Donald J. Robertson

I would view them as quite different techniques, to be honest. I actually think it’s quite important to be clear what the underlying mechanism is in different psychological practices. In CBT we tend to place a lot of emphasis on that because clients usually gain more benefit from an exercise when they’re clear about the purpose and how it works — that often requires carefully distinguishing techniques that might appear superficially similar. Of course, sometimes a technique may be effective for several different reasons. Nevertheless, I believe it’s in our interests to try to clarify what the mechanism is that we’re aiming to employ.

As far as I’m aware the Stoics don’t describe anything resembling Negative Practice.

In short, that’s why the article says “Of course, if you’re suffering from a severe problem you should seek assessment and treatment from a qualified professional.” If someone has an eating disorder, for instance, they should receive treatment from a qualified professional who specializes in that problem. This technique probably isn’t suited for them but it might be helpful in a handful of cases. It would have to be done at the discretion of a therapist who specializes in this area and under their supervision.

You mean OCD? I wouldn’t recommend this approach normally for OCD. It’s possible that it might be of value in some cases but that should be at the discretion of a therapist who specializes in treating that condition, and with their consent and supervision.

The Paradox of Negative Practice in Behaviour Change

The Paradox of Negative Practice in Behaviour Change

If the fool would persist in his folly, he would become wise. — William Blake, Proverbs of Hell

Most people who want to eliminate their bad habits try to do so by directly suppressing them — just forcing themselves to stop. Often they find that simply doesn’t work. In his novel Women in Love, D.H. Lawrence gives a truly remarkable description of the opposite technique:

“A very great doctor taught me”, [Hermione] said, addressing Ursula and Gerald vaguely. “He told me for instance, that to cure oneself of a bad habit, one should force oneself to do it, when one would not do it — make oneself do it — and then the habit would disappear.”

“How do you mean?” said Gerald.

“If you bite your nails, for example. Then, when you don’t want to bite your nails, bite them, make yourself bite them. And you would find the habit was broken.”

“Is that so?” said Gerald.

“Yes. And in so many things, I have made myself well. I was a very queer and nervous girl. And by learning to use my will, simply by using my will, I made myself right.” — Women in Love, 1920

A similar method for breaking bad habits was developed in the 1920s by Knight Dunlap, Professor of Experimental Psychology at Johns Hopkins University and president of the American Psychological Association (APA). Dunlap’s method, known as “negative practice”, was described in his all but forgotten Habits: Their Making and Unmaking (1932). Dunlap was, without question, a man far ahead of his time in the field of psychotherapy, whose ideas in some ways anticipated modern cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT).

The Beta Hypothesis: Intention Matters

We normally assume, of course, that “practice makes perfect” and that repeating a habit makes it stronger. We can call that the “alpha hypothesis” (hypothesis a) concerning habits. Dunlap contrasted that with his “beta hypothesis” (hypothesis b), which says that under certain conditions voluntarily engaging in your habit can have the paradoxical effect of making it weaker, perhaps even eliminating it completely.

Dunlap’s hypothesis was that your attitude is key. “In negative practice”, he wrote, “the determining factors are the thoughts and desires in the practice.” If you’re repeatedly performing some action with the intention of making it a habit then, with practice, you may well succeed. However, if your intention is to weaken an existing habit that’s what tends to happen.

Dunlap’s favorite example comes from a method he noticed being used to train typists:

The non-professional typist and the learner frequently make persistent errors, such as the transposition of the into hte, and these errors are ordinarily eliminated with difficulty. It has been found, however, that even a small amount of practice in writing the word in the wrong way will eliminate the error. –- Dunlap, 1932: 95–96

A small study by Holsopple and Vanouse (1929) tested the beta hypothesis with eleven shorthand students. They were asked to employ normal (“positive”) practice to counteract one set of errors, and negative practice to deal with another set. Negative practice was found considerably more effective with this group. In fact, all eleven students appeared to benefit, with errors for negatively practiced words being reduced to zero while mistakes were still being made with the positively practiced words about thirty percent of the time.

A few years later, two researchers published an article summarizing the findings of several additional experiments, from which they concluded:

These and other considerations arising from a more detailed analysis of the data tend strongly to support Dunlap’s beta hypothesis of negative practice. — Kellogg & White, 1935

The main recommendation emerging from early research reviews was that negative practice tends to work better when “massed” rather than “distributed”, i.e., when the behavior to be eliminated is practiced lots of times in rapid succession during each practice session.

