Stoicism is not doctrine, not religion; it is, in the purest sense, a philosophy. Stoicism does not have a holy book, and has no centralized authority. Stoicism does not have a morality code in the sense most religions and many philosophies define morality. What Stoicism does have is a set of core ideals, and if you intend to be a true Stoic adherent, you must incorporate them into your life—without exception. Notably, these principles do not define morality, they define virtue, and as a result, ethical behavior. Stoicism rises above simple morality and has little concern for mortality in-and-of-itself, but rather Stoicism targets virtue as the highest good, with morality simply being the result of living a virtuous life. Similarly, Stoicism makes no promise of happiness, and cares little for its pursuit. Instead, Stoicism sees happiness as a result and by product of a virtuous life, aligned with Stoic logos.
One of the most defining characteristics of Stoicism, unlike all religion and most behavioral belief systems, is that it does not seek to remake the follower into a single mold; rather, it asks you to fit virtuously it into your mold. Religion and doctrine asks us to alter who we are to conform to doctrine. Stoicism asks you to be who you already are, but do so with restraint Stoically through regular mental and physical training to be a more virtuous version of you. The Stoic does not subscribe to “you do you, I do me,” but rather says, given who I am, how can I be a more virtuous version of myself, even if contrary to my impulses? Stoicism seeks to align who you are with whom you should be, virtuously.
Looking at the classic Stoics, you can see this individualism in action. The classic Stoics ranged from slaves and laborers to warriors and emperors. Each adapted Stoic thought to their life and reality. None contradicted the others in any fundamental way, and each in turned learned from the previous. Above all, all respected the core principles. Notable examples:
Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, was purely focused on virtue as the highest good and was reportedly uncompromising in this view. All actions and thoughts must serve virtue, or they are invalid.
“Man conquers the world by conquering himself.”—Zeno, reported by Diogenes Laertius
Seneca, an advisor to Emperor Nero, was practical, psychological, and self-examining, focusing on mastering emotions, especially anger, fear, and grief. Seneca’s brand of Stoicism was highly practical, with good being the result of virtuous actions in practical application, not in theory.
“Philosophy teaches us to act, not to speak.”—Seneca, Letters to Lucilius, 20.2
Epictetus, slave turned sage, was disciplined and uncompromising in his razor-edge Stoicism. Mastery of will and strict control of judgment must be absolute. Whereas Seneca focused on the practical, Epictetus lived in almost pure theory made manifest through force of will.
“You may fetter my leg, but not even Zeus can fetter my will.”—Epictetus, Discourses 1.1.23
Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor, focused on duty, endurance, and loving your fate (or at least accepting it), whatever that may happen to be. He blended theory and practice expertly in Stoic fashion to rule justly.
“You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.36
In each case, each man followed Stoic ideals, both within the life they lived and the life they wished to live. None compromised in the Stoic ideals themselves, but each applied the ideals differently to their circumstances. In this way, Stoicism distinguishes itself as guide, not doctrine. Stoicism is the light on the path, not necessarily the path itself, and the source of that light is virtue, the highest Stoic ideal.
Virtue in the Stoic sense is the perfection of reason in action with consistent alignment of the soul with nature, in every thought, choice, and deed. Virtue is achieved through obeying the four primary Stoic ideals, known as the cardinal virtues.
Wisdom (σοφία): The knowledge of what is helpful, what is harmful, and what is indifferent. Wisdom is judgment, prudence, and philosophical clarity.
Courage (ἀνδρεία): Strength and action in the face of pain, death, fear, shame, and hardship. True courage is ethical, not just physical.
Justice (δικαιοσύνη): Treating others fairly and doing one’s duty to family, group, and mankind. It is the most social of the virtues.
Temperance (σωφροσύνη): Mastery of desires and impulses. Moderation. Self-restraint. Control over the passions.
In addition, Stoicism has multiple secondary ideals, living according to nature, apathy, self-sufficiency, indifference to indifferents, duty, and amor fati (love of fate). Combining these traits, primary and secondary, the ideal Stoic person, i.e., the Stoic Sage is a person free of passion, unmoved by praise or blame, grateful in fortune, unshaken in misfortune, rules themselves, serves the whole, practices daily preparation and evening self-examination, speaks little, acts well, dies unafraid.
“To be like the rock that the waves keep crashing over. It stands, unmoved, and the raging of the sea falls still around it.” —Marcus Aurelius
One of the greatest misconceptions of Stoicism is that the Stoic is without emotion or suppresses emotion. This is wholly incorrect. Stoics feel the full range of emotion as any human; however, the Stoic has mastered the response to emotion. This often gives the impression the Stoic is without feeling, but what the Stoic is demonstrating is control of response, not control or suppression of emotion. The second-greatest misconception of Stoicism is that it is pacifist and advocates non-violence. Again, this is untrue. While a pacifist would benefit from and be empowered by Stoicism, Stoicism itself does not itself lead to pacifism. In fact, the Stoic warrior is a well-known and documented archetype. The Stoics do not glorify violence, but neither do they forbid it. Violence and conflict are simply tools, to be employed as needed, but only in Stoic fashion, just like any other reaction to anything. Stoics hold to reason and virtue as the only true guides, and under those guidelines, force, conflict, and even violence may be justified; however, never driven by passion, cruelty, or personal gain.
