plot against their neighbours, so much as come in their way at all. Gold, pleasures, distinctions, they never regard as objects of dispute; they have banished them long ago as undesirable elements. Their life is serene and blissful, in the enjoyment of legality, equality, liberty, and all other good things. — Lucian, Hermotimus, or the Rival Philosophies
However, the original expression of these basic Stoic themes is perhaps captured in the brief description given by Plutarch:
Moreover, the much-admired Republic of Zeno, the founder of the Stoic sect, may be summed up in this one main principle: that all the inhabitants of this world of ours should not live differentiated by their respective rules of justice into separate cities and communities, but that we should consider all men to be of one community and one polity, and that we should have a common life and an order common to us all, even as a herd that feeds together and shares the pasturage of a common field. This Zeno wrote, giving shape to a dream or, as it were, shadowy picture of a well-ordered and philosophic commonwealth. — Plutarch, On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander
Although perhaps at first the comparison may have sounded far-fetched, I hope that by now it will be more apparent that the dream of a philosophical commonwealth in Zeno’s Republic really does sound remarkably like the Utopia of Lennon’s Imagine
I recently had the pleasure to talk to Kasey about her passion for Stoicism and how it helped her both personally and in her career as a comic book writer and editor.
Q: Can you tell us a little bit about yourself and your work?
Absolutely! First I would like to thank you for this interview. This is truly an honor. I’m a writer from the Metro Detroit area and my prose horror novella, Pieces of Madness (Rocket ink Studios), gave me residency on the comic convention circuit in 2015. This book of short horror stories (about the insane, cultist, and paranormal) picked up a bit of a subterranean following.
Shortly after, I joined the ranks of Source Point Press and created the Norah comic series (illustrated by Sean Seal). I’m so grateful to say this hand-painted sci-fi noir was met with great reception, became film-optioned, and made me one of flagship creators of the company. Pieces of Madness saw a deluxe rerelease in 2018 and my Viking witch one-shot series, Seeress, was released in 2019 (illustrated by Jay Jacot). This year, we introduced the next four-issue arch to the Norah series, illustrated by Kelly O’Hara.
Up until this book, I was only familiar with the term “stoic” with a lowercase “s”; an adjective to describe someone as strong and silent. As I listened, I realized what was being said was reinforcing an overall perspective I’ve exercised in my own life.
However, a large part of my brand was built on inspiring fellow comic creators. I’ve presented my panel on direct selling in indie comics, Good Luck with That, at many shows in the US, Canada, and overseas. This talk gives insight into not only how to sell your work, but how to summarize and pitch it to both the con-goer and potential publisher. Part memoir, it also sheds light on many misconceptions new creators have coming into the industry.
Currently, I run editing company, Red Pen Media; offering editing, copywriting, and creative advising.
Q: How did you first become interested in Stoicism?
I’m an Audible fanatic and if you go through my library, you’ll see that I’m also a fan of books that promote personal empowerment. I had just finished Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth and How to Think… was suggested by the app.
Q: How has Stoicism benefitted you in your personal life?
Up until this book, I was only familiar with the term “stoic” with a lowercase “s”; an adjective to describe someone as strong and silent. As I listened, I realized what was being said was reinforcing an overall perspective I’ve exercised in my own life. Only I always referred to it as “being a mercenary”. My describing myself that way might surprise some of my followers. They know me as being an upbeat, warm, and loving person. Well, that’s because I am. “Being a mercenary” to me never meant being cold. It was a perspective that dismantled things and events and kept me from unnecessarily exalting them. In other words, I saw things in black and white.
Keeping myself from spending time in hurt and grief gave me more time to spend on things that would propel my success. I would tell myself “I just don’t have time for this”, because really, I didn’t. For example, social media has provided a podium for users to consistently self-aggrandize, whine, or vaguely speak ill of another person. I would always remind myself that by acknowledging and getting wrapped up in these meaningless posts, I was giving power to the one who posted it; power over me, my time, and my emotions. I-DON’T-HAVE-TIME-FOR-THAT. Period.
Years ago, I practiced dismantling the pleasure of junk food to lose 115 lbs. I looked at nutrition facts just to read the list of chemicals that I couldn’t believe were fit for human consumption. Now, as I maintain my weight through intermittent fasting, whenever I feel a slight hunger pang and the temptation to break my fast early, I remind myself that hunger goes away — that it’s a temporary feeling. In terms of relationships, I’ve left men for the sake of the bigger picture. I’d remind myself that I was doing what was necessary and in our best interests in the long run. That heartbreak was also temporary.