How to do Negative Practice

In a nutshell, Dunlap’s method involved asking subjects with stutters, tics, and other unwanted habits to voluntarily engage in the behavior over and over again with little or no delay between repetitions. Most importantly, though, they were to bear in mind their goal of breaking the habit. For example, before each negative practice session, clients wishing to overcome a stammer would say to themselves:

“I am going to stammer; I am going to perfect my stammering (i.e., make it as near as possible like my usual stammering). I am to do this now, when I want to, because so doing will make it possible later for me not to stammer when I don’t want to. The better I stammer now, the sooner I will break the habit of stammering.” — Dunlap, 1932: 205

Dunlap found that behavior could be changed in this way, though it sometimes required as much as two fifteen-minute sessions of daily practice for 3–4 weeks.

Negative practice is so-called because it involves practicing a habit you want to unlearn or negate. Later authors refer to a variety of similar techniques as “paradoxical” therapy — the paradox being that you’re instructed to do more of something you want to stop doing. It’s also sometimes referred to as “symptom prescription”.

The behavioral psychologist Clark Hull argued that negative practice might work through a neurological process he called “reactive inhibition”. According to this theory when some piece of behavior is repeated many times in rapid succession your nervous system automatically begins to react by weakening and inhibiting the habit regardless of your intentions.

Other behaviorists observed that intensive sessions of negative practice can also lead to feelings of fatigue, self-consciousness, awkwardness or aversion, which might actually be helpful if they inhibit the unwanted habit. Although there are differing opinions about exactly how the technique works they’re not mutually exclusive — several of these things might be happening at once.

More Examples of Negative Practice

The pioneering behavior therapist Andrew Salter adopted Dunlap’s negative practice technique in the 1940s, and gave this brief case-study of blushing as an example:

I explained to Mr. T. that the human nervous system had, as it were, a logical battery and an emotional battery. Both were connected by wires to different parts of the body. “Your emotional battery, through what is called the autonomic nervous system, sends messages unconsciously to the blood vessels in your face, making you blush. Now, if we can use some power from the logic department instead, you will develop a deliberate hold on the blood vessels, and overcome the unconscious blush signals. The logical department of the brain will tell your face, “You won’t have to blush.” So I want you to deliberately practice blushing. Tell yourself to blush at all times: when you’re alone, and when you’re with people. Get practice in sending logical electricity to your face instead of emotional electricity, and that will put logic in charge of blushing. When you control it, that will be the end of it.” I emphasized that he must practice this vigorously, and it was my impression that he would. When I saw him a week later, he was a bit perplexed. “You know,” he said, “I find that I can’t blush whether I want to or not. It’s the darndest thing.” — Salter, 1949: 64–65

Salter also provides a further example of the technique in which he prescribed that a pretty young lady who had a flatulence problem should, “practice the deliberate breaking of wind at all times.”

The existential psychotherapist Victor Frankl, author of the bestselling Man’s Search for Meaning (1946), likewise developed a technique he called “paradoxical intention”, which appears very similar to Dunlap’s negative practice.

It consists not only of a reversal of the patient’s attitude toward his phobia inasmuch as the usual avoidance response is replaced by an intentional effort — but also that it is carried out in as humorous a setting as possible. — Psychotherapy & Existentialism, 1967

Elsewhere Frankl provides a brief case study concerning a young doctor who had developed a phobia about sweating. One day, meeting his boss on the street, as he extended his hand in greeting, he noticed that he was sweating more than usual. Each time he then found himself in a similar situation he grew nervous, expecting that he would sweat profusely.

It was a vicious circle… We advised our patient, in the event that his anticipatory anxiety should recur, to resolve deliberately to show the people whom he confronted at the time just how much he could really sweat. A week later he returned to report that whenever he met anyone who triggered his anxiety, he said to himself, “I only sweated out a litre before, but now I’m going to pour out at least ten litres!” What was the result of this paradoxical resolution? After suffering from his phobia for four years, he was quickly able, after only one session, to free himself of it for good. — Psychotherapy & Existentialism, 1967, p 139

Although Frankl emphasized that humor was an important part of symptom prescription, researchers employing similar techniques haven’t always found this necessary.

