The Stoic dichotomy

At the heart of Stoicism lies the concept of the dichotomy of ‘control’:

Some things are up to us and others are not.

While many other concepts from god to virtues have been open to multiple interpretations, the basic principle of dichotomy is unambiguous and is generally considered the cornerstone of Stoicism.

The trichotomy hypothesis

Some years ago, in his widely read A Guide to the Good Life, William Irvine suggested that the Stoic dichotomy should be expanded to include a third category:

For example,

I can choose to not be angry. I have total control over it. ·The train has already left the station. I have no control over it. ·I have a competition coming up. I can win it. I have partial control over it.

Sounds very reasonable, logical, and even obvious. Is it possible that this simple logic escaped the ancient Stoics, master logicians as they were? Is it possible that none of the millions of people who were exposed to this concept over the past twenty centuries could figure out something as obvious as this? These issues were considered and answered by several prominent modern Stoics including Donald Roberson (https://bit.ly/2YFvTV4), Massimo Pigliucci (https://bit.ly/2OzySul), and others. Still, I keep hearing from others, especially from newcomers to Stoicism about this issue.

The fallacy: Confusing actions with outcomes

I suspect that the trichotomy of control is predicated on a misunderstanding about what the ancient Stoics were talking about. When the ancient Stoics were talking about the dichotomy of control, they were talking about the outcome of our actions, not actions themselves. Outcomes are always either under our control (like whether to be angry) not under our control (like whether we will strike it rich). Actions, on the other hand, are sometimes fully under our control (for example, not getting upset about possibly missing the train), partially under our control (I can walk faster so I don’t miss the train), and at other times not under our control (the train that has already left the station). The trichotomy of control is based on the confusion between actions and the outcome.

When an outcome is not under our control, actions leading up to the outcome may be under our control to varying degrees.

1. I missed the train. It has already left the station.

Action — I can do nothing to bring the train back: Outcome: not up to me. 2. My exam is next week. I am not well prepared, although there is still some time left

Action — I can do something, but not much: Outcome: not up to me. 3. I am participating in a sports completion. I am good and have plenty of time to prepare. I will continue to train until the last day

Action — I can do a lot; Outcome: not up to me.

All these situations have one thing in common. Although actions may be under my control to varying degrees, the outcome is not up to me. Even if I have done something millions of times before, and am still capable of doing it now, such as crossing the street, the outcome is still not up to me. I may trip and break my foot, I may have a heart attack in the middle of the street, or I may be run over by a car. So, I take care when I cross the street (an action that may be under my control) but, despite this, I can be run over by a car driven by a drunk driver running a red light. The outcome is not up to me.

Where externals are concerned, we don’t have a casting vote and never will

When an outcome is not under your control, it doesn’t mean that we cannot influence it. It is just that we — with all our actions — don’t get to decide the outcome. We don’t have the casting vote. This is what I believe that the ancient Stoics were talking about. What is indifferent to a Stoic is the outcome, not necessarily the action. This confusion between actions and the outcome has led to several misunderstandings such as the perception that Stoics are passive and that there is a third category of choice.

The ancient Stoics were people of action. Cleanthes worked during the night so he could pay for his lessons during the day. Musonius Rufus went on voluntary exile and yet, when he returned, took action to have Nero’s informer Celer prosecuted and convicted. Epictetus kept teaching through his lameness, banishment, and old age. Marcus Aurelius was on the battlefield when he could have chosen a life of sloth and hedonism like many emperors of his time. Such action orientation is true of almost all ancient Stoics. Yet, curiously, they did not emphasize action in their writings and teachings. In most Stoic teachings ‘things not up to us’ (that we can do nothing about it) are given greater prominence than ‘things that are up to us’ (things of our will and our intention to act). One of the most common misunderstandings is that Stoics are fatalistic and therefore don’t act; Stoicism is passive. Yet none of the ancient Stoics we have heard about were passive. Neither are modern Stoics such as James Stockwell. The call for action permeates the Stoic virtue of justice.