This book helped me look at death for what it is: natural and inevitable. It’s normal to mourn but it’s the value-judgments we place on death that makes it more terrible than it needs to be.
Although this book gave a name to my existing perspective, I know I found this book at the perfect time in my life. Not only did it give me a name for my outlook, but it changed my perspective on death. My mother has had Alzheimer’s for some time now. However, considering she’s the survivor of two rounds of brain cancer and a stroke, her being alive today is a miracle I gladly embrace. Recently, I’ve been trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable.
This book helped me look at death for what it is: natural and inevitable. It’s normal to mourn but it’s the value-judgments we place on death that makes it more terrible than it needs to be. I would rather focus on the wonderful time I had with my mother instead of getting swept up in my loss. I know that grief will cripple me if I let it, keeping me from doing what’s necessary for my loved ones that are still living. I find the cognitive rehearsal of the event to be like grabbing a snake at the head instead of its middle. It gives me much more control and in turn, makes me all the more calm and rational.
Q: How has learning about Stoicism influenced your career?
Looking back on my early writing career, the mentors I picked up also had similar viewpoints. Source Point Press’ editor-n-chief, Travis McIntire, made no bones about pointing out if arguments I was making came from a rational place, or a precious creator’s ego. Thanks to him, and fellow creators like David Hayes, I learned to spot the difference.
Since I started in comics, the most tiresome question I get asked pertains to what it feels like to be a woman in the industry and if I suffer backlash from misogyny. I get ahead of this question by answering it in my panel with “always question the intent”. This is to say that where I’m expected to get angry about a prejudice a con-goer might have, I instead see it as an opportunity. I consider that some men may just be misguided without realizing it.
In the grand scheme, mankind wants to think and do the right thing. That’s why sometimes I pitch the book without saying I’m the writer. Once I get them genuinely engrossed in a pitch, one that mentions biowarfare and the works of Heinlein, it’s fun to watch their surprise when I ask if I can sign it for them because I’m the writer. Their response becomes a rewarding feeling because in that moment, I became an educator. Hopefully I also started the ball rolling in changing their perspective on women and what we’re expected to create (without relentlessly mentioning that I’m a female).
Q: What’s your favorite Stoic quote and why?
“It can only ruin your life if it ruins your character. Otherwise it cannot harm you — inside or out.” — Marcus Aurelius
I always say “nine times out of ten, worst case scenario is never anything we can’t bounce back from”. I think Marcus’ words here really enforce that. This quote also reveals the difference between what really matters and what doesn’t. It forces us to take a good look at what we may be giving power over us without realizing it. Truly an empowering quote if there ever was one.
Q: What are you working on at the moment?
A paranormal space opera about Alzheimer’s called The Other People Who Live Here (comic series).
You can find Kasey on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook, and find her work online in comics stores. Her consultancy business Red Pen Media is also on Facebook.
Modern Stoicism is a nonprofit organization, based in the UK, and run by a multi-disciplinary team of volunteers. It was founded in 2012 by Christopher Gill, Professor Emeritus of Ancient Thought at Exeter University in England. (I’m also one of the founding members.)
Please feel free to get in touch if you have any suggestions for new topics or guests. Hope you enjoy!
What the Stoic Philosophers Learned from Combat Sports
What the Stoic Philosophers Learned from Combat Sports
The art of living is more like the wrestler’s art than the dancer’s in this regard, that it must stand ready and firm to meet whatever happens to it, even when unforeseen. — Marcus Aurelius
Greek and Roman youths often engaged in combat sports, including wrestling, boxing, and also the pankration, which combined elements of both. It is no surprise that we find many references to these sports in the writings of ancient philosophers, many of whom participated in their youth, and later watched others compete.
The Historia Augusta says that in his youth the Stoic philosopher, and Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius was “fond of boxing and wrestling”, and that he had been trained to fight in armour. However, we’re told that over time he became more physically frail, suffering from chronic health problems, and his interest in philosophy came to distract him from these physical pursuits.
The Stoic philosopher must be psychologically resilient, he’s saying, and prepared in advance to meet the blows of fortune, like a wrestler facing his opponent.