Dunlap used negative practice as his main approach for a wide variety of problems, including behavioral habits like nail-biting, mental habits like worrying, and emotional habits like becoming angry with people. Over the years similar paradoxical techniques have been used to address an even wider range of problems. The treatment of insomnia is perhaps one of the most common uses of symptom prescription in behavior therapy. Paradoxically, clients often find that being told to “try to stay awake as long as possible” tends to make them fall asleep sooner.

Another technique that’s become increasingly common in modern cognitive-behavioral therapy involves the prescription of deliberate “worry time”. A client who feels immersed in their worries is advised to set aside, e.g., half an hour each day to sit in a specific chair and worry voluntarily. Worrying is postponed until then when they can focus more attention on the process. Of course, nobody “worries” deliberately, worries creep into our mind when not wanted. When we set about thinking our worries through deliberately they often seem ridiculous or trivial and the effort can become tedious after a while. This feeling of fatigue or boredom while engaged in the negative practice is perhaps useful, as mentioned earlier. It may actually contribute to the inhibition of the habit.

The English psychologist Edward B. Titchener was reputedly the first to observe, at the start of the 20th century, that when a word or short phrase is repeated aloud very rapidly for a period of time the speaker typically begins to experience it as meaningless gibberish. Recently this has become a common technique in a state-of-the-art form of cognitive-behavioral therapy known as Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). For instance, suppose that you’re troubled by a distressing thought such “Everyone hates me!” Repeating that sentence aloud, as fast as you can, for at least a minute, will feel surprisingly difficult. Research shows that in about 90% of cases people who do this report that the phrase feels more empty or meaningless as a result, which can greatly diminish the thought’s ability to cause distress.

Conclusion: Some Practical Tips

Here are some more practical tips derived from the clinical and research literature on negative practice:

1. You should have a moderate desire to eliminate the behavior you’re practicing and focus throughout the practice on the idea that you’re repeating the habit in order to rid yourself of it.

2. It often helps to bear in mind examples of how negative practice has been found effective in removing undesired habits such as in the training of typists.

3. You’ll need to address any underlying motives for clinging on to the habit, e.g., biting your fingernails as a way of distracting yourself from social anxiety.

4. You may need to have a new way of responding once the habit is gone, e.g., if you eliminate the habit of mispronouncing a word you’ll need to know the correct pronunciation to replace it.

5. It’s important to reproduce the habit that you’re trying to eliminate as accurately as possible and to repeat it for long enough that it starts to feel quite awkward or tedious.

It can also be useful to spot the bad habit whenever it happens spontaneously and straight away repeat it over and over again, voluntarily, as a form of negative practice. Of course, if you’re suffering from a severe problem you should seek assessment and treatment from a qualified professional. However, many everyday bad habits can be broken by using a variation of this simple technique. People often find it tremendously liberating to discover, after years of trying to force themselves to stop a bad habit, that an easier and more effective solution may be to actually do the very thing they’ve been trying so hard to avoid. As Blake also said, “The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.”

I don’t think we can assume Marcus was “puny”. As a young man, he boxed and wrestled, hunted wild boar, and was trained to fight in heavy…

I didn’t choose the title, it was picked by the editors.

I don’t think we can assume Marcus was “puny”. As a young man, he boxed and wrestled, hunted wild boar, and was trained to fight in heavy armour, possibly by gladiators at Rome. He loved horse riding and was the leader of a troupe of dancers called the Salii or leaping priests who performed elaborate chants and dances, dressed in archaic armour, to celebrate Mars, the god of war. He was particularly skilled at playing an ancient ball game, probably vaguely resembling modern rugby. We’re told he became less active as he grew older, and his health suffered, but I wouldn’t assume he was of puny stature — we’re not told that anywhere in the histories. Cassius Dio says that although he could no longer achieve feats of physical prowess, in old age, despite chronic illness, he still showed great physical and mental endurance.

Why wouldn’t you take advice from someone just because they’re an emperor? Why would their social status be more important than their intelligence or wisdom? The Stoics taught that we should judge people based on their character, not their position in life, and listen to them on that basis neither writing them off nor treating them as authority figures for arbitrary reasons. Also, you’ve got the poem you mention by Kipling back to front — it’s actually considered by most readers to be more obviously inspired by Stoicism (capital S), the Greek philosophy, not the modern concept of “stoicism” the stiff upper lip coping style. (Kipling had a horse named after Marcus Aurelius, incidentally.)

