Einstein, Stoic?

Here’s a pretty serious argument for why Albert Einstein was a Stoic

Einstein sticking his tongue out, from https://rarehistoricalphotos.com/albert-einstein-tongue-1951/, original photo credit by Arthur Sasse.

I’ve been into Einstein, of late. Some time ago I published an essay on his epistemology, which I think is perfectly sensible and ought to be taken seriously by both scientists and philosophers, not to mention everyone else. I then read (and briefly reviewed) the very good biography by Walter Isaacson. (Also check out Isaacson’s biography of Benjamin Franklin, as well as an essay I wrote about his crucial contribution to the Declaration of Independence.)

While enjoying Isaacson’s book, I was reminded of a short essay Einstein wrote in 1930, entitled “What I believe,” published in the collection Living Philosophies and available in the public domain. Let’s take a look and see the extent to which Einstein, I think, was a Stoic, even though as far as I know he never mentioned Stoic philosophy explicitly. (He did read and mention Baruch Spinoza, who was in turn heavily influenced by the Stoics.)

“Man is here for the sake of other men—above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellow men, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”

This is a clear statement of the Stoic view that the point of life is to live “according to nature,” and that since human nature is that of a rational and social creature, this means to do our best to live well with others, whether they are our close relatives and friends or complete strangers on the other side of the planet. Compare:

“It is of course required of a man that he should benefit his fellow-men—many if he can; if not, a few; if not a few, those who are nearest; if not these, himself. For when he renders himself useful to others, he engages in public affairs.” (Seneca, On Leisure 3.5)

Einstein continues:

“I do not believe we can have any freedom at all in the philosophical sense, for we act not only under external compulsion but also by inner necessity. Schopenhauer’s saying—‘A man can surely do what he wills to do, but he cannot determine what he wills’—impressed itself upon me in youth.”

The Stoics were determinists, believing in universal cause and effect. But, like Einstein and Schopenhauer, they recognized that we do make decisions, that is, we have a will. The result is a position that modern philosophers, such as Daniel Dennett, refer to as compatibilism. To explain how this works, the famous Stoic logician Chrysippus of Soli came up with the following metaphor:

“For instance, if you roll a cylindrical stone over a sloping, steep piece of ground, you do indeed furnish the beginning and cause of its rapid descent, yet soon it speeds onward, not because you make it do so, but because of its peculiar form and natural tendency to roll; just so the order, the law, and the inevitable quality of fate set in motion the various classes of things and the beginnings of causes, but the carrying out of our designs and thoughts, and even our actions, are regulated by each individual’s own will and the characteristics of his mind.” (Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights 7.2)

The point is that a cylinder rolls not just because it is subject to an external force (we push it) but also because it is in the (internal) nature of cylinders to roll. If you push a cube, you won’t get the same effect. Similarly, in this instance the nature of human beings to respond to external stimuli, but to do so in a way that originates from our internal mechanisms, most importantly what the Stoics called our prohairesis, which modern cognitive scientists may identify as the executive function of the brain, located in the prefrontal cortex.

Einstein again:

“This conviction is a perpetual breeder of tolerance, for it does not allow us to take ourselves or others too seriously; it makes further for a sense of humor.”

Again, the Stoics would wholeheartedly agree. Compare to this passage:

“‘Shouldn’t a thief or an adulterer be eliminated, just for being who he is?’ No, and you’d do better to phrase your question like this: ‘Should we do away with this person because he’s mistaken and misled about matters of supreme importance, and because he’s become blind—not in the sense that he’s lost the ability to distinguish white and black by sight, but because he’s lost the mental ability to distinguish good and bad?’ If you put the question like this, you’ll realize how inhumane it is, and see that it’s no different from saying, ‘So shouldn’t we kill this blind person, or this deaf person?’ If a person is injured most by the loss of the most important things, and if the most important thing in every individual is right will, what’s the point in getting angry with someone if he loses it?” (Epictetus, Discourses 1.18.5-8)

Epictetus sees people who do bad things as defective in their will, and therefore sick and damaged human beings. The proper response is not to kill or do away with them, but to help them, if possible, to recover their ability to make right decisions. Of course, this is not at all incompatible with also making sure that they are not in a position to hurt innocents.

Back to Einstein:

“The ideals which have always shone before me and filled me with the joy of living are goodness, beauty, and truth. To make a goal of comfort or happiness has never appealed to me; a system of ethics built on this basis would be sufficient only for a herd of cattle.”

Here Einstein clearly meant by “happiness” the sort of common, unreflective hedonism that characterizes most people’s lives. Indeed, his comparison with a herd of cattle is very similar to language often used by the Stoics. Instead, he says, we should seek goodness, beauty, and truth. For the ancient Stoics those three concepts were deeply interrelated, as I explained in an essay on Stoic aesthetics.

Einstein, like many scientists and especially physicists, believed that the universe and its workings are characterized by an inner, functional beauty (similar to the Stoic concept of summetria), and that beauty is therefore itself a guide to truth. As for goodness, this of course was made possible for the Stoics by the practice of virtue, and that practice gives us pleasure, because it is also a kind of beauty. Compare:

“So make sure you never act like a wild beast; if you do, you stop being human and you’re not fulfilling your potential. Make sure that you never act like a sheep, because that’s another way to stop being human. What is to act like sheep? When we act to satisfy our belly or our genitals, when we act without purpose, when we act grubbily or heedlessly, where have we sunk? To the level of sheep. What have we destroyed? Our rational faculty. When we act aggressively, with intent to injure, passionately, and impetuously, where have we sunk? To the level of wild beasts. … These are all ways in which we destroy our potential as human beings.” (Epictetus, Discourses 2.9.3-7)

Einstein:

“Possessions, outward success, publicity, luxury—to me these have always been contemptible. I believe that a simple and unassuming manner of life is best for everyone, best both for the body and the mind.”

