Roles, Relationships, and Partialism in Epictetus’s Ethical Thought

Abstract

Ancient moral philosophy provides several entry points for partialist concerns regarding family members, friends, and fellow citizens. The prominence of friendship in many ancient texts makes it easy to identify partialist strands, according to which agents are not only permitted but even expected to display a special concern for the well-being of those close to them. Thus, partialism, broadly conceived, is not considered incompatible with morality. However, this does not imply that these ancient theories are committed to strict partialism or anti-impartialism. Many authors, for example, mention demands of justice that are intrinsically connected with impartial decisions and distributions; it is a commonplace that judges should be impartial and that affectionate relations with one of the litigants may corrupt their judgments. Possible tensions between partialist and impartialist intuitions are sometimes explicitly addressed.¹ In Plato’s Republic (Plato 1997), for example, the proverbial slogan indicative of the partialism of popular morality at the time—that we should help our friends and harm our enemies (see Blundell 1989)—comes under attack by Socrates’s question of whether this rule is also applicable to unjust friends and just enemies (Republic 334b–335a). Here, Socrates’s demand for the moral assessment of friends and enemies seems to undermine the unqualified relation of friendship as a sufficient basis for the privileged treatment of friends. In contrast, in Plato’s Euthyphro, the character Euthyphro boasts about having arraigned his own father for murder. Socrates, rather than praising Euthyphro for his allegedly impartialist attitude, takes issue with his interlocutor’s self-righteousness, responding with what can be interpreted as an ironic reconfirmation of popular partialism: “Is then the man your father killed one of your relatives? Or is that obvious, for you would not prosecute your father for the murder of a stranger” (Euthyphro 4b). Different schools vary significantly regarding the room they are willing to give to partialist reasons and duties. For example, while Aristotle and the Aristotelians are famous for stressing loyalty to one’s own city and fellow citizens, Stoic philosophers are sometimes singled out for their emphasis on impartiality: “The Stoics are the first ethical theorists clearly to commit themselves to the theses that morality requires impartiality to all others from the moral point of view” (Annas 1993, 265).

This paper will focus on a particular Stoic philosopher, Epictetus. His ethical theory offers a particularly revealing case study of partialist thinking in ancient moral philosophy, as Epictetus frequently refers to our duties as sons or brothers, suggesting that we ought to treat our parents and siblings differently than others. Indeed, Epictetus’s work—or rather, the works written by Arrianus that report Epictetus’s teachings (the so-called ‘Discourses’ or diatribai and the ‘Manual’ or Encheiridion)—contains numerous references to duties or appropriate actions deriving from our roles as sons or brothers. He often extends this list to include our duties as parents, neighbors, citizens, spouses, comrades, rulers, ruled subjects, and even traveling companions. Epictetus distinguishes natural from acquired relations, but both types define certain duties or appropriate actions. When examining ethical conflicts, Epictetus often references brothers who treat us unjustly (e.g., by claiming a greater share of the inheritance) or grumpy fathers who treat us rudely. In such examples, he suggests that our response should be guided by their relationship to us rather than by their actions or words.

From the so-called ‘Middle Stoa’, particularly from Panaetius of Rhodes, Epictetus may have adopted the idea of different ‘roles’ we have to play. The corresponding attempt to derive duties from different roles or personae is especially prominent in Cicero’s De Officiis. Sometimes, Epictetus takes the concept of roles quite literally, insisting that there are roles the choice of which is not up to us; what is up to us with regard to these given roles is that we play them well. This means that the norms regulating our behavior are strongly dependent on the roles we find ourselves in. The two ideas of, first, particular relations, whether natural or acquired, and, second, the specific roles we play are closely connected. Each interpersonal relation defines certain roles for those involved in the relation. Many of the roles we play are indeed defined by a specific relation, although there may be certain other roles that are not intrinsically relational, such as roles defined by particular vocations. Taken together, the emphasis on social relations and on the particular roles we are supposed to play ground a strong partialist strand, or so I argue, within Epictetus’s ethical thought.

Before delving into the most significant partialist elements in Epictetus’s thinking, it might be useful to begin with a brief characterization of his philosophy in comparison to orthodox Stoicism at his time.