Socrates and the Stoics didn’t find their goal in toughness alone — that’s the opposite of what the article actually says. They thought…

Wait. None of this is in the article and I’d have to disagree with most of it. :/

1. Socrates and the Stoics didn’t find their goal in toughness alone — that’s the opposite of what the article actually says. They thought aspects of Spartan discipline were worth learning insofar as they could contribute to wisdom and virtue, the true goals of life.

2. Perhaps but, as I said, Socrates and the Stoics didn’t suggest emulating the Spartan political state as a whole.

3. See above.

4. Who ever said that the Spartans only ate “grains and a few nibbles of vegetables” and no protein? In the article, I mentioned that their main staple was the notorious black broth, made from meat and blood — loads of protein. They also appear to have eaten a variety of other foods, though, as you’d expect.

Did you not notice the passage in the article where it explicitly states the following caveat?

Now, ancient Sparta was, for the most part, a notoriously brutal regime. The severe training (agoge) they put their young sons through was intended to build courage and self-discipline in preparation for military service. However, I suspect what philosophers from at least the time of Socrates onward intended was to argue that certain aspects of the Spartan training could be adapted for use in a philosopher’s way of life, in the service of developing a character shaped by wisdom, justice, and virtue in general.

Maxims from Ancient Sparta Still Relevant Today

Maxims from Ancient Sparta Still Relevant Today

Since the Battle of Thermopylae, two and a half thousand years ago, the image of the Spartan in his scarlet cloak or chlamys has become emblematic of an ancient warrior ethos.

The Spartans had their critics and enemies, of course. Nevertheless, many thinkers throughout the centuries have been drawn to the notion that we could learn something important from their legendary self-discipline and code of honor. Today, books like Gates of Fire, movies like 300, and events like Spartan Race, help to keep alive this fascination with the Spartan ideal.

Earth! render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred grant but three,
To make a new Thermopylae! — Lord Byron

The Greek philosopher Plutarch is one of our main sources for Spartan sayings. Here are some of the key maxims he tells us about.

Character and Virtue

For the ancient Spartans, character, honor, and virtue, were paramount. They didn’t trust philosophers or intellectuals, believing that wisdom should be displayed through your actions, and the way you live your life. According to legend, the 9th century BC lawgiver Lycurgus reformed Spartan society based on the values of equality among citizens, military fitness, and austerity. He instigated a brutal training regime called the agoge, designed to instill unrivalled courage and self-discipline and shape the characters of Spartan youths.

Spartans also judged other people based on their character. For instance, King Agis was once advised to take his soldiers and march against the citadel of another country, guided by one of its inhabitants. He refused, saying, “How can I entrust the lives of so many youths to a man who is betraying his own country?” In a similar vein, the Spartan king Agasicles once turned away a very learned teacher saying “I want to be a pupil of those whose son I should like to be as well.” The Spartans, in other words, placed more value on finding role models than attending lectures, in order to educate yourself and strengthen your character.

Spartan Courage

The Spartans were, of course, particularly renowned, and feared, for their military courage. King Agis used to say that Spartans do not ask “How many are the enemy?” but “Where are they?” When someone asked how one could remain free throughout their life, he said, “By being unafraid of death.”

When King Anaxandridas was asked why Spartans marched toward danger so boldly he said it was because they trained their youths to care about life but not, like others, to be afraid of dying. Courage, particularly in the face of death, was the foundation stone of Spartan culture.

Self-Discipline

Self-mastery was therefore integral to ancient Spartan culture. The Spartan king Agis, asked what sort of education was most popular in Sparta, famously replied “Knowledge of how to rule and be ruled.” That requires Spartan discipline. For example, when someone observed that the Spartan king Alcamenes led a very simple and austere life he said “Yes, because it is noble for a man who possesses much to live according to reason rather than according to his desires.”

Spartan self-discipline also meant knowing how to control your speech, and hold your tongue where appropriate. The Spartans were notoriously laconic, a word which comes from Laconia, the name of the region in which the city of Sparta is located. They used words very sparingly, especially compared with other Greeks. For instance, after giving a long-winded speech, an ambassador asked what he should report back to his country. King Agis said “Tell them only that whereas you couldn’t stop talking, I listened patiently in silence.” By contrast, a famous orator was criticized for sitting at King Archidamidas’ table without uttering a word. However, the Spartan ruler said that an expert who knows how to speak should also know when to remain silent.

