Epictetus, Discourses 1.19.2

“All men pay me attention.”

 

Yes, and I pay attention to my platter and work it and polish it and I fix up a peg for my oil flask. 

 

Does that mean that these are superior to me? No, but they do me some service, and for this reason I pay them attention. 

 

Again: do I not pay attention to my ass? Do I not wash his feet? Do I not curry him? 

 

Do you not know that every man pays regard to himself, and to you only as to his ass? 

 

For who pays regard to you as a man? Show me. Who wishes to become like you? Who regards you as one like Socrates to admire and follow? 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.19

 

Here we have a wonderful instance of that classic Epictetian style. The one bit missing is where the eccentric philosopher calls out his challenger for being a whimpering slave. 

 

Some find it terribly offensive, and I do understand why the unabashed directness can be quite jarring, but I must admit that whenever Epictetus has rubbed me the wrong way, it is only because he has made me recognize something about myself that I really don’t want to face. 

 

There is a strong streak of Diogenes in Epictetus, and as with Diogenes, what at first appears as an insult turns out to be a gift. True kindness can be disguised in many forms. Who would Rocky Balboa have been without the loving severity of Mickey Goldmill? 

 

What can I say to the man who appoints himself as the lord and master? How can I spell out for him that while he thinks of everyone else as a tool for his glory, others grovel to him out of nothing more than a like convenience? 

 

No one respects him for his own sake, in any case, or for anything about his personal merits, and it is the circumstances around the man that matter, not the actual man. 

 

Ruminate on the following: think of the bigwig that impressed or terrified you the most in your life, and now remove the baggage and trappings that were attached to him. He’s not so imposing now, is he? He is probably reduced to a rather slimy and pathetic worm, the sort of man you would pity if he wasn’t surrounded by lackeys and expensive toys. 

 

It’s similar to how your mother told you not to be worried about giving your first school speech—imagine the audience in their underwear. 

 

Accordingly, a whole nation is glued to their television sets when Donald Trump exclaims “You’re fired!” When a poor bum on the subway yells out those exact words, we think him insane. 

 

The tyrant wants to make something of himself, and yet, in a certain sense, we all want the very same thing. The tyrant and the decent man differ in how they interpret the meaning of “being” someone. The one believes that God has made the world to serve him, while the other knows that God has made him to serve the world. 

 

I would say that the despot is nothing more than an ass, though the ass is far more useful than any despot. An animal can be a faithful companion, and an oppressor is simply feared, never honored. 

—Reflection written in 2/2001