Epictetus, the freed slave turned Stoic philosopher and teacher, said the following:
Some things are within our power, while others are not. Within our power are opinion, motivation, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever is of our own doing; not within our power are our body, our property, reputation, office, and, in a word, whatever is not of our own doing. (Enchiridion 1)
In episode 5 of the Stoicism On Fire podcast, I covered the practice of attention (prosoche), which is, according to the philosopher Pierre Hadot, the fundamental Stoic spiritual attitude.[1] In this podcast, I will cover the category of things to which we are to pay attention—those are the things that are within our complete control. The popular term for this concept is the Dichotomy of Control, which Epictetus distinguished as what is and is not“up to us” (eph’ hêmin). Pierre Hadot called this distinction the fundamental rule of life for the Stoic practitioner.[2] Therefore, when we focus our attention on what is “up to us”, we combine the fundamental Stoic spiritual attitude with the fundamental rule of life and end up with what Hadot calls the fundamental Stoic attitude or Stoic moral attitude. This attitude is what enables us to make progress along the Stoic path—the path of the prokopton. Hadot defines this fundamental Stoic attitude in detail. Referring to Enchiridion1.1, Hadot writes:
Here, we can glimpse one of the Stoics' most fundamental attitudes: the delimitation of our own sphere of liberty as an impregnable islet of autonomy, in the midst of the vast river of events and of Destiny. What depends on us are thus the acts of our soul, because we can freely choose them. We can judge or not judge, or judge in whatever manner we please; we can desire or not desire; will or not will. By contrast, that which does not depend on us—Epictetus lists our body, honors, riches, and high positions of authority—is everything that depends upon the general course of nature. Our body, first: it is true that we can move it, but we are not completely in control of it. Birth, death, sickness, involuntary movements, sensations of pleasure or of pain: all these are completely independent of our will. As for wealth and honors: we can, to be sure, attempt to acquire them, yet definitive success does not depend upon us, but upon a series of human factors and events which are exterior to us; they are imponderable and do not depend upon our will. Thus, the Stoic delimits a center of autonomy—the soul, as opposed to the body; and a guiding principle (hegemonikon) as opposed to the rest of the soul. It is within this guiding principle that freedom and our true self are located.[3]
The key phrase in that passage from Hadot’s book The Inner Citadel is “the impregnable islet of autonomy.” As we consider what is and is not “up to us” it is easy to see this fundamental rule of life as limiting. However, throughout the Discourses and Enchiridion, Epictetus teaches this rule for the opposite reason. It is by understanding what is and is not “up to us” that we can find true freedom. It is not an accident that Epictetus, a freed slave, emphasizes this rule and the freedom it provides—he understood the nature and value of true freedom as a result of high life experience.
The Stoics understood that externals cannot bring us the well-being we seek. Possessing them is indifferent with regard to our moral character; however, desiring them and pursuing them is the path to psychological anguish. Why? Because they can all be taken away in a moment—in a fire, a life-threatening illness, a hostile take-over of a company, a layoff, a market crash, a divorce, a terrible accident, etc. They may make us temporarily happy, but that is not what the Stoics meant by the Greek word eudaimonia. The eudaimonia of the Stoics was the sense of well-being that comes from the pursuit of virtue, or human excellence in the areas of wisdom, courage, justice, and moderation. The Stoics teach us it is possible to live an excellent (virtuous) human life, and thereby experience well-being, under any circumstances. That includes being imprisoned, enslaved, and even tortured. That is an entirely novel concept to most moderns. We tend to measure our happiness by externals—what we own, our health, job, relationships, etc. The Stoic argument against this measurement of happiness is really quite simple: Our human excellence (virtue) and resulting well-being cannot be dependent on anything we do not have complete control over. Otherwise, to use Epictetus’ language, we are a “slave” to those externals.
What Is “Up to Us”?