Once, someone rudely asked the Spartan Demaratus whether he was quiet because he was so foolish he didn’t have anything worth saying. He replied that, in fact, a fool would be someone unable to remain silent. When another ambassador gave an long drawn-out speech to the Spartan king Cleomenes he said “What you said at the beginning I don’t remember, so I did not understand what you said in the middle, and therefore I cannot agree with your conclusion.” The Spartans were men of few words.

Justice and Fairness

Although Spartan justice often seems brutal by modern standards they did adhere to a strong set of principles concerning fairness. Seeing, for instance, that the runners at Olympia were eager to gain an advantage in starting, King Leo said, “How much more eager these runners are for a quick start than for fair play!” For Spartans, there was no honour in a victory gained by cheating.

Finally, although this certainly wasn’t a view shared by all Spartans, we’re told that when someone brought up the old maxim that a ruler should “Help his friends and harm his enemies”, king Ariston replied that it is surely much better not only to do good to our friends but also to make friends of our enemies. As Plutarch observes, this is also what the philosopher Socrates was known for teaching. Although Spartan society was often very harsh, in other words, it could also find opportunities, sometimes, for virtues like generosity and benevolence.

If you enjoyed this article you might also be interested in the interview I recently did with The Art of Manliness podcast about Stoic philosophy and my latest book How to Think Like a Roman Emperor.

Sporting Metaphors in Ancient Stoic Philosophy

Sporting Metaphors in Ancient Stoic Philosophy

There are several recurring metaphors, which the ancient Stoics used to describe their philosophy. One of the most intriguing is that life is like a ball game — or some other game or sport — wisdom and virtue are like “being a good sport”, or being sportsmanlike and playing the game well.

It was the norm for ancient Greek and Roman youths to take part in a variety of sports such as wrestling and ball games. For instance, we’re told of the young Marcus Aurelius:

He was also fond of boxing and wrestling and running and fowling, played ball very skilfully, and hunted well. — Historia Augusta

So it’s not surprising that we find many allusions to such activities in the writings of philosophers. We’re told that Chrysippus, the third head of the Stoic school, was a long distance runner and that he left the Stoa Poikile where his predecessor Cleanthes taught in order to set up his own school in a nearby sports ground called the Lyceum. The Greeks called these areas gymnasia but unlike modern gymnasia they consisted of parks which had pathways for strolling among the trees and by streams, as well as running tracks, wrestling schools, bath houses, and other buildings.

People would gather there to talk, including the Sophists, who lectured and read speeches in public there. Socrates would also go to the Lyceum to socialize and discuss philosophy. A couple of generations later, Aristotle opened his famous philosophical school in a building there, which became known by the same name. Aristotle’s students were also called Peripatetics because they strolled around the pleasant grounds of the park while discussing philosophy. About a century after Aristotle, Chrysippus also gave open air lectures at the Lyceum, presumably walking past many youths playing sports and exercising.

Indeed, Seneca tells us that it was Chrysippus who introduced the metaphor of the ball game to Stoicism, as an analogy for life in general. The Greeks and Romans played a violent team game called harpastum that involved passing and catching a ball, keeping the opposing team from snatching it, even using some wrestling holds. We don’t know exactly how it was played, but it was perhaps like a distant forerunner of rugby.

Seneca explains that Stoics understand helping or benefiting others by means of this sporting analogy:

I wish to use Chrysippus’ simile of the game of ball, in which the ball must certainly fall by the fault either of the thrower or of the catcher; it only holds its course when it passes between the hands of two persons who each throw it and catch it suitably. It is necessary, however, for a good player to send the ball in one way to a comrade at a long distance, and in another to one at a short distance. — Seneca, On Benefits, 17

A benefit has to be given properly, as it were, and also received properly, just as passing the ball requires one person to throw and another to catch. When attempting to help another person, therefore, according to Seneca we must take into account their ability to receive benefit from us.

