…and, more recently, financial advisors.
There are lots of interesting features of Stoicism – and indeed, the other ancient philosophical schools (we are the Epicurean Cure after all) – but I want to focus on one idea in particular and one neat (and seemingly overlooked) representation of it in popular media. First, a caveat: this piece is both brief and rather rough-and-ready, so see the further reading below for more precision and to dive deeper.
In 2001, K-Pax was released: a film about a psychiatric hospital with a patient who claimed to be an alien from the eponymous planet of K-Pax. I’m loathe to recommend a film starring Kevin Spacey, but thankfully the whole script is available online, so if you’re interested you can read it there and mentally substitute whatever person you like into the lead role.
At the very end of the film, there’s a voiceover from the main character – the possible alien – with advice for his psychiatrist.[3] First he tells us that the K-Paxians know something that humans don’t:
The Universe will expand, then collapse back on itself – then expand again. It will repeat this process again and again, forever.
At first this just sounds like a Big Bang/Big Crunch sort of picture, but in the context of what comes next, the Stoic influence becomes obvious.
Stoic doctrine speaks of a
cosmic ‘fire’ which combined the creative functions of light and warmth – this latter including that of the warm ‘breath’ or pneuma (which in its Latinized form became our word ‘spirit’) that served as the vitalizing force of the Stoic world. God is sometimes defined as a ‘creative fire that proceeds methodically to the world’s coming to be’.
Brunschwig & Sedley, p. 170
This ‘coming to be’ isn’t a singular occurrence. For the Stoics, the world comes into being and then ends again in cycles. The end is a state of total fieriness or godliness called ekpyrosis (often translated as ‘conflagration’), during which the deity sets up the new cycle.
Now there’s nothing there to worry about, just yet. It’s quite nice to think that if things don’t shake out as well as they could this time round that we (or others like us) would get another shot next cycle. But as the voiceover from K-Pax tells us, that’s not what we should expect:
What you don’t know is that when the Universe expands again, everything will be as it was before. Whatever mistakes you make this time around, you will live through again. Over and over, forever.
The Stoics thought so too:
The deity, being supremely wise, has no reason to do things differently from one world to the next. So successive worlds are indistinguishable from each other, even in their details.
B&S, p. 171.
I’ve written this sentence infinitely many times in previous cycles, and will write it again infinitely more times in subsequent cycles.
So, you might ask, why bother? Why study for an exam, if whether I pass or fail is predetermined (and not just now, but for infinitely many repetitions?) Why go to the doctor when I’m sick – I’ll either get better or I won’t. This is the charge of fatalism, and the critics of Stoics raised the same objections, sometimes called ‘The Lazy Argument’ or ‘The Idle Argument’.
Undeterred, the Stoic Chrysippus replied that outcomes are not fated no matter what, but rather ‘co-fated’ along with other factors, such as our decisions, actions, and dispositions. That you are you – rather than someone else, with a shorter temper, a tendency to make decisions by rolling dice, or a preference for honeycomb ice-cream – factors in to how the world is. Fate gives us a push, says Chrysippus, but it works through us; how fate unrolls depends on the kinds of beings we are. (Editor’s note: I’m paraphrasing here, and Chrysippus spoke Ancient Greek.[4])
We might understand it like this: it is determined by the deity that I am who I am. But if I had been different, things would have turned out differently.
There is nothing new under a sun which, even itself, is not new.
One of the reasons people might be worried by the idea of fate is that they think it’s only appropriate to blame or praise someone for their actions – to hold them accountable – if the action originated with them.[5] For the Stoics, it’s appropriate to praise and blame people even though the world is determined, because the kinds of people we are makes a difference to how the world turns out. Fate ultimately causes the kinds of people we are, and what happens to us: “how we respond, however predictable in the light of our own past history and present character, is ‘in our power’: the responsibility for it is our own.”[6]
Scholars have different views on the nuances of Stoic determinism and what we should take from it. For instance,
In embracing this strange conceit, the Stoics may well have been attracted by its moral implications: don’t dream of what you could do, or might have been able to do, ‘in another life’, because another life would be just the same as this one. There is nothing new under a sun which, even itself, is not new.
B&S, p. 171.
But the message from K-Pax is slightly more upbeat:
[M]y advice to you is to get it right this time around. Because… this time… is all you have.
I might have typed this sentence infinitely times before, but to me, in my chair, it feels like the first time, and it always will. Fingers crossed I’ve avoided any typos.