Nevertheless, Marcus’ early enthusiasm for these sports inspired him to write of boxing, wrestling and pankration in The Meditations. In the quote above, he describes the whole “art of living” as resembling the art of wrestling. The Stoic philosopher must be psychologically resilient, he’s saying, and ready in advance to defend himself against the blows of fortune. Life is not like a being dancer with a co-operative partner, but more like being a wrestler facing an adversary — if we’re not prepared for misfortune it may overthrow us.
As well as wrestling in his youth, Marcus led a dance troupe called the College of the Salii. They performed ritual dances dedicated to Mars, the god of war, while dressed in arcane armour, carrying shields and weapons. For Roman youths, martial dance was a stylized way of rehearsing fighting moves, perhaps a little bit like the “patterns” or kata of east Asian martial arts.
When Marcus says that the basic Stoic attitude toward life is more like that of a wrestler than a dancer, he’s speaking from years of personal experience in both disciplines. As we’ll see, the idea that the mind-set of a philosopher should resemble a fighting stance had already been stressed centuries earlier by one of the leaders of the Stoic school.
Elsewhere, Marcus elaborates on different aspects of this analogy, such as in the following passage. His point here is that we should view misfortune in daily life as if it were training in the gymnasium, and our opponents, as if they were sparring partners. We should focus on how we grow stronger and more skilled by learning how to respond actively to misfortune, rather than allowing ourselves to respond passively, by becoming resentful.
In the gymnasium, someone may have scratched us with his nails or have collided with us and struck us a blow with his head, but, for all that, we do not mark him down as a bad character, or take offence, or view him with suspicion afterwards as one who wishes us ill. To be sure, we remain on our guard, but not in a hostile spirit or with undue suspicion; we simply try to avoid him in a friendly manner. So let us behave in much the same way in other areas of life: let us make many allowances for those who are, so to speak, the companions of our exercises. For it is possible, as I have said, to avoid them, and yet to view them neither with suspicion nor hatred. — Meditations, 6.20
Everyone who poses a challenge for us in life, in other words, is a “companion of our exercises” or potential sparring partner — friends, family, colleagues, etc. They all give us an opportunity to exercise wisdom and temperance.
In another well-known passage, Marcus compares the principles of Stoic philosophy to weapons.
In the application of one’s principles, one should resemble a pankratiast, and not a gladiator. For the gladiator lays aside the sword which he uses and then takes it up again, but the pankratiast always has his fist and simply needs to clench it. — Meditations, 12.9
Indeed, Marcus describes the ultimate goal of Stoicism, as becoming:
…a wrestler in the greatest contest of all, never to be overthrown by any [toxic] passion, deeply steeped in justice, welcoming with his whole heart all that comes about and is allotted to him, and never, except under some great necessity and for the good of his fellows, giving thought to [i.e., worrying about] what another is saying or doing or thinking.— Meditations, 3.4
If we can view life as a wrestling match, and people who bother us as sparring partners, who can help us improve our skills, he thinks we become like wrestlers in the greatest of all contests. As he says here, these skills involve learning to not be overthrown by unhealthy “passions” such as fear or anger, practising contentment with our lives, and not allowing ourselves to worry much about what other people think of us (unless it can somehow helps us do good in life).
Stoicism as Wrestling in Epictetus
The philosopher whom Marcus Aurelius quotes most often is the Stoic teacher Epictetus, who liked to compare training in philosophy to the instructions given by ancient wrestling coaches: if you fall get back up again, and keep fighting, if you want to become stronger.
But see what the trainers of boys do. Has the boy fallen? Rise, they say, wrestle again till you are made strong. Do you also do something of the same kind: for be well assured that nothing is more adaptable than the human soul. — Discourses, 4.9
Like Marcus, Epictetus portrays philosophy as the greatest fight of all, for the prize of good fortune and happiness.
For we must not shrink when we are engaged in the greatest combat, but we must even take blows. For the combat before us is not in wrestling and the pankration, in which both the successful and the unsuccessful may have the greatest merit, or may have little, and in truth may be very fortunate or very unfortunate; but the combat is for good fortune and happiness themselves. — Discourses, 3.25
However, this metaphor was probably already common in Stoicism before the time of Epictetus.
“…opposing judgment and forethought like arms and hands to the strokes of fortune and the snares of the wicked, lest in any way a hostile and sudden onslaught be made upon us when we are unprepared and unprotected.”