1. Epictetus and His Stoic Background

As is well known, the Stoics assume that only one thing is truly good—virtue—and only one thing is truly bad—vice. Everything else is considered neither good nor bad, but rather indifferent in terms of morality, known as adiaphoron in Greek. This leads to the seemingly paradoxical conclusion that things commonly viewed as repugnant and bad, such as bodily pain, poverty, sickness, death, banishment, loss of the beloved ones, turn out not to be bad at all. Conversely, things regarded as most desirable, such as bodily pleasure, wealth, health, good reputation, political power, or tenured positions, turn out not to be good. The failure to recognize these indifferent things (adiaphora) as neither good nor bad results in the Stoic passions (pathê), which are the outcomes of desiring seemingly good things and trying to avoid seemingly bad things.

The Stoic philosopher or sage seeks freedom from such passions and disturbances, aiming for apatheia (freedom from passions) and ataraxia (tranquility), since virtue alone suffices for or is even identical with happiness. Despite this, our everyday choices and actions have to deal with adiaphora, as certain choices can have an impact on our self-preservation or the welfare of our community. However, these are not differences of good and bad, but of preferred and unpreferred adiaphora according to Stoic terminology. Stoic ethics, therefore, operates on two levels with two independent value systems: one that distinguishes good from bad and another that addresses the realm of adiaphora. How these two levels interact is a matter of debate; for our purpose, it suffices to say that discussions about the so-called prosêkonta (duties or appropriate actions) typically belong to the second level—matters that are preferable or unpreferable, but not good or bad strictly speaking.

Epictetus is mostly introduced alongside Seneca and Marcus Aurelius as a representative of so-called Late Stoicism during the Roman imperial period. He was roughly fifty years younger than Seneca and about seventy years older than Marcus Aurelius (who was familiar with Epictetus’s philosophy and quotes him in his Meditations). Unlike Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus was neither wealthy nor politically influential. Born a slave, he was eventually freed, but later banished from Rome by Emperor Domitian along with other Stoic philosophers. Some recent scholars challenge the appropriateness of the usual classification of Epictetus as a representative of late Stoicism. They argue that he saw himself also as a follower of Socrates and a revivalist of Cynic asceticism.² While Epictetus employs the framework and terminology of Stoic philosophy, he is neither interested in all Stoic topics (e.g., even though he is well familiar with Stoic logic, he mostly references logical theory as metaphor for ethical questions) nor committed to using Stoic terms and theorems in an orthodox manner. Instead, he uses the Stoic framework flexibly to develop genuinely Socratic intuitions, such as the ideas that nobody is voluntarily wicked, no wicked person can be happy, unjust actions harm the soul, nobody can harm a just and virtuous person, and that the virtuous person is happy. Epictetus reinterprets these Socratic principles through his key concept of freedom. He argues, notably, that everyone desires an unhindered life, which however becomes obstructed when we fail to reach what we desire or encounter things we try to avoid. A wicked person, fixated on external ends like wealth or bodily pleasure, is bound to experience the frustration of being hindered every now and then, as these desires are often thwarted. And a person whose desires are constantly frustrated cannot be happy. For Epictetus, hence, the goal of a happy life is characterized not only by apatheia and ataraxia but by total freedom (eleutheria)—freedom from anything that could obstruct our desires or avoidances (see Encheiridion 29.7). This ambitious goal requires adjusting our desires to align with the world’s order rather than trying to change the world to fit our desires.³

To achieve this adjustment, we need to discern what is up to us (eph’ hêmin) and what is not (ouk eph’ hêmin). Epictetus argues that all things the Stoics classify as adiaphora fall into the latter category—things not within our control. These include all aspects concerning our body, external possessions, reputation, and relationships. Despite our efforts, the outcomes in these areas are beyond our control and thus cannot be genuinely good. What, then, is up to us? According to Epictetus, it is our judgment and the capacity to judge, which includes our consent (sunkatathesis), our desires and aversions (orexeis kai ekkliseis), and our (voluntary) handling of involuntarily acquired impressions (phantasiai). These impressions may present objects as desirable or terrifying, but we can choose whether to follow or resist them. Additionally, our impulses to act or not act (hormê and aphormê) are under our control. Epictetus emphasizes the distinction between the impulse to act and the action itself, as the outcome of actions is not within our control.

