Stoicism, since Hegel famously dismissed it as a philosophy of slavery, has suffered from misinterpretation. Ask many about Stoicism, and if they even differentiate it from Epicureanism or Cynicism, you’ll likely hear clichés: renounce pleasure, detach from the world, accept whatever comes your way. This fate isn’t unique to Stoicism; many philosophical schools have been reduced to simplistic caricatures over time, as if only fools, not philosophers, adhered to them. However, every philosophical school that has left its mark on history surely had something valuable to say to earn its place in the halls of philosophy, not the dustbin of history. This holds true even for the decentralized Sophists, let alone schools like Stoicism, which once attracted thousands of students from across vast civilizations. Therefore, if a philosophy with such widespread appeal is reduced to a few points deemed “obviously” false or ineffective, our simplification is likely flawed, and a closer examination is warranted.
William Irvine’s book precisely aims to achieve this and more: firstly, by revisiting primary texts from the greatest Stoic philosophers, it demonstrates Stoicism’s depth and effectiveness beyond common misconceptions. Secondly, by proposing minor adjustments and revisions to these philosophers’ ideas, it suggests a contemporary Stoicism that can be pursued as a “practical philosophy” or “philosophy of life.” Consequently, the book focuses on practical philosophy, specifically Stoic philosophy of life, which should be your expectation when approaching it.
The book is structured into four parts and 22 chapters, beginning with the relationship between philosophy and life in ancient Greece and tracing the origins and spread of Stoicism. The second part delves into Stoic strategies for achieving tranquility, aptly described as “psychological” techniques. The third part examines situations where Stoicism proves effective: fulfilling duties, social relationships, dealing with insults, facing grief and mourning, sudden misfortune, controlling the desire for fame and wealth, exile and captivity, aging, and death. Finally, the fourth part explores the possibility of revisiting and reviving Stoicism in the modern world, though it doesn’t introduce significantly new ideas beyond the updated interpretations used to justify the Stoic viewpoint in the previous sections.
Stoicism According to Irvine
Approaching this book with the aforementioned expectations, you’ll realize it operates on a practical premise and practical axioms.
Premise: Our ultimate goal in life is tranquility. Tranquility surpasses all other values in life.
Axioms: To achieve tranquility, one must…
- Negative Visualization: Always consider events worse than your current situation (regardless of whether you enjoy your present circumstances).
- Dichotomy of Control: Focus solely on events within your control.
- Internalize Values: Find value within yourself, not in externals.
- Embrace Voluntary Discomfort: Welcome hardship and challenges.
This combination of four principles, all revolving around the core objective of Stoicism, in my view, provides a potent framework for achieving that goal: tranquility. Condensing the book’s well-crafted content into simplistic clichés is a disservice. Consider the Stoic advice: “One of the best ways to control desire is to appreciate and enjoy what we have.” This directly contradicts our stereotypical view of Stoic aversion to pleasure, yet it perfectly aligns with the Stoic aim: minimizing desires is the best way to prevent suffering from not fulfilling them. This advice, combining principles 1 and 2, illustrates how to enjoy your wealth, spouse, friends, and even knowledge without fixating on what you lack or what others possess. Clichéd? Perhaps, but there are nuances here. Think of the best movie or novel that moved or impacted you. Now try to summarize it in a sentence or two. It becomes bland and diluted! The beauty of narratives that transform our lives lies in their details, context, and even poetics. The same cliché, when elaborated in Stoic philosophical texts, becomes captivating and engaging. I’m referring not only to Roman Stoic philosophers but also to works like Irvine’s and other contemporary Stoic philosophers. The “impact” of a philosophy for life is conveyed through encountering these “detailed” texts. Fast-food summaries from pulpits offer little of substance. As we’ve experienced, fast-food Islamic ethics from pulpits haven’t yielded compelling results either.