[1] Not to be confused by Zeno of Elea (he of many puzzles – the Stoics were, to my knowledge, fine with the idea that Achilles could catch up with a tortoise).
[2] As Susanne Bobzien writes, “Stoic philosophy, although uniform in its core tenets, has always contained…differences in the explanations of details even among the most orthodox members of the school, and a focus on different areas of philosophy by different Stoics” (p. 2).
[3] The following quotations are taken from the script linked above, on p. 172. For accessibility purposes, you can also watch the relevant scene here: https://youtu.be/bHhtl82GsCo?t=120.
[4] And, according to one report (from Diogenes Laertius), he died laughing at his own joke. What a guy.
[5] We might also say ‘if they acted freely’, but what we should mean by ‘freely’ is a whole other philosophical can of worms. Another thing that matters for praise and blame is us being the same people from one day to the next – see this article for more on this.
[6] B&S, p. 172.
You can find out more about Chrysippus in Book VII Chapter 7 of Diogenes Laertius’s Lives of Eminent Philosophers.
If you want to read some Stoic philosophy straight from the Ancient Stoics, you could start with Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations and Seneca’s Letters from a Stoic.
For a general overview of philosophy in the period there are a lot of options, but one that easily fits in the handbag is Terence Irwin’s Classical Thought (Oxford and New York: OUP, 1989).
]]>Those who ascend to rulership become Philosopher Kings[1]:
It is a more enlightened age. Perhaps a future, or a past long forgotten, when rulers are noble and just, and rule for their people, not just for themselves. Perhaps it is an Age of Reason, in which older, barbaric measures of manhood such as war and business have been phased out, and replaced solely with pure, unclouded Thought. Only those who have the capacity to Think have the right to Rule. In this realm, the Philosopher King is found.[2]
In this short but sweet piece of pop(culture)corn, we highlight some gender-inverted instances of the Philosopher and Philosopher King. Let us know your favourite, or other characters deserving the mantle of Philosopher Queen, in the comments or on Twitter/Tumblr/Facebook.
"Eternal life for those who can afford it means eternal control over those who can’t."
Quell is an academic and political revolutionary in Richard Morgan’s Altered Carbon. The Netflix adaptation presents her as a fighting philosopher rebel queen, whose actions against the ruling elite are underpinned by her eponymous political philosophy:
Quellism is the political theory created by Quellcrist Falconer for the establishment of a hi-tech social democracy, having elements of socialism and anarchism. Quellism was an expression of Quell’s exasperation with both the inherent self-serving, elitist, corruption of right-wing politics and the back-biting, self-absorption of the left.[4]
Technological developments have allowed the rich to prolong their lives indefinitely, ‘resleeving’ their consciousness in new bodies – in the Altered Carbon universe, Quell notes, “Your body is not who you are.”[5] The political ramifications of this motivate Quell’s revolution:
The ebb and flow of life is what makes us all equal in the end […] We aren’t meant to live forever. It corrupts even the best of us…Eternal life for those who can afford it means eternal control over those who can’t.
Quell (S01E07)
Tallis is an elven, Qunari assassin, from Dragon Age II’s “Mark of the Assassin” DLC. A convert to the Qun, Tallis engages in both epistemology and moral philosophy, contemplating her faith and her moral obligations.
In classic trope-philosopher fashion, she delivers pithy one-liners as she accompanies the party:
He who wishes to walk on water must first learn to swim.
She who swallows wisdom in tiny chunks avoids choking.
It’s not always meant to end in violence. There are other paths. They do not all need to lead to the same destination.
Doubt is the path one walks to reach faith. To leave the path is to embrace blindness, and abandon hope.
A literal philosopher queen – or at least, philosopher princess – Bubblegum rules the Candy Kingdom in Adventure Time, a prosperous land of sweet creatures with a tendency to explode when frightened. A metaphysician and philosopher of science, Bubblegum champions invention and empirical endeavours while denying the existence of magic:
Listen, all magic is scientific principles presented like “mystical hoodoo” which is fun, but it’s sort of irresponsible.
Princess Bubblegum, Wizards Only, Fool
In the course of the show, Bubblegum attends and organises conferences, fashions a potion to revive the dead, and creates a variety of creatures (including her own subjects) out of candy biomass:
As princess of candy kingdom, I’m in charge of a lot of candy people. They rely on me, I can’t imagine what might happen to them if I was gone… I am not going to live forever Finn, I would if I could, but modern science just isn’t there yet, so I engineered a replacement that could live forever.
