The Ugly Way Marcus Aurelius and the Stoics Found Peace

That thing is not what you think it is

Things don’t corrupt us, but wanting them can.

Stoics aren’t monkish Cynics and are happy to enjoy the finer things if their acquisition doesn’t require vice. But they know seeking and utilizing wealth, luxury, and prestige can take us into minefields.

Their strategy for escaping this trap is ugly, and the squeamish will balk. But it works.

The Stoic philosopher Epictetus spoke of the balancing act required to skillfully chase external things:

“It is difficult to combine and bring together those things – the carefulness of one devoted to material things, and the steadiness of one who is indifferent to them – but it is not impossible; otherwise happiness would be impossible.” — Epictetus, Discourses, 2.5.9

Because money, goods, power, and prestige can cause stupid or immoral behavior and misery, the Stoics developed a suite of exercises broadly called “decomposition.” They rid us of desires interfering with happiness and virtue, and can be used as part of a philosophic journaling practice or on the fly in your head.

Decomposition puts desired things “in their place,” so we see them for what they are, eroding their mystique.

The idea is to break desires into their constituent parts. Many desires seem sordid or pathetic in this light, even if the Overton window says they’re fine. Many find Horace’s wedge a more palatable skill because using decomposition to “strip away the legend that encrusts them,” as the Roman emperor and philosopher Marcus Aurelius said, forces us to acknowledge the uncomfortable delusions driving us.

Decompose Physical Desires:

Here’s Marcus Aurelius using and explaining the technique in Meditations:

“Like seeing roasted meat and other dishes in front of you and suddenly realizing: This is a dead fish. A dead bird. A dead pig. Or that this noble [wine] vintage is grape juice, and the purple robes are sheep wool dyed with shellfish blood. Or making love—something rubbing against your penis, a brief seizure and a little cloudy liquid.

Perceptions like that—latching onto things and piercing through them, so we see what they really are. That’s what we need to do all the time—all through our lives when things lay claim to our trust—to lay them bare and see how pointless they are, to strip away the legend that encrusts them.

Pride is a master of deception: when you think you’re occupied in the weightiest business, that’s when he has you in his spell.” — Meditations, 6.13.

If you’re creative, you can come up with a version of decomposition that works for most things we’ve placed on a pedestal.

The Steak Dinner You’re Craving: The product of a cow stuffed into a feedlot where it can’t turn around and stands in a pile of its own shit. The conditions are unhygienic enough that a stream of antibiotics is required to keep it alive. The painful dehorning, castration, and shoddy slaughter practices mean the suffering is immense. When you order meat or buy milk, that’s what you’re a part of.

The Luxury Clown Car You Desire: If you combine disdain with decomposition, you might imagine an adult talking to a tantrum-throwing toddler angry because he doesn’t have a convertible They might use baby talk: “Oh, you want a little cary car to go vroom vroom? Isn’t that so cute. You want to rev your engine while you sit in traffic? You want everyone to look at you?”

Or our sage might simply lay it out: it’s pathetic to enslave yourself for the five-year term of a loan, selling your precious time for a thing serving its function no better than a less expensive vehicle. Because that’s what a loan for a fancy car is — a kind of self-willed slavery. If you’ve got money, that’s another question.

The Stoic philosopher Seneca explains:

“How contemptible are the things we admire – like children who regard every toy as a thing of value, who prefer a necklace bought for a few pennies to their own parents or their brothers. What, then, as Aristo says, is the difference between us and them, except that we elders go crazy over paintings and sculpture, making our folly more expensive?” — Seneca, Letters on Ethics, 115.8

Decompose People You’ve Put on Pedestals:

“What are they like when they’re eating, sleeping, copulating, defecating, and so on? What are they like when they’re being imperious and arrogant, or angrily scolding others from some position of superiority? A little while ago they were slaves, and doing all those things just named; and soon they will be again.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 10.19

Decompose Desire for Fame or Admiration:

“Who does not willingly exchange health, tranquility, and life itself for reputation and glory – the most useless, worthless, and counterfeit coin that circulates among us?” — Montaigne, Of Solitude (1580)

“What then is to be valued? The clapping of hands? No. Nor should we value the clapping of tongues, for that is the praise of the masses.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.16.2

The Right Play

Decomposition is just one play in the playbook of the all-important game of life. It may or may not be the best fit for you, but there are plays that will work.

Keep experimenting till you find success.