Stoic
STOW-ick
noun, adjective
n. A follower of the Greek school of philosophy founded by Zeno
a. Characterised by a calm, austere fortitude
We might call this part two of I Wish I Had a Classics Degree. Part one dealt with cynicism.
Stoicism has had something of a renaissance in recent years, being co-opted as it has by the burgeoning wellness industry. A cursory browse through the shelves at any large bookshop (or your online retailer of choice) will reveal titles such as The Daily Stoic, The Little Book of Stoicism, Stoicism and the Art of Happiness, The Beginner’s Guide to Stoicism and, of course, Meditations by the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius.
The reason behind these books’ popularity is that Stoicism, from its foundations in the early 3rd century BCE, was always designed to be a very practical philosophy; not so much an abstract meditation on the immortal soul or the nature of beauty but an actual, applicable way for people to live their lives. Something of this spirit of practicality lives on in these sorts of books.
I don’t have the philosophical training, space or indeed patience to delve into the details of Stoic philosophy, but a quick whistle-stop tour of the basics will allow me to explain how the word escaped from its Greek history to take on its modern meaning.
One of the key ‘teachings’ of Stoicism is what has been dubbed by later authors the ‘Dichotomy of Control’. What this means, basically is that:
There are some things in life over which we have control, and others over which we have no control.
Things we can control include our thoughts, judgements and actions.
Things we cannot control should be met with acceptance, as worrying about things we cannot change is futile.
This is tied in with what has become known as ‘amor fati’ (‘love of fate’). Stoicism is an essentially deterministic strand of philosophy, meaning that the universe operates according to some grand predetermined plan, and that everything that happens is part of that plan. Since this plan cannot be changed by mere mortals such as ourselves, stoics advocate for an austere fortitude in the face of whatever life brings, both good and bad, even going as far as arguing for a positive embrace of life’s ups and downs, seeing challenges and misfortunes as an opportunity to practise virtue - which here means living in accordance with reason and nature.
This austere fortitude in the face of life’s vicissitudes - I think of the late Queen sitting alone at the funeral of Prince Phillip - is where the word’s more modern meaning comes from. Etymologically ‘stoic’ is from the Greek word ‘stoa’, meaning ‘porch’ or ‘portico’, and refers specifically to the Stoa Poikile or ‘painted porch’ where Zeno taught in Athens.