It isn’t usually revealing to discuss the mundane details of how philosophical ideas first came to our attention. Every philosophy worth its salt needs to transcend its own back story. In this case however, the background is quite interesting so let me share it with you.

It was sometime around 2010. I was sitting in a doner kebab restaurant (this is an indulgence even we, the Stoics, are allowed) with a friend, a fellow student of philosophy, of course. We were discussing an issue I had with another friend of mine (actually more a frenemy), whose behaviour was becoming more and more problematic, laden with passive and plain aggressions, all that jazz. I was quite close with the frenemy and – being a young person still – I simply couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he was treating me (and others) in such a manner. I wasn’t able to see my way stoically. I was straightforwardly frustrated.

Solve it or stop worrying

Back to the doner kebab now. I shared my feelings with the philosopher-friend. And out of the blue and with seemingly no effort at all she started reframing my story. That person drives you mad? You need to make a mental calculation and weigh which scenario takes bigger toll. You either:

[A] decide that you can’t accept the situation any longer and you do something about this troublesome guy (“doing something” may mean trying to reason with him, or, to the contrary, cutting the ties); or

[B] you decide that dealing with him would be a greater toil than original problem itself.

In the latter case you simply... do nothing. You simply cease to see it as an issue.

I was amazed how shockingly easy this was. The innate logic of it was particularly clean. I needed to either try to solve a problem or not worry about it – depending on what seemed more promising.

Avoid worrying but not acting

The true bottom line though was that I needed to avoid scenario [C] in which I simultaneously worry about the relationship and do nothing to amend it. This scenario is the ultimately non-stoical death spiral for our mind aka a surefire way to misery. And yet, we all stick to it way too often. Thus, we need to learn how to choose to not travel that path. This is what I came to call the principle of defining a proper alternative. The gist of it is what I just described.

The obvious reference is Epictetus’ story of a household one doesn’t like: you either stay and don’t complain or you leave it and get rid of the reason to complain (sounds like a jolly Brexit, doesn’t it?). On a deeper level this is based on Dichotomy of Control. We cannot adjust the situation to our wishes through mental choice only, yet we can choose where we focus our thinking, on trying to solve the problem (case A) or on not worrying about it (case B). This is where we can shape our attitude and this is where we need to focus.

Stoicism is not rule-following

One interesting aside about all this is that the principle of defining proper alternatives doesn’t really belong to the core of Stoic philosophy. It’s more like battle-tested, applied Stoicism. And that’s why it appeals to me so much! Every time I use it it reminds me that Stoicism isn’t about stubbornly following a pre-defined set of rules. It is more about employing them in dealing with the sort of challenges we face in our own life. After all, rusty Stoics are no Stoics at all. The only Stoicism there is is applied Stoicism.

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Dr. Piotr Stankiewicz, Ph.D., is a writer and philosopher, promoter of reformed Stoicism. He authored Manual of Reformed Stoicism, and Does Happiness Write Blank Pages?

 

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