Should we get involved in politics? By “politics” I don’t mean partisanship, though unfortunately the two terms are increasingly becoming synonyms. Indeed, one can make the argument – as did George Washington, James Madison, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson – that political parties, as perhaps inevitable as they may be, are inimical to healthy politics.
No, I mean “politics” as in the original Greek: politiká (Πολιτικά), literally meaning “affairs of the cities” and, by extension, the affairs of society at large.
As a Stoic, I believe we all have a duty to engage in politics thus understood, and I often say that one of my reasons to study but eventually abandon Epicureanism was precisely that Epicurus counseled against socio-political involvement. At which point one modern Epicurean or another (there are a few of them out there) tells me that my understanding of that venerable ancient philosophy is all wrong. Is it? Let’s find out.
Epicureanism and doing politics
Epicurus’s advice to avoid political and social involvement is – I think – a central pillar of his ethical system, which is rooted in the pursuit of ataraxia (tranquillity, or freedom from mental disturbance). While he does not have a single “anti-politics” essay, his stance is preserved through several key aphorisms and historical fragments.
The most famous expression of this is the Greek maxim “lathe biōsas,” usually translated as “live unnoticed.” But perhaps the most direct textual evidence for the Epicurean rejection of public life in favor of private tranquility is found in Principal Doctrine 14:
“Although some measure of safety from others comes from the power to fight them off and from abundant wealth, the purest security comes from solitude and breaking away from the herd.”
Epicurus argues that while people sometimes enter politics to find “security,” the competition and public scrutiny actually create more vulnerability and anxiety than they resolve. Moreover, in Principal Doctrine 7, he critiques the motive behind political ambition:
“Some seek fame and status, thinking that they could thereby protect themselves against other men. If their lives really are secure, then they have attained a natural good; if, however, they are insecure, they still lack what they originally sought.”
He implies that political power rarely provides the stability it promises, as it is dependent on the empty opinions of others, which are volatile and cause mental disturbance.
The Vatican Sayings (a collection of Epicurean maxims discovered in the 19th century) also contains a blunt dismissal of the political life:
“We must free ourselves from the prison of public education and politics.” (VS 58)
What about lathe biōsas? Though the phrase “live unnoticed” is not in the Principal Doctrines, it is widely attributed to Epicurus by later writers like Plutarch, who wrote a famous polemic – part of his Moral Essays – titled “Is ‘Live Unknown’ a Wise Precept?” His answer, predictably, is no, but to an Epicurean, being “noticed” (i.e., having fame, power, reputation) is a vain and empty desire because it is not necessary for the removal of bodily pain and in fact it actively prevents the stillness of the mind.
The disturbance Epicurus warns of is specifically the fear of losing status and the pain of competition. In contrast, he founded the Garden – a private community outside the city walls of Athens – to demonstrate that true security is found in a small circle of friends rather than in the polis. (Of course aspiring Garden Epicureans will have to find a wealthy donor to sponsor their retreat from the world, as well as hope that the general political situation is stable enough not to make them targets for outsiders.)
Counter-examples: Epicurean statesmen and politicians
But wait a minute, argue my Epicurean friends, what about all those historical examples of politicians and statesmen who adhered to the philosophy and yet, very clearly, engaged in politics?
This is a fascinating historical “gotcha” that even scholars use to test the boundaries of Epicurean theory versus practice. Despite the “live unnoticed” maxim, history gives us (not many) examples of prominent Epicureans in high office, most notably in the Roman Republic. Such men include Gaius Cassius Longinus (one of the assassins of Julius Caesar), as well as, ironically, Caesar himself! (Though Caesar can at best be characterized as “Epicurean-leaning.”)
To reconcile these figures with Epicurus’s teachings, we have to look at three specific Epicurean counters, or loopholes, that allowed for political involvement.
i. The “Safety and Stability” loophole. Epicurus himself provided an “out” in his teachings. While he advised against politics, he acknowledged that if the political situation is so unstable that your personal safety (and your Garden) is at risk, you might be forced to intervene.
In Principal Doctrine 39, for instance, he discusses the man who has organized his external affairs to be in harmony. But if a tyrant or a civil war makes it impossible for him to live in peace, the Epicurean calculus shifts and he has two options:
* Action A: stay quiet and get killed or exiled (maximal disturbance);
* Action B: take political action to stabilize the state (temporary disturbance in exchange for long-term peace).
