Power, Wealth, and Fame Don’t Bring Security
Translation Tuesday: Principal Doctrines 6, 7, and 14
Principal Doctrine 6:
As a way of achieving security by the aid of other men, public office and kingship have been a form of natural good, for sometimes it is possible to attain a confident position by these means.
Principal Doctrine 7:
Some have desired to be honored and famous, believing that they would thus achieve security. If the lives of such men are indeed secure, then they have obtained a natural good. But if their lives are not secure, then they do not have what they originally desired in accordance with nature.
Principal Doctrine 14:
Although some degree of security has been obtained from other men through the power that comes from their support and from wealth, the most complete security comes from a quiet life and withdrawal from the many.
Commentary
What makes something good or bad? According to Epicureanism, the answer depends on whether it is, on balance, more conducive to pleasure or to pain. Since most positive pleasures are easy to obtain, a large part of our attention should go to the avoidance of pain. The state of successfully avoiding pain, and feeling confident that we will continue to do so, can be summed up in a single word: security. Do the common targets of human ambition help us to obtain this kind of tranquility? Epicureans are skeptical.
Today’s selection1 from the Principal Doctrines considers some common desires of ambitious people—for political power, fame, and wealth, respectively—and analyzes the merits of each according to that one simple criterion: do they increase our sense of security?2 The Epicurean response is somewhat radical: they usually don’t. Many people bluntly believe that power, fame, and wealth are good things and that people are good and admirable when they obtain more of them. Epicurus thinks they are wrong.
Importantly, crucially, and distinctively, however, Epicurus does not simply say:
Political power corrupts.
Fame is contemptible.
Money is wicked.
Instead, in all three cases, Epicurus presents a conditional case in favor of or against the subject of each maxim. Power, fame, or wealth could increase one’s sense of security. Presumably they did in our evolutionary past, and that’s why we feel instinctually motivated to pursue social standing and greater resources today. In certain circumstances, attaining some degree of power, recognition, or wealth can still be helpful. In all three cases, however, Epicurus’ underlying conclusion is the same: when people pursue such objects, they think they’re increasing their security, but in practice they usually don’t succeed in doing so.
This consequentialist approach contrasts with the absolutism of many moralists both ancient and modern. Cicero, for instance, gets very upset at the way Epicurus says that he would not criticize those who pursue sensual pleasures if they lived without fear and understood the limits of desire.3 Cicero would prefer to simply say “pursuing pleasure is ignoble,” while Epicurus refuses to criticize natural human instincts. If we have an innate psychological propensity towards something, Epicurus generally thinks we need to learn how to accommodate it, rather than bluntly deny it. “Nature must not be forced, but persuaded.”4 Recognizing the healthy human instinct to seek security is part of “persuading” our nature to do so in more effective ways.
For many, the most familiar source of such castigation of human nature is probably Christian moral teaching. My wife was raised as a Catholic. In what I think is a reasonably representative experience, she doesn’t have memories of being taught to think through the long-term benefits or disadvantages of different courses of action. Instead, she was taught blunt rules of good and bad, enforced by shame and guilt. One memorable childhood lesson, for instance, involved a big bag of food from McDonald’s, which she alone in her squadron of little Catholics received by lot. Nominally, she was invited to do whatever she liked with it. Naturally, she started eating—until she was informed that to do so was bad and selfish, while sharing the fries and milkshakes with her classmates would be generous and good. My wife’s main takeaway was that while she thought she had simply won the lottery, she was actually acting in a shameful and reprehensible way.
Epicurus would approach this differently. “Can you actually eat that many cheeseburgers?” he might ask. “Will you feel good if you drink five milkshakes? Will your peers be nicer to you if you share the extra food with them?” Zealously guarding a food source is a perfectly natural and reasonable strategy in less cooperative species or circumstances. There is a reason that hummingbirds chase other birds away from the flowers, but it isn’t because they are sinful creatures with the devil in them. It’s because they are not as capable of prudential calculation as humans are. It’s fine to be animals, as we are, but that doesn’t mean we need to be stupid animals. It’s fine to pursue our own security, but we should do so in effective ways.
Today’s maxims have a clear message about the usefulness of pursuing fame, wealth, and so on. Almost as important, however, is the clarity with which they present the Epicurean method of evaluation: what is ultimately decisive is not a blunt set of inherited rules and values, but the comparative weight of advantage or disadvantage attendant on each possible course of action. With that general framework in mind, let’s now take a look at each of today’s Principal Doctrines through a practical, contemporary lens. PD 6 has been the subject of some textual dispute, so I’ll circle back to it after establishing the proper context with the other two. We’ll start with Principal Doctrine 7:
Some have desired to be honored and famous, believing that they would thus achieve security. If the lives of such men are indeed secure, then they have obtained a natural good. But if their lives are not secure, then they do not have what they originally desired in accordance with nature.
This one is nice and clear. We know what all the words mean, there aren’t any arguments, and the nature of the conditional claim is obvious. If the famous people feel secure, then they have acted in a perfectly reasonable way. But if they do not—which is clearly implied to be the more typical case—then they have made a tactical error in choosing to pursue public renown.
You can imagine how increasing your social standing in a simpler, tribal world could lead to a greater share of resources and aid from others. Because of that evolutionary legacy, positive social recognition instinctively feels good. And some parallel benefits do continue to accrue in the modern world. Famous actors and athletes have lots of money and mating opportunities, and may enjoy basking in the warm glow of mass admiration. If I were the most famous Epicurean spokesperson on the planet, I could probably make some useful cash selling Substack subscriptions. Fame is not bad absolutely and in principle.