It is unclear why the ancient Stoics, especially Epictetus and, to a large extent, Marcus Aurelius, emphasized and wrote more about things not up to us than our need to act. It may simply be that such a message was better suited for the times they lived in and the problems they faced. Or, they may have assumed that acting on what you control including your intention to act is a given and needed no elaboration. Whatever the reason, the lack of discourse about action has left a lot of room for others to misinterpret their teachings centuries later. Now it seems to be seeping gradually into modern Stoicism as well.

The idea that outcomes of externals are not under our control is a non-negotiable idea in Stoicism and provides the foundation for Stoic ethics. I don’t think it is a coincidence that Flavius Arrian, the distinguished scribe of Epictetus’ discourses, starts the summary of Epictetus teaching with this unambiguous declarative statement:

Some things are up to us and others are not. (Epictetus, Enchiridion, 1)

When I came upon this statement several years ago, I had difficulties with it. All cultural narratives were against it: “You can achieve anything you want if you put your mind to it”, “Nothing is impossible”, and many such messages. My experiences were against it: When I studied, I got better grades. When I didn’t, I got poor grades; when I worked out, my body felt active and when I didn’t my body was sluggish. It seemed to me that many externals were indeed in my partial or full control. But, as years went by, and after many setbacks, I began to realize that what the Stoics were talking about was the outcome of our actions and not actions themselves. What they were trying to say was that as far as externals are concerned, we may have room to act but, no matter how much room we have to act, no matter how certain we are about the outcome, we don’t hold the casting vote. It is simply not under our control.

In my view, to appreciate Stoic ethics fully one needs to grasp why the outcomes of externals are never up to us. Once we grasp the idea, all our unnecessary suffering falls by the wayside. Then our attention and efforts gain a laser-like focus on actions to the extent they are under our control.

For a Stoic, outcome is nothing. Action that is under control is everything.

Focusing attention on actions may increase the chances of achieving the ‘desired’ outcome but it is no concern of a Stoic. Epictetus would have continued (and actually did continue) to teach even if he was threatened with banishment. Musonius Rufus would have (and actually did) preach peace to soldiers. I can’t read the mind of a dead emperor, but it is not inconceivable that Marcus Aurelius would have continued with his battles because it was his duty to protect the empire even if defeat was certain. When Julius Caesar sought to overthrow the Republic and declare himself dictator of Rome, the Stoic Cato of Utica marched through the deserts of Africa with his remnant Republican army to stop Caesar. The outcome was far from guaranteed and in fact Cato lost the civil war. Most likely, Cato had known already that this would happen. After all, when he marched all he had was shattered remains of an army that had little chance of succeeding against the mighty Julius Caesar. The ancient Stoics knew and understood that while actions were up to them, the outcome was not.

Judging impressions and the discipline of assent depends on the Stoic dichotomy

The dichotomy of control defines what is under our control and what is not with unambiguous clarity. Even the oft-quoted prayer of Reinhold Niebuhr leaves it to god to define what is and what is not under our control.

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.

For Stoics, there is no grey area. They don’t need to invoke the help of god to know whether an outcome is under their control or not. It is, if it is a matter of will; it is not, if it is a matter of externals.

The dichotomy of control conceived by the Stoics is fully defined and is unwavering in its definition. This is what lets us decide clearly whether an impression is misleading or not, and provide or withhold assent. Judging impressions and assenting to the right ones are the basis of Stoic wisdom. Without a clearly defined dichotomy, Stoicism will take us no farther than Niebuhr’s prayer.

Dr. Chuck Chakrapani is the editor-in-chief of THE STOIC magazine (https://bit.ly/319WE1s) and the author Unshakable Freedom (https://amzn.to/2YMbbix) and the forthcoming How to Be a Stoic When You Don’t Know How.