Stoic Political Activism

This blog post was originally published on The Stoic Student

Written by Andrew Kuttain

Like many of you, I’ve watched what’s happening in the world with concern and conflict. Protests in America, India & Russia, a pandemic killing hundreds of thousands, the ultra-rich exploiting chaos for profit. It’s been… brutal, to say the least.

It doesn’t take long for the dreaded, limiting thought to seep into our minds: what can I do? These problems are too big for me. I can’t help much.

What complicates this further is a core lesson of the philosophy we live by. That we must let go of what is out of our control, and accept what happens in life.

This stoic principle is a fundamental part of how we see the world and engage with it. And it’s an important principle to live by.

But I think we’ve got it wrong. Atleast slightly.

These principles laid out by Stoic thinkers of the past call on us to let go of the need to control whatever is out of our control. And to live by what’s called “Amor Fati” a “love of fate” (or to embrace what the outcome is, regardless of its impact). These are good principles. But they only work in context, and in the case of our political world, context is important.

But what context? What is the world we live in, and how do these principles fit into it?

Our world is… Complex. Constant bombardments of progress and setbacks mixed with stagnation. Conflict on one end, happiness on the other. On top of that, we’re just one person in a sea of faces. A drop in the ocean.

What can we do, when so much of what determines life exists outside of our capabilities? We can’t control the mob. The politicians. The weather.

A good environment for apathy, huh?

But the Stoics weren’t apathetic. Nor does this philosophy call for apathy.

It does call for apatheia, a state of mind in which one isn’t influenced or disturbed by passion.

This is different from apathy, as apathy is a lack of care for what’s going on around you. A way of “checking out”. Apatheia calls for stability in the face of chaos and ensuring emotions and passions don’t rule your conduct. To accept what is happening, then decide your next steps rationally.

This difference is extremely important, because, as paradoxical as it may seem, stability in the face of chaos is partially required in order to overcome that chaos and make the changes we desperately need.

Back to the control dichotomy. The stoics call for us to focus on what we can control. As Epictetus directs us:

“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will.”

Sure. All fine & dandy. We know this. However, they also call on us to stand up for what is right. To help each other, because that is our duty as people. Or as Marcus Aurelius said: “Revere the gods, and look after each other. Life is short — the fruit of this life is a good character and acts for the common good.”

This idea the stoics share with us — to look after each other and help one another — is expressed through acts of virtue: namely justice (and with it, truth), as well as courage (the willingness to stand up for what is right, no matter how scary). To the stoics, living by these virtues is part of our duty as people. Part of the stoic “code” so to speak.

Engagement is, then, part of our identity. As a citizen, as a friend, as a human being. That duty was bestowed upon us when we entered this world, and it stays with us until we exit it.

Letting go of what’s out of our control is a wonderful strategy to handle the anxieties and frustrations of life. But it is only part of the solution. It must be contrasted with the belief that we, as just peoples, have the moral obligation to stand up for what is right and against what is wrong. To help one another.

That is in our control. It always has been. It always will be.

Only when we stand up for what is right, can we let go of what is out of our control: because we are living in accordance with what is just. What is right. What the Stoics would call nature. Providence.

We are not in control of what politicians say or do. We are not in control of the wildfires. But we are in control of whether or not we speak up. Of how we respond to a crisis. Of who we cast our votes for. And of when, and how, we hold them to account.

There are many examples of people who stood up for what was right, no matter how unpopular and focused primarily on what they could do.

Martin Luther King Jr., who led civil rights movements despite threats of violence (and sometimes actual violence).

Fannia, who opposed Nero and his autocratic rule (she never shrunk from the threats and carried sacred texts with her into exile).

Or the millions of individuals who wake up every morning, despite the bleakest of circumstances, prepared to live and die by what is right.

But this is a long-winded answer. Truthfully, the question of “how would a stoic face political activism with so much out of their control” can be summarized in two sentences by one of stoicism’s notable philosophers (and a political figure himself): Marcus Aurelius.

“Just that you do the right thing. The rest doesn’t matter.”

Cura ut valeas.