Epictetus on Friendship 5

For universally, be not deceived, every animal is attached to nothing so much as to its own interest.

Whatever then appears to it an impediment to this interest, whether this be a brother, or a father, or a child, or beloved, or lover, it hates, spurns, curses: for its nature is to love nothing so much as its own interest; this is father, and brother and kinsman, and country, and God.

When, then, the gods appear to us to be an impediment to this, we abuse them and throw down their statues and burn their temples, as Alexander ordered the temples of Asclepius to be burned when his dear friend died.

—Epictetus, Discourses 2.22, tr Long

Don’t worry, because our consideration on the darker side of false friendship is soon over.

The nature of desire is to be drawn to whatever seems desirable. All of this depends, of course, upon what it is that we actually consider to be desirable. What is it that we want? Surely we desire what is best for us, for our own interests?

I have spent many years, both as a teacher, and simply trying to be a personal friend to others, hearing people tell me that politics, economics, or ethics should really just be about one thing: how we can get ourselves what we really want. Self-interest rules the land, and we should just admit this openly.

I do give such people credit. They are willing to honestly admit that what matters to them is themselves, and they have no qualms about playing it any other way. And I believe that Epictetus would say that they are entirely right.

This would seem a slap in the face to all things Stoic, to the love of wisdom, of justice, of temperance, or of fortitude. How could Epictetus say such a thing?

As always, distinguish. What exactly is it that fulfills my interest in myself? My answer will depend entirely upon what I consider to be good for my nature as a human being.

I might assume that the good resides in what I receive, and in what is given to me. Or I might think that the good resides in what I myself do, and in what I give. Therein rests all the difference, and that is the Stoic distinction between what is external, and what is internal. Self-interest will only be genuinely selfish if it depends upon the former, and self-interest will only be genuinely selfless if it depends upon the latter.

Most of us, however, will assume that we require the trappings of life to make us happy. We need pleasure, money, power, and reputation to make this life worthwhile. This is why most of us will sell out our friends, use and betray them, for our apparent benefit. If only we understood that we have sought the wrong good, and in entirely the wrong direction. We think too much about the taking, and rarely about the giving.

“But I give all the time! I support worthy causes, attend fundraising events, and express my love for my neighbor!” Yes, but have you done this for others, or just for yourself? Have you acted only in order to receive? The virtuous man acts because it is right to love his friends, but the vicious man only acts because he believes it is right for his friends to serve him.

When Socrates, that man of moral power, was sentenced to death, he told his friends that they must offer a sacrifice to Asclepius, the god of healing. He meant this to show gratitude for the life he had been gifted to live, as well as a thanks for the escape from the pain and suffering of that life. Yet when Alexander, that man or worldly power, also lost a friend to death, he ordered the temples of Asclepius to be destroyed.

The actions of these two men tell us everything we need to know about this struggle of values. One gave without question, while the other received with conditions. It remains only for us to decide if we shall be a Socrates, or an Alexander.

Written on 2/2002

Image: Hermann Kern, "Good Friends" (1904)