All these elements that are entirely up to us fall under what Epictetus calls prohairesis.⁴ Originally coined by Aristotle to mean the decision leading to action, in Epictetus’s usage, prohairesis encompasses the capacity to decide and judge or the attitude resulting from such decisions. It is not always action-related and can include the decision to find something desirable or to give assent to an impression. Epictetus often speaks of “maintaining our prohairesis in accordance with nature,” meaning we should adhere to the insight that some things are within our control while others are not. This understanding aligns with the natural order, recognizing that most aspects of our existence are beyond our control, while our reason can control our soul. Epictetus also identifies prohairesis, or the controlling authority within our soul, as our true self. He argues that elements of our life that can be hindered or obstructed do not represent our true self. Our true self is revealed in what is up to us and what we genuinely endorse or wish. Epictetus responds to objections about the vulnerability of our lives by asserting that external forces can only harm our bodies, not our true selves. This idea echoes Socrates’s belief that his prosecutors could not harm him because they could not do harm to (the integrity of) his soul.⁵ Epictetus contends that failing to distinguish between what is up to us and what is not leads to weakening our rational capacity and control. Conversely, those who understand and adhere to this distinction, desiring only what is within their control and avoiding non-natural things like vicious behavior, will not experience affections, disturbances, or hindrances, thus achieving true freedom and happiness.

2. Appropriate Actions as Determined by Social Relationships

With this general picture in place, we can now get back to where we started, namely to the particular relations that define different appropriate actions for each of us and in accordance with which we have to treat different people differently. The question of how to act rightly is addressed by the Stoics under the term kathêkonta, which can be translated as ‘appropriate, fitting, or suitable actions’. The term derives from the phrase kathêkei moi, meaning ‘it is appropriate for me’, ‘it is fitting for me’, or ‘it is suitable for me’. Due to this origin, translations such as ‘duties’ or ‘dutiful actions’ have also become established (mediated by Cicero’s Latin translation as officia, i.e., ‘duties’). In the modern sense, duties are often expected to apply equally to everyone, whereas the Stoic kathêkonta are norms of action that apply to specific individuals based on particular circumstances. Therefore, it is more accurate to speak of ‘what is appropriate or required for a specific person in a particular situation’, leaving open the possibility of there being actions that are appropriate for everybody or for everybody being a human being or a citizen of the cosmos, etc.

In the following quotation Epictetus argues that the actions appropriate to us are mostly set by our social relationships:

The appropriate actions (καθήκοντα, kathêkonta) are largely set by our social relationships. In the case of one’s father, this involves looking after him, letting him have his way in everything, and not making a fuss if he is abusive or violent.—‘But what if he’s a bad father?’—Do you think you have a natural affinity only to a good father?—‘No, just to a father.’—Suppose your brother treats you badly. In that case, maintain your fraternal relationship to him. Don’t think about why he behaves that way but about what way you need to do to keep your prohairesis in accordance with nature. No one else, in fact, will harm you without your consent; you will be harmed only when you think you are being harmed. So make a habit of studying your social relationships—with neighbours, citizens, or army officers—and then you will discover the appropriate thing to do. (Encheiridion 30, trans. Long [2018], slightly altered)

In dealings with parents and siblings, this text suggests there is little room for doubting or wondering what the appropriate actions are, as we immediately understand the behavior we owe to our parents and siblings. The initial examples of fathers and brothers are not arbitrarily chosen; they are recurring stock examples of the relevant social relations throughout the Discourses and are considered natural relations (see Discourses 2.14.8). The quotation above alludes to the distinction between natural and acquired relations, emphasizing that the natural relation applies to any father, not just good ones. In the final sentence, more relationships, not only natural ones, are mentioned, but it stands to reason that natural relationships, such as those between parents and children or between siblings, are regarded as paradigm cases. The main thesis is that appropriate actions follow from these particular relations. For instance, in the case of the father, appropriate actions include looking after him, letting him have his way in everything, and not making a fuss when he behaves abusively. While the first two types of action seem relatively neutral, the third (not making a fuss when the father is abusive) describes the appropriate reaction to the father’s inappropriate behavior. Similarly, the example of the brother immediately refers to the brother’s inappropriate behavior (“Suppose, your brother treats you badly”). Remarkably, most references to brothers in Epictetus’s Discourses are constructed similarly. In Encheiridion 43, for example, he introduces the idea that everything has ‘two handles’ and can be carried by one handle but not by the other. He illustrates this with the example of a brother who has wronged us: “Don’t try to grasp the matter by the handle that he is wronging you, because that is the handle by which it can’t be carried.”

