Some Strange Features of Stoic Metaphysics

Evil, the Universe, God, etc. in Notebook 6

One of the most peculiar features of Stoic metaphysics, and I would add of classical metaphysics in general, is the view that there is no such thing as evil. There are things which are evil, but there is no evil property. Strictly speaking, evil does not exist.

This view is not limited to Stoicism. In St Augustine’s Confessions, for instance, there is a prolonged discussion of evil as a privation of being. Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury , writes about this in his book On Augustine:

Mali enim nulla natura est; sed amissio boni mali nomen accepit. Thus Augustine most epigrammatically sums up his view on what might best be called the ‘grammar’ of evil. Talking about evil is not like talking about things, about what makes the constituents of the world the sorts of things they are; it is talking about a process, about something that happens to the things that there are in the universe. Evil is not some kind of object – so we might render the phrase from the City of God – but we give the name of ‘evil’ to that process in which good is lost.

‘Evil’ is the name of the process in which good is lost. This, I believe, is true for Augustine just as much as it is true for Marcus Aurelius.

I do not know if I would call this view monistic, because I am not sure it is proper to say that good exists either. We might understand this classical view as at least non-dualistic. There are not two opposing forces, good and evil. Instead, there are things which are either in order or out of order. To be in order, to be serving one’s purpose or fulfilling one’s telos, is to be good. To do otherwise is to be evil, or at least trending toward evil.

Not all theories of good and evil are monistic or non-dualistic. Some are explicitly dualistic. Classic utilitarianism, which holds that what is good is that which causes pleasure and what is evil is that which causes pain, is one such theory. Manichaeism is a classical example. All of these theories suffer from a common objection, according to many classical thinkers. Namely, when one posits two opposing properties or forces, it is difficult to justify why good is good and evil is evil instead of the other way around. By what standard could we judge them? Themselves? Something else? If so, we run the risk of infinite regress.

This is brief, but I hope it illuminates a simple point: to many in the classical world, it was crucial that evil did not exist as a thing or a property.

I hope this excursion into Neo-Platonist Christian theology helps us make sense of Notebook 6 of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. This notebook begins with a peculiar paragraph:

The physical substance of the universe is compliant and plastic, but there’s nothing inherent in the reason that direct the universe that could cause it to do wrong. Badness isn’t one of its qualities, nor does it do things badly, nor is anything made worse by it. Everything comes into existence and runs its course in accordance with its will.

There are two thoughts here. One is what I highlighted above: ‘badness’ isn’t a quality of the universe. But there is another one, which becomes a theme of the notebook: everything that comes into existence is in accordance with the will of the universe.

Recall that sometimes Marcus speaks of God — like in §7 — but that he does not mean the Christian God. He means something like the Greek Logos, though of course that concept would be adapted by Christian theologians (and was already being adapted during Marcus’ lifetime). This is a rational will which orders the universe. For a human being, to live properly is to live in accordance with this rational will. To be vicious or evil is to live in opposition to this rational will.

And this is the second peculiar fact about Stoic metaphysics: it seems brutally fatalistic. Sometimes, Marcus speaks of the whole as if that is the locus of value. And in some sense, there is no way that universe can do wrong. If that is true, then from the perspective of the universe there seems to be no instance where anything is wrong.

For a Stoic like Marcus, this might be a source of comfort. Certain religious sects which believe in a strong form of divine providence also find this comforting — in all things, even the things apparently evil, one can trust that this is the work of God. But for me, and for many, it is a horrifying thought. If everything operates according to a rational will, and this will is surely must greater and more capable than our own, what are we supposed to do? When we strive, are we striving in vain? Should we just resign ourselves to whatever happens? C’est la vie?

Dyeing Your Mind

Unlike Notebook 5, which I discussed last week, Notebook 6 is a chapter which I believe modern readers will find difficult (and for good reason). It is one of the chapters in which Marcus’ metaphysical view of the world departs most radically from our own. It is also a chapter which I find is under-discussed by modern Stoics. The modern Stoics have a tendency of taking on Stoicism’s moral psychology, as I discussed last time, without taking on Stoicism’s metaphysics. But Notebook 6 falls apart without the scaffolding of Stoic metaphysics.