So for someone like Cassius, the argument was likely that Caesar had become a disturber of the peace whose presence made a quiet life of philosophy impossible. Killing the tyrant was a move to restore the conditions necessary for ataraxia. As for Caesar himself, I lean toward the notion that it’s simply hard to take his alleged Epicureanism seriously, given all we know about his decidedly un-Epicurean life.
ii. The “Natural Disposition” argument. The Epicurean school was more psychologically nuanced than many realize. Later Epicureans, particularly Philodemus of Gadara (whose scrolls were found at Herculaneum), suggested that different people have different temperaments. If your nature is so ambitious that staying out of politics causes you more mental anguish and “itchiness” than being in it, it might actually be more “pleasurable” for you to serve in office. I suppose one could generously allow that this was Julius Caesar’s attitude. The overall goal is still the same (peace of mind), but the path is customized to the individual’s psychological makeup, though I must add that this sort of more nuanced Epicureanism begins to me to look not much like Epicureanism at all.
The main point is that Epicureanism was, above all, a philosophy of survival. If the state is a storm, the Stoic wants to steer the ship because it’s her duty, while the Epicurean wants to get to the harbor – but if she has to grab an oar to keep the ship from sinking, she will.
More broadly: Epicurus on justice
We can profitably expand our discussion to the broader issue of justice which, generally speaking, is tightly linked with the notion of social and political involvement. The goal of politics, after all, is to bring about a just state and society, though of course people disagree on what that means, exactly.
Epicurus’s view of justice is surprisingly modern: he rejects the idea that justice is a divine law or an inherent part of the universe. Instead, he describes it as a social contract – a purely functional tool created by humans to ensure personal safety and minimize the disturbance that gets in the way of ataraxia. His specific arguments on this are found in the final section of the Principal Doctrines (31–40). In PD 31, Epicurus provides his definition:
“Natural justice is a pledge of reciprocal benefit, to prevent one man from harming or being harmed by another.”
For him, justice has no “independent existence” (PD 33). It is not an abstract ideal, like Plato’s Forms. It is, rather, a temporary and local agreement. If a law ceases to be mutually advantageous, Epicurus argues it is no longer just (PD 37).
Epicureans view the social contract as a tool for the sage (the wise person, which Epicurus considered himself to be) to achieve a life without fear. It provides protection because by agreeing not to harm others, the individual gains a reciprocal agreement that others won’t harm him. It also provides freedom from anxiety: if you violate the contract (i.e., commit an injustice), you lose your ataraxia, because even if you aren’t caught, you will live in constant fear of being caught. As Epicurus says in PD 34:
“Injustice is not an evil in itself, but only in consequence of the fear which is associated with the apprehension of being discovered.”
Crucially, while Epicurus supports the existence of laws and justice for the sake of order, he does not believe the wise person should participate in creating or administering them unless absolutely necessary for their own safety.
Epicureans endorse what we would call a minimalist state, on the grounds that the state is a necessary evil that keeps the herd from harming the philosopher, a kind of libertarianism ante litteram. Moreover, Epicureans value friendship over citizenship: Epicurus argues that true security is found not by means of the legal protection of the state, but through the private social contract of friendship. In PD 40, he notes that those who have the power to live in trust with their neighbors (friends) live the most “agreeable life.”
So, for Epicurus justice is a shield, not a calling. You respect the law so that the world leaves you alone, allowing you to retreat to your Garden and focus on philosophy and friendship.
The comparison with the Stoics
While both schools sought tranquility, they took opposite paths to get there, and moreover, while for the Epicureans, ataraxia was the telos, or goal, for the Stoics it was a byproduct of a life of virtue.
The Stoics believed that humans are social animals by nature and that we therefore have a natural duty to the community. The Epicureans believed that humans are sensory animals and that we have a rational duty to protect our own peace of mind. Interestingly, they both thought they were living “in agreement with nature.” The contrast between the two schools can be summarized by way of their respective catchphrases: the Stoics said, “duty and virtue,” while the Epicureans had their “live unnoticed.”
The Stoics saw justice as a universal, objective truth, whereas Epicureans saw it as a human invention. For a Stoic, justice is an inherent part of the Logos (universal reason). It is not a choice, it is a law of nature. So to be unjust is to live in opposition to the universe itself. Epicureans, as we have seen, instead viewed justice as a tool. It is a mutual agreement, a pledge of utility between people not to harm each other. If a law doesn’t help people feel safe, it isn’t “just.”