This is a rejection of the common appeal of what the Stoics called externals, that is things like wealth, fame, material possessions, and the like. For the Stoics these were “indifferent,” in the literal sense that they do not make a difference to the only thing that matters, our own character and willingness to act in agreement with nature. For instance:

“No one is worthy of the gods except he who has disdained riches. I do not forbid you to possess them, but I want to bring you to the point at which you possess them without fear. There is only one way to achieve this: by persuading yourself that you can live happily without them, and by regarding them as always about to depart.” (Seneca, Letters 18.13)

Let’s continue with what Einstein has to say:

“[I have always had a] passionate interest in social justice and social responsibility … [but] I have never belonged wholeheartedly to country or state, to my circle of friends, or even to my own family.”

He sounds almost like Socrates here, who did recognize his country (Athens), and did care for his friends and family, but for whom the notions of justice and virtue were far more important and encompassed all of humanity. Again, consider:

“We can only follow the example of Socrates, and if someone asks where we’re from, never say ‘I’m an Athenian’ or ‘I’m a Corinthian,’ but ‘I’m a citizen of the universe.’” (Epictetus, Discourses 1.9.1)

It is worth noting that Einstein considered himself a cosmopolitan in the Stoic sense. He always held multiple passports, and twice renounced German citizenship.

At this point in “What I believe” Einstein tackles the issue of democracy and tyranny:

“My political ideal is democracy. Everyone should be respected as an individual, but no one idolized. … Degeneracy follows every autocratic system of violence, for violence inevitably attracts moral inferiors. … This subject brings me to that vilest offspring of the herd mind—the odious militia. The man who enjoys marching in line and file to the strains of music falls below my contempt; he received his great brain by mistake—the spinal cord would have been amply sufficient.”

For the Stoics any given form of government was, technically speaking, an indifferent in the sense explained above, and the virtuous person will simply do her best no matter what the circumstances. However, Cicero—who was not exactly a Stoic, but pretty close—clearly states in his De Re Publica that the best system of government is one that is characterized by the sort of division of powers and reciprocal checks and balances that are distinctive of modern democracies.

Moreover, we have a record of a number of Stoics who opposed what they considered tyranny, for instance in the persons of Julius Caesar, Nero, Vespasian, and Domitian. The obvious role model, again, is Socrates:

“When the tyrants sent him to fetch Leon, he regarded the mission as shameful, and so he didn’t give it even a moment’s thought, although he knew that he would very probably be put to death.” (Epictetus, Discourses 4.1.166)

In the 1950s Einstein was targeted by Senator Joseph McCarthy. McCarthy considered but ultimately did not dare to call Einstein himself to testify about his alleged allegiance with communism (there was none). But many of the people who were called to testify by the Senator or in front of the infamous House Un-American Activities Committee took the 5th amendment, invoking their right to avoid self-incrimination. Einstein openly suggested to his colleagues that they should instead invoke the 1st amendment, the one that protects freedom of speech. Freedom of speech (parrhesia) was also one of the three freedoms cherished by the Stoics and their philosophical cousins, the Cynics (the other two were liberty from society-imposed restrictions, eleutheria, and self-sufficiency, autarkeia).

Einstein with his cherub smile, from What I Believe, 1930.

Back again to Einstein:

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”

This passage reminds me of several in Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, where he repeatedly makes a point of pausing to contemplate the vastness of space and time and to remind ourselves of our deep interconnection with Nature:

“The followers of Pythagoras recommend that we should start the day by looking up at the sky to remind ourselves of entities that remain constant and unchanging as they accomplish their work, and of their orderliness and purity, and their nakedness, given that nothing veils a star.” (Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 11.27)

Einstein concludes his essay in this fashion:

“This knowledge, this feeling [of awe at Nature] is at the center of true religiousness. In this sense, and in this sense only, I belong in the ranks of devout religious men. I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation, whose purposes are modeled after our own—a God, in short, who is but a reflection of human frailty. Neither can I believe that the individual survives the death of his body, although feeble souls harbor such thoughts through fear or ridiculous egotism. It is enough for me to contemplate the mystery of conscious life perpetuating itself through all eternity, to reflect upon the marvelous structure of the universe which we can dimly perceive, and to try humbly to comprehend even an infinitesimal part of the intelligence manifested in nature.”

The Stoics were pantheists, that is they believed that the universe—infused with the Logos, that is, rationality—is God itself. It is not, as Einstein says, a God that concerns itself with the affairs of individual human beings, though we literally are bits and pieces of that god-universe.

The Stoics also did not believe in the survival of the soul after death, as everything is made of matter, and matter perishes and is continuously recycled into the cosmic whole. If they had any “religious” sense it was exactly along the lines that Einstein describes, an admiration of the structure and beauty of the universe. As in the following:

“Lead me, Zeus, both you and Destiny,

Wheresoe’r you have ordained for me,

And I shall gladly follow. And if I am unwilling

Out of wickedness, still I shall follow.’

‘Whoever complies nobly with necessity

We count as wise and expert in the ways of the gods.”

(Cleanthes Hymn to Zeus, Epictetus, Enchiridion 53)

In this famous hymn, Cleanthes isn’t referring to Zeus as a personal deity, but rather as a metaphor for the rational universe itself, where necessity (cause and effect) shapes our destiny. The poem presents us with a fundamental choice that echoes Einstein's perspective: we can either embrace our place in the cosmic order with wisdom and nobility, or resist it through what Einstein called “fear or ridiculous egotism.” This striking parallel between ancient Stoic thought and Einstein's scientific philosophy shows how timeless wisdom can emerge from both contemplation of nature and rational inquiry into its laws.