Stoicism Is Great, If You're Careful

If you aren’t careful, it can lead you down a slippery slope toward nihilism.

(photo from the author)

I read Ryan Holiday’s book The Obstacle is the Way not too long ago. In it, Holiday gives a brief overview of stoic philosophy, and then examines how the things in life that seem like obstacles are the very things that we actually need to guide us toward growth. If you have been reading my blogs lately, you have seen how I have been exploring this topic in various contexts: we must willingly confront the very thing that we most want to avoid if we are to be the best possible version of ourselves.

Stoicism is an ancient philosophy founded by Zeno of Citium around 330 BC, although most of his writings are lost to antiquity and we only know of them by reference from other writers. The ideas of stoic thought as they are most widely known today come from the writings of Epictetus (55-135 AD), Seneca (4 BC-65 AD), and Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD). Stoic philosophy has a number of core tenets, and we’ll explore some of the more foundational ones here, in no particular order.

One of the most fundamental principles of stoicism is the dichotomy of control. Epictetus wrote about this idea in Enchiridion: we should strive to only focus on what is within our control, and let go of all things that are outside of our control. This is the origin of The Serenity Prayer, attributed to Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971), probably made the most popular today through the 12-Step recovery community. The abridged version that most are familiar with is this: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

We have the ability to control our judgements and perceptions of things, what we choose to pursue or avoid, and how we will respond to things that happen to us. We do not have the ability to control our reactive emotions, other people’s actions or opinions, or external events (like the progression and effects of time, natural disasters, accidents, or fate). The stoic belief is that suffering comes from wasting energy on things that are outside of our control, no matter how hard we try to affect them. Contentment, peace, and fulfillment come from maximizing our productivity regarding things that are within our control.

Another core tenet of stoicism is the belief in the pursuit of virtue, through moral character and intentional behavior, as the only true measure of a good life. In contrast, things more commonly prioritized (like wealth, health, reputation, pleasure, and even life itself) are relatively worthless in comparison. Epictetus described in Enchiridion how the only thing that is truly ours is how we choose to engage with the world around us. Living rightly means working toward gaining wisdom, justice, courage, and self-discipline, rather than chasing external success. Marcus Aurelius wrote that living righteously and acting justly in the present moment, being honorable and fair in all actions, was the only way to have a happy life (Meditations). Seneca argued that “Virtue alone raises us above fate” (Letters to Lucilius).

Entwined in both ideas above is the next stoic concept, that of acceptance. Acceptance is rooted in the belief that whatever happens in life that is outside of our control is part of a larger natural order. As such, we should embrace it rather than resisting it or resenting it. Suffering comes from resistance to reality or resistance to whatever happens outside of our control. In contrast, we should instead embrace the struggles of life as necessary and good, looking for the most honorable or virtuous way to respond. Rather than resist, we should look for what can be gained or learned from the struggle, and how that can (or more likely, will) be just what we need to become better. As Marcus Aurilius wrote, “Accept whatever comes to you woven in the pattern of your destiny, for what could more aptly fit your needs?” (Meditations). This is the key theme in Holiday’s The Obstacle is the Way, referenced above. The only way out is through.

I have written before about the importance of emotions in the human experience, and the even greater importance of regulating emotional reactivity with logic and reason. Unchecked reactivity will always lead us into short-term actions that will likely only make things worse in the long run. There is a reciprocal act of creation between thoughts and emotions: unchecked emotions lead us to think a certain way, and then behave reactively; but also equally possible, the way that we think about a thing creates our emotional experience of that thing.

The idea that rational thinking can (or even should) regulate emotional reactivity has its origins in ancient stoic philosophy. But its more present day application is known as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), the foundational principle of which is that our thoughts create our emotional experience. This is also borne out in modern brain science on perception. As I’ve written about before, we see the world through a narrative that is already in place. The narrative that we have about a thing literally determines how we see or interpret the thing.

