[Based on How to Give: An Ancient Guide to Giving and Receiving, by Seneca, translated by James M. Romm. Full book series here.]
I bet you didn’t realize that gift giving and receiving has a moral dimension, did you? At least, most of us nowadays are used to think of morality, or ethics, as having a rather specific and narrow domain: it is concerned with whether a particular action is right or wrong, and gifts rarely, if ever, seem to deserve that much attention.
But the ancient Greco-Romans understood the realm of ethics as far more encompassing, indeed it was concerned with pretty much everything a human being does, especially when it comes to how we treat other human beings. So giving and receiving gifts, being a common act of social intercourse, very much has an ethical dimension, which is why the Stoic philosopher Seneca the Younger wrote a whole book about it, entitled On Benefits, which James Romm has translated anew under the title How to Give, as part of the ongoing Princeton University Press’s series “Ancient Wisdom for Modern Readers.”
According to Seneca, humanity survives by means of two attributes: reason and what he calls societas, or sociability, that is, prosocial behavior. Nature has designed us to be sociable, which implies that we ought not to get angry with our fellow human beings, and generally speaking that we ought to behave virtuously, as for Seneca and the Stoics virtue is essentially synonymous with a prosocial attitude.
In modern parlance, we would say that humans evolved as highly intelligent and social animals, and that those attributes, built into us by natural selection, are fundamental for our very survival. Individual human beings don’t do very well in nature, they need coordination with and reciprocal help from other human beings. And reason is our chief evolutionary weapon, as the problem solving ability that it allows is our species’ equivalent of large muscles, running, flying, or fast swimming in other species.
Back to “benefits,” a word that sounds a bit strange to us moderns, but that represents a broad array of gift giving and receiving. Seneca warns us that if we expect something in return when we give a gift, then we are not giving anymore, we are engaging in a commercial transaction, or offering a bribe, depending on the circumstances. Likewise, when it comes to receiving, we ought to do it gracefully, with true gratitude, not with the ulterior motive of ingratiating the other person for future advantage.
It is an indication of how much Seneca valued the topic at hand that On Benefits is the longest of his books, longer even than On Anger, arguably his most famous one. Moreover, he also wrote a letter to Lucilius (n. 81) on the same topic. The letter may be considered an update to the book, and the last word by Seneca on the matter, since he died shortly thereafter.
Of course, Seneca had ample experience of receiving and giving gifts, being one of the most prominent people at Nero’s court. But translator James Romm wisely stays away from yet another discussion about whether or to what extent Seneca was morally compromised by his association with Nero. On Benefits stands on its own, and there is no reason to think that it doesn’t reflect Seneca’s genuine and honest reflections on the ethics of gift giving and receiving.
Two millennia after Seneca, we still attribute great importance to exchanging gifts. We do it every year to celebrate over-commercialized holidays like Christmas, or to mark people’s birthdays. But we don’t seem to pause and ponder the ethical aspect of what we are doing. As Seneca explains, gift giving creates obligations, but there are two ways to understand such obligations: as a transaction or as a source of social bonding. It is highly unfortunate that modern consumerism pushes us toward the first view and away from the second one. Reading what a Stoic wrote about this may finally nudge us back in the right direction.

The following are some highlights from How to Give, with accompanying brief commentaries:
“We don’t know how to give and receive. … The causes of this, as I see it, are multiple. First, we don’t select worthy recipients when we give. … I couldn’t easily say whether it’s worse to reject what one has received or demand back what one has given. … We find many ingrates, but we make more; we are sometimes harshly demanding and critical, sometimes flighty and regretful of our gift just after we give it, sometimes quarrelsome and prone to pick fights over tiny things.” (1.1)
We don’t know how to give and receive, says Seneca, in part because we don’t make good choices concerning to whom we should or should not give. Gifting is not something that should be done indiscriminately, just like any other action that has ethical dimensions. Ask yourself: why am I considering giving a gift to this person? Is it out of generosity, or is it because I want them to feel an obligation toward me? Are they the sort of person I should be associating myself with, or stay away from?
It’s about equally bad to reject a gift, a sign of ingratitude, as it is to demand one back, a sign of lack of generosity. As Seneca says, there are a lot of ingrates out there, but we contribute to making more by our own behavior, for instance by way of our demands and criticisms.