Before proceeding, it is worth noting that, in light of the examples provided, the idea of deriving appropriate actions from our social relations appears to involve partialist thinking in two distinct ways. First, appropriate actions towards others vary depending on the specific nature of our relationship with a particular person or group. Second, the examples of unjust brothers suggest that we might feel especially hurt when our brother wrongs us. Why is this so? Because we expect our brother to care more about our integrity and well-being than others would, simply because he is our brother. This is to say that we expect in general our family members, friends, and companions to show more concern for our well-being than other random agents.

What can we infer from these examples? First, the illustrations given for the appropriate way to deal with one’s father seem to derive from the idea that the appropriateness follows from the nature (essence) of this kind of relation and nothing else. Accordingly, what is appropriate for me as a son in dealings with my parents is appropriate for all children vis-à-vis their parents. It is also clear that what is appropriate for me to do regarding my parents is different from what is appropriate for me to do regarding my neighbors, fellow citizens, or strangers. It is not perfectly clear, though, how the nature of, say, fatherhood can be sufficient for determining the aforementioned examples of appropriate actions (e.g., looking after him, letting him have his way in everything). Still, Epictetus is confident that everyone can discover their appropriate actions by studying, as he puts it, their social relationships. In similar contexts (e.g., Discourses II.10.1), Epictetus recommends considering what a thing is before we make up our minds, which seems to be a special application of the well-known Socratic ‘What-is-it?’ question. Now, considering, for example, what fatherhood or, more generally, parenthood is, one might find that we owe our existence and upbringing to our parents, and this is why we must honor them reciprocally and look after them when they get older, etc. Epictetus does not explicitly state this, but it seems a plausible suggestion given his use of the ‘What-is-it’ question. Similarly, when dealing with siblings and brotherhood, Epictetus argues from the nature of brotherhood, emphasizing that we have been brought up together (Encheiridion 43), which leads to other types of appropriate actions, namely actions that exemplify “deference, obedience, and restraint in language” (Discourses II.10.8).

Second, we must address the observation that most of Epictetus’s examples of appropriate actions concerning family members are complicated by the abusive or inappropriate behavior of those with whom we share close relationships. Why this emphasis on violent, abusive, or unjust fathers and brothers? Is this simply how family members typically behave in Epictetus’s experience? Are these examples meant to reflect the experiences of Epictetus’s students? There may be better explanations available. In a way, all these reactions to violent fathers or unjust brothers are exercises in forbearance, one of Epictetus’s favorite virtues.⁶ Next, given the natural status of relationships with parents and siblings, it might seem unnecessary, under normal circumstances, to emphasize treating them with respect and deference. On this assumption, the examples of violent fathers and unjust brothers might serve to motivate considerations about appropriate actions in the first place (whereas, perhaps, the appropriate actions deriving from less binding relations, as the relation of a travelling companion, might be less clear). From a more philosophical perspective, one might argue that these examples are constructed to demonstrate the primacy of these relationships over other considerations, such as abandoning the relationship with parents because they treated us violently or treating a brother as an enemy in retaliation for his unjust actions. The central thesis appears to be that, to determine the appropriate course of action, we should not morally assess our family members’ actions. Instead, we should rely exclusively on the relationship in question. This would yield a substantial philosophical conclusion.

Upon closer examination, this thesis seems to comprise two distinct elements. On the one hand, Epictetus addresses the individual harmed by his brother: “Don’t think about why he behaves that way but consider what you need to do to keep your prohairesis in accordance with nature.” Keeping one’s prohairesis in accordance with nature is a general and fundamental maxim of Epictetus’s ethics; it can be applied to virtually all situations requiring our agency and decision. It implies that we must not concern ourselves with possible wrongs done by others, but must focus instead on what is within our control. This principle is not specific to dealings with unjust brothers. On the other hand, aside from focusing on how to avoid harming ourselves through unjust behavior, Epictetus emphasizes that, at the level of appropriate actions, we must maintain the brotherly relationship we have with our brother, encompassing all the duties that brothers, as brothers, are supposed to fulfil.