Epictetus wrote, “Men are disturbed not by things, but by the view which they take of them” (Enchiridion). Marcus Aurelius echoed the same sentiment when he wrote, “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength” (Meditations). 

Seneca added, “The greatest remedy for anger is delay,” (On Anger), which is an idea that I call “the pause,” and something that I talk a lot about with clients. It is important to take some time between the stimulus and how you engage with it to allow for emotional calm, reflection, and intention in choosing how to respond. Then, and only then, should you act. Emotions are important, and should not be ignored or suppressed. But they should not control our choices or behaviors. The goal is rather to understand the emotions and where they come from, question their trustworthiness and any urges that arise from them, and then act intentionally. This ensures that the emotions do not control our actions.

While I find a lot of value in stoic philosophy, and work hard to practice it myself, what occurred to me this week is that stoicism that is not well-grounded, combined with some negative event that isn’t handled well, could lead to a (hopefully temporary) struggle with nihilism. Nihilism is the idea that there is no inherent meaning, morality, or purpose in existence. Included in this are the ideas that there are no objective moral truths, nor is there any absolute knowledge. Nihilism can lead to apathy and depression, isolation and meaninglessness, and even total moral collapse.

Misunderstanding the importance of focusing on what we can control and letting go of what we can’t can lead us to abdicate control over things that are actually ours to own. The result would be the loss of a sense of agency, then passivity, and even fatalism: “If it’s all out of my control, and nothing I do matters anyway, then why even try?” What’s important to understand here is that the dichotomy of control isn’t an excuse for inaction, but rather a reminder to focus your energy on what you can actually impact. Accepting realistic limitations encourages better decision-making. It’s not about feeling resigned to helplessness and meaninglessness.

The pursuit of virtue as the only truly good thing in life could easily be misunderstood to encourage detachment from human relationships, indifference to personal goals or ambitions, or even the idea that wealth is wrong or somehow evil. Paradoxically, someone struggling in this way with their own problems can become indifferent to others’ pain. It is important to remember that the pursuit of virtue is not a solitary one. Virtue occurs in relationship to others, including a moral responsibility to one’s society at large.

Blind or all-encompassing acceptance can go badly, very much like the control dichotomy. Even worse, misunderstanding acceptance can lead someone to passively allow injustice, suffering, or oppression instead of resisting them. That’s the very opposite of living with virtue, as explained above. It’s important to remember that acceptance is not passivity. Acceptance is not helpless surrender, and using the excuse that things “just are what they are.” Rather, the idea is to respond wisely to reality, having the greatest intentional impact that you can on the things that you can, then acknowledging and even embracing real limitations as potential agents for insight and growth, and not wasting your energy where it cannot have any impact.

Finally, the idea of having our thoughts guide our emotions has a couple of potential problems in an unsophisticated application. First of all, it can easily lead to complete emotional detachment and loss of connection, especially in the face of hardship. Emotional numbness limits our ability to feel joy, awe, and human connection. It also keeps us stuck. Second, we must monitor our thoughts carefully to ensure that they are not leading us wrongly. I wrote about intuition several weeks ago. If your thoughts are not monitored carefully, and tested thoroughly, they will create emotional reactions that guide your behavior in ways that are probably hurtful to you. It’s important to remember that stoicism is not about feeling nothing, but about feeling wisely, guided by critical thinking.

Stoicism is a powerful philosophy for how to live life well, with ancient origins, whose ideas have stood the test of time. Appreciating historical wisdom will always be better than unsophisticated chronological snobbery. But it’s important to be grounded in the stoic principles and understand them well, or there is a risk of sliding into nihilism when life’s inevitable struggles come to find you. Rightly understood and practiced, stoicism fosters resilience and full engagement with life. Misunderstood, it can lead to detachment, passivity, and ultimately, a nihilistic collapse. The complexities and struggles inherent in the human experience give us a chance to do either. The challenge is to find strength without surrendering meaning.