This top-notch collection of essays attempts to trace some of the influences of Stoicism from antiquity to the present day. Many of the essays originated as papers from a 2000 conference at Emory University. The prime question that these texts provide partial answers to is, how did Stoicism influence Western thought after antiquity? These exploratory works tread new ground in regard to this question and open up new paths for future research. Our picture of the after-history of Stoicism is blurry at best; this collection aims to “bring this picture into sharper focus by exploring how Stoicism actually influenced philosophers from antiquity through the modern period in fields ranging from logic and ethics to politics and theology” (1). In this regard the collection succeeds admirably well.

The essays each look at different thinkers, periods, and issues, and each employs its own methodology and approach, with very litter overlap. Varieties of approach are the great strength of essay collections, and in this regard too, Stoicism succeeds. The multiple angles and points of ingress break open what is a large and unwieldy topic into a series of informative studies of the traditions that arose out of the Stoic legacy. The difficulties for this task lie in Stoicism itself and its murky later history. A bit of background information will be helpful here before we proceed.

The body of thought that we identify as Stoicism arose in the ideas of a disparate group of thinkers in antiquity and became one of the dominant philosophical systems of the Graeco-Roman world. The Stoics espoused an integrated philosophical system that combined cosmology, biology, psychology, logic, and ethics. It is hard to sum up Stoicism, and much of the details are still contested, but the basic outline is something like this: The Stoics believed that the cosmos was made up of (passive) matter, and an active principle. Only matter truly exists, and the Stoics are materialists of a kind, but not in any modern sense. The universe is ruled by divine reason (logos), and repeats itself in infinite cycles, driven by the active principle (God or fate). Theirs is a deterministic universe, but our choices within this overall determinism are still free (though outcomes are determined). The cosmos is good and thus all that happens within it is for the good, even if it seems otherwise.

The stoics saw human beings likewise as passive matter animated by a divine principle (breath or soul). Human beings are rational creatures capable of knowing reality. Through this knowledge we can make choices to act in accord with divine reason (though, again, it is the choice itself that is free). Choosing to act in accord with divine reason is virtuous, and virtue alone is the true good and true happiness. Thus reason leads to (or enables us to see and choose) virtue, which is happiness.

It is, unfortunately, impossible to reconstruct a complete picture of ancient Stoicism because the works of the Stoics have largely survived only as fragments (this is particularly true of the early founders). Stoicism arose in the third century BC, in Greece, flourished throughout the Hellenistic era and died out some time before the third century AD. Part of the difficulty for this volume is that, as the editors note in their introduction, “there is no clearly discernable path of transmission” between the ancient Stoics of the Hellenistic and Roman periods and those thinkers in the medieval and modern periods in whose works Stoic traces are clearly, sometimes explicitly, present (2). Stoicism as a popular philosophy was eclipsed by Christianity by the end of the Imperial period, and many Christian thinkers took hostile exception to pagan Stoicism.  And yet, as authors in this volume show, Stoic ideas were not only transmitted through Christian writers, but played their role in Christian thought itself.

In order to deal with this problem, this volume attempts what the editors refer to as a “low-road” methodology (1-2) that focuses on broad tendencies within Stoicism and follows their (often and even largely indirect) transmission into later periods and contexts. They recognise the necessity of adjusting their methodology to the evidence (2). In the essays we encounter Stoic ideas “recontextualized” (2), put to uses that their original authors did not intend, challenged, misread, and modified. We see a scattered and fragmented tradition that nonetheless has an influence that resounds throughout Western intellectual history.

Philosophers and historians will be interested in this volume for obvious reasons. As an historical and philosophical text this collection is excellent. The essays show us much that we did not know before, unearthing connections and tracing the history of ideas through murky transmissions. They shed light both on ancient Stoicism and on the later thinkers who were influenced by it, often indirectly, and sometimes without knowing it. But why might psychologists be interested in this volume? Here some more background is needed.