Stoicism as Wrestling in Panaetius
In a less well-known passage, from the Roman grammarian Aulus Gellius, we find the same analogy being attributed to Panaetius, the last head or “scholarch” of the Athenian Stoic school. The chapter in Aulus Gellius’ Attic Nights is titled:
Of an opinion of the philosopher Panaetius, which he expressed in his second book On Duties, where he urges men to be alert and prepared to guard against injuries on all occasions.
He notes that Panaetius’ On Duties had particularly influenced Cicero, generations earlier. In it, says Gellius, was to be found an “incentive to virtue”, which ought especially to be kept fixed in the mind. Almost three centuries before Marcus Aurelius, Panaetius states very clearly that the Stoic wise man must adopt a mental attitude, of constant mindfulness and vigilance, resembling the fighting stance of a pankratiast:
The life of men who pass their time in the midst of affairs, and who wish to be helpful to themselves and to others, is exposed to constant and almost daily troubles and sudden dangers. To guard against and avoid these one needs a mind that is always ready and alert, such as the athletes have who are called ‘pankratiasts.’
Panaetius continues, by describing the fighting stance of an ancient pankratiast:
For just as they, when called to the contest, stand with their arms raised and stretched out, and protect their head and face by opposing their hands as a rampart; and as all their limbs, before the battle has begun, are ready to avoid or to deal blows — so the spirit and mind of the wise man, on the watch everywhere and at all times against violence and wanton injuries, ought to be alert, ready, strongly protected, prepared in time of trouble, never flagging in attention, never relaxing its watchfulness, opposing judgment and forethought like arms and hands to the strokes of fortune and the snares of the wicked, lest in any way a hostile and sudden onslaught be made upon us when we are unprepared and unprotected.— Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights
I think these older passages from the Middle Stoa, centuries before Marcus was writing, help to provide some more context for his remarks. They give us a more complete idea of what the Stoics meant by saying that the art of living is like the art of wrestling. It means being constantly mindful, alert, and prepared in advance to meet life’s challenges. The wise man, in other words, is never to be caught off guard by the blows of fortune.
[Socrates] was so well-disciplined in his way of life that on several occasions when plague broke out in Athens he was the only man who escaped infection. — Diogenes Laertius
In 430 BC, Athens was devastated by plague. We don’t know exactly what caused it but it’s been speculated that it was a form of typhus, typhoid, or possibly smallpox. What happened during the Athenian Plague seems to foreshadow aspects of the current COVID-19 pandemic. Our own experiences probably also help us to better understand what the ancient Athenians must have been going through. I won’t labour the obvious parallels but rather I’ll just tell the story and mention some comparisons briefly along the way…
The epidemic spread throughout the Mediterranean but Athens, the largest and most cosmopolitan city in the region, was hit hardest of all. Attica, the area encompassing Athens, had a total population of roughly a quarter of a million, including thousands of foreign residents and maybe a hundred thousand slaves. The disease was apparently brought into the Greek port of Piraeus by travellers and merchants, from whence it quickly escalated into an epidemic, tearing through the population of neighbouring Athens.
After the first outbreak began to relent, the Athenians must have breathed a collective sigh of relief. Unfortunately, though, there were two further major outbreaks of the plague in Athens, occurring in 429 and 427 BC. Altogether, it killed approximately one third of the population, including Pericles himself, their most senior statesman and general. Even worse, the plague struck at the outset of the lengthy Peloponnesian War (431–404 BC), in which Athens and her allies, known as the Delian League, faced Sparta at the head of the rival Peloponnesian League.
The Spartans and their allies had just invaded Attica, the area surrounding Athens, when the plague struck the city, but it didn’t really affect the Peloponnese region, where Sparta is located. The Spartans occupied Attica for 40 days, we’re told, before departing, possibly frightened off by the plague affecting Athens. So the plague’s effect on the war was very one-sided. As we’ll see, the philosopher Socrates, was caught right in the middle of all this.
The Plague in Homer’s Iliad
To understand fifth century Athens you have to turn to the eighth century writings of Homer, which formed part of the foundation of Greek culture. Every educated Athenian knew very well that The Iliad opens with the tale of a terrible plague that afflicted the Greek army besieging Troy. Particularly from a religious perspective, this story loomed large in their minds when faced with their own plague.
Homer says that the Greek king Agamemnon seized the daughter of one of Apollo’s Trojan priests and refused to return her in exchange for a ransom. In desperation, the girl’s father prayed to Apollo, “god of the silver bow,” asking him:
If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Greeks. — The Iliad
Apollo was indeed angry and sent a plague to punish Agamemnon and the Greek army camped on the beaches of Troy.