If we have to do with a practised and skilled player, we shall throw the ball more recklessly, for however it may come, that quick and agile hand will send it back again; if we are playing with an unskilled novice, we shall not throw it so hard, but far more gently, guiding it straight into his very hands, and we shall run to meet it when it returns to us. — Seneca, On Benefits, 17

Seneca returns to this analogy later:

“A man,” it is argued, “who has received a benefit, however gratefully he may have received it, has not yet accomplished all his duty, for there remains the part of repayment; just as in playing at ball it is something to catch the ball cleverly and carefully, but a man is not called a good player unless he can handily and quickly send back the ball which he has caught.” — Seneca, On Benefits, 32

However, unlike in the ball game, Seneca says that the wise man does not expect to the favours that he bestows on others to be reciprocated.

Epictetus on Life as a Ball Game

Seneca’s use of the ball game analogy is interesting, as is the fact he attributes it to Chrysippus. However, Epictetus provides an even more compelling account of the same metaphor. In one of his famous discourses, he uses the ball game to explain how Stoics reconcile emotional detachment with desire, or as he puts it “how magnanimity is consistent with care” (Discourses, 2.5). Epictetus introduces the topic by saying very clearly that although external things are themselves “indifferent”, neither good nor bad, the use we make of them is not — we may use things well or badly, wisely or foolishly, and so on. How can we remain free from emotional disturbance, he asks, while concerning ourselves with external things, such as wealth or reputation?

We can do say, he says, by viewing life as we do a game of dice. The dice are indifferent to us — something trivial and unimportant. I can’t even predict what numbers I’ll roll. My business, in the game, is merely to roll them well and use the numbers that come up. Today we would say that, as in a card game, we must use whatever hand fate deals us, to the best of our ability.

Epictetus says that the chief thing in life is to distinguish carefully between things that are up to us and things that are not. Our own voluntary actions are within our power, he says. We should therefore look for what is good or bad there, in our own conduct, placing more importance on that than upon external events that happen to befall us. What is not up to us, we should call neither good nor bad, beneficial or harmful, etc.

The Stoic Ball Game

That’s the essence of Stoic philosophy according to Epictetus and he proceeds to illustrate it with the ball game metaphor, which was apparently introduced to Stoicism three centuries earlier by Chrysippus. Epictetus goes so far as to say that what the Stoic school teaches us about life in general is precisely what anyone does when playing a ball game skilfully.

Nobody playing ball really cares about the ball itself, he says. They try their utmost to seize the ball from the opposing team but they don’t actually think it’s something intrinsically good. They pass it to other team members skilfully but they don’t think the ball is intrinsically bad. It’s just a ball, neither good nor bad. The art of the game consists in throwing and catching the ball quickly, skillfully, and with good judgment. However, if a player was to become overly-attached to the ball so that he didn’t want to pass it to others, or too anxious to catch it and hold on to it then he’d play the game badly. Because he’s not playing his role properly, the other players would start yelling at him to pass the ball instead of hanging on to it and to catch it when they’re trying to throw it to him. “This is quarreling,” says Epictetus, “not play.”

Epictetus immediately follows this analogy by saying “Socrates therefore knew how to play ball.” When he was standing trial and facing execution he continued to play the game of life fearlessly. He cross-examined his accusers philosophically, “as if he were playing ball.”

Life, chains, banishment, a draught of poison, separation from wife and leaving children orphans. These were the things with which he was playing; but still he did play and threw the ball skilfully. — Epictetus, Discourses, 2.5

We should approach life with as much care as the players in the ball game but also with as much indifference toward the ball, as a thing in itself. By all means, we should exert ourselves over events but more to exercise our wisdom and the art of living than to achieve some external outcome, such as winning the game.

We depend upon other people, and other factors, for food and a roof over our heads, and these things can always be taken away from us, even our own physical health isn’t entirely under our control. However, the Stoics say that as long as we have the material we should work on it as best we can. Win or lose, others, if they have insight and wisdom, may be able to look at you and tell whether you’re the sort of person who is playing the game of life well or badly. Even though you may suffer great misfortune externally, if you handle it well others, if they have any sense, will admire your sportsmanship in the face of adversity. For example, the Roman senator, Cassius Dio, wrote of Marcus Aurelius:

[Marcus Aurelius] did not meet with the good fortune that he deserved, for he was not strong in body and was involved in a multitude of troubles throughout practically his entire reign. But for my part, I admire him all the more for this very reason, that amid unusual and extraordinary difficulties he both survived himself and preserved the empire. — Cassius Dio, Historia Romana