Donald Trump, a Stoic perspective

How does the 47th President of the United States fare when it comes to virtue?

Politician addressing a large crowd, by Midjourney.

The word “politics” comes from the Greek politikos, meaning “pertaining to public life.” In turn, that term is derived from polis, referring to a city or community. That’s why when I hear people say that they don’t engage in politics I want to ask them why they don’t give a damn about their community.

But I get it. These days, unfortunately, the term “politics” has become essentially synonymous with partisanship, and I do agree that partisanship is bad, because it tends to close people’s minds to dialogue, instead entrenching their positions as part of their personal identity. Which explains the otherwise puzzling phenomenon of people taking criticism of a particular policy as a personal attack and therefore “offensive.”

My regular readers might have noticed that I usually stay away from direct political commentary. That’s not because I don’t have opinions, of course. Rather, it’s for two reasons: (i) I don’t believe I have anything original or particularly insightful to offer on the matter; and (ii) given the currently extremely partisan atmosphere it seems like I would simply risk losing some people and otherwise preaching to the choir.

So why this entry in The Philosophy Garden? First, I think this essay may manage to say something interesting by using the Stoic framework to analyze Donald Trump’s character, as presumably reflected in his actions. And, second, it seems to me that we are rapidly moving toward a potential constitutional and institutional crisis in the United States, a crisis that would have major consequences for the rest of the world. This just may be reason enough to risk losing some readers. So here we go, brace yourselves.

What I intend to do is first to examine Trump using the four cardinal virtues of (practical) wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance. We will then proceed to discuss how Trump’s actions appear from the point of view of a number of Stoic fundamental concepts, such as preferred indifferents, emotions, and cosmopolitanism. Finally, I will briefly use the same Stoic framework to compare Trump to other current leaders from across the political spectrum, to show that a Stoic analysis is useful in general when it comes to arriving at reasonable judgments concerning the character of our leaders.

Practical wisdom (phronesis)

The Greco-Romans distinguished between theoretical and practical wisdom. The first one, sophia, makes up part of the root of the word philosophy, which translates to “love [philo] of wisdom.” The second one, phronesis, is the one the Stoics are typically more concerned with.

Generally speaking, sophia and phronesis represent different but complementary dimensions of wisdom. Sophia encompasses the more abstract, theoretical understanding of universal truths and principles—knowledge of how the world fundamentally works and what constitutes the good life. Phronesis, by contrast, is wisdom applied to concrete situations, the ability to determine the right course of action in particular circumstances, to recognize what virtue demands in specific contexts. While sophia might inform us that justice is a virtue, for instance, phronesis enables us to discern what justice requires in complex real-world situations. A leader might possess impressive theoretical knowledge about governance but lack the practical wisdom to effectively implement these principles when faced with the complexities of actual leadership challenges.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Both Cicero and the Stoic Epictetus further narrowed down the meaning of phronesis, which they understood as the answer to the question of the knowledge of what is good and evil. They answered that question in slightly different, but compatible ways: for Cicero (in his De Finibus), virtue is the only good, or at least the chief good; for Epictetus, sound judgment, resulting from a well functioning faculty of prohairesis (i.e., choice) is the true good. Either way, Donald Trump seems to be deficient here, though he is certainly not alone among politicians. Most people, leaders definitely not excluded, seem to think that what is good are externals, i.e., things like wealth, reputation, fame, power, and so forth. Not virtue, meaning excellence of character. There are only a few statesmen I can think of who are at least partial exceptions. Cicero was arguably one of them. In recent times, perhaps Churchill. And in the contemporary landscape, perhaps Angela Merkel. Again, in part, and on the basis of what they have said and done. Trump—with his obsession for wealth, fame, and power—most definitely doesn’t make the cut.

Courage (andreia)

In terms of the second cardinal virtue, courage (andreia in Greek), Trump would appear to do better. After all, it takes courage to stand firm when one’s decisions are roundly criticized and one is regularly mocked by the press and the evening comedians. Trump’s stance on tariffs and the trade war with China during the early part of his second term, or his stance about the Covid pandemic during his first term, would seem to qualify.

But there is a difference between moral courage—which is what the Stoics are concerned with—and combativeness. That difference is the same we can perceive between doing what’s right despite difficulties on the one hand, and mere eagerness to engage in confrontation on the other hand. Consider an example: the Nazi soldier who fights valiantly is not courageous in the Stoic sense, though he may be said to be brave in the face of danger. True moral courage would require him to turn his weapons around and fight the Nazi. From what I can see, the 47th President of the United States can more fairly be described as confrontational than courageous.

