Stoics Behaving Badly COSP
- Disponibilité
- Texte consultable
- Qualité du texte
- Contrôles automatiques réussis
- Format du texte
- Texte numérique extrait du document
- Type de document
- Ressource pédagogique
- Droits d’usage
- Utilisation autorisée pour ce projet
- Extraits
- 14
page 1
Issue 77
A publication of the College of Stoic Philosophers
July 2026
Stoics Behaving Badly
Judith Stove
Philosophy does not consist in sleeping on the ground, nor in writing
dialogues, but in rectifying one’s character. (Hadot, p. 10)
The longer we spend in the movement that is the revival of Stoicism as a philosophy of life, the more
likely it is that we will encounter fellow members acting in a way which seems contrary to Stoic principles.
We may have thoroughly absorbed the reminders from Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, that such conduct is
to be expected; yet when it occurs, there is an inevitable element of shock.
It’s worth considering whether you ought rather to blame yourself for failing to foresee that
he would transgress in this way. After all, you even had the resources, in the form of your
ability to think rationally, to appreciate that he was likely to commit that fault, yet you forgot
it and are now surprised that he did exactly that (Meditations 9.42).
Another reason to expect such an event, is that if we carefully attend to the biographical record of
prominent Stoics, we may be faced with conduct which seems positively anti-Stoic. The biographical
mode, exemplified in Ryan Holiday and Stephen Hanselman, Lives of the Stoics (2020), has intended to
present prominent Stoics from history as role models. But when we look closely, the results can be
disconcerting. Of course, we need to treat the biographical tradition with care, but we should not discard
data just because it represents an inconvenience.
This essay will explore some case studies, asking: What conclusions should we draw from the biographical
evidence? If apparently negative, can we reframe the situation through another Stoic lens? Does this
evidence make a difference to how we should regard
page 1
the success of Stoicism – to use Hadot’s expression in rectifying people’s characters?
Founding Fathers: Zeno and Chrysippus
We know that the early Stoa had been heavily influenced by the figure of Socrates, as an exemplar of
virtuous living, sociability, and humility. Yet Zeno of Citium seems to have been the polar opposite,
personally, of Socrates.
Zeno himself was sour [stugnon – actually defined in the lexicon as ‘hated, abhorred, hateful,
hostile’ and pikron – ‘bitter, cruel, harsh, stern, morose, severe; also hateful, hostile’] and of a
frowning countenance. He was very niggardly [sic, mean, miserly; eutelēs], clinging to
meanness unworthy of a Greek [barbarikēs] (Diogenes Laertius 7.16)
The translation of Diogenes Laertius by R.D. Hicks, from the 1920s, has evidently watered down the sense
here, indicating only mild ill-humor on Zeno’s part. But the Greek is far stronger, to a degree difficult to
convey in English; stugnos means “hated.” The father of Stoicism, then, was actually, at least to some, the
object of visceral loathing. No doubt some of those people were reacting to his judgment of their
1
page 2
Issue 77
A publication of the College of Stoic Philosophers
July 2026
rationality or their morality, and perhaps the feeling was mutual; but surely it is confronting to think of
Zeno as cruel and harsh. The same, however, could undoubtedly be said about other Stoic role-models,
such as the early Cynics, or Cato the Younger, whose uncompromising stances at times invited enemies. It
is perhaps inevitable that people of stern virtue will antagonize many.
We are also told that Zeno disliked physical proximity to others:
He disliked, they say, to be brought too near to people, so that he would take the end seat of a
couch, thus saving himself at any rate from one half of such inconvenience (7.14).
This seems a long way from the spirit of Stoic oikeiōsis, the key principle of bringing others into our
intentional circles of concern. And what about the good emotional states in Stoicism: joy, discretion, and
intentional focus? There seems very little that is positive about this description of Zeno’s personal
interactions; although we should note that from a strictly Stoic viewpoint, in any event, only the Sage
would experience such positive states.
When we come to Chrysippus, once again we find a less than attractive picture.