Princess Bubblegum, Goliad
And, in true tropey fashion, Princess Bubblegum acts as a guide to the show’s adventuring heroes, Finn and Jake, sharing her wisdom and providing exposition:
Finn, sometimes you want someone and you want to kiss them and be with them, but you can’t because responsibility demands sacrifice.
Princess Bubblegum, Burning Low
"Doubt is the path one walks to reach faith. To leave the path is to embrace blindness, and abandon hope."
Mary Malone is a physicist and the inventor of the eponymous device in Philip Pullman’s Amber Spyglass. Like Bubblegum, she is foremost a scientist, but Mary plays the role of the philosopher in guiding (and tempting) Lyra and Will. Drawing on her background as a former nun, she espouses her philosophy of religion as part of this process:
I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are.
Mary Malone, The Amber Spyglass
Sha’ira appears in the Mass Effect series, offering “personal services as well as entertainment and conversation”[6], but she is particularly sought after for her advice. After providing assistance to the consort in the first Mass Effect instalment, Sha’ira offers the player character Shepard a ‘gift of words’: “an affirmation of who you are, and who you will become”. Shepard observes that, from description, the consort sounds like an oracle; in this and her advice she is much like the classic trope instances. Another character rejoins that Sha’ira is merely a woman, “with remarkable compassion and a generous spirit”.[7]
Sha’ira has been likened to a Greek hetaira – in both cases, depending on who you ask, they are described as sex workers, escorts, and/or elite, educated women.
Want to philosophise about other examples? Do so in the comments, or on twitter/tumblr/facebook.
[1] The original argument for why it’s a good idea for philosophers to be kings (or kings to be philosophers) see Plato’s Republic, Books VI-VII.
[2] https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ThePhilosopherKing
[3] The Ruler of the Universe from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, as envisioned by the BBC (https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/profiles/RPVK2VZqX2qv6tQPTsLchK/man-in-the-shack
[4] https://altered-carbon.fandom.com/wiki/Quellism
[5] Altered Carbon, S01E01. If you’re interested in what makes you what you are, you can find out more here.
[6] https://masseffect.fandom.com/wiki/Sha%27ira
[7] Nelyna, Mass Effect
One that has stuck with me for many years is Season 4 Episode 16: Grampy Rabbit’s Dinosaur Park (which scores a tragically low 5.4/10 on IMDB).[1] The synopsis reads:
To celebrate Freddy Fox’s birthday the children go on a trip to a Dinosaur park where they follow dinosaur footprints to find Freddy’s birthday treat.
This does not do it justice.
At the opening of the episode the cast of characters arrive at Grampy Rabbit’s dinosaur safari park and Peppa asks the first instance of a question which recurs throughout the episode:
Peppa Pig: Are there really dinosaurs here?
Grampy Rabbit: No, just pretend ones.
Peppa Pig: Phew.
Following this a small elephant pipes up about the demise of the dinosaurs millions of years previously and the narrator dismisses him as a “clever clogs”. Fear not, lovely reader - we shall not be so easily deterred by this blatant anti-intellectualism.
As the children and parents move through the dinosaur park, Daddy Pig notes that the dinosaur footsteps they’re following look very real, and double-checks that there are no living dinosaurs in the park. Grampy Rabbit assures him that there aren’t, and it soon transpires that the footprints lead to a gigantic dinosaur slide. Merriment ensues.
Finally, Grampy Rabbit announces that they are to find a dinosaur egg, and thanks to Freddy Fox’s keen sense of smell the task is swiftly completed. It is at this point that the episode’s most fascinating claim is made.
But before we get to spoilers, some groundwork needs to be laid. While Peppa Pig and friends are concerned with the reality of dinosaurs – at least the ones in Grampy Rabbit’s park – their discussion readily applies to much thornier philosophical debates.
Is it real?
Back in the 11th century, St Anselm was likewise concerned with matters of existence, albeit of God rather than dinosaurs. Anselm proposed what’s taken to be the first of a series of arguments known as ‘ontological’ arguments for God’s existence.[2] It can be found in Chapter 2 of his Prosologion,[3] and goes roughly[4] like this:
God is a being than which nothing greater can be conceived.
