“The foolishness of people who are surprised by anything that happens. Like travelers amazed at foreign customs.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 12.13
Our world seems to be careening off its axis.
Our indomitable economic engine is making alarming noises, generations-old alliances are crumbling, and many politicial givens turned out to be nothing of the sort.
We should be skeptical of our assumptions about how things will turn out, but it’s perfectly rational to think we may not love what fate has in store for us. Maybe life will simply be less good than it could easily be.
If you’re indignant that we’ve been handed this steaming pile to live through, it’s understandable, but also a position born of ignorance. No student of history would be surprised by any of this.
“But Andrew!” I hear you say.
Our leaders are horrible and have been getting worse for fifty years!
The other side is a wretched hive of scum and villany! They’ve squandered our inheritance.
Many of these problems could have been prevented!
Yes, and that’s par for the course.
When Francis Fukuyama dialed the hubris up to 11 and declared “The End of History,” in 1992 — that liberal values, political norms, and free trade had prevailed and the days of ideological upheaval were fading, it boggles the mind how seriously people took him.
History is a chronicle of calm spells ended by storms, of golden ages and stability undermined by human folly and black swans.
But even Fukuyama’s claim wasn’t new. In vastly different times Thomas More, Friedrich Hegel, Georg Wilhelm, and others argued that either the end state was nigh or was entirely feasible to implement. All of them spoke too soon or were operating on assumptions that look laughable in retrospect.
Though I distrust the maximlism of the statement — and we can all think of many counterexamples — there’s some truth in this bandied-about claim:
“Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, weak men create hard times."
Its kernel of truth is this — its incredibly hard to transmit the hardest lessons to your heirs — or at least a critical mass of them — if they haven’t experienced the lessons firsthand. If they’re unscarred by folly, folly’s appeal will call out like a siren on the rocks. Folly is seductive — the quick fix, expedience over process, or just plain ignoring the lessons of the past because it’s convenient. There’s a reason why the same mistakes seduce each age anew.
Our faltering bubble of prosperity and stability emerged from a scarred and traumatized world. Three generations watched economic policy madness create the suffering of the Great Depression. They saw the carnage of modern warfare in WWI and how leaders took away the wrong lessons and set the stage for more madness. They fought again in WWII to end what emerged from the power vacuum their leaders abdicated. The post-war world was far from perfect, but those generations learned a few things to not do, and they mostly didn’t do them. And now almost all of them are six feet under, and we’re busy doing exactly those things like they’re wonderful innovations.
That past generations failed to inculate these lessons into their heirs — in us — may not be their failing so much as human nature, given that history is full of these lessons-forgotten scenarios.
Given this reality, we don’t want to be these people:
“Let those people go on weeping and wailing whose self-indulgent minds have been weakened by long prosperity, let them collapse at the threat of the most trivial injuries; but let those who have spent all their years suffering disasters endure the worst afflictions with a brave and resolute staunchness. Everlasting misfortune does have one blessing, that it ends up by toughening those whom it constantly afflicts.” — Seneca, Consolation of Helvia
The ancient Stoics believed that while mankind often forgot, it was within anyone’s power to learn critical lessons and be very well prepared for what fate throws at us.
One: Be Prepared
“For inexpert minds, a large portion of their misfortune lies in the novelty of it.”
— Seneca, Letters, 76
The quickest way to find peace — whatever happens — is to simply expect various misfortunes and plan out your responses — premeditatio malorum, or as business people say, “conducting a premortem.”
We should always be reminding ourselves that the good things in life could be gone tomorrow, which breeds gratitude and appreciation. This is not about staying anxious, but rather excellence and resilience.
I outline how to do this without going overboard and stepping into anxiety here:
Two: Thriving Amid Flux
How to thrive amid uncertainty and anxiety is one of the best lessons Stoicism taught me. It’s allowed me to get through hard health problems and work stress without losing my mind.
If you make these ideas a part of your life through study and the memory arts, your response to life not going your way will be automatically helpful — or at least better than the status quo.
I talk about my approach to work stress here, but it applies to external flux as well.
Three: Whetstones Sharpen What Grinds Against Them
“Forget the future. When and if it comes, you’ll have the same resources to draw on—the same reason.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 7.8
We often dread the future as if we’ll be too impotent to respond to the unpleasant things it brings us. Yet we’ve survived all past misfortunes through our abilities — through the application of reason in the moment. We should assume we’ll have that same reason tomorrow. We will survive through it.
This reframe should be loaded into our subconscious at all times:
“Oh no! The world’s going to hell!”
“Perhaps. If it does, I’ll survive it like I’ve survived everything else. I can adapt. I can grow.”
And growth is an underappreciated aspect of hardship.
Every misfortune is an opportunity. We’ve been issued an invitation from the universe to become a better, more capable person.
The only real question: will we accept it and rise to the occasion, or reject it and sink into the mire? Will we wallow or will we grow?
How might we grow? Most problems have solutions. Goals might be reached from multiple avenues. So, a setback is an opportunity to learn new skills or think outside the box.
But in the unlikely event in which we can’t do anything to overcome our situation, we can still grow through virtue, that great happiness enabler.
Because what inescapable fate doesn’t present us with the ability to better dial in wisdom, justice, courage, and moderation?
And so, as Epictetus told Arrian so long ago:
“On the occasion of every accident that befalls you, remember to turn to yourself and inquire what power you have for turning it to use…And if you have been thus formed to the (proper) habit, the appearances will not carry you along with them.”
— Epictetus, Enchiridion, 10
Thanks for reading Socratic State of Mind.
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Great insights. The inversion of your first recommendation of staring at what you can lose is esential!