He came down furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the ships with a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning. — The Iliad
Homer says this continued for ten days before the hero Achilles, complaining “we are being cut down by war and pestilence at once”, consulted a seer to learn why Apollo was angry, and how the Greeks could appease him. The plague was finally lifted when they dedicated a day to praying, singing hymns to the gods, and making sacrifices, and returned the captured girl to her father, the priest of Apollo.
The Iliad was as important to fifth century Athenians as The Bible is to Christians. This story comes in the very opening lines — it was extremely well-known. The Plague of Athens was therefore inevitably attributed to having angered the god Apollo, through hubris. Although this famous tale from The Iliad still loomed large in their minds, nevertheless, the Athenians soon discovered that no amount of sacrifice to the gods would offer them protection from the plague that now ravaged their home.
Thucydides
Our main source for information about the Athenian Plague is the History of the Peloponnesian War written by the Athenian general Thucydides. He echoes Homer’s words when he says of his countrymen that both “war and pestilence at once pressed heavy upon them.”
Thucydides was in an extraordinary position to provide an account as he actually contracted the plague and survived to tell the tale.
I shall simply set down its nature, and explain the symptoms by which perhaps it may be recognized by the student, if it should ever break out again. This I can the better do, as I had the disease myself, and watched its operation in the case of others. — Thucydides
He claims the disease was first reported in Africa, passing from Ethiopia into Egypt and Libya. It then crossed the Mediterranean Sea, and appeared in the port of Piraeus, before spreading to neighbouring Athens. Thucydides describes it as the worst plague anyone could recall: “a pestilence of such extent and mortality was nowhere remembered.”
The Symptoms
Thucydides says physicians could not identify the cause of the disease, in order to agree upon a diagnosis. He describes the symptoms in detail, although not always in a way that would help us retrospectively diagnose the condition. Symptoms began suddenly when people, even those in good health, were afflicted by overwhelming sensations of heat in their head, and reddening and inflammation in their eyes. The throat and tongue also typically became bloody and emitted an unusual and extremely unpleasant odour.
These initial symptoms were followed by by sneezing and hoarseness. Pain then spread to the chest, and a hard cough would develop. The illness would sometimes affect the stomach, causing upset, and “discharges of bile of every kind named by physicians ensued, accompanied by very great distress.” In most of these cases an ineffectual retching followed, accompanied by violent spasms. Sometimes this lasted only a short while, sometimes longer.
The skin would become reddish and livid, breaking out into small pustules and ulcers. However, the body was neither very hot to the touch nor pale in appearance. Internally, though, sufferers reported a burning sensation and often expressed a desire to strip naked as they could not bear clothing or even the very lightest linen to touch their skin. What they said they craved most was to throw themselves into cold water. Some of the untended, Thucydides claims, actually plunged themselves into the city’s rainwater tanks to quench their agonizing thirst. However, it made no difference how much they drank.
Moreover, those afflicted by the disease were continually tormented by an inability to sleep or even rest. The body did not actually waste away while the fever was still at its height. This meant that victims typically survived to be tortured by these and other unpleasant symptoms. When they finally succumbed, usually around the seventh or eighth day, due to internal inflammation, they still had some strength in their limbs. If they survived this stage, and the disease descended further into the bowels, it induced violent ulceration there leading to severe diarrhea, which would weaken and finally kill them.
In other words, Thucydides says, symptoms began in the head, and spread through the whole of the body. Indeed, even when the victims survived they would still be left with permanent damage to their extremities. The disease could reach the genitals, fingers and the toes, and many survived but lost these. Some also lost their sight. Some had complete amnesia at first, on recovering, and did not recognize either themselves or their friends. Thucydides also claims that birds and other animals that feed on corpses disappeared and that domestic dogs were infected by the plague and showed broadly similar symptoms to humans.
Depression
However, Thucydides claims that by far the worst symptom was the profound depression into which many sufferers were cast by discovering they had the illness, leaving them feeling helpless and without the will to fight for their lives. (Some people have reported feeling profoundly depressed after developing COVID-19 symptoms, there have been suicides, and others have experienced mental health problems simply due to the social impact of the pandemic.)
