Stoicism is an eminently practical philosophy, which probably accounts in great part for its endurance and current popularity. My friend Chuck Chakrapani, however, wishes to propose a form of Pragmatic Stoicism—notice the capital P—meaning a version of Stoicism rooted in the modern philosophical approach known as Pragmatism and developed largely in the United States during the late 19th century by authors like philosophers Charles Sanders Peirce, William James, and John Dewey. I think it’s a bad idea. Let me explain why.
What’s the problem?
What problem does Chuck want to solve with his proposal? He thinks, correctly, that a philosophy that is over two millennia old is bound to endorse some things that no longer work, for instance because they are out of synch with the modern, science-based view of the world.
I agree, and I have written a number of essays, and at least one book, on this very issue. For instance, the ancient Stoics believed that the universe is a living organism endowed with reason, the famous “logos.” But as an evolutionary biologist with some understanding of physics and cosmology I see nothing whatsoever in the world as we know it that would substantiated such belief. Indeed, if we look at why the Stoics held to such notion (for instance, in Cicero’s De Natura Deorum, book II) we discover that they deployed an argument from intelligent design. As Epictetus puts it:
“Who is it, then, that has fitted this to that and that to this? And who is it that has fitted the sword to the scabbard, and the scabbard to the sword? No one? Assuredly from the very structure of all made objects we are accustomed to prove that the work is certainly the product of some artificer, and has not been constructed at random. Does, then, every such work reveal its artificer, but do visible objects and vision and light not reveal him? And the male and the female, and the passion of each for intercourse with the other, and the faculty which makes use of the organs which have been constructed for this purpose, do these things not reveal their artificer either? Well, admit it for these things; but the marvelous constitution of the intellect whereby, when we meet with sensible objects, we do not merely have their forms impressed upon us, but also make a selection from among them, and subtract and add, and make these various combinations by using them, yes, and, by Zeus, pass from some things to certain others which are in a manner related to them—is not even all this sufficient to stir our friends and induce them not to leave the artificer out of account? Else let them explain to us what it is that produces each of these results, or how it is possible that objects so wonderful and so workmanlike should come into being at random and spontaneously.” (Discourses, I. 6)
This sort of argument, which would have certainly convinced me, had I lived in the second century of the current era, was demolished by a double punch delivered by David Hume (in Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, 1779) and Charles Darwin (in On the Origin of Species, chapter 6, 1859). After Hume and Darwin that aspect of Stoic metaphysics has to go, which has implications for Stoic ethics, despite Chuck’s adamant statement to the contrary (more on this later).
So I’m on board with the general idea that Stoicism needs updating. I just think that Pragmatism (the philosophy) is not the way to go.
The issues with Pragmatism
Pragmatism is a philosophical movement that judges the truth and value of ideas by their practical consequences rather than by abstract principles or correspondence to reality. Its core tenets include: (i) truth as utility: ideas are true if they work successfully in practice and produce beneficial results; (ii) meaning through effects: the meaning of concepts should be understood through their practical effects and observable consequences; (iii) knowledge as tool: rather than seeking absolute truth or perfect representations of reality, knowledge should serve as a tool for solving problems and guiding effective action; ( iv) focus on experience: the emphasis is on lived experience, experimentation, and continuous inquiry over fixed dogmas or foundational certainties; (v) anti-foundationalism: rejection of the quest for certain, unchangeable foundations for knowledge.
In essence, pragmatists ask not “Is this true?” but “What difference does this make?” and “How does this help us navigate the world effectively?” The philosophy emerged as a distinctly American response to European philosophical traditions, emphasizing democratic values, scientific method, and practical problem-solving over abstract theorizing. And this is precisely what Chuck likes about it and why he wants the rest of us to adopt a Pragmatic Stoicism. Sounds good, right? But there are some problems.
Pragmatism faces several major philosophical objections that critics have raised since its emergence. Here are the key issues:
(a) The truth problem. Perhaps the most fundamental objection concerns Pragmatism’s theory of truth. Critics argue that defining truth as “what works” or “what has useful consequences” confuses truth with utility. They contend that something can be useful but false, or true but not particularly useful. For example, a comforting lie might “work” psychologically, but that doesn’t make it true. I would notice that the Stoics would be adamantly opposed to using comforting lies. Precisely because they valued truth.