“The wise man will sometimes go to war, not because he hates his enemies, but because he loves peace.”—Seneca (paraphrased from De Otio and De Vita Beata)
As such, the successful warrior practices a form of Stoicism which can appropriately termed, Strategic Stoicism. Strategic Stoicism is in the spirit of Seneca in that it emphasizes practical application over theory, but takes that pragmatism a step further in the application of the warrior’s mindset and goals. Stoicism teaches living in accordance with nature, both the nature of the Universe and the nature of your true self. If your true self is that of the fighter, striving for victory through combat, competition, and conflict, then Stoicism demands you be a virtuous fighter, i.e., the warrior. Note this does not mean simply “be yourself,” it means given who you are, forge yourself as the virtuous version of that self.
Strategic Stoicism, extending the practical Stoicism of Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, is pragmatic and utilitarian, and fully treats philosophy as readiness, not retreating into purity, but entering the arena fully armored. The four virtues mesh perfectly with the warrior mindset.
Wisdom (σοφία): The clarity to position strategically, to choose proper tactics, to move only when victory is assured, virtuously.
Courage (ἀνδρεία): The ability to act virtuously and strive for victory in the face of pain, death, fear, shame, and hardship.
Justice (δικαιοσύνη): To never move out of cruelty or malice, but only when and how necessary to achieve virtuous victory, and nothing more.
Temperance (σωφροσύνη): To never move out of anger, jealously, ego, pride, or any other passion.
In this way, the Stoic warrior is virtuous, never descending into barbarism or cruelty for the sake of cruelty, and never simply “following orders.” Strategic Stoicism, like all Stoicism, demands virtue and reason rule. The Stoic warrior is not constrained by this, but empowered by it. The differences between strategic, practical, and pure Stoicism can be seen in the following inner dialogs.
Pure (Hard) Stoicism (Zeno, Epictetus): I find myself in a situation that challenges virtue. First, I ask: “Can I act virtuously here?” If yes, I do so. If not, I examine whether I can leave. If I can, I leave. If I cannot, I withdraw emotionally and mentally from what is not mine to control, and I endure with reason and fortitude.
Practical Stoicism (Seneca, Marcus Aurelius): I find myself in a situation hostile to virtue. First, I ask: “Can I improve the situation through virtuous action?” If yes, I act. If not, I ask: “Can I or should I leave without violating duty or reason?” If so, I do. If not, I detach internally, remain disciplined, and endure, watchful for any opening to steer the situation toward reason and justice.
Strategic Stoicism (Warrior-Philosopher): I find myself in a situation that offends reason, yet I must remain to fulfill my objective. First, I ask: “Can I shape the situation through virtuous means without compromising the goal?” If so, I act. If not, I ask: “Can I achieve my objective virtuously, even in a hostile environment?” If yes, I adapt, act, and endure. If not, I ask: “Can I abandon the objective and exit without failing my duty?” If so, I withdraw. If not, I press forward with uncompromising virtue, and if this leads to loss, I accept it as the judgment of fate.
Looking at these contextual inner dialogs, we immediately see the difference between Zeno and Epictetus (i.e., the pure Stoics) versus the Stoicism of Seneca (advisor to Nero) and Emperor Marcus Aurelius (i.e., the practical Stoics), and by extension the warrior’s strategic Stoicism. On one end of the spectrum, pure Stoicism, the path and the light on the path are blurred and become relatively one and the same. Stoicism itself becomes the path of the hard Stoic. On the other end, strategic Stoicism, the path of the warrior; Stoicism is the light on the path guiding the warrior to virtuous victory. Between the two, lays practical Stoicism. To see the difference between pure, practical, and strategic Stoicism, consider each of the following classic tests of Stoicism and the differing responses.
Insult:
Pure Response: An insult is only harmful if I assent to its meaning. If it is true, I reform. If false, I remain unmoved. In both cases, I preserve virtue and control by withholding judgment from externals.
“If someone speaks badly of you and it is true, correct yourself. If it is false, laugh at it.”—Epictetus, Enchiridion 33
Practical Response: I consider whether the insult merits a response, not emotionally, but ethically. If responding would correct error, defend justice, or serve virtue, I speak with restraint. If not, I absorb it silently, knowing no insult can reach the man who governs himself.
“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.”—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.6
Strategic Response: I assess the insult as a potential threat vector. If it undermines mission, authority, or discipline, I respond with calibrated force, verbal, reputational, or physical to neutralize its effect, never from vanity, always from necessity. If it poses no threat, I ignore it as I would a leaf in the wind.
“Insult is a probe. If it breaches nothing of value, it is wind. If it threatens order, I strike, not from ego, but from duty.”—@Sweaty.PhD
Reputation:
Pure Response: Reputation is an external beyond my control, and thus indifferent. I do not pursue or protect it. If virtue costs me reputation, I pay without hesitation. Let me be thought a fool, so long as I am not one.
