How the Ancient Stoics Can Help Millennials
How Stoicism Can Help Millennials:
The English word “stoical” does a severe injustice to the rich tradition of Stoicism, a philosophical school founded by Zeno of Citium circa 320 B.C.E. and which flourished in ancient Greece and Rome. Many of us associate this philosophy with the extreme suppression of emotions—as if the goal were to become an unfeeling, human-like stone. The truth is that Stoicism is a life-affirming philosophy that teaches us how to derive more long-term joy and fulfillment. I recently finished Dr. William Irvine’s brilliant Guide to Good Life: The Ancient Stoic Art of Joy on Audible and realized that Stoicism, far from advocating numbness and detachment, offers psychological techniques to facilitate greater contentment, and indeed, joy.
The Stoics were obsessed with the question “What makes a good life?” More than any other ancient school of philosophy, the Stoics pondered the nature of human fulfillment—how to achieve what they termed eudaimonia, a deep and abiding state of contentment and mental tranquility. For the Stoics, living a good life required discipline, reflection, and even an element of strategic thinking. Moreover, the risk of “misliving,” squandering one’s years chasing misguided goals, was quite real.
Millennials, especially those of us in wealthy, Western societies, could use a good dose of Stoic wisdom more than ever. We moderns face a strange paradox. Our lives are bedazzled with wonders, thrills, comforts, and luxuries that kings and sultans of the past—let alone our humbler ancestors—could not have imagined in their wildest dreams. But are we any happier as a result? The evidence points to the contrary. In the 21st century, rates of depression, suicide, and general dissatisfaction are rising, especially among young people. Why is psychological health deteriorating as the general standard of living seems to be rising dramatically?
The 21st century offers undeniable enhancements to the human condition—limitless information at our fingertips; relative freedom from the toils and dangers that bedeviled our ancestors; and technological marvels that fulfill our biological, intellectual, and even spiritual and romantic needs. But such advancements also make the risk of misliving higher than ever: we live in states of perpetual sensory over-saturation, with little time for reflection and introspection; accustomed to having all our needs and wants to be satisfied quickly, we have forgotten how to delay gratification; above all else, we lack guiding principles and overarching goals to give our lives meaning, i.e., a philosophy of life.
The Stoic masters discovered nothing less than how to hack the human psyche to cultivate greater joy and tranquility and to eliminate toxic modes of thinking. The advice and techniques they offered 25 centuries ago are just as relevant and useful today—if not more so.
Train Your Mind for Happiness:
Modern psychology tells us that happiness is contingent on how we perceive ourselves in comparison with our peers. We judge our lot as abundant or impoverished not in absolute terms but in relative terms. To be satisfied, we must have more than our neighbors. Moreover, once we achieve our goals, satisfaction is fleeting; we quickly reach for even high-hanging fruit, comparing ourselves to and competing with even more elite and accomplished peers. We take for granted the accomplishments and good things that we previously worked hard to obtain—and thought would bring lasting satisfaction.
The Stoics recognized these psychological traps and contended that abiding happiness comes through training our minds to want what we already have. Chasing ever loftier goals is a fools’ errand, as the top of the mountain is forever receding. Instead of relentlessly reaching higher, we should learn to deepen our gratitude for the good things already present. We can employ a simple but remarkably powerful technique called “negative visualization” to train our minds to delay the process of taking our blessings for granted.
The first part of the technique is to take stock of the good things we already have—both tangibles like home, hearth, and loved ones and intangibles like health and security. Then we are to imagine—the more vividly the better—that these things were to suddenly disappear. Imagine the nightmare scenario of having lost, say, your health or financial security. Then simply remember that you have these boons—at least for now. Although telling yourself “It could be worse” seems like cold comfort, this type of visualization really does take some of the sting out of life’s disappointments, like romantic, social, or professional sorrows. The Stoics, like Buddhists, emphasized that all is transitory, and negative visualization, in addition to deepening feelings of gratitude and satisfaction, prepares us for the actual losses we will inevitably face.
Shun Fame as an Illusion:
Jim Carey famously quipped, “I wish everybody would become famous…so they would see that it’s not the answer.” The Stoic masters would have agreed wholeheartedly with the contemplative comedian. In the age of social media, yearnings for public validation, what Marcus Aurelius shunned as “the clacking of tongues,” is at an all-time high. We millennials broadcast our professional achievements on LinkedIn and carefully craft sugar-coated versions of our lives on Instagram and Snapchat. Adding to the neurosis, counting followers and likes encourages us to compare our own “fame” to that of our peers. In fact, studies demonstrate that social media addiction has the same impact on our brains as drug addiction.