The Stoics had a well-developed body of psychological theories that were an intricate part of their remarkably unified system of thought and were closely tied to their cosmology, biology, and ethics. The core of this was the belief that reason was the central human faculty. Reason dominated Stoic psychology, right down to the emotions, which we either rationally assent to or not. Passions, inappropriate extreme emotions, represent bad choices that can be avoided through rational decision. Stoic psychology is thus intricately tied with Stoic epistemology; our emotional and cognitive lives are one, ruled either by a more or less well-trained reason.

In addition to this well-developed theoretical account of the psyche, the Stoics also believed that they had what we could call a therapeutic approach that would alleviate much human suffering. As virtue is the true good and true happiness, and, as reason dictates that we act in accord with virtue (in pursuit of happiness or the good), we know what we should pursue in order to achieve the good life: we must develop our reason so that we are better able to make correct judgements. But we would still be open to all the miseries that bad fortune brings into our lives. The Stoics however had a solution to this problem. Because virtue is the only true good it should be our only true concern (everything else is either a preferred or dispreferred “indifferent”). A Stoic sage, who’s reason is perfectly developed, and thus is able to see reality directly, is able to constantly keep the true good in focus and therefore is not susceptible to feeling misery because of any outward misfortunes. If dispreferred things happen it is of no consequence as long as (s)he keeps the good in mind.

This collection then is valuable for the light it casts on a less well-known and understood aspect of the history of psychology, important both for its own sake and for the light it in turn casts upon the roots of some of our modern conceptions.

The essays begin with A. A. Long’s, “The Socratic Imprint on Epictetus’ Philosophy.” Long looks at the influence of Socratic ideas in the first century AD Stoic philosopher Epictetus. Long shows that Epictetus used Socrates and the Socratic method in his teachings as examples both of the life of the sage, and of the exercise of reason. It is Epictetus’ focus on the Socratic dialectic in particular that marks a new development in Stoic thought, Long shows us. What is crucial here is that Socrates becomes an example of the ideal of the examined life. And this both reinforces Stoic psychology and ethics and gives it a strong methodological example that can act as a prescription.

Steven K. Strange’s “The Stoics on the Voluntariness of the Passions” takes us deep into the Stoic psychology of Chrysippus and his critic Posidonius. Strange defends Chrysippus’ philosophical psychology, particularly its account of the rationality of the human mind. Chrysippus argued that reason was the sole motivator for human action, leaving himself open to the contradiction of the seemingly obvious irrationality at play in our lives. Strange’s defence hinges on the distinction between emotions and our judgements about them (either assent or dissent). This has implications for the whole related complex of Stoic psychology, ethics, and epistemology.

With Troels Engberg-Pedersen’s “Stoicism in the Apostle Paul: A Philosophical Reading” we are moving further out of the world of ancient Stoicism itself and into its influences on other systems. Through an examination of Paul’s letters (particularly to the Galatians) and a comparison with Philo Judaeus, Engberg-Pedersen shows how Paul used Stoic ideas to express his own religious philosophy and to convey his ideas to others. Engberg-Pedersen goes so far as to assert that Paul was a sort of crypto-Stoic though, of course, noting that Paul would not have agreed.

 By examining the place of the judicial concept of moral judgement in his “Moral Judgement in Seneca” Brad Inwood sheds light not only on the thought of this key Roman Stoic, but also on this common cliché in general. Inwood notes that the courtroom is not the only metaphorical locus for describing and understanding moral decision and that it was not as predominant in the ancient world as it is today. But, he finds, this metaphor is particularly important for understanding Seneca’s ethics. Through exploring Seneca’s use of this metaphor Inwood is able to show that the criticism that the Stoics had two moral standards for the Sage and for the rest of us is false. There is one standard for justice, but different abilities for correct judgment. Thus, the sage alone is right to insist on the strictest moral law; the rest of us, fallible as we are, should be restrained by the fact that we too fall below the absolute standard.

In “Stoic First Movements in Christianity,” Richard Sorabji traces the concept of First Movements from its Stoic roots into the world of Christian antiquity where it was transformed. For the Stoics First Movements are stimulations (itching, shivering, arousal, etc.), which we then either must ascent to or dissent from, in order for them to become emotions (which are the products of rational judgement). Sorabji shows how this concept was recontextualized and then re-defined by Christian thinkers to describe “bad” or sinful thoughts, to temptations, which we either assent to or dissent from in the form of committing sin. Here we catch a glimpse of the process of transformation from Stoic philosophical psychology to Christian theological psychology.