“Let’s give, not lend out for profit. … If someone doesn’t give because he didn’t receive, then he only gave in order to receive. … Here’s the mark of great and good hearts: To seek good deeds for their own sake, not for the profits that flow from them, and to look for good people even after meeting bad ones.” (1.1.9)
One of Seneca’s refrains is the need to practice generosity, to move away from a transactional view of life to one in which we do things for others because it is both right and rewarding in itself. Again, this very much goes against the grain of modern consumerism-capitalism, where everything tends to be framed as quid pro quo. I think this is one of the major reasons to embrace Stoicism, then as much as now: it dares to challenge an ingrained and pernicious view of the world and of human relations, presenting an alternative that is far more sustainable and gratifying.
“I must now explain the first of the things we have to learn—namely, what it is that we owe when someone’s given to us. Some think they owe the money they’ve received; others, the political office; others, the priesthood; others, the province. But these are only the markers of giving, not the gifts themselves. Gifts and good deeds can’t be touched by the hand; they’re enacted in the mind. Between the product of giving and the gift itself lies a huge gulf. The gift is not the gold, or the silver, or any of those things we think most important; it’s the very intent of the one who gives.” (1.5)
This is a brilliant insight by Seneca, superbly rendered in his prose. There is a gulf, as he says, between the gift itself and the real product of giving, and what matters is not the first but the latter. The kinds of tangible things we give to or receive from others are “markers,” as he puts it, of the real thing: the intention of the giver or the receiver.
In contemporary parlance we mean the same thing when we say “it’s the thought that counts,” except that the latter has become a standard phrase that people use when they are embarrassed by what they are giving, or receiving. Seneca, by contrast, reminds us that the thought is truly what counts, because the specific gifts are simply a token of that thought, that affection, that friendship, that love that we have for the people to whom we have given the actual gift.
“Sometimes those being helped must even be deceived, so that they’re not able to know from whom they benefited. It is said that Arcesilaus thought it best to give aid in secret to his friend, a poor man who concealed his poverty, who was moreover ill but did not admit this either, who lacked the means to pay for his needs. Arcesilaus snuck a small purse under the man’s pillow without his knowledge. That way the man, who was so pointlessly self-effacing, might find what he needed rather than receive it. ‘What?’ you ask. ‘He won’t know from whom he got it?’ Yes, let him not know, if not knowing is part of the gift he receives. Then I’ll do much else, I’ll give much, so that from those other deeds he’ll understand who did the first one. In the end, he won’t know he got something, but I’ll know that I gave.” (2.10)
The Arcesilaus mentioned here (316-241 BCE) is the founder of the Skeptical Academy to which Cicero had belonged. This is one of my favorite stories from antiquity, mentioned also by Plutarch in an essay entitled “How to distinguish a flatterer from a friend.” At the end of the anecdote Arcesilaus says that it doesn’t matter whether his friend will recognize who was his benefactor, because Arcesilaus himself will know.
Contrast this with much “philanthropy” (a Greek word meaning “love of humanity”) by modern billionaires. These people like to characterize themselves as “generous,” and yet they only give their money if they can be sure that their name is firmly attached to the deed and amply publicized. That’s not generosity, it is cunning self-advertising.
“For this virtue is entirely in our power, in a way justice is not. … Because the reward of all virtues is in the virtues themselves. … Therefore, let’s avoid ingratitude, not for another’s sake but for our own.” (Letter 81.19)
In the letter to Lucilius that constitutes an update to On Benefits Seneca reiterates the Stoic theme that virtue is valuable for its own sake, not because we are rewarded, materially or otherwise. Moreover, to be generous in giving, or grateful in receiving, is entirely up to us, unlike more difficult tasks, such as achieving social justice. So why not get ourselves into a generous frame of mind?
On Benefits is one of the best examples of practical philosophy. If you have been convinced by Seneca’s arguments and examples, show it by being more mindful the next time you consider giving a gift to someone, or on the next occasion you will find yourself on the receiving side of a gift. Generosity and gratitude are the words.
[Next in this series: How to Tell a Joke with Cicero and Quintilian. Previous installments: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII.]
I was reminded of a quote by Annie Dillard. She talks about writing and sharing her knowledge, but it's also about giving: Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.
Also, consider giving with a warm heart not a cold hand. Have a will, of course but don’t want till you croak to be generous.