His opinion of himself was so high that when someone inquired, “To whom shall I entrust my
son?” he replied, “To me: for, if I had dreamt of there being anyone better than myself, I
should myself be studying with him” (7.183).
He appears to have been a very arrogant [huperoptēs] man (7.185).
This picture represents a direct contrast with Socrates, who always claimed that he was unable to teach,
refusing to take payment for his discourse; Chrysippus must have been aware of this tradition. Yet, on the
one hand, few Stoics could afford to teach for free;
page 2
on the other, Socrates had invited criticism for
neglecting his family - one of his key roles from a later Stoic point of view - in putting
himself at risk (Crito 45d). The Socratic precedent, then, could reasonably have been
replaced by more practical considerations.
R.D. Hicks may have watered down less pleasant biographical material, but at least he
included it. Holiday and Hanselman, for their part, fail entirely to mention these less
appealing features, leaning into the “endearingly quirky
professor” image in their potted biographies of Zeno and
Chrysippus. While reporting the quote from Chrysippus about
being the best teacher (p. 47), Holiday and Hanselman omit
Diogenes Laertius’s “very arrogant” description; in fact, they
state the opposite: “Chrysippus [like Cleanthes] was humble”
(p. 45).
Adviser to Caesar
One of our sources about ancient Stoicism is the material
believed to have been prepared by Arius Didymus (first
century BCE), a Stoic philosopher who was a personal adviser
2
page 3
Issue 77
A publication of the College of Stoic Philosophers
July 2026
to Octavian (later Augustus). It was a period of bitter civil war, with campaigns throughout the Roman
world. Shortly after defeating Mark Antony and Cleopatra VII of Egypt in 30 BCE, Octavian entered
Alexandria in triumph. Octavian claimed to wish to spare the great city for the sake of Arius, an
Alexandrian citizen.
Plutarch tells us that the fates of Antony and Cleopatra’s heirs hung in the balance. A son of Antony’s was
brutally put to death. Cleopatra’s children were placed under armed guard. At this juncture, we are told,
Arius gave a cryptic hint: “Too many Caesars is not good.” This was both a witty pun on a line of Homer
about too many leaders, and a reference to Caesarion, Cleopatra’s son with Julius Caesar. Octavian took
this as advice that he should eliminate Caesarion, which within weeks he did (Plutarch 80-2).
A court philosopher in such dangerous times must, no doubt, be realistic; part of his role must have been to
provide cover for what his boss wanted or planned to do anyway. But to recommend – as a joke, no less the coldblooded murder of a teenage potential rival (and notionally a relative, through Octavian’s adoption
by Julius Caesar)? Once again, what would Socrates – who, at least in Plato’s account, maintained that the
rulers who execute and exile and impoverish people, must be unhappy men - have said?
Socrates: It’s because doing what’s unjust is actually the worst thing there is (Gorgias 469b).
In Arius’s defence, he may have been following the more pragmatic approaches outlined by Cicero, whose
work on moral responsibility (drawing partly from works by the Stoic, Panaetius) had explored cases in
which obligations seem opposed. With recent civil violence in mind, Cicero
page 3
had written:
The use of force is quite legitimate in the case of those who have to keep an empire under
control, just as it is right for masters to beat their slaves, if they cannot command obedience
in any other way (2.24).
Cicero’s detailed treatment of the dilemmas facing statesmen indicates the difficulties which Octavian and
his advisers faced. It was certainly no simple matter to navigate the outcomes of civil war, and Octavian –
still young himself – would have been highly unusual among Roman leaders had he achieved a bloodless
takeover in Alexandria.
For their part, Holiday and Hanselman do not attempt to extenuate the matter, admitting “It was [a] dirty
business” (p. 171): surprisingly mild censure, but we should be thankful that they addressed it at all.
Stoic on Stoic
During the 60s CE, the emperor Nero’s increasingly erratic and violent rule erupted in one confrontation
after another. A prominent Stoic philosopher, Publius Egnatius Celer, gave evidence against a Stoic
senator, Barea Soranus, and his daughter Servilia, accused of having been friends with the Stoic-aligned
senator Rubellius Plautus, and of stirring up a revolt in Asia.