Sen Ebbesen’s “Where were the Stoics in the Late Middle Ages?” offers the answer, “everywhere and nowhere” revealing that a Stoic inheritance was present even where no direct transmission could be found. The classical world passed down a stoic legacy in a set of ideas and attitudes that became separated from the original works and yet continued to resound.

Calvin Normore’s “Abelard’s Stoicism and Its Consequences” continues the theme of tracing Stoicism in the Middle ages by looking at the Stoic content of Peter Abelard’s ethics and tracing its influence on later thinkers. The idea that sin is consent to temptations ties this essay back to Sorabji’s paper as well.

In Jacqueline Lagrée’s “Constancy and Coherence” we move into the early modern period. Lagrée looks at the encounter between Stoic ethics and renaissance and reformation Christian thinkers. Focusing on the Stoic concept of constancy, Lagrée shows how Stoic thought was further recontextualized, reinterpreted and adapted to present concerns.

Donald Rutherford looks at the role Stoic ideas played in that central modern philosopher in “On the Happy Life: Descartes vis-à-vis Seneca,” both those ideas that influenced him and those that he rejected.

Firmin DeBrabander explores Stoic Psychotherapy in contrast to that of Spinoza in “Psychotherapy and Moral Perfection: Spinoza and the Stoics on the Prospect of Happiness.” Looking at the role that moral perfection plays in the Stoics conception of the sage and his/her happiness (only the sage is truly happy) and protection from the miseries that less able minds find in bad fortune and Spinoza’s picture of the wise philosopher, DeBrabander discovers that Spinoza was not as close to the Stoics as one might assume. Spinoza rejected the Stoic ideal of dispassionate tranquillity and freedom from the passions because he believed it to be artificial and not in accordance with nature because, in reality, we have no such power and are at prey to the world. Acceptance of this truth, for Spinoza, would mean living in closer accord with nature than the tranquillity of the Stoic sage.

Martha Nussbaum’s “Duties of Justice, Duties of Material Aid: Cicero’s Problematic Legacy” takes us from the history of philosophy directly into present day ethical concerns. She looks at Cicero’s ideas about aid and violence and duties to others (and in particular his notions about proximity) and modern ideas about material aid and justice in distribution of goods.

Finally, Lawrence C. Becker’s “Stoic Emotion” examines Stoic psychology in light of modern developments in psychological research, both philosophical and biological. Becker, who had already described a new Stoic ethics in his A New Stoicism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), focuses here on the topic of emotion. He argues that Stoics in the present day would insist on modifying their own theories based on the best available science and therefore would jettison portions of their psychology, biology, and cosmology that conflicted with current developments. After this trimming of the fat, Becker argues, Stoic ideas about emotions would remain largely intact in regard to their most fundamental points and might have something to offer modern psychologists perhaps offering a counter to any over-emphasis on more romantic views of the emotions.

And this brings us to the question of Stoicism and modern psychology. What this work has to offer those interested in psychology are glimpses of a philosophical psychology that stresses the role of reason and rational assent even down to the level of our emotional life. This view also includes a therapeutic component that claims to offer protection from the psychic harm that we find in our lives. Becker makes a good case for considering that this view – with some modifications – may be largely compatible with modern psychology and biochemistry. What others may make of this is an open question.

Throughout this collection various interpretations proposed by the authors could be contested, but this is due to the nature of the material, rather than to the arguments themselves. What this collection provides is a set of pathways into an enormous, difficult, and often-elusive topic. Each one of these essays is first-rate work and yet the collection as a whole also manages to be more than the sum of its parts.

This collection achieves its goals admirably. It represents a serious contribution to scholarship that sheds light on Stoicism and its later impact. There is much here for the specialist and much here for those with a general background in the history of philosophy. For the general reader, however, a more extensive introduction providing a brief historical background would have been a good idea. For those with a basic background in the history of Western thought it should be easy to find their footing in the essays themselves, but for the general reader this will be more difficult.

 

© 2013 Mason Tattersall

 

Mason Tattersall, Oregon State University