(b) Relativism and subjectivism. Many philosophers worry that Pragmatism leads to an unacceptable relativism. If truth is determined by what works for particular communities or individuals, then contradictory beliefs could both be “true” simultaneously. Critics argue this undermines the possibility of objective knowledge and rational disagreement. The Stoics were most definitely not relativists.
(c) The Correspondence Theory challenge. Philosophers often insist that truth should correspond to reality, not just produce good results. They argue that Pragmatism abandons this crucial connection between our beliefs and how the world actually is, potentially leaving us with useful fictions rather than genuine knowledge. Again, the Stoics would not get on board with such an attitude.
(d) Anti-intellectualism. Some critics claim Pragmatism is overly focused on practical outcomes and dismissive of theoretical knowledge pursued for its own sake. They worry it reduces all inquiry to problem-solving and ignores the intrinsic value of understanding, contemplation, and pure research. The Stoics were certainly (small-p) pragmatic, but did not disdain inquiry into theoretical or non-practical domains, such as logic and natural philosophy.
(e) Moral and political concerns. In ethics and politics, critics argue that pragmatic approaches can justify harmful actions if they produce desired results. The “ends justify the means” worry suggests Pragmatism lacks adequate moral constraints and could rationalize oppression or violence.
(f) Foundational instability. Finally, philosophers seeking more stable foundations for knowledge criticize Pragmatism’s rejection of starting points, known as axioms or assumptions. They argue that without firm epistemological foundations or reference points Pragmatism offers no way to distinguish between genuine knowledge and mere opinion or prejudice.
So, despite its apparent promise as a no-nonsense philosophy, Pragmatism has huge problems, which Chuck ignores in his article.
We tried this before, and it didn’t work
While I stated at the onset that I agree with Chuck that ancient Stoicism needs updating, he is throwing out the baby with the bathwater. He unequivocally states: “the pragmatist does not consider Stoic physics relevant to modern Stoicism,” and, a few lines later: “Stoic logic does not have any direct bearing on understanding Stoic ethics.” So, of the three fields of study of classical Stoicism—science, logic, and ethics—Chuck wishes us to retain only the latter.
This move is not new, and in fact it has been tried by Aristo of Chios, who was a student of Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism. Aristo became famous for arguing that physics and logic were either unknowable or completely irrelevant to achieving the good life. He believed that only ethics mattered for philosophy—that understanding how to live virtuously was the sole concern worth pursuing. He considered the other two branches of Stoic philosophy to be useless distractions, which sounds exactly like Chuck!
This put Aristo in direct conflict with the developing Stoic philosophy, which saw physics, logic, and ethics as deeply interconnected parts of a unified philosophical system. The mainstream Stoics argued that you couldn’t properly understand ethics without understanding the nature of the cosmos (physics) and proper reasoning (logic). Because of these fundamental disagreements, Aristo was eventually marginalized from the school and is generally considered to have abandoned Stoicism altogether. Later Stoics went so far as to refer to his position as a cautionary example of how not to approach philosophy.
Interestingly, there is a famous passage in the Discourses where Epictetus explains to one of his students why logic is useful:
“When someone in his audience said, Convince me that logic is necessary, he answered: Do you wish me to demonstrate this to you? — Yes. — Well, then, must I use a demonstrative argument? — And when the questioner had agreed to that, Epictetus asked him. How, then, will you know if I impose upon you? — As the man had no answer to give, Epictetus said: Do you see how you yourself admit that all this instruction is necessary, if, without it, you cannot so much as know whether it is necessary or not?” (Discourses, II.25)
QED, as my professor of logic would say.