Soranus had served as governor of the province of Asia in the early 60s. Nero had ordered one of his
offsiders to plunder the renowned artworks of the great city of Pergamum. Soranus, as well as displaying
energy in opening up the harbour at Ephesus, had disobeyed Nero’s order to punish Pergamum’s aggrieved
citizens (Tacitus, Annals 16.23). This was the pretext for the charge of inciting a revolt.
3
page 4
Issue 77
A publication of the College of Stoic Philosophers
July 2026
The historian Tacitus describes Celer as a fake Stoic:
He presented the grave pose of the Stoic school, trained as he was to show off, in manner and
speech, the very features of integrity, while at heart treacherous, sly, concealing his greed and
passions (Annals 16.31).
To compound the scandal, Celer had been the teacher of Soranus: “Celer had been his teacher in philosophy,
then given evidence against Barea Soranus, thus betraying and profaning the friendship of which he claimed
to be a teacher” (Tacitus, Histories 4.10). Public opinion was outraged, both by Celer’s trashing of the trust
relationship with his student, and also as Soranus was highly respected in his own right. But informers and
accusers had the upper hand in an environment of suspicion; in the end Soranus was condemned to death,
and took his own life.
This injustice was, in due course, remedied, by none other than another Stoic philosopher, Musonius Rufus.
As Tacitus tells it, it was during the tense period following the “year of the four emperors,” in early 70,
when Musonius – only recently returned to Rome from exile – used his status alongside the successful
contender, the Stoic-adjacent Vespasian, to bring an accusation in the senate against Celer (Evans).
For his part, Celer was defended by the respected Cynic philosopher, Demetrius, but Musonius proved the
more persuasive:
Publius [Celer] was condemned, and the spirit of Soranus was honoured…Musonius was held
to have carried through an act of justice, but public opinion took a different view of
Demetrius the Cynic, because he had shown more selfish interest than honourable purpose in
defending Publius, who was manifestly guilty (Histories 4.40).
Public opinion
page 4
notwithstanding, it is a point considerably in Celer’s favor that Demetrius spoke in his
defence. Our main source on Demetrius is none other than Seneca, who had fervently admired him:
Demetrius, the best of men, I carry about with me…I talk with him, half-naked as he is, and hold him in
high esteem. Why should I not hold him in high esteem? I have found that he lacks nothing (Letters
62.3).
Demetrius had also been a friend of the Stoic Thrasea Paetus, present when Thrasea, under
orders from Nero, committed suicide in 66. Whatever people said, then, it is most likely that
Demetrius sought no personal gain in defending Celer: he must genuinely have believed him
worthy of support.
Does the justice brought about by one Stoic, compensate for the injustice committed by another?
Musonius may have been motivated, as well as by the desire to vindicate Soranus personally, to uphold
the reputation of the school: Stoicism itself, in a way, had been on trial during this most difficult of
political times. Musonius’s own principles were never in question: his brief favour with Vespasian was
soon over, and he was exiled yet again during the 70s.
4
page 5
Issue 77
A publication of the College of Stoic Philosophers
July 2026
Conclusions
While it may be disconcerting to recognize that several of the ancient Stoics known to us fell short of the
standards we might expect, we may find a partial answer within Stoic social theory.
The four Stoic roles encompass a large range of variation within the roles each of us occupy, according to
Epictetus:
1. Humans (Discourses 2.10.1-2)
2. A citizen of the world (2.10.3)
3. ‘Professions’ (e.g. family relationships, 2.10.7-8)
4. Official and unofficial positions (2.10.10)
This must, from the start, have entailed the greatest possible diversity among those attracted to the ancient
philosophical school. Some newcomers will have been cheery and easy-going; some shy and introverted;
still others displaying a high opinion of themselves. Stoicism may have particularly attracted men, having
experienced negative results from anger, who sought resources towards more productive interactions, a
dynamic we see today in some Stoic settings.