All this hints to something like a ‘lexical order’ between the preservation of what is good (e.g., keeping one’s prohairesis in accordance with nature) and the observance of what is appropriate towards family members, friends, etc. This seems to be attested and slightly modified by the following piece of text:

(5) That is why the good is preferred above every form of kinship. My father is nothing to me, but only the good. ‘Are you so hard-hearted?’ Yes, that is my nature. This is the coinage which God has given me. . . . (8) If, however, we define the good as consisting in a right prohairesis, then the mere preservation of the (social) relationships becomes a good; and furthermore, he who gives up some of the externals achieves the good. (9) ‘My father is taking away my money.’—But he is doing you no harm.—My brother is going to get the larger part of the farm.—‘Let him have all he wants. That does not help him at all to get a part of your modesty, does it, or of your fidelity, or of your brotherly love?’ (Discourses 3.3.5–9, trans. Oldfather [1925–28], slightly altered)

In the first part of the quotation—paragraph (5)—Epictetus seems to present his own version of the standard Stoic doctrine of two different levels of value: one relating to what is good and one relating to what is appropriate within the realm of adiaphora (see section 1 above). Social relations, including even those with one’s parents, important as they may be, do not belong to the level of what is good in the strictest sense. This is the official picture, as it were. In paragraphs (8) and (9), however, Epictetus appears willing to qualify this official picture by highlighting how the preservation of our relationships becomes a good. The examples he provides—fathers taking away our money, brothers claiming the larger part of the farm—are familiar by now. Epictetus briefly introduces two new arguments compared to our previous discussion. First, he argues that the right prohairesis (presumably, the prohairesis that we keep in accordance with nature) is something good. How does this relate to the preservation of relationships? In light of the previous discussion, Epictetus might be suggesting that the only way to preserve such relationships despite the harms we might suffer is by not condemning family members for their actions but by maintaining our own prohairesis, which is intimately connected with attaining the good. Epictetus’s second point is that abandoning external things is something good. This is likely because pursuing these external, worthless things would be bad, and relinquishing them helps us focus on what truly matters—i.e., things that are up to us, such as our prohairesis and virtues like modesty and fidelity, as mentioned in the quoted text. What are these external things at stake? They are probably the things we might quarrel about with our fathers and brothers, such as money, real estate, and the like.

According to these latter remarks, maintaining social relations is a crucial aspect of our moral life. These relationships determine the appropriateness of actions toward the people to whom we are related, such as sons, siblings, and so on. All duties or appropriate actions derived from such relationships indicate a partialist stance, as we have different duties toward people depending on the nature of our relationship with them. This implies that we have special concerns for those to whom we are more intimately or familiarly related. As we have seen, Epictetus frequently refers to fathers and brothers when discussing social relations, suggesting either that it is particularly easy to discern the appropriate actions in these cases or that these family relationships are more ‘binding’ than others (or both). Still, he seems to be willing to extend this model to social relations of all kinds.

The result of this for those who have so ordered the work of philosophy is that in desire they are not disappointed, and in avoidance they do not fall into what they would avoid; that each person passes his life to himself, free from pain, fear, and perturbation, at the same time maintaining with his associates both the natural and acquired relationships, those namely of son, father, brother, citizen, wife, neighbour, travelling companion, ruler and subject of rule. (Discourses 2.14.8, trans. Oldfather [1925–28], slightly altered)

Epictetus discusses the benefits of philosophy, emphasizing that it guides us to what Stoics consider the good life—a life free from pain, fear, and disturbance. In this vision of the good life, Epictetus includes the social aspect of maintaining relationships with others, both natural and acquired. While he does not explicitly distinguish which relationships are natural and which are acquired, it is reasonable to infer that fathers and brothers represent natural relationships (i.e., relations we have from birth), whereas travelling companions, neighbors, and wives represent acquired ones. Some of these acquired relationships are also temporary; for instance, the relationship with travelling companions becomes insignificant or ceases to exist once they have reached their common destination. This marks a significant difference from natural relationships. Do acquired, temporary relationships hold the same normative power as natural ones? And when is it appropriate to enter into an acquired relationship and when to end it? As we will explore in the next section, there is a similar distinction and problem concerning the different roles we play.

