Epictetus, Discourses 1.2.6

That is what I mean by keeping your character: such is its power with those who have acquired the habit of carrying it into every question that arises.

 

“Go, Epictetus, have yourself shaved.”

 

If I am a philosopher I say, “I will not be shaved.”

 

“I must behead you then.”

 

Behead me, if it is better for you to do so.

 

The various examples Epictetus gives here can seem confusing or misleading, as if Priscus wished to die for his politics, or the athlete wanted to die for his sport, or, in this particular case, Epictetus was willing to die for his beard. 

 

Is the institution of the Roman Senate so necessary that it justifies sacrificing everything else? Does losing the glory of the Olympic Games leave only the option of perishing? Should I boldly cling to the hairs on my chin, even as my head is cut from my body? 

 

The Senate, or wrestling, or a beard are externals, in and of themselves indifferent, and become good or bad for us only through the presence or absence of our virtues. I should not focus only on the specific circumstances of the cases, but rather recognize how each is a particular expression of an inner principle. 

 

The Senate only mattered for Priscus because he first loved justice. 

 

The Olympics only mattered for the wrestler because he first loved courage. 

 

The beard only mattered for Epictetus because he first loved wisdom. 

 

Beards and wisdom? Yes, in that the former is an outward symbol of a state within the soul. Many others have written well about what beards meant to the Romans, but the long and short of it, no pun intended, is that hair on the face was, at this time and place, specifically associated with philosophers. Along with certain modes of dress, it became like something of a uniform, a sign to everyone else about who you were. 

 

So if you order Epictetus to shave off his beard, you are asking for far more than a change of style; to shave off his beard would be something like renouncing his life’s mission. The hair itself didn’t matter, but the values it represented most certainly did, and they were indeed worth living and dying for. 

 

I have heard accounts of Catholics told to desecrate a crucifix under the threat of death, and I have heard some people say that it shouldn’t be such a big deal, because it’s just a piece of wood. One man sees a decoration to hang on his wall, and another man sees through it the mercy of God. 

Written in 8/2000