Effect of Overpopulation
At the outset of the Peloponnesian War, Pericles had withdrawn his troops behind the safety of Athens’ city walls. His strategy involved relying on Athens’ superior navy against Sparta and her allies. However, this led to the sudden migration of many families from rural Attica, seeking protection in Athens. With the city straining to accommodate the influx of refugees, and public hygiene suffering, Athens now provided a perfect breeding ground for infectious disease.
An aggravation of the existing calamity was the influx from the country into the city, and this was especially felt by the new arrivals. As there were no houses to receive them, they had to be lodged at the hot season of the year in stifling cabins, where the mortality raged without restraint. The bodies of dying men lay one upon another, and half-dead creatures reeled about the streets and gathered round all the fountains in their longing for water. — Thucydides
Many sought refuge in the temples but these ended up full of the corpses of others who had died there. (COVID-19 has spread particularly quickly through care homes, and other residences where vulnerable individuals live in close proximity to one another — it has also spread rapidly through some densely populated modern cities, such as London and NYC.)
Treatment
Thucydides tells us that physicians, at first, had no idea what to do in response to the plague and were therefore of little help to anyone. Diets and other treatments they tried had no consistent benefits. Both the strong and weak alike were struck down and died.
Religion/Superstition
Ancient Greeks typically assumed that plagues were sent as a punishment from the gods, as in The Iliad. Thucydides says that as the physicians failed to treat the initial outbreak, the people quickly turned to temples for divine guidance. This proved to be no help either. The people tried offering ritual sacrifices to the gods, he says, until “the overwhelming nature of the disaster at last put a stop to them altogether.” Sufferers crowded in temples, seeking help, along with homeless refugees from the Attic countryside, but the disease spread quickly among those living in cramped conditions, in close proximity to one another.
During wars, a catastrophe such as a plague was naturally viewed as a sign that the gods favoured the opposing side, in this case the Spartans and their Peloponnesian allies. Apollo, the god of healing, was also the god of plagues, as we’ve seen. Perhaps this had implications for Socrates’ claim that he was serving the god Apollo by pursuing the study of philosophy. The plague added greatly to the fear of angering the gods. Impiety, was of course, one of the charges that ultimately led to Socrates’ execution, albeit three decades after the plague. (During the modern pandemic conspiracy theories and pseudoscience flourish — we don’t blame the god Apollo but look for other scapegoats.)
Deaths of Carers and Physicians
As they were in frequent close contact with the infected, physicians and carers became infected themselves. The greatest number of deaths, Thucydides says, came from people who caught the disease while nursing others. Either victims perished alone, through neglect, because others were afraid to visit their homes, or those tending them risked their own lives in doing so, and many died in this way. Athenians were therefore thrown into abject despair by what Thucydides calls the “the awful spectacle of men dying like sheep”.
This had the baleful consequence that many of the best, and most honourable, citizens were the first to die. Some brave souls tried to do good and selflessly attended sick friends, “where even the members of the family were at last worn out by the moans of the dying, and succumbed to the force of the disaster.” However, they risked their own lives and were often lost as a result. Over time, though, those who had recovered from the disease themselves found that they could attend to the sick without becoming reinfected.
These knew what it was from experience, and had now no fear for themselves; for the same man was never attacked twice — never at least fatally. And such persons not only received the congratulations of others, but themselves also, in the elation of the moment, half entertained the vain hope that they were for the future safe from any disease whatsoever. — Thucydides
(Today, doctors and nurses have been particularly exposed to the novel coronavirus, and many have died while trying to administer care to others. Perhaps if some people do acquire lasting immunity, they could find themselves in a position to help sufferers.)
Multiple Outbreaks
The Athenians were relieved when the initial outbreak of the plague was over. Unfortunately, their troubles were just beginning. They had to face another two major outbreaks, the second of which claimed Pericles, their leader. (We’ve yet to see whether the coronavirus will return in waves after the initial outbreaks, although epidemiologists warn this is likely, so society should prepare in advance.)
Moral Panic / Law and Order
According to Thucydides, the impact of the plague on Athenian society led to a breakdown in law and order. We’re told that as people realized their lives were in serious peril, they began to disregard the law, and started committing more crimes. The response was a clamp-down with more draconian laws being passed to try to tighten control.
As the disaster passed all bounds, men, not knowing what was to become of them, became utterly careless of everything, whether sacred or profane. — Thucydides
Established burial rites were abandoned and bodies had to be disposed of with less care, e.g., tossed on an existing funeral pyre. Thucydides may also be alluding to the use of mass graves, one of which, a shaft containing 240 bodies, was uncovered by archaeologists in Athens in the 1990s.