3. Relational and Nonrelational Roles

Epictetus’s Discourse II.10 addresses the question, “How is it possible to discover someone’s appropriate actions from the names or designations they bear?” At first glance, this might seem like a competing heuristic for identifying appropriate actions, as there is no obvious connection between the ‘names’ or ‘designations’ mentioned here and the social relations we discussed earlier. The discourse begins with the prompt, “Consider who you are.” Clearly, the names or designations someone bears are potential answers to the question of who they are. Throughout the discussion, Epictetus offers various possible answers, some general and others individual: a human being, a citizen, a citizen of the cosmos, a son, a brother, a member of the city council, a smith, a young man, an old man, and so on. “For each of these designations, when duly considered, always suggests the acts that are appropriate to it” (II.10.11). The examples he provides overlap significantly with the social relationships we previously discussed. Furthermore, his remarks on the actions appropriate to sons and brothers align closely with what we found in our exploration of social relationships. The most likely explanation for this overlap is that the names or designations mentioned in II.10 refer to the various roles a person plays, such as being a human being, a citizen, a child of someone, a parent of someone, a sibling of someone, or having a certain profession. Some of these roles are defined by social relationships, while others are not intrinsically relational (e.g., being a human being or a smith by profession). While appropriate actions derived from social relationships concern the person(s) to whom one has a specific relationship, the appropriate actions derived from nonrelational roles can include both other-directed and self-concerning actions. For example, when Epictetus refers to our role as human beings, it is often to derive certain duties or appropriate actions for social beings, such as behavior that shows concern for others. However, he also notes that human beings command their prohairesis and are distinct from sheep, meaning they are not merely unintelligent but possess rationality (II.10.2), which is not necessarily other-directed.

It therefore seems that Epictetus’s practice to explore social relationships for hints of what is the appropriate thing to do (as discussed in section 2 above), which again is the basis for an essentially partialist strand withing his ethical thought, is ultimately part of a larger phenomenon, namely that appropriate actions are derived from the various roles someone plays.

As in the case of social relationships, some of the roles seem to be natural and permanent, while others seem to be acquired or acquired and temporary. Also, Epictetus stresses that some of the roles are general, while others are individual.

(4) By the way, there are two standards to go by, the one general, the other individual. First of all, I must act as a human being. What is included in this? Well, not to act as a sheep, gently but without fixed purpose; nor destructively, like a wild beast. (5) The individual standard applies to each man’s occupation and prohairesis. The kithara player is to act as a kithara player, the architect as an architect, the philosopher as a philosopher, the orator as an orator. (Discourses 3.23.4‒5, trans. Oldfather [1925–28], slightly altered)

The passage highlights a dichotomy between the various roles people play: on the one hand, they are, in general, human beings (and citizens of the cosmos); on the other hand, they occupy many individual roles. Epictetus does not appear to be interested in further categorizing these roles or in providing a comprehensive scheme of them.⁷ All examples of individual roles mentioned here are cases of professions, i.e., of acquired roles that involve a choice.⁸ All the examples of individual roles mentioned in the passage pertain to professions, that is, to roles that are acquired through choice. This does not imply, I take it, that all individual roles are of this type; rather, these examples are chosen because they best illustrate individual roles. Clearly, some roles are not chosen in the same way one chooses a profession, such as those defined by family relationships, being a neighbor to someone who has moved into our neighborhood, or being governed by someone we did not vote for. Regarding the individually chosen roles, the quoted passage does not specify appropriate actions in detail but rather outlines a framework or standard for what actions are appropriate: actions are deemed appropriate if they align with what kithara players, architects, philosophers, or orators are expected to do when performing their roles well. For instance, Epictetus suggests that a smith who misuses the hammer has forgotten that he is a smith (II.10.13), presumably meaning that he has forgotten what makes a smith a good smith or what a smith, as a smith, is expected to do.

One of the main attractions of Epictetus’s theory of roles and relationships seems to be the ease with which the norms associated with these roles can be derived. We ask ourselves who we are—that is, which roles we play and what relationships we are in—and the consideration of these roles and relationships provides us, without the need for further ethical theory, with a basic understanding of what is appropriate for someone in those particular roles. Moreover, examples such as violent fathers and unjust brothers illustrate how easily we can lose focus on keeping our prohairesis (choice) in accordance with nature when we engage in disputes over external matters with them. In situations like these, the consideration of roles provides guidance, helping us to preserve relationships and contribute in a role-specific way to the well-being of the community. However, all this requires that the roles we play not be easily disposable. Otherwise, agents seeking guidance might begin to quibble over the roles they occupy or may simply abandon the roles whose constraints they find unbearable (e.g., cutting ties with unjust siblings or leaving grumpy fathers to their fate). Perhaps this is sometimes necessary from our modern point of view, but it does not seem to be an option for Epictetus. In accordance with Stoic physics, he believes in the providential order of the cosmos as a whole and recommends adjusting one’s wishes and desires to reality, rather than attempting to change reality to fit one’s wishes.