Critique of Stoicism According to Irvine
I deliberately mentioned Islamic ethics to center the critique of Stoicism (as portrayed, sometimes strangely, by Irvine). Firstly, based on my limited knowledge of formalized Islamic ethics (acquaintance with works by figures like Sayyid Shubbar, Naraqi, and Motahhari) and my religious upbringing, I found Stoic ethics remarkably similar to Islamic ethics, both in general principles and practical strategies. Many Islamic ethical and even religious precepts (like restraint, fasting, self-reflection and mindfulness, etiquette in friendship and social interactions, remembrance of death, contemplation on aging, etc.) can be interpreted through a Stoic philosophical lens (regardless of their monotheistic content). These similarities are extensive, so I won’t detail them. However, subtle and significant differences exist between Irvine’s presentation of Stoicism and our understanding of traditional Islamic ethics. Given my rudimentary understanding that Islamic ethics theories heavily borrow from Aristotelian and Stoic ethics (if we consider figures like Khwaja Nasir al-Din al-Tusi, Ibn Miskawayh, or even Ghazali as leaders of Islamic ethics theories), the evolution of Stoicism into Islamic ethics is intriguing. I will briefly highlight a few of these differences:
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Negative Visualization and “Su’ al-ẓann” (Bad Suspicion): Irvine argues that in Stoicism, “thinking about misfortune not only doesn’t make one sad but, by preventing habituation, actually enhances the enjoyment of the world around us.” This contemplation of misfortune, as mentioned in the four principles, is a general rule. Irvine’s example is well-known: contemplating the death of a spouse or child enhances the enjoyment of moments spent with them. However, this principle is not universally accepted in Islam. In Islamic ethics, dwelling on certain misfortunes is considered “su’ al-ẓann” (bad suspicion), some forms of which are sinful (Quran, Surah Hujurat, verse 12). Consider another example besides the death of a spouse: spousal infidelity. Can contemplating this misfortune also enhance our tranquility? Our intuition suggests that thinking about bad events cannot be accepted as a universal principle. Perhaps it’s acceptable if the misfortune is a non-agentive loss like death or illness (a loss not caused by conscious human agency). However, dwelling on others’ misconduct or ill intentions can harm our tranquility. Much can be pondered about this principle, but for now, suffice it to say that habituation diminishes not only the novelty of pleasure but also the novelty of pain. Thus, contemplating misfortune to break habituation might not only refresh pleasure but also refresh pain – not just the pain of actual events but also the pain of reviving suppressed illusions and fantasies, like spousal or friend betrayal. This is the flip side that Irvine’s portrayal of Stoicism somewhat overlooks.
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The Value of “The Other”: In Irvine’s interpretation of Stoicism, especially through Marcus Aurelius’s views, others hold little value. One consolation in facing death is “leaving this world and getting rid of all these bothersome people.” In Irvine’s overall depiction, others are a nuisance: constantly envious, mocking, or insulting. Although Irvine shows that Marcus Aurelius still strived to serve and love his fellow humans, ultimately, this love stemmed from his own high standing; he selflessly fulfilled his social duty, which was “far more valuable and better than others’ appreciation, admiration, or empathy.” This also largely contradicts Islamic ethics teachings, and in this instance, I lean towards the Islamic perspective. In Islamic ethics, serving others is important not only for their sake but also because one should consider oneself lower than them (though unfortunately, in some versions of Islamic ethics, “others” are limited to fellow believers). The story of Ayaz in Rumi’s Masnavi and the tale of Moses and the sick dog (where Moses even considers himself lower than a dog before God) and various hadiths from Shia Imams emphasizing that a believer should see themselves as God’s lowest servant exemplify this. In these narratives, humility and self-deprecation are not merely psychological tactics; serving others becomes serving the Creator. What matters to me in this judgment is that the Stoic version devalues “the other,” while the Islamic version elevates them (though, to be fair, some interpretations reduce “the other” to the Muslim other). This point will become clearer in the third point.
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Responding to Insults: Irvine tests Stoicism in various situations, including facing insults, a deeply philosophical matter. However, the advice he extracts from Seneca and Marcus Aurelius is peculiar. Their approach to dealing with insults is a kind of mental reciprocal insult! Irvine doesn’t explicitly say this, and sometimes even suggests the opposite, but the outcome of his approach is practically the same: “When we look at insult-givers, we see them as overgrown children… The more experienced we become in living Stoically, the more indifferent we become to others’ opinions of us… Insults from others are like a dog barking to a Stoic (!). When a dog barks, we assume it dislikes us, but we are foolish if we take offense and spend all day wondering why this dog dislikes us.” This approach is heavily promoted throughout Chapter 11 (on insults). Now, imagine you are a ruler or high-ranking official (like Marcus Aurelius or Seneca) and, willingly or unwillingly, you oppress people, causing them such hardship that they curse you. What is your reaction? If you are Stoic, you should say, “Just another dog barking!” This approach stems from the Stoic devaluation of “the other,” most evident here. While Islamic ethics prohibits cursing (and to some extent, condemnation), it certainly does not advise treating it like a dog’s bark. Eastern (including Islamic) ethical narratives are filled with stories of great figures who, upon hearing curses and insults, recognized pain in the insulter’s soul, attempting to heal it with more attention and kindness. Sometimes, insults are the only way others can confront us (due to their psychological upbringing or social power dynamics). Whatever the reason, sometimes the only way to hear criticism is through insults. Developing approaches that enable us to separate the stench of insult from the gem of critique within it is truly achieving alchemy, but Stoic advice seemingly doesn’t provide such a filter.
Conclusion
The above critiques and many others do not negate the book’s value. “A Guide To The Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy” is highly valuable and practical. I’ve focused on its weaknesses, but its consistencies and strengths are such that few will regret reading it. If you aim to build a philosophy for your life and are not averse to non-Islamic texts or sensitive to psychology, definitely explore Stoicism. And if you choose to do so, don’t miss this book.
