Lecture 18: On food.
On the subject of food, he used to speak frequently and very emphatically too, as a question of no small significance, nor leading to unimportant consequences; indeed he believed that the beginning and foundation of temperance lay in self-control in eating and drinking. Once, putting aside other themes such as he habitually discussed, he spoke somewhat as follows.
As one should prefer inexpensive food to expensive and what is abundant to what is scarce, so one should prefer what is natural for men to what is not. Now food from plants of the earth is natural to us, grains and those which though not cereals can nourish man well, and also food (other than flesh) from animals which are domesticated.
Some would say it is best to leave questions of the ideal human diet to the biologists and the nutritionists, since they are surely the experts on “following the science”. And yet, in my few decades on this Earth, I have seen “the science” change back and forth over the years, often influenced more by politics and culture than it is by any insight about what is best for the human body.
It can be difficult to separate the soundbites from the substance, the people who are trying to sell us a product from the people who are genuinely concerned with our health.
Musonius may not have had the benefit of all the latest research, and some of his explanations may sound downright primitive to our ears, but I must remember that his interest here is for the good of the soul as much as it is for the good of the body. Though they may be expressed in what we now consider odd terms, he offers common sense suggestions on the healthiest foods within the larger context of the healthiest moral character.
What we eat and drink is hardly accidental to who we are. The very substance of the body itself depends upon it, and how we choose our sustenance is a reflection of our sense of values.
The virtue of temperance is concerned with our judgments having the power to rule over our passions, and is therefore one of the foundations of the good and happy life. Some modern associations of the term suggest that it is about repression and denial, but in the classical sense it is about learning to freely guide our desires instead of being enslaved to them.
Indeed, most of the great mistakes of my life have played themselves out in allowing my feelings to run away from me. I forget that they are mine to do with as I choose, not for them to do with me whatever they will. An appetite for pleasure or an aversion to pain is a natural part of who I am, and I am meant to feel such things. Yet to simply feel them is not enough—I am also called to understand them, and thereby to give them direction and purpose. It is what I do with my feelings that makes all the difference.
Intemperance in sexual desires, the reduction of love to lust, can be a great obstacle to happiness, and has been a horrific downfall for many, but I would suggest that intemperance in food and drink can be just as harmful to us, even if its effects are perhaps more creeping and subtle.
My grandmother would say that you could tell quite a bit about a man by how he ate, that what he put inside his stomach told you about the content of his heart.
Gluttony is a reflection of imbalance, moderation a reflection of balance. One always requires more, while the other finds contentment with what is enough. We certainly see this in the “developed” world, where excessive consumption is a primary form of recreation, the slow crippling of the body on account of an emptiness in the soul.
I hardly need to accuse anyone else of this; I have done it myself more often than I can count, and I have to admit I implicitly knew exactly why I did it. I overfilled my belly because I was failing to be content in my mind.
Good food will become no better because it costs more, just as a person will become no better because he earns more.
Good food will become no better because it is rare and obscure, just as a person will become no better because he is exotic and glamorous.
Good food will become no better because it has been elaborately prepared and processed, just as a person will become no better because he is artificially cultured and refined.
The Stoic tells us to always live according to Nature, and it will be no different when it comes to our diets. What should I eat and drink? In that all the other conditions of my life should be measured relative to virtue, and the goods of the body should be in service to the goods of the soul, whatever I receive into myself is beneficial when it helps me to live in common with others, in simplicity of form, and with a purity of purpose.
On the subject of food, he used to speak frequently and very emphatically too, as a question of no small significance, nor leading to unimportant consequences; indeed he believed that the beginning and foundation of temperance lay in self-control in eating and drinking. Once, putting aside other themes such as he habitually discussed, he spoke somewhat as follows.
As one should prefer inexpensive food to expensive and what is abundant to what is scarce, so one should prefer what is natural for men to what is not. Now food from plants of the earth is natural to us, grains and those which though not cereals can nourish man well, and also food (other than flesh) from animals which are domesticated.
Some would say it is best to leave questions of the ideal human diet to the biologists and the nutritionists, since they are surely the experts on “following the science”. And yet, in my few decades on this Earth, I have seen “the science” change back and forth over the years, often influenced more by politics and culture than it is by any insight about what is best for the human body.
It can be difficult to separate the soundbites from the substance, the people who are trying to sell us a product from the people who are genuinely concerned with our health.
Musonius may not have had the benefit of all the latest research, and some of his explanations may sound downright primitive to our ears, but I must remember that his interest here is for the good of the soul as much as it is for the good of the body. Though they may be expressed in what we now consider odd terms, he offers common sense suggestions on the healthiest foods within the larger context of the healthiest moral character.
What we eat and drink is hardly accidental to who we are. The very substance of the body itself depends upon it, and how we choose our sustenance is a reflection of our sense of values.
The virtue of temperance is concerned with our judgments having the power to rule over our passions, and is therefore one of the foundations of the good and happy life. Some modern associations of the term suggest that it is about repression and denial, but in the classical sense it is about learning to freely guide our desires instead of being enslaved to them.
Indeed, most of the great mistakes of my life have played themselves out in allowing my feelings to run away from me. I forget that they are mine to do with as I choose, not for them to do with me whatever they will. An appetite for pleasure or an aversion to pain is a natural part of who I am, and I am meant to feel such things. Yet to simply feel them is not enough—I am also called to understand them, and thereby to give them direction and purpose. It is what I do with my feelings that makes all the difference.
Intemperance in sexual desires, the reduction of love to lust, can be a great obstacle to happiness, and has been a horrific downfall for many, but I would suggest that intemperance in food and drink can be just as harmful to us, even if its effects are perhaps more creeping and subtle.
My grandmother would say that you could tell quite a bit about a man by how he ate, that what he put inside his stomach told you about the content of his heart.
Gluttony is a reflection of imbalance, moderation a reflection of balance. One always requires more, while the other finds contentment with what is enough. We certainly see this in the “developed” world, where excessive consumption is a primary form of recreation, the slow crippling of the body on account of an emptiness in the soul.
I hardly need to accuse anyone else of this; I have done it myself more often than I can count, and I have to admit I implicitly knew exactly why I did it. I overfilled my belly because I was failing to be content in my mind.
Good food will become no better because it costs more, just as a person will become no better because he earns more.
Good food will become no better because it is rare and obscure, just as a person will become no better because he is exotic and glamorous.
Good food will become no better because it has been elaborately prepared and processed, just as a person will become no better because he is artificially cultured and refined.
The Stoic tells us to always live according to Nature, and it will be no different when it comes to our diets. What should I eat and drink? In that all the other conditions of my life should be measured relative to virtue, and the goods of the body should be in service to the goods of the soul, whatever I receive into myself is beneficial when it helps me to live in common with others, in simplicity of form, and with a purity of purpose.
Written in 5/2000
IMAGE: Nicholas Stone, Temperance (1631)
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