Enchiridion 1.1 makes it quite clear what is “up to us” and the list is quite short:
Focus on the contents of the circle in the diagram above for a moment. That is our unimpeded circle of control. Nothing, no one, not even God can influence what is inside that circle. Epictetus teaches us that we have complete control over all three items in that circle—we are the master of that inner domain. Unfortunately, we typically desire to control those things outside of that circle—what the Stoic called “externals” or “indifferents.” We desire good health, some wealth, a good reputation, etc., and we fear sickness, poverty, low social status, etc. Epictetus repeats one profound truth throughout the Discourses and the Enchiridion, and it is quite easy to understand; however, most of us refuse to consider it. What is that truth? We spend most of our lives desiring and fearing things that are not “up to us” because we consider them “good” or “bad,” and that leads to our misery. Meanwhile, we neglect the things that are wholly within our control: our judgments, desires and aversions, and impulse to act. How important is this distinction between what and is not “up to us”? Epictetus mentions it in fifty of the ninety-six chapters of the Discourses, and sixteen of the fifty-three chapters of the Enchiridion. Chapter 1 of the Discourses is focused exclusively on the topic. In Enchiridion1, Epictetus draws a sharp contrast between two paths, and it serves as both a promise and a warning.
Indifferents
There is a lot of confusion about “indifferents” in Stoicism. It is a mistake to assume the Stoic practitioner—prokopton—is indifferent to all externals, if by ‘indifferent’ we mean a total lack of interest in them and no pursuit of them. Food, water, and shelter are “indifferents” in Stoicism. However, we will not survive long without them. It is a natural human impulse to survive; therefore, we will pursue food, water, and shelter. Additionally, Stoicism teaches us that we are social animals and it is our duty to be involved in society. If we misinterpret a life in agreement with nature, and misunderstand indifferents, we could easily turn Stoic practice into the ascetic life of a renunciate hermit. That is most certainly not what the Stoics had in mind. If you are living a life in isolation from as many externals as possible, including other humans, how will you develop your virtue? What would a life of wisdom, courage, justice, and moderation even look like without externals? The practice and development of virtue requires externals. Therefore, as a Stoic prokopton, we cannot deny all externals.
The question that naturally arises then is this: What did the Stoics mean when they categorized all externals as indifferents? They meant they have no inherent moral value. They are neither “good” nor “bad” in the sense that possessing them makes us more or less virtuous. If we had a scale to measure value and we placed wisdom, courage, justice, and moderation on one side, that side of the scale would immediately drop as the value of virtue is immense. Now we start stacking indifferents on the other side—health, wealth, reputation, a house, high office, a long life, friends, family, a just government, etc. We keep stacking and stacking, but the scale doesn’t even budge. Why? Because none of those externals has any inherent value when measured against those virtues.
Image adapted from - WorldArtsMe
Nevertheless, there is an extremely important point that is frequently misunderstood about externals or “indifferents” (I use the words “externals” and “indifferents” interchangeably because all externals are indifferents): While they do not have any inherent value, many of them do have practical value. That means we can and must use some indifferents in our daily life—the Stoics labeled them “preferred indifferents.” These are indifferents that may be useful in the development of our human excellence (virtue). Therefore, our task as a Stoic prokopton is not to deny that indifferents have any value. Instead, our training must lead us to the realization that indifferents will not bring us happiness. Equally important is the understanding that desiring externals will bring us the opposite of virtue and happiness: It will result in psychological distress.
Living Between Denial and Desire
That brings us to where the rubber meets the road in our daily lives, where we must make choices about indifferents. Again, the Stoics were not renunciates; they did not renounce property, money, public office, social relationships, etc., as the ancient Cynics did. The Stoics did not deny the value of externals entirely; they denied their inherent value. The Stoic message is quite clear: Virtue is the only good; therefore, if we seek externals as a good, we will be hindered, we will lament, we will have a troubled mind, and ultimately, we will blame gods and humans for our distress (Enchiridion1). Nevertheless, we do choose some externals in our daily life as a part of being a social creature and fulfilling our duties. Epictetus uses the analogy of a banquet to drive this point home.
Remember that you should behave in life as you do at a banquet. Something is being passed around and arrives in front of you: reach out your hand and take your share politely.
