ROI and the Valuation of Friendship in Ancient Times
Maybe your brother-in-law recommended that podcast on the meditations of Marcus Aurelius or your neighbor claimed she took a stoic attitude to having shingles last summer or you’ve been wondering why that cooking website is called “Epicurious”?
References to the Epicureans and the Stoics—dominant schools of thought in Ancient Greece and Rome— are abundant in popular culture these days, but many merely scratch the surface, or worse, misrepresent, these traditions of the classical period. In his introduction to The Stoic
Philosophy of Seneca, Moses Hadas expresses his umbrage at simplifications ripe for Uber Eats marketing, explaining how "'Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die,' is a travesty of Epicureanism... as revels in the Garden seem mainly to have centered on mathematics, which can be pursued without emotional involvement and entail no hangover." Epicurus’ garden outside of Athens served as a campus of sorts for his school of philosophy, and there was no well-stocked snack bar; the emphasis was on simple meals among friends—wine, yes, but probably cut with water and paired with humble oat cakes. This repast provided pleasure, but not the indulgent kind that we associate with descriptions of “Epicurean” today.
The philosophy of Epicurus teaches that instead of following divine guidance, man should pursue his own pleasure, characterized by the absence of bodily pain and freedom from spiritual disturbance. For Epicurus, achieving equilibrium is key, and he believes happiness is determined by “the addition and subtraction of pleasure” with reasoning as the means of calibration. Moreover, “Courage does not come to be by nature, but by a reasoning out of what is advantageous. And friendship comes to be because of its utility; but one must nevertheless make a preliminary sacrifice [for a friend] (for one must also sow the ground), and it is [then] formed by a sharing among those who are fulfilled by their pleasures.” Because it results in an arrangement of “utility” for both parties, this view of friendship could be interpreted as opportunistic, but given Epicurus’ larger interest in proportion and consonance—for humanity as well as the design of the cosmos—I think his view would be that mutually beneficial relationships are a beautiful thing.
In contrast to Epicurus’ notions about attaining balance through give and take, Seneca argues for a more self-protective kind of conduct. His advice for living well is based upon the idea that if man is to cultivate reason, he must not allow emotions (be they good or bad in the extreme) “to impinge upon his soul.” In keeping with the Stoics’ praise of self-sufficiency, I’d suggest that Seneca’s version of this ideal state depends on being free from “emotional perturbations” as much as being free from the social obligations that he deems artificial in nature (see his treatise “On the Shortness of Life”).
This line of thinking begs us to consider: are friends a good return on investment (ROI)? He bemoans the cost in time extracted by “meaningless social duties,” but even close connections are on the chopping block when he states “everyone is used up for the sake of someone else.”
This is a brutally pragmatic thought, but it seems true to his feelings about the tax we pay on sharing ourselves with others, i.e., short changing ourselves the time and energy that would be better spent on cultivating reason (by reading philosophy, of course!). When Seneca gives examples of men who exercise poor economizing of time (and, specifically, of the years they have left), it is his opinion that “their mode of giving subtracts from their own store without adding to their friends.” This sounds like a lose-lose situation to me, so I’d surmise that he would not assess interpersonal relationships to have a high degree of ROI. Ultimately, Seneca’s concept of carpe diem comes down to being a “frugal steward” of time who does well to “tot up the days of your life” and who tries to be intentional in balancing the account, i.e., saving time for yourself and your intellectual endeavors. By presenting his broader argument through monetary metaphors, Seneca reinforces the idea that life’s duration can be conceived as a ledger maintained by careful calculations.
For those writers and artists among us (or anyone wanting to break out of leading a calculated life), how can we reconcile his views on keeping up societal connections with preserving an inward focus on individual pursuits (for his purposes, the scholarly life)? Turning back to Epicurus and his belief that pleasure as a goal informs “every choice and avoidance,” maybe the best approach is to choose wisely the friends who can share in the practice of mathematics (insert any other activity here) “without emotional involvement [or] hangover,” thereby leaving us enough life force to get up the next morning and devote ourselves to inspired solitary avocations. Oat cakes optional.
By Robin Tovey
Works cited:
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus, and Moses Hadas. The Stoic Philosophy of Seneca : Essays and Letters of Seneca. New York: Norton, 1968.
Inwood, Brad, and Lloyd P Gerson. Hellenistic Philosophy : Introductory Readings. Second edition. Indianapolis, Ind: Hackett Publishing Company, 1997.
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