This tendency might have been particularly pronounced in the school’s pioneers who were attempting to
shape an ambitious new worldview, coherently comprehending virtue, cognition, emotion, theology, and
nature. For Zeno and Chrysippus, steering the boat while still building it, taking hits from rivals all the
while, the challenges must have been intense. If, as seems likely, they were men of morose tendencies and a
pronounced intellectual and combative bent, perhaps it was too much also to expect them to interact with
the friendliness and humility of Socrates. “After all,” they might have said, “Socrates never started a
school” - a reflection which might only have caused Socrates, by now buttonholing some unsuspecting
interlocutor in the Elysian Fields, to
page 5
smile.
It seems evident enough that Arius Didymus and Publius Egnatius Celer may, at some stage in their
distinguished careers, have become distorted in their perceptions of their roles. We cannot imagine
Musonius Rufus, Epictetus, or Marcus Aurelius counselling the murder, prosecution, or exile of blameless
people. Yet part of the answer, as we have seen in considering Arius, is the tightrope to be walked by
leaders attempting to end a bloody civil war.
Another aspect must be that power and influence are very seductive, and that there are few people who saw
this as clearly as Socrates had done. In the Apology, he explains that his guardian spirit, his daimon, advised
him not to seek public office, correctly, as he knows he would have been killed if he had entered the public
sphere (31c-d). The only occasion on which he had done so, Socrates had refused to go along with
oligarchic vengeance against an innocent man, Leon of Salamis (32c-d).
After Socrates, only the Sage would in all particulars fulfil the Stoic template. And, after all, we ourselves
are in the same position as all the other faulty Stoics: falling well short of perfect reasoning, perfect
understanding, and perfect virtue.
As Marcus continued, following the section quoted early in this essay:
5
page 6
Issue 77
A publication of the College of Stoic Philosophers
July 2026
But, above all, when you find fault with someone for lack of fidelity or gratitude, turn and
look at yourself, because the fault was plainly yours. In the first instance, your mistake was to
have trusted a man with such a character not to let you down; in the second, you failed to do
the favor for its own sake, on the assumption that you would immediately reap your full
reward just from the action itself. If you’ve done someone good, what more do you want?
Aren’t you satisfied with having acted in conformity with your nature? Do you want
remuneration as well? It’s as if the eyes sought compensation for seeing or the feet for
walking (9.42).
As so often, when we are ready to blame others, we should most carefully examine our own role in
whatever the matter may have been. Such experiences are always opportunities to improve our own
responses.
This, after all, is the only recourse we have. We cannot change the other person, who, for whatever reason,
did what seemed good to him; the only person we can transform is our self, through the “spiritual exercises”
which Hadot insisted lay at the heart of ancient philosophy. These include the kind of regular reminders,
which Marcus wrote to himself, about how the cosmos is, and how people – even in the Stoic community are.
Above all, they include the attitude which Marcus endeavoured to instil in himself: of radical gratitude for
whatever the gods have provided. The problem of “Stoics behaving badly” is not with Stoicism, but with
our own shortcomings in the art of living. We do not blame the art of painting for the unimpressive, if not
downright poor, efforts sometimes produced by artists: nor, then, is philosophy at fault for the unsurprising
fact that its
page 6
adherents at times act amiss.
Finally, we may look elsewhere at times for our good examples in living. The most influential of Marcus
Aurelius’s role models made no pretensions to being a Stoic, a philosopher, or any kind of intellectual:
Antoninus Pius. Like Socrates, Antoninus – had it occurred to him – would have disclaimed any moral or
personal authority; yet his perceptive Caesar could see how truly excellent a leader he was: a teacher
through his attitudes and actions, rather than in lectures or books.
References
Primary
Cicero (1967). Cicero On Moral Obligation: A New Translation of Cicero’s De Officiis. (John
Higginbotham, trans.) Faber and Faber.
Diogenes Laertius (1970, reprint of 1925). Lives of Eminent Philosophers. (R.D. Hicks, trans.) Loeb
Classical Library, vol. II.
Epictetus (2014). Discourses, Fragments, Handbook. (Robin Hard, trans.) Oxford University Press.
Marcus Aurelius (2021). Meditations: The Annotated Edition. (Robin Waterfield, trans.) Basic Books.
6