Practice like a Stoic: 36, Catch and apply the dichotomy of control to initial impressions

Time to tackle the discipline of assent

Epictetus and impressions, image by Midjourney.

[This series of posts is based on A Handbook for New Stoics—How to Thrive in a World out of Your Control, co-authored by yours truly and Greg Lopez. It is a collection of 52 exercises, which we propose reader try out one per week during a whole year, to actually live like a Stoic. In Europe/UK the book is published by Rider under the title Live Like A Stoic. Below is this week’s prompt and a brief explanation of the pertinent philosophical background. Check the book for details on how to practice the exercise, download the exercise forms from The Experiment’s website, and comment below on how things are going. Greg and/or I will try our best to help out! This week’s exercise is found at pp. 215-217 of the paperback edition.]

“Make it your study then to confront every harsh impression with the words, ‘You are but an impression, and not at all what you seem to be.’ Then test it by those rules that you possess; and first by this—the chief test of all—‘Is it concerned with what is in our power or with what is not in our power?’ And if it is concerned with what is not in our power, be ready with the answer that it is nothing to you.” (Epictetus, Enchiridion, 1.5)

So, did you enjoy your week break after we finished the discipline of action? Nice, but now it’s time to get back to work! For the next several weeks we are going to focus on the third and last discipline, that of assent, which deals with refining our judgments so that we always act virtuously. This will then conclude our series on practicing like a Stoic.

If you made it this far, congratulations, you are now an advanced student of Stoicism! But you are not a sage, and in fact, we’re sorry to say that the likelihood of your becoming one is pretty slim. Seneca wrote that sages are as rare as the phoenix, the mythical bird that is reborn from its ashes. According to ancient Roman lore, phoenixes come by once every 500 years. Nevertheless, you are in excellent company; the point of Stoicism is not to become perfect, whatever that means, but to improve while simultaneously minimizing the inevitable occasional backslide.

What, then, is the Discipline of Assent? The third discipline will help you move from beginner to advanced proficiens, as Seneca says, using the Latin word for “the one who makes progress.” Think of it this way: When you learn how to drive a car, you first study the theory of what is and is not to be done. That is, what you should “desire” and “avoid” in order to drive a car well. You learn theory not for its own sake, but because you want to actually drive a real car, on real streets. The thing is, to become a good driver you need to internalize the theory and practice. Through practice, your decisions (and consequent movements) become automatic so that driving becomes effortless and your risk of accident is greatly reduced. This is what the Discipline of Assent will do for you: By paying very careful attention to the same subjects as the first two disciplines, you will gradually internalize Stoic precepts and become, if not quite a sage, a really good proficiens.

This chapter of the book opens with one of our favorite teachings from Epictetus, as it easily lends itself to a quick, practical guideline that the proficiens can keep handy for all situations. Every time you catch yourself making a judgment about some event or person, just stop and say (aloud, if you are alone, or are comfortable doing so in the company of others): “Hold on, you are just an impression, and not necessarily what you seem to be.” This forces you to slow down before making decisions or reacting to situations, in a sense just the opposite of that famous commercial slogan, “Just do it.” No, don’t just do it; stop and think about it first.

The occasions to use this approach are endless and quotidian. You may see someone attractive crossing the street and feel a more or less vague sense of lust. Instead of indulging it, ask yourself if it’s good for you to think in that way. You’ll quickly find that it isn’t, because that sort of thought will likely lead you to envy or frustration, or to pursue an affair while you are in a loving and valuable relationship, and so on. Or perhaps you sit down for dinner with friends and are repeatedly hit by the thought that it is good to help yourself to one more serving, and one more drink of the available wine. But it isn’t good for you, not really. Now imagine questioning the food and the wine (or your lust from the previous example), and saying to them, “Wait a minute, you are but an impression, and perhaps I should inquire further before giving assent to you.”

One last note on Epictetus’s conclusion: He doesn’t need to be taken literally when he says that if something is outside of your control it is “nothing to you.” After all, the Stoics thought that a number of things are preferred indifferents, that is, that you may reasonably want them, though you shouldn’t desire them; you shouldn’t attach your worth as a person to them. To go back to our earlier examples, you do want a relationship, you want food, and it’s okay to want to drink wine. These are pleasurable, or even necessary (the food, at least) things in life. But they are not under your complete control, and they do not make you a better (or worse) person. In this sense they are “nothing to you,” meaning that it’s fine if you have them and just as fine if you don’t, in terms of your progress on the path of virtue.