What, then, follows in terms of political action? This is where the two schools diverged most sharply in daily life, as the following table summarizes:
Moreover, both schools valued other people, but for different reasons. The Stoics practiced cosmopolitanism (i.e., being a “citizen of the world”), in that they believed we should mentally pull everyone – from our family to a stranger on the other side of the planet – into our circle of concern. Helping others is a duty because we are all fragments of the same divine reason, or – in a more secular fashion – we are all brothers and sisters by nature. Epicurus, by contrast, famously said:
“Of all the things which wisdom provides to make life entirely happy, much the greatest is the possession of friendship.” (PD 27)
However, our duty toward friends is exclusive. Epicureans argued that you cannot be true friends with the whole world, so you should focus your energy on a small, tight-knit group of like-minded people who support your pursuit of ataraxia.
What happens when these two philosophies are deployed in action? For instance, if a Stoic saw a stranger in a burning building, they would save them because it is the virtuous thing to do. An Epicurean would likely do the same, but their reasoning would be that living with the guilt of not helping would cause them more mental pain than the risk of the fire.
Overall, Stoics believe we are all fragments of the cosmic machine, and our job is to play our part well, whether that part is that of a slave (Epictetus) or of an emperor (Marcus Aurelius). Justice and politics are our responsibilities. Epicureans, by contrast, believe that we are individuals in a random universe. Our job is to stay safe, avoid unnecessary stress, and enjoy the company of friends. Justice is a contract for safety, and politics is a trap.
What are we going to do with a tyrant?
Finally, let’s consider the difference between Stoicism and Epicureanism in the specific case of dealing with a tyrant, as the situation perfectly illustrates the divide between Stoic duty and Epicurean tranquility. Because both schools lived through periods of intense political upheaval (the Hellenistic kingdoms and the Roman Empire), this was not a theoretical question – it was a life-or-death reality.
For a Stoic, if a tyrant orders you to do something shameful or unjust, your duty is clear: resist, as in the case of the famous Stoic opposition. After all, virtue is the only good, and even death is an indifferent. The reasoning is that we are a citizen of the world, so if the ruler of our local state violates the laws of Nature (i.e., prosocial reason), we must remain loyal to Nature and act accordingly. The goal is not necessarily to win, but to maintain our integrity (prohairesis).
Perhaps the most famous example here is Cato the Younger. When Julius Caesar rose to power and threatened the Republic, Cato fought him to the end. When it was clear he had lost, he committed suicide rather than live under a tyrant. To the Stoics, Cato wasa role model because he prioritized his moral character over his very survival.
Compare this to Titus Pomponius, nicknamed Atticus, Cicero’s best friend since childhood. He was an Epicurean, and accordingly decided to leave Rome and spend his life in self-imposed exile in Athens. He did live to the respectable age of 77.
An Epicurean would view Cato’s suicide as a tragic waste of the only life he would ever have. For Epicurus, the goal is to avoid pain and disturbance, and getting executed by a tyrant is the ultimate disturbance. The underlying reasoning questions the wisdom of provoking a powerful, dangerous man. If you can avoid the tyrant’s notice, do so. If you are forced into his presence, be polite and compliant so long as it doesn’t cause you more pain than the alternative.
Again, the goals for Epicureans are survival and safety. If the political climate becomes toxic, they flee the city to the safety of their private Garden. As we have seen, the only reason an Epicurean would resist is if the tyrant’s demands made life so miserable that ataraxia became impossible.
There is, interestingly, a grey area between the two philosophies, personified by Seneca the Younger, who was a Stoic but often quoted Epicurus approvingly.
Seneca was an advisor to the tyrant Nero and spent his life trying to bridge two worlds. He argued that a Stoic should be involved in politics to do good, but he sometimes sounded like an Epicurean, especially toward the end of his life, when he wrote about the need to “withdraw into oneself” when the state becomes too corrupt to save. Eventually, Nero ordered his suicide, and Seneca met it with Stoic steadfastness.
If we wanted to summarize the results of the “tyrant test” we could say that Stoicism asks: “What is my duty to the world?,” while Epicureanism asks: “What is the most painless way to navigate this mess?”
Thank you, Massimo, for this very timely article and helpful comparison of the two approaches. There is a lot to sympathize with the urge to retreat from the toxic political climate globally and in some instances domestically, to maintain some sense of normality, calm and stability, and at least to some extent get out of all of the "noise".
Others are choosing to try to contribute to polis of their local communities, where they feel they can have some positive impact and make a contribution, when they feel they do not have much potential to impact matters nationally and globally, and which may feel overwhelming and depressing. I can certainly understand that approach.
We can perhaps try to see how we might be able to contribute to addressing larger scale issues, while recognizing it may be extremely limited. With collective action, perhaps the potential to contribute is a bit greater.
I see that an Epicurean has posted a rebuttal: https://epicureanfriends.substack.com/p/not-a-bunker-but-a-camp-a-response