Conceived doesn’t mean quite the same thing as imagined in philosophical circles – there’s debate about how exactly to conceive of ‘conceiving’ – but we can treat them as roughly interchangeable for our purposes. So the greatest thing one could imagine is God. If you can conceive of something greater than God, you weren’t conceiving God correctly.
Things can exist in the understanding alone, or in reality as well.
Anselm uses the example of a painter planning what he will paint. The painting exists in the painter’s mind; once it is painted it will also exist in reality.
That than which nothing greater can be conceived must exist in reality, not merely in the understanding.
Anselm contends that if God were just imagined – i.e. existed only in our minds – then God wouldn’t be the greatest thing of which we could conceive. Something that we conceive of as existing in reality – i.e. something we conceive of as real – is greater than something we conceive of as merely imaginary.
To make this a little clearer: take Wonder Woman. What would be better, greater, more magnificent: a Wonder Woman who exists merely in comic books, or a Wonder Woman who exists as we do?
For Anselm, the answer is obvious: the real Wonder Woman is superior to the fictional one. If God is not just conceivably great but the greatest thing of which we could conceive, and existing in reality makes you greater than existing only in our minds, then God – i.e. the greatest thing of which we could conceive – must exist, otherwise God wouldn’t be the greatest thing of which we could conceive.
So, God must exist.
In Anselm’s words:
Therefore, if that than which nothing greater can be conceived exists in the understanding alone, the very being than which nothing greater can be conceived is one than which a greater being can be conceived. But obviously this is impossible. Hence there is no doubt that there exists a being than which nothing greater can be conceived and it exists both in the understanding and in reality.
Anselm, Prosologion
Back in the 11th century, St Anselm was likewise concerned with matters of existence, albeit of God rather than dinosaurs.
Following Anselm, big philosophical names produced their own ontological arguments: Descartes, Leibniz, Godel, Plantinga, among others. There have been various refutations of them; nowadays ontological arguments are generally not considered very persuasive. However, as Bertrand Russell notes:
The argument does not, to a modern mind, seem very convincing, but it is easier to feel convinced that it must be fallacious than it is to find out precisely where the fallacy lies.[5]
And this is where Peppa Pig reveals its philosophical insight. Anselm’s ontological argument relies on the idea that something that exists in reality is greater than that which exists only in our minds. In other words, that something real is better or greater than something not real or imaginary. Many previous critics have argued that existence isn’t the sort of thing that bears on greatness: strength might, or goodness, but existence is a different kind of thing to those. Peppa Pig, by contrast, strikes in more direct fashion.
When we left them, our cast of characters had come upon the sought-after dinosaur egg. Peppa asks,
“Is it real?”
Grampy Rabbit: It’s better than real. It’s pretend.
[1] You may be able to find the episode here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfMYw33jph0
[2] Ontology is a subset of metaphysics dealing with the nature of being. Ontological arguments of the kind mentioned above purport to derive God’s existence from reason and logic alone, rather than experience (that is, from premises that are a priori, necessary and analytic).
[3] Anselm, Prosologion, Chapter 2. http://www.uta.edu/philosophy/faculty/burgess-jackson/Anselm,%20Proslogion.pdf (Accessed September 2019).
[4] I say roughly for two reasons – firstly because this is a rather cursory reconstruction on my part, and secondly because a more formal reconstruction of Anselm’s argument is not as straightforward as it might at first seem. Cf. Eder, G. & Ramharter, E. Formal reconstructions of St. Anselm’s Ontological Argument”, Synthese (2015) 192: 2795. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11229-015-0682-8
[5] Bertrand Russell, History of Western Philosophy, (London: Routledge, 1961). Book 3 Part I Section XI p. 568. If you're interested in objections to the ontological argument, see Further Reading below.
For more information on the ontological argument, these are a good place to start:
The Wikipedia page on Tarzan’s yell contains more information than you would ever need in order to recreate the distinctive sound (to which Grampy Rabbit plays homage in his descent on the slide): https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tarzan_yell
Finally, if you want to continue your philosophical journey by way of further Peppa Pig episodes, might I suggest starting with S3 E17 – Mr Potato Comes to Town – which introduces children to the concept of cannibalism by way of this delicious (excuse the pun) exchange:
]]>Mr Potato: “Eat fruit and vegetables.”
Peppa Pig: “Which ones should we eat, Mr Potato?”
Mr Potato: “Apples, oranges, carrots, tomatoes…”
Peppa Pig: “Potatoes?”
Mr Potato: “Ermmm…”