The orthodox Stoics would tell you that we are all fumbling around in the dark, trying to follow a path laid out before us. But, according to the Stoics, the wisdom that would light the path will always be just out of reach. And so, even the most practiced and seemingly wise among us will always stray, always falter, and never walk the path intentionally. Because a person who truly grasps the guiding light of wisdom is either so rare that they come but once every five or ten generations at best, or they will never exist at all.

The unrealistic ideal of a sage

Personally, I think that kind of austerity is as myopic as it is unappealing. The idea that we would ever set the pedestal for human wisdom and moral excellence at perfection is, frankly, ridiculous. And so, I propose we soften the austere and unrealistic ideal of the wise one—the sage—to something relatable, believable, and achievable. It requires a reframing of what wisdom and virtue and excellence are in Stoic practice, but not by much.

Understanding the muddled moral greys

To begin, what better place to look for a reframing of Stoic wisdom than the Stoics themselves. Seneca may be one of the best positioned Stoics to understand the muddled moral grays of life. He was quick to tell his friend Lucilius that it was all but impossible to achieve complete reason unless it was ingrained in a person from birth:

Honourable conduct is, to be sure, brought about by precepts, but not by precepts alone… nobody, except he be trained from the start and equipped with complete reason, can develop to perfect proportions, understanding when he should do certain things, and to what extent, and in whose company, and how, and why. - Seneca, Moral Letters 95

Elsewhere in his series of letters, Seneca shares that the passions and vices we all feel are not necessarily the indicators of moral failure that those in the early Stoa would have us believe. Rather, those moments are deeply human, and how we respond and reframe them are a stronger indicator of wisdom. Grief at a lost loved one, pangs of envy at seeing someone get what we wished we got… those moments in and of themselves may mean that we’ve made a poor judgement. But tell me, of the following scenarios for each, which would you find to be more in line with human nature, more indicative of a wise person?

Loss of loved ones

1. You feel no grief, no remorse, no regrets, not even sadness—because you understand that nothing is truly ours and their death has no effect on our capacity for reason and virtue.
2. You grieve deeply, feel yourself slip away from the world and wallow in a misery that you cannot bear to withstand, becoming filled with despair and bitterness.
3. You feel the grief and sadness and regret that comes with loss, but understand that loss is natural, life impermanent, and recognize that your time together with them was special and gave you a greater appreciation for life.

Someone else has what you like

1. You feel no envy and in fact care not in the slightest, for that person’s success has no impact on your own and achievements, both theirs and yours, are indifferent to a life well lived.
2. You find yourself deeply envious of that person, resenting them for their success and seek to undermine them such that you can take what you believe you deserve instead.
3. You envy that person, for who wouldn’t when they are or have what you strive for? But you take that envy and turn it into admiration of their achievement, and motivation to reach that goal yourself.

In each, option 1 sounds to me like a robot masquerading as a human being, option 2 sounds like a child or person lacking maturity of any kind, and option 3 sounds like what true wisdom looks like. It is understanding that what we feel and what we think we know don’t limit us to what we do or will become. It is having a growth mindset that encourages us to always learn and strive for excellence, while acknowledging that we may sometimes falter.

Immature fool vs. the robotic sage

Personally, I’d rather spend time with the immature fool than the robotic sage. The fool gives me the chance to grow and help them grow at the same time, while the sage serves as nothing more than a source of a deep eye roll and an “okay, buddy.” Perfection is not worth striving for. Instead, I agree we should strive for excellence. One is achievable and admirable, the other a folly. And if we aim not to be a fool, then shouldn’t we avoid the folly altogether?

John Kuna is a Stoic prokopton, writer, and dog lover. He likes digging deep into Stoic theory, but also writing accessible and inspiring Stoic content.

 

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