Thucydides says that “Men now coolly ventured on what they had formerly done in a corner”, acting dishonourably and without regard to the future. Many suddenly came into money when the wealthy died unexpectedly. They began squandering their wealth because they felt that their own lives could end at any moment. He writes: “Fear of gods or law of man there was none to restrain them.” People became disillusioned with religion as they readily saw that others suffered and died whether or not they sacrificed to the gods. Nobody respected the law because nobody expected to live long enough to be brought to trial and punished for his offences and they were, in any case, more afraid of the plague than of the courts. So they began to live for the moment and behaved recklessly. (We’ve not seen a major breakdown of law and order yet but there are some signs that the pandemic has affected policing and the criminal justice system.)
Socrates and the Plague
During the initial outbreak of the Athenian Plague, Socrates, aged around 38, was apparently serving as a hoplite, or heavy infantryman, in the Battle of Potidaea. In 432 BC, the Athenians had sent a force to attack the rebellious city of Potidaea, a former tribute-paying ally. They ended up laying siege to its defences for about three years, one of the events that triggered the ensuing Peloponnesian War.
Once the initial outbreak of plague hit Athens, it quickly spread to the soldiers who were now two years into their their siege of Potidaea. According to Thucydides, the troops camped at Potidaea were infected with the plague by reinforcements arriving from Athens. By this time, the Athenians camped by the enemy city had been cut off from their supplies and were suffering considerable hardship as a result. Socrates, however, is remembered for his self-discipline and resilience during the siege and epidemic.
During one intense battle, the Athenian lines broke, and their troops began to scatter in retreat. Alcibiades was wounded but Socrates single-handedly rescued him, saving his comrade’s life. Plato set The Charmides the day after Socrates returned from Potidaea. It says little about the events except for mentioning Socrates’ long absence from Athens on military service and the fact that on the journey home some of his friends had been slain in skirmishes. It perhaps comes across as though Socrates doesn’t want to dwell on the experience.
In Plato’s Symposium, however, Alcibiades is portrayed describing how, when they served together during the Potidaea campaign, Socrates would enter meditative trances to the amazement of his fellow soldiers. After recounting tales of Socrates’ bravery, Alcibiades quotes from Homer’s Odyssey, comparing him to the Ithacan king, adventurer, and general Odysseus.
You should hear what else he did during that same campaign, ‘The exploit our strong-hearted hero dared to do.’ One day, at dawn, he started thinking about some problem or other; he just stood outside, trying to figure it out. He couldn’t resolve it, but he wouldn’t give up. He simply stood there, glued to the same spot. By midday, many soldiers had seen him, and, quite mystified, they told everyone that Socrates had been standing there all day, thinking about something. He was still there when evening came, and after dinner some Ionians moved their bedding outside, where it was cooler and more comfortable (all this took place in the summer), but mainly in order to watch if Socrates was going to stay out there all night. And so he did; he stood in the very same spot until dawn! He only left next morning, when the Sun came out, and he made his prayers to the new day. — Plato, The Symposium
Socrates seems to have gotten on with life relatively untroubled while serving at Potidaea, despite the fact the Athenian camp was badly affected both by the disease and by having their supplies cut off. Whereas others panicked and struggled to cope with the food shortages, he seems to have remained more composed.
Xenophon, an accomplished Athenian general and close friend of Socrates, portrays him describing how he trained himself to endure hardship and deprivation.
Don’t you think that I, who am always training myself to put up with the things that happen to my body, find everything easier to bear than you do with your neglect of training? — Memorabilia
He adds:
Which could more readily go on military service — the man who can’t live without an expensive diet, or the one who is content with whatever is to hand? And which would be sooner reduced to surrender in a siege — the one whose requirements are most difficult to obtain, or the one who is satisfied with whatever he comes across? — Memorabilia
Today, lockdown and the other social consequences of the impact are a challenge for many people who struggle to put up with the change to their lifestyle. Socrates was a minimalist, though, untroubled by deprivation.
I have always thought that to need nothing is divine, and to need as little as possible is the nearest approach to the divine; and that what is divine is best, and what is nearest to the divine is the next best. — Memorabilia
During the siege of Potidaea, when the Athenians were dying from plague and starving for food, Socrates was apparently quite content, using the time to practice meditation and contemplate philosophy.