Another reason why Trump might be said to score low on andreia is his response to challenges and setbacks. When he lost the 2020 election (I’m sorry, but he did), his reaction was denial and at least the indirect encouragement of a violent riot on January 6th of the following year. A similar pattern of denial and lashing out clearly emerged in other contexts, such as the many legal challenges Trump faced over the last several years.

It is also not in accordance with andreia to be unwilling to acknowledge one’s mistakes and to change course when the circumstances require it. It takes courage to face uncomfortable truths.

Justice (dikaiosyne)

The third cardinal virtue, that of justice, does not refer to an overall theory of what is right or wrong, nor does it necessarily have much to do with the nowadays popular phrase “social justice,” which denotes a particular, left-leaning, conception of the term. Rather, dikaiosyne, as the Greeks called it, has to do with how we, personally, treat other people, and the ideal is to treat them fairly and with respect, the way we would, presumably, like to be treated ourselves.

I’m afraid that Trump’s rhetoric when dealing both with political rivals and with undocumented immigrants is far from the Stoic standard in matters of justice. He regularly uses demeaning or even dehumanizing language, which seems to delight his most hardcore supporters, and which would have been simply unthinkable in a politician just a few years ago. (Try this mental thought experiment: take one of Trump’s famous characterizations of either his rivals or of immigrants and put them in the mouth of Barack Obama, George W. Bush, or defeated candidate Mitt Romney. Do you honestly think they would have survived a single day?)

Trump’s relationship with the truth is also in tension with dikaiosyne, though he is certainly not alone among politicians in that department. Speaking truthfully to others is part and parcel of respecting their dignity as human beings, and it is also a major aspect of treating others fairly, but Trump seems to have a rather lose relationship with the concept of truth, one that is perhaps best described by a famous book by philosopher Harry Frankfurt.

Temperance (sophrosyne)

The fourth cardinal virtue is sophrosyne, that is, temperance. Musonius Rufus, Epictetus’s teacher, argued that it is the most crucial of the virtues, because if one cannot be temperate one is going to have a really hard time practicing any of the other virtues. So, what does Donald Trump’s behavior tell us about this aspect of his character?

His obsessive use of social media, at all times of day and night, as well as the fact that he frequently lashes out at his perceived enemies are definitely not hallmarks of temperance. Nor, of course, is Trump’s penchant for a naked display of both wealth and power. When he goes around referring to his golden toilet, or telling people that he is pleased when heads of states “kiss my ass” in deference (assuming that’s true, which is doubtful), he is obviously not aligning his behavior with a moderate philosophical approach to life.

A few dominant political themes to consider

While a complete analysis of Donald Trump from a Stoic perspective would require a much longer essay than it is reasonable to attempt here, perhaps we can focus on a few of the major themes that characterize Stoic philosophy and see how n. 47 fares.

For instance, consider the famous “indifferents,” that is, things that have some practical import but that are not even close to being in the ballpark of the virtues we just examined, in the Stoic value scale. Stoicism teaches that wealth, fame, and power are indifferent in the literal sense that they do not make a difference to our virtue. As Epictetus clearly states (Enchiridion 44), to say “I am richer than you are therefore I am superior to you” is a non-sequitur.

Wealth, fame, power and the rest of the so-called “externals” (meaning, outside of our character) become “preferred” only in case in which the individual uses them to benefit others. Otherwise, and especially in the case in which they are used to benefit primarily oneself at the expense of others, they are most decidedly “dispreferred.” I will leave it to the reader to decide whether the use that Donald Trump has made of externals throughout his life and political career means that, in his case, they should be classed as preferred or dispreferred.

A second major Stoic theme is that of the emotions. They are divided into two major groups: unhealthy (so-called pathē) and healthy (the eupatheiai). The difference is that the second group is aligned with reason while the first one is not. Donald Trump seems to suffer from serious bouts of anger, which is the most destructive of the unhealthy emotions, according to the Stoics, so much so that Seneca wrote a whole book about it.

