Was Epictetus encouraging cold indifference? 

The question that Massimo raises is an interesting and important one. Epictetus’ seemingly nonchalant attitude towards the death of a child can certainly shock some people. What’s going on here? 

Child mortality was common in antiquity, just as it remains common today in some parts of the world. Epictetus uses this example because it was something that people had to contend with far more often than most of us do so today. That does not mean that one ought to cultivate an unfeeling attitude, but it does mean that people might have needed to prepare themselves to cope with such a difficult event. Marcus Aurelius and his wife Faustina had fourteen children and lost eight of them. It is perhaps unsurprising that he too reflected on this theme (e.g. Meditations 9.40, 10.34) and he tells us that he learned to do so from his teacher Apollonius (1.8). 

The example is a tough one but it reflects a wider issue in Epictetus’ thought on which it might be worth reflecting. There is surprisingly little stress in Epictetus on a key idea in Stoic ethics – the distinction between preferred and dis-preferred indifferents. For Epictetus it is virtue all the way, one might say, as it was for the Cynics. But the distinctive feature of Stoic ethics that distinguishes it from Cynic ethics is the theory of preferred and dis-preferred indifferents. A Stoic will have preferences – sometimes quite strong preferences – about states of affairs in the external world. Having good health, some financial security, and a flourishing family all have positive value (axia) according to the Stoics, and on some definitions the goal of Stoicism is to select these positively valued indifferents, using virtue as a guide. The Stoic has preferences and makes choices; they do not merely shrug and say that ‘none of this is up to me’. 

There are different ways in which we can hear the phrase ‘preferred indifferents’, depending on where we choose to put the stress. If we stress that these things are ‘preferred’, then we have a view not too distant from Aristotle’s, as Antiochus had argued in the first century BC (and reported by Cicero). Epictetus, by contrast, places the stress on ‘indifferents’, pushing Stoicism in the other direction, far closer to the Cynic view. A lot of recent popular presentations of Stoicism perhaps rely too heavily on Epictetus and, as a consequence, can sound too harsh and uncompromising some times. A presentation that, say, took its point of departure from Cicero instead might seem quite different in emphasis. 

This is a lingering concern I have had about Epictetus’ version of Stoicism. On its own, does his account give a slightly skewed image of Stoicism? Does he lean too far in the direction of Cynicism? It can sometimes seem so.  

Having said that, I think that it might be possible to explain what’s going on here. In one passage, in which he is discussing habituation, Epictetus says that if all one’s focus is directed towards desiring external things, then, in order to challenge this, one ought to focus on the extreme opposite, namely only those things internal and within one’s control (Discourses 3.12.6). Now, this is not to say that the final outcome ought to be to become narrowly focused on what’s in one’s control and coldly indifferent to the external world. It is simply a strategy for those wanting to make progress who currently focus all their attention on externals. In order to break a bad habit, he says, one needs to develop an opposing habit. This is what I think he is often proposing. For someone who places all value on external things, Epictetus in effect says ‘try placing no value on external things’, in order the break the mental habit. The ultimate goal, however, is a more sensible balance in the middle, one that gives value to some external things while also insisting that an excellent character is the only thing one needs for a good, happy life. 

Epictetus does acknowledge the difference in value between external things, even in the difficult passage that prompted this discussion (Enchiridion 3). He does not say that the loss of a jug and a child are equivalent. On the contrary, he says that the loss of a jug is something trivial and, by implication, the loss of a child is far more significant. Start with the trivial example and then think about the much harder one. But, and here’s the hard truth, both are indeed things that won’t last forever, whether we like it or not.