Indeed, it seems to be one of the main upshots of the parlance of roles that they are not easily disposable. This is, at least, the message of Encheiridion 17:

Keep in mind that you are an actor in a play that is just the way the director wants it to be. It is short, if that is his wish, or long, if he wants it long. If he wants you to act the part of a beggar, see that you play it skillfully; and similarly, if the part is to be a handicapped person, or an official, or an uneducated person. Your job is to put on a splendid performance of the role you have been given, but selecting the role is the job of someone else. (Encheiridion 17, trans. Long [2018], slightly adapted)

Here, the idea of the different roles we play in our lives is explicitly compared to an actor’s situation and the parts they are required to play at the director’s behest. The roles mentioned (beggar, handicapped person, official, uneducated person) could be roles in a play, but they also reflect roles in real life, just as the length of an appearance on stage seems to correspond to the length of a person’s lifespan. The emphasis, however, is on the idea that an individual actor’s responsibility extends only to the excellent performance of the role given to them, not to the selection of the role itself.⁹ It remains unclear, though, what kind of authority in real life corresponds to the director in a play. Is it cosmic providence, or the simple fact that we cannot choose our parents and siblings (a phenomenon Epictetus is notably interested in, as seen in Discourses I.18.28‒35)? Or is it, more generally, the fact that we often find ourselves in certain roles rather than selecting them from a menu of options? Epictetus does not elaborate on this question here. What is clear, though, is the normative aspect of the roles we are given. Each role, it seems, comes with its own standards of excellence, and we are expected to live up to these standards. How, then, does this align with the individual roles mentioned by Epictetus that are acquired, or even deliberately chosen, as in the case of professions?

Some of our roles are natural or inescapable, and it is clear that Epictetus wants us not to complain about these inevitable roles, but rather to make the best of them and consider what the appropriate actions for someone in such a role would be. However, some of the roles we play result from our choices, such as the choice of our profession or occupation. Just as with relationships, we might ask why we should adhere to the rules of a particular role rather than abandon or replace it. Epictetus’s response to this challenge might be as follows: Rather than choosing roles and occupations (and, perhaps, relationships) arbitrarily, we are supposed to discover the roles and occupations for which we are best suited by our individual nature. In the Discourses, Epictetus emphasizes again and again the importance of determining whether someone is suited and prepared to become a philosopher, comparing this to the preparations and self-examinations of someone who is about to participate in the Olympic Games. He notes that some people wish to be philosophers today, orators tomorrow, and Olympic athletes the day after (Encheiridion 29.3). For such individuals, these roles are contingent, arising from a failure to examine their own skills and talents. In cases where roles and occupations are randomly acquired, the chosen roles may be seen as lacking inherent normativity, except for the normativity that arises from the commitments associated with accepting a particular role or function. The problem with these arbitrarily adopted roles is that, without the necessary capacities, one might not be able to fulfil the commitments connected with a particular role. However, there are roles we acquire—or must acquire—because we possess the necessary skills and talents, roles that we embrace through required training and preparation, or because we happen to be the right person at the right time. Much of the discourse on cynicism (Discourses III.22), for example, is devoted to the self-examination required before choosing the Cynic way of life.

From this perspective, choosing roles and professions is primarily a matter of discovering those roles for which we are suited. This is clearly expressed in the following brief remark: “If you have taken on a role beyond your capacity, you have demeaned yourself in it, and you have also passed up the role you could have filled creditably” (Encheiridion 37, trans. Long, slightly adapted). In this sense, people can be said to be mistaken when adopting a role they are unable to fulfil. Beyond possessing the required capacities for a particular role, avoiding role conflicts is also important for the careful selection of roles. In principle, the recognition of role conflicts has the potential to threaten the role-based model of appropriate actions, as conflicting roles could lead to conflicting recommendations for appropriate actions.¹⁰ One way to understand Epictetus’s seemingly negligent handling of this threat is to consider that it is part of the deliberate choice of roles to avoid foreseeable role conflicts. This is made explicit in Epictetus’s discussion on the Cynic marriage (Discourses III.22.67–76). The question here is whether the role of a Cynic philosopher is compatible with being married and supporting a family. In this particular context, Epictetus is quite outspoken about the possibility of role conflicts:

. . . if the Cynic ought not to be free from distraction, wholly devoted to the service of God, free to go about among men, not tied down by private duties of [ordinary] men, nor involved in relationships which he must not violate when maintaining his role as a good and excellent man, whereas, on the other hand, if he observes them [i.e. these relationships], he will destroy the messenger, the scout, the herald of the gods, that he is [as a cynic philosopher]. (Discourses III.22.69, trans. Oldfather [1925–28], altered)

The conclusion is that one cannot be both a Cynic philosopher and a caring family person (unless, as Epictetus concedes, the partner happens to be a Cynic philosopher too, as in the case of Crates and Hipparchia). The role conflict would be inevitable, but it can be avoided by making a well-considered choice and not embarking on projects “at random and in a half-hearted fashion” (Discourses III.15.7).