Then we have the fundamental Stoic notion of cosmopolitanism, the idea, which originated with the Cynics and the Stoics, that we ought to behave as if every human being on the planet—regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, creed, and so forth—is our brother or sister. Just because one is a cosmopolitan it doesn’t mean one automatically and mindlessly is in favor of indiscriminate immigration or open borders. I consider myself a cosmopolitan, for instance, and yet I wouldn’t want either policy to be enacted either now or even in the medium term.

However, those are the ultimate goals of someone who recognizes, as Epictetus says of Socrates (Discourses I.9) that we are only accidentally “from Athens or Corinth,” and that more fundamentally we are citizens of the world. Trump’s “America First” rhetoric, his emotionally loaded talk about immigrants, and his ongoing actions as President, directly clash with a cosmopolitan view of things.

Comparison with other leaders

There are many contemporary statesmen and politicians one could compare Trump too, so let me try to pick a few examples that I think are representative and which are drawn from across the political spectrum, beginning with the President of France, Emmanuel Macron. He is a centrist leader who provides a contrast to Trump in terms of temperance and communication style. His technocratic approach versus Trump’s more populist style perhaps also offers a good comparison in terms of the general virtue of wisdom.

Italy’s Giorgia Meloni is a right-wing Prime Minister, sharing some political alignment with Trump but differing in style and approach. Meloni’s more measured public persona is in sharp contrast with Trump’s, in terms of Stoic temperance.

Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, from Brazil, returned to power after imprisonment, an episode that provides us with an interesting case study in Stoic resilience. You may want to compare how da Silva faced adversity with Trump’s typical reactions when he is under fire.

Narendra Modi, from India, has a strong nationalist orientation and devoted base, just like Trump. Modi, like Trump, doesn’t score very well either in terms of cosmopolitanism nor in terms of social justice.

Finally, Canada’s Justin Trudeau was until recently the leader of one of America’s closest allies but characterized by a very different political orientation. His approach to international relations and justice contrasts sharply with Trump’s own.

I realize that depending on one’s political leanings and ideology all these comparisons may be flipped around. But I honestly don’t think that one could do that while at the same time attempting to be true to the Stoic philosophical approach.

What’s the point?

The above isn’t meant to be a partisan hatchet job at an individual who is currently a leader in the conservative movement. That’s because Stoicism, per se, is neither conservative nor progressive. Not only it would be anachronistic to attach such labels to a philosophy developed over two millennia ago in a very different culture, if anything many historical Stoics would qualify as “conservatives” more than progressives. Perhaps the most obvious example is Cato the Younger, the Roman senator and archenemy of Julius Caesar who is much praised by Seneca. Cato was a leading member of the optimates faction in the Senate, that is, the group of senators who usually stood in defense of the privileges of the aristocracy and against the sort of populist reforms pushed by politicians aligned with the rival populares faction, of which Caesar was a major exponent (despite himself being immensely rich).

Nor is it true that I personally don’t have respect for a number of individual conservative politicians, current or past, despite my own political leanings usually being on the moderate left of the political spectrum. I have already mentioned by admiration for Winston Churchill, who I think did embody a number of Stoic values, and in fact consciously so, given how steeped his education was in the classics, particularly Cicero. Among contemporary readers, again despite my disagreement in terms of both general political orientation and specific decisions, Germany’s Angela Merkel stands out.

But, one might reasonably object, Donald Trump never claimed to be a Stoic, so what’s the point of this sort of exercise? Whether one is or is not a Stoic, their character matters, especially when it comes to political leaders. I’d much rather have someone in charge who I think is a decent person though I disagree with his policies than someone with whom I agree in theory but who turns out to be a crook or extremely unreliable. Give me a Churchill over a Bill Clinton, any time.

The point of this exercise, then, was not to bash Donald J. Trump, a futile exercise if there ever was one. It was, rather, to help thoughtful people to frame their judgments of him and his policies in a way that reflects one’s commitment to virtue and ideas like cosmopolitanism, the cultivation of emotions aligned with reason, and a proper use of external goods.

One final word of caution, assuming you’ve made it so far and that you broadly agree with my analysis: resist the temptation to demonize people you disagree with, even vehemently. Trump is not “evil,” whatever that means. From a Stoic perspective, he just suffers from a defective prohairesis, or faculty of judgment. And as Marcus Aurelius reminds us (VIII.59), the only two things we can do in such cases are teaching others and cultivate our patience, though that does not exempt us from taking political action or practical steps to alleviate the suffering imposed by misguided people on others. A Stoic opposition for the 21st century can take many forms indeed.