Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 4.32

The one is a philosopher without a tunic, and the other without a book. Here is another half naked.

Bread I have not, he says, and I abide by reason. And I do not get the means of living out of my learning, and I abide by my reason.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 4 (tr Long)

Some people may define philosophy as a trade, in which case I have known folks who have managed to pay the bills with it, and even a few who found a bit of fame and fortune along the way. One clever trick I have observed is the use of a degree in philosophy to gain an edge in more profitable careers, like law, business, or politics.

But for the Stoic, and for anyone who understands philosophy in the perennial sense of the love of wisdom, philosophy isn’t a means for acquiring money or reputation. It is the pursuit of understanding true from false, and right from wrong, for its own sake, for the purpose of living well.

“What use is it, then?” many will ask. The question is hardly unimportant, even if the intent behind it may be quite dismissive. It rather points straight to the most important question we can ask ourselves, and thereby itself reveals the necessity of philosophy: What is the highest good in life?

For the Stoic, virtue is itself that highest good, because it fulfills the very function of a rational being. I should look at everything else, and ask myself how these things will either aid me or hinder me in pursuing a life committed to my own moral character. Indifferent to externals for their own sake, the Stoic asks only how they might be ordered toward internal excellence.

By all means, let me make money if it can help me to be a better person, but I should be just as willing to embrace poverty if that condition can improve me. While some people will define their very lives by the presence or absence of certain circumstances, the Stoic will only view these circumstances as relative to a very different end, by what he thinks and by how he acts.

Whether I have on decent clothes, or I own the best books, or I even have food on the table will not be the measure of a Stoic life. Simply and purely, with all other things relative and subservient to it, abiding by reason, and thereby living in harmony with Nature, is the measure of the Stoic life. It isn’t about working for any wealth, gratification, or honor, but about working on myself.

This may seem like terribly bad advertising for the pursuit of philosophy, but that would only be the case if we think that advertising ought to be dishonest. It also reveals that, since many people will be horrified by the prospect of not loving fortune first, philosophy has her job cut out for her. She should encourage people to care for far better things.

How useful is philosophy? Useful for what? The life of a philosopher demands dedicated and honest reflection on what I should even be living for, and in doing so can reveal a whole new way of managing the things that are more or less important.

If I don’t think that looking sharp, or even staying warm, are all that high up on the priorities of life, I won’t really miss that tunic all too much. Keep me stylish and cozy, if you wish, but not at the expense of dedicating everything to being a good man.

Written in 11/2005

Image: Jules Bastein-Lepage, Diogenes (1873)