As for understanding science and metaphysics, Chuck is too quick to dismiss such field as pragmatically irrelevant. For instance, he says that it doesn’t matter whether God exists or not, or what its nature is, because this has no effect on our ethics. But it certainly does. As we have seen before, the Stoics believed in a kind of intelligent cosmic providence. This belief is what makes sense of otherwise puzzling or downright bizarre things that Epictetus says:
“With everything which entertains you, is useful, or of which you are fond, remember to say to yourself, beginning with the very least things, ‘What is its nature?’ If you are fond of a jug, say, ‘I am fond of a jug’; for when it is broken you will not be disturbed. If you kiss your own child or wife, say to yourself that you are kissing a human being; for when it dies you will not be disturbed.” (Enchiridion 3)
I should not be “disturbed” if my wife or child die? What sort of psychopath was this guy anyway? But that section of Enchiridion makes perfect sense when seen from the point of view of someone who believes that our existence acquires meaning because we do our part for the good of the cosmos. Throw away that belief (as I think we should) and now the best you can do is to endure the loss of your loved ones, certainly not embrace it. No more amor fati for you! To claim that what we think about questions of metaphysics does not affect the way we live misses a major insight of Stoicism: that the way we think about things very much alters the way we act. In modern psychology this is called the framing effect, and it is a foundational aspect of cognitive behavioral therapy, which was inspired by Stoicism back in the 1960s when it started. Bill Irvine wrote a whole book presenting Stoicism in terms of the framing effect.
Another question Chuck thinks irrelevant concerns free will. The Stoics were compatibilists about free will, meaning that they accepted the notion that everything in the universe is the result of cause-effect, including our decisions, and yet maintained that those decisions are “ours” in an important sense, because they are the result of how our internal decision-making apparatus—Epictetus’s famous prohairesis—processes inputs, evaluates them, and produces (hopefully rational) outputs.
Contra Chuck, contemporary empirical research indicates that belief in free will significantly influences human behavior. Studies show that when individuals doubt the existence of free will, their actions and moral judgments can change. For instance, believing in free will promotes cooperative behavior, while when people are led to think that free will does not exist, they tend to cheat more in various tasks. A study found that participants who were told science negates free will were more likely to engage in dishonest behavior. Also, reduced belief in free will correlates with less support for punitive measures: people who doubt free will are less retributive in their judgments, suggesting a shift towards more lenient views on punishment. So, what one believes about what Chuck regards as an undecidable and irrelevant question actually plays a crucial role in shaping behaviors, moral judgments, and social interactions. Understanding these effects can provide insights into human psychology and societal norms—another thing the Stoics would have been in favor of, but that goes out the window if we stick to just ethics.
Missing the big picture
One of the great insights of the Stoics was the notion that ethics is, ultimately, an empirical discipline. While it is treated as a theoretical and analytical exercise in modern departments of philosophy in universities around the world, “ethics” comes from the Greek ēthikos, which means “pertaining to character.” Cicero then translated the term into Latin as moralis, meaning “pertaining to mores, or manners.” Ethics, that is, concerns who we are and how we interact with others as members of a highly social biological species. Which in turn means that we should take seriously what sort of species Homo sapiens is when it comes to decide how to behave.
That’s why the ancient Stoics said that we ought to live “according to Nature” (Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Eminent Philosophers, VII.87), meaning both human nature and the nature of the world at large. But that being the case, we need to learn about both human and universal nature—that is, we need to do science—and we need to think carefully and well about the whole matter, which means to study logic in the broad sense (DL, VII.39).
That’s why it makes no sense to detach Stoic ethics from the other two disciplines. On what basis would we act one way or another? What sort of framework would we use to prioritize things, to set goals, and so on? To answer “whatever works” is not at all helpful unless we have a notion of what “working” means. And for that we need, once again, empirical findings from the natural sciences and a mind that can evaluate such findings and their implications. There is a reason we never heard of Aristo after he left the Stoa.
Again, Chuck does have a point when he says that we can’t just accept the ancient Stoic version of science, which was formulated two millennia before the modern scientific revolution. That said, Stoic logic is still very much the modern standard, for everyday applications, and one doesn’t need the more sophisticated approaches developed in the field during the 20th and 21st centuries.
But our forerunners’ fundamental insight remains valid: science + logic => eudaimonia. This is a non-negotiable aspect of Stoicism, without which one is simply not following the path of the Stoa anymore. This is why modern authors from Lawrence Becker to Donald Robertson have looked seriously into what psychology and cognitive science can bring to the practice of modern Stoicism. We have a living philosophy that has evolved since its beginnings, and as Seneca puts it (Letters XXXIII.10), those who came before us are not our masters, just our teachers. Nevertheless, it would be foolish to throw away some of the best stuff they taught us.
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