The Stoic Threefold Path to Knowledge
How does a philosopher grow wiser?
In the second half of his Meditations, the great Stoic philosopher and Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius, offered a brief curriculum for the cultivation of knowledge:
Devote yourself to understanding your own mind, the universal mind, and the mind of your fellow man. Concentrate on yourself and forge a just mind. Reflect on the universal mind to remind yourself that you have a place in something that is greater than yourself. Explore your neighbor’s mind in order to discern whether he is ignorant or wise, but always remember that your mind shares the same qualities. — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 9.22
While it might appear that his counsel — probe one’s mind, the universal mind, and the thoughts of those around us — is arranged in an arbitrary order and might be of questionable value, Aurelius has neatly summarized great wisdom in a couple of pithy lines. If you seek wisdom, if you aspire to greater understanding of the reality you inhabit, you could do far worse than follow the emperor’s counsel.
Self-knowledge
The exhortation “know thyself” was one of the three maxims inscribed on the entrance to the Greek Oracle at Delphi. Throughout the Meditations, Marcus emphasizes the importance of critical self-reflection. As humans, the natural starting point for any philosophical investigation is ourselves — a point Aurelius emphasizes in this passage with the reflexive Greek pronoun seautos (‘yourself’).
Why do we do the things we do? Why do we maintain the beliefs that shape our days? To what extent do we live up to our loftiest virtues? How and why do we fall short of our ideals?
Knowledge begins at home: we cannot interpret the cosmos around us until we have critically appraised our own minds and understanding. Socrates deemed this task so important that he remarked “the unexamined life is not worth living” (Plato, Apology, 38A5–6). The cultivation of self-knowledge, is essential if one is to pursue the good life. The gift of reason separates us from the lower animals. If we refuse to exercise this amazing quality, if we stumble through life on autopilot — never thinking seriously about who we are, what we believe, and why we believe — then how have we distinguished ourselves from the cow who stands in a field all day chewing grass?
The sage must practice introspection. Daily meditation upon our strengths, our weaknesses, the moments in which we lived well and those in which we fell short of the mark, is an essential first step toward knowledge.
Know God
Introspection requires balance. Too much time spent in self-contemplation will drag us into a narcissistic whirlpool, a hopeless hall of mirrors which places us at the center of the cosmos. It is essential that we counterbalance our self-obsession with the realization that we are a minuscule part of an infinitely larger reality. Reflection on a greater power provides a moral compass and cultivates humility.
Stoicism’s particular genius is its ability to harmonize with a wide range of beliefs about a higher power(s). A monotheist is as welcome in the system as a polytheist, or indeed, even an atheist. Like most Stoics, Marcus refuses to define the nature of the higher power. In the Meditations, he employs a variety of terms to describe the divine: gods, a god, Zeus, Nature, or divine reason. His lack of dogmatism extends to considering the possibility that there is no higher power at all, and that we are, as the Epicureans taught, nothing more than the product of chance and the random collisions of atoms.
Although Marcus resists the urge to specify the nature of the divine, he does suggest that reality coheres and is given its shape by a providential force — whether that is a personal god that takes an interest in us, or an impersonal guiding force. What is essential, Marcus argues, is to recognize the existence of something greater than oneself, to employ reason and observation to understand the essential nature of that force, and to commit to bringing one’s life into harmony with the superior power. Marcus insists that we are all part of a larger whole. Our duty as Stoic sages is to play the role that the divinity has designed for us. We are actors in a celestial drama, and even though our parts are extremely small, we each contribute something to the production.
It is essential that we learn our lines.
Contemplation of a higher power cultivates a sense of humility. It disabuses us of the absurd, although all-too-common, notion that we stand at the center of the cosmos. We are dwarfed by the numinous, just as a person walking along a beach can be overwhelmed by the apparently endless roll of waves crashing ashore. Millions of years before we existed, waves just like these beat against the shore. Millions of years after our atoms have completely disassociated, the surf will continue to seethe. We are inconsequential in comparison. Eternity is written into the sands beneath our feet; contemplation and recognition of these truths disabuse us of the notion that we stand at the center of the grand sweep of the cosmos. For Marcus and the Stoics, the heavens proclaim the glory of God. They point to the divinity that possesses the power to create a cosmos that reduces us to insignificance.
For the Stoic, whether a believer in a personal god or in nothing at all, contemplation of our true insignificance in the cosmos is humbling and essential.
Know Your Neighbor
If we are all actors in a cosmic play, then clearly those around us also have a part. Marcus roots his third quest for knowledge in the study of others. We are not alone in this world, and those who touch our lives have much to teach — as both positive and negative examples.
Marcus’ clear-eyed approach to interpersonal relationships is one of the most beguiling aspects of his teaching. He recognizes that some people are wise and some are not. Although he advocates empathy for all, he does not suggest that we should agree with everyone we encounter. Our social interactions might force us into contact with people who we would rather avoid. As he writes,
In the morning, say to yourself: ‘Today I will meet people who are busybodies, unpleasant, treacherous, slanderers, and antisocial. These people behave this way because they do not understand the difference between good and evil.’
–Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 2.1.
Although Marcus does not regard these negative behaviors as laudatory or worth emulating, he does not discount those who are mired in these qualities. Everyone, even those who are unremittingly negative, are part of the greater plan. They balance the sage and are as indispensable as the lower row of teeth is to the upper. The jaw cannot chew food without both rows; the ignorant and the wise both participate in a greater plan.
Those who are ignorant, boorish, and brutish teach the sage the behaviors to avoid. They point to the good by the absence of it in their lives. At the opposite end of the spectrum are the wise, who stand as beacons, shedding light on our path and emanating the positive virtues that grant savor to life. First time readers of the Meditations may find themselves perplexed by the hall of fame that makes up most of the first book. In this lengthy recitation, Marcus explains the qualities he learned from those people who were around him, as well as from those who left literary records of their thoughts. Diognetus taught him to avoid trivial endeavors; Maximus taught him self-control; Alexander dissuaded Marcus from finding fault. Each person contributed something that shaped the future emperor’s soul. Book One documents the fruits harvested through the study of others. Observation of the neighbor produces wisdom that can be applied to our own life.
In the end, the three paths of knowledge intertwine, illuminating and reinforcing each other. The study of others provides a standard for the emendation of our own life. Contemplation of the divine plan as expressed through the world’s religions and the natural order, produces humility and emphasizes our shortcomings and strengths. The three domains of knowledge combine to create a foundation for a useful and productive life.
Note: All translations of Marcus Aurelius are my own.