Fame undermines eudemonia in the long run because it enslaves us to the whims and expectations of our admirers (or Instagram followers). When happiness becomes contingent on applause and commendation from others—when we “tie our well-being to what other people say and do,” as Marcus says—we set ourselves up for crushing disappointments when the audience turns against us or simply loses interest. Even worse, obsessing over fame becomes consuming, pulling us out of the present and into pointless worrying.
If you’re still unconvinced, remember that all fame is fleeting in the grand scheme of things. Just like we don’t care about celebrities from 1921, nobody will care who was famous now in another century. Marcus, a rare exception who did achieve fame across the centuries, recognized that even those at the pinnacle of celebrity eventually fade into oblivion: “People who are excited by fame forget that the people who remember them will soon die too. And those after them in turn. Until their memory, passed from one to another like a candle flame, gutters and goes out.”
Instead of seeking fame, strive to do the best work possible for the sake of self-respect. While the opinions of the masses are ultimately overrated, doing your best work—whether you’re a businessperson, artist, teacher, writer, or in any other occupation—is rewarding in and of itself. Whereas fame equates to psychological fetters, the self-respect gained through living well and working hard is an essential ingredient of eudemonia.
Be an Anti-Connoisseur:
Worldliness and connoisseurship are powerful status symbols among millennials. A discerning palette for travel, food, or leisure activities equates to social capital and perceived sophistication. We even pride ourselves in reaching such peaks of sophistication as to be able to sneer at the commonplace: Why would anyone want to go to Florida over an obscure island in Southeast Asia? What kind of philistine would prefer a burger over a meal at a hyper-regional Thai restaurant?
The Stoics understood that striving to set a higher and higher bar for satisfaction is absurd. What we should strive to cultivate is the opposite of connoisseurship: the ability to thoroughly relish the commonplace. Seneca, one of the greatest Stoic writers, asserted that he had trained himself to enjoy a humble meal of barley cakes and water more than a gourmand enjoyed a feast of fine wine and luxury fare. We can apply this logic beyond food. Rather than go to an exotic country, why not learn how to replicate the thrill of travel in a new neighborhood in your own city? Instead of seeking ever more complex and refined ways of having fun, why not learn to entertain yourself by simply lying down and observing the clouds?
Look Forward to the Autumn of Life:
While modern society views aging at best as an embarrassment and at worst a catastrophe, Seneca argued that, with perspective and emotional maturity, our best years are actually after the blush of youth fades: “Let us cherish and love old age; for it is full of pleasure if one knows how to use it. Fruits are most welcome when almost over; youth is most charming at its close; the last drink delights the [drinker].”
Eudemonia, Seneca claimed, is more elusive in our younger years because we relentlessly grasp sex, status, and the fulfillment of our ambitions. As the fires of youth gradually cool, we stop reaching for more and learn to rest on our laurels. When the drive for self-improvement and longings for name and fame subside, we can finally commence in earnest the inner work to become a Stoic sage. Only once the hurried young man metamorphoses into the reflective elder can he stand back in awe at the world’s beauty and mystery.
While the contemplative resignation of middle age is preferable to the whirlwind of youth, the Stoics contended that suicide is preferable to the sharp decline of extreme old age, once the mind is shattered and we become burdens to our loved ones. Mirroring a classic Buddhist analogy in the Lotus Sutra, Epictetus, a Roman slave-cum-philosopher, compares life to a burning house: “If the smoke is moderate, I’ll stay. If too much, I exit. For you must always remember and hold fast to this, that the door is open.” (Discourses I.25.18) There does come a point when life is no longer worth living, and rather than wait around for the prolonged, bitter end, the Stoic sage leaves through the “open door” with his dignity intact.
Plan for a Good Death:
The Stoics considered facing death as the ultimate test of resolve and character. Learning how to maintain tranquility in the face of life’s adversities is mere training for a good death. The Stoics would have agreed with Leonardo Da Vinci that “just as a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death.” Those who live well pass away peacefully, but those who misuse their years have little recourse against the terror of death.
The Stoics were agnostic about an afterlife, but they recommended pondering the imminence of death to appreciate our earthly days more deeply. Pondering the inevitability of death protects against passing through life mindlessly. Consider, for example, when enjoying a beautiful sunset, that it could be the last sunset you will ever enjoy. One sunset will, in fact, be your last. When you say goodbye to loved ones, keep in mind that it may be the last time you see them; express affection accordingly. When we are cognizant of death, we can join Marcus in “Arising in the morning [and] thinking of what a precious privilege it is to be alive—to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.”