In sum, not even the acquired or chosen roles should be taken on at random and without thorough examination.¹¹ People are to be blamed when trying to occupy roles they are not suited for. Apart from the roles people have from birth and roles that are defined by certain natural relationships, the choice of additional roles is not and should not be a matter of hopping from one occupation to another, but of discovering the occupations one is suited for. This is the general background in Epictetus’s ethical thought for determining the appropriate actions. The roles that are defined by certain relationships determine actions that are appropriate only with regard to the persons to whom we are related in this specific way. This is where partialist thinking fits within Epictetus’s ethics.

All this does not restrain Epictetus from appealing to the general role of being a human being and a citizen of the cosmos (e.g. Discourses II.10.3), which relates agents to all other human beings and to the cosmos as a whole. These general roles seem to support ethical universalism and impartialism rather than partialism. We will conclude, hence, by briefly commenting on Epictetus’s use of these most general roles.

4. The ‘Role’ of a Human Being

Epictetus frequently emphasizes that we are all human beings and explores the normative consequences that follow from this shared identity. Being human is one possible answer to the question of who we are. While the concept of a ‘role’ is often meant to highlight how people and the norms they must follow differ according to their specific roles, the role of being human serves the opposite purpose: it underscores the existence of norms that apply universally, simply by virtue of our humanity. When coupled with the idea of cosmopolitanism—the notion that we are all citizens of the same cosmos—this perspective suggests that, in certain ways, all fellow citizens of the cosmos should be treated equally. This implies that Athenians or Romans, for example, should not be privileged over other human beings. To the extent, that this is also called a ‘role’ we have to play, the philosophically remarkable consequence seems to be that the norms connected with human kind in general have a similar source as norms deriving from individual norms, namely that there are certain roles we find ourselves in and that we have to try to match up to standards inherent to these various roles. In this respect, Epictetus’s ethics of different roles is in line with a version of the Stoic theory of self-appropriation (oikeiôsis), in that our instinctual drive for self-preservation and the sympathy and care for those next to us are eventually extended to all other human beings, including complete strangers, by the same function of self-appropriation (aptly characterized by Keimpe Algra as ‘social appropriation’; see Algra [2003]). The difference, though, is that, while in at least one important account (Hierocles, 61.10–62.20) this is pictured as a continuous process which starts out from an individual being surrounded by concentric circles and reaches out to the outermost circles, there is no such development in Epictetus that would lead from the individual roles to the more general ones.

Even more notably, the role of being human appears to have a dual function: it informs both the determination of appropriate actions (on the level of what is preferable and what is not) and the moral good for human beings (as discussed in section 1). Regarding actions appropriate to humans, Epictetus consistently emphasizes that humans are social beings. This implies that they are “sociable, affectionate, and trustworthy” (Discourses IV.1.126), that they are not wild and violent (Frgm. 25), that they have a natural impulse to spend time with others (Discourses III.13.5), and that they do not bite, kick, imprison, or behead others, but, on the contrary, help each other (Discourses IV.1.122). All this is clearly concerned with actions appropriate for human beings. At the same time human nature is invoked to point out that human beings have prohairesis, choice, and that it is peculiar to human beings to make use of the capacity to decide, to approve of or to decline given impressions. Human beings are made of clay; this is why they cannot be completely unhindered. Not even Zeus could have created them differently, because even God is bound to make such beings hindered and obstructed. However, God gave the human beings a share of his own rational nature, by which the human beings were equipped with prohairesis. “But since I couldn’t give you that [i.e. an unhindered body],” Zeus says to Epictetus (Discourses I.1.12), “I’ve given you a certain portion of myself, this faculty of motivation to act and not to act, of desire and aversion, and, in a word, the power to make proper use of impressions.” This is no longer a comment on actions appropriate to human beings, but delineates the human good consisting in the capacity to keep one’s prohairesis in accordance with nature.

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Footnotes