“If you wish to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid with regard to externals.”—Epictetus, Enchiridion 13
Practical Response: Reputation is not my goal, but I attend to it when it enables me to act virtuously, to teach, to govern, or to influence justly. I guard it only when its loss would harm my duty, not for vanity, but for effectiveness.
“Reputation should be considered not for itself, but for the influence it lends to virtue.”—Seneca, paraphrased from De Tranquillitate Animi
Strategic: Reputation is an operational asset, armor against slander, a weapon of influence. I guard it dispassionately, as I would my sword: maintained not for vanity, but for effectiveness. If it must be sacrificed for virtue or mission, I let it go. But while it serves, I keep it sharp, and wield it virtuously.
“Guard your name like as warrior guards his sword, not for show, but for survival.”—@Sweaty.PhD
Dominance:
Pure Response: Dominance over others is indifferent, neither good nor evil. The only true dominion is over the self. To seek mastery over others is to become a slave to opinion and desire. I concern myself only with mastering what is mine: my will, my reason, my character.
“No man is free who is not master of himself.”—Epictetus, Discourses 4.1
Practical Response: Hierarchy exists, but it is neither to be worshiped nor rejected. If I hold authority, I exercise it justly, ruled by reason, not pride. I accept command as a duty, not a prize, and I obey law and structure when they align with virtue.
“It is not the position which exalts the man, but the man who exalts the position.”—Seneca, Letters 104
Strategic Response: Dominance is a condition of the battlefield—social, political, or literal. If victory requires that I assume and maintain command, I do so, rationally, dispassionately, without cruelty. I assert power not to exalt myself, but to protect order, mission, and those under my charge. When dominance no longer serves virtue or objective, I release it without regret.
“The lion does not rule the Savannah out of cruelty, but necessity.”—@Sweaty.PhD
Accolades, Position, Rank:
Pure Response: Titles, awards, and social rank are neither good nor evil. They do not elevate a man, nor diminish him. I do not pursue them, and if they come, I treat them as I would the wind, passing, external, and irrelevant to virtue.
“If you want to be noble, first understand that nobility comes not from titles but from virtue.”—Epictetus, Discourses 3.22
Practical Response: Honors and positions are facts of human society. I neither pursue nor scorn them. If they come, I use them to serve virtue; if they do not, I carry on unchanged. They are not my identity, only tools, useful when directed by reason, irrelevant otherwise.
“If you are offered a command, ask if it is necessary.”—Seneca, paraphrased from De Tranquillitate Animi
Strategic Response: Rank, title, and position are tools of influence. I pursue them when needed to complete my mission or secure the means of command, but never from vanity. I carry them as I would a weapon: clean, sharpened, and ready to discard the moment they no longer serve virtue or objective. They are not who I am; they are leverage.
“The wise man will accept honors if they come without compromise, but never forget they are clothing, not skin.”—Sweaty.PhD
Strategic Stoicism is the way of the warrior, and when taken to its logical conclusion, the warrior-philosopher is born; the individual who equally prizes the duality of virtue, intellect, wisdom, discipline, and duty on one side, and physical conditioning, personal combat training, and striving through conflict, adversity, and adversaries on the other. Most importantly, this duality is wholly contained within Stoic virtue.
This distinguishes the warrior-philosopher from the barbarian and the soldier. Each is a form of “the fighter,” the ones whose very being demands conflict, competition, combat, and striving through adversaries and adversity. The fighter is the primitive core state of each of the barbarian, the soldier, and the warrior. The barbarian is ruled by passion and pure individualism, regardless of virtue and the greater good; the individual is all that matters. The soldier is ruled by duty, discipline, and orders, and if necessary, regardless of virtue and the greater good; the collective is all that matters. The warrior-philosopher, through strategic Stoicism, elevates reason and virtue above all other traits. The warrior-philosopher would never submit to passion as does the barbarian. The warrior-philosopher does not “follow orders” when those orders are contrary to virtue, nor does the warrior-philosopher necessarily obey the reason of the collective, thereby making service as a “good soldier” practically impossible. While society may glorify the barbarian, and society certainly needs the soldier, both are irrelevant to the Stoic warrior-philosopher, for they do not subordinate themselves to virtue above all.
Strategic Stoicism stands apart, and in its way, it is the most demanding form of Stoic philosophy. Strategic Stoicism is not a retreat from the world, where pure Stoicism tends to lean, but instead is dominance and sovereignty over the world through intellect, discipline, and internal command. Not dominance in the sense of “dominating others,” but in the sense of ultimate sovereignty of self. Further, strategic Stoicism is not simply a virtuous response to an unvirtuous world, as is practical Stoicism. In contrast, strategic Stoicism demands proactive action from its adherents; we must get up, move forward, strive, train, learn, fight, and do so fearlessly and wholly within the constraint of virtue.
A hard road. Not for the faint of heart.
Excellent
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