There are, however, downsides to the life of even successful fame-seekers (to say nothing of the far greater number of those who seek and do not obtain fame). Financially, famous rich people are probably targeted by thieves, swindlers, and sycophants even more often than low-profile rich people—combined with the steep odds against winning the lottery of celebrity, fame doesn’t seem like a particularly efficient way of achieving financial security. In terms of tranquility, any material benefits need to be weighed against the psychological costs: many famous people seem to spend their time in constant pandering or self-promotion, which increases their anxiety, dents their self-assurance, and distracts from more valuable activities.
Our culture loves stories of underdogs who rise out of anonymity to climb the summits of Hollywood, popular music, or professional sports. But most parents know that aiming for such goals is usually not the most practical advice to give their children if they want them to attain peace and stability. The odds are against them. Epicurus prefers good odds.
Principal Doctrine 14 similarly presents two sides of a calculation: pursuing wealth and influence gives some benefits in terms of security, but a quiet life gives more.
Although some degree of security has been obtained from other men through the power that comes from their support5 and from wealth, the most complete security comes from a quiet life and withdrawal from the many.
Here, it’s not a question of likelihood or probability, as the comparison was framed in PD 7 (“if they obtained security, then good for them”), but a question of the comparative magnitude of the benefit (“sure, wealth will give you some security, but a quiet life will give you more”). It’s hard to say exactly what form of “power that comes from support” Epicurus had in mind—that of rich people? that of politicians? that of certain kinds of rich people or politicians?—but I think his general suggestion to favor the quiet life over the life of wealth still has plenty of usefulness for normal people today:
Most simply, obtaining a lot of wealth is often stressful, competitive, and uncertain.
Keeping wealth can also lead to insecurity. Rich people spend a lot of money and energy safeguarding their possessions with purchases of security systems and insurance. But if you don’t have fancy stuff to guard and insure, then you don’t have to worry.
Even spending lots of money is not an unmixed blessing. The wealthy spend a lot of money and energy keeping up with other rich people. They dress the right way, drive the right kind of car, go to the right kind of restaurants and gyms and vacation destinations. But that isn’t security—it psychologically locks you into a high level of consumption and makes you unhappy with a simpler life.
“Withdrawal from the many” has non-monetary aspects as well. For instance, obtaining the goodwill and support of the many generally requires acquiescing to their views, no matter how unphilosophic. Assuming you have a wise Epicurean perspective internally, this means you will have to hide your real thoughts as you put on an air of sympathy towards the unimportant complaints and disputes of normal people. In addition to the general unpleasantness of such self-censorship, insincerity is not a stable basis for dependable support.
Wealth and the support of the world at large can be helpful. But the net benefit is usually much smaller than people think. With that in mind, let’s circle back to PD 6, whose context and method should now be clearer:
As a way of achieving security by the aid of other men, public office and kingship have been a form of natural good, for sometimes it is possible to attain a confident position by these means.6
At first glance, this maxim might seem to say the opposite of what you would expect: doesn’t the actual text here say that political office is good for increasing security and confidence? I think the “sometimes” is important here. As I interpret it, what we have in PD 6 is essentially the first half of what was a more formal two-part structure in PD 7 and 14. These first half concessions all line up:
If the famous people have security, then good for them. (PD 7)
The rich have some degree of security. (PD 14)
Sometimes politicians achieve a confident position. (PD 6)
PD 7 and 14 then made the contrary position explicit:
… But if the famous people aren’t secure, then they made a mistake. (PD 7)
… But those who live quietly have more security. (PD 14)
… But very often, kings and politicians do not have a secure life. (PD 6, implicitly)
Some editors and translators (Usener, Bailey, Strodach) have been misled by the lack of an explicit counter-position to the extent of thinking that “public office and kingship” were an erroneous addition to the text that needed to be removed. But seen in the context of PD 7 and PD 14, the parallel format of PD 6 seems quite clear: Epicurus is admitting that many people think that pursuing a particular form of ambition will lead to more security, but inviting us to judge empirically how often it successfully does so.
Maybe the reason Epicurus didn’t feel it necessary to explicitly spell out the fact that kings and politicians don’t lead secure lives is because it was so obvious. (See my longer essay Don’t Worry About Politics for further evidence that Epicurus was well-aware of the pitfalls of political ambition.) Alexander the Great died when Epicurus was around 18. How did his successors do?
General Perdiccas: Assassinated when Epicurus was 21
General Craterus: Killed in battle when Epicurus was 21
General Antipater: Died of illness when Epicurus was 22
Alexander’s Half-Brother: Executed by Alexander’s mother when Epicurus was 24
Alexander’s Mother: Stoned to death when Epicurus was 25
Alexander’s wife and son: Immediately entered into seven years of dangerous fugitive existence, followed by seven years imprisonment, then poisoned in captivity when Epicurus was 32
But even without quite the same level of imminent death in today’s world, I think it is still clearly true that politicians do not lead peaceful lives. The risk of physical violence is not extinct, while other obstacles to tranquility continue to flourish: the constant sense of competition and instability, the relentless focus on one’s advancement, the need to constantly antagonize rivals or the public.7
Many of the same complications can also come up in all kinds of leadership roles besides the purely political. Navigating the corporate world, managing a small business, or leading a volunteer organization all have their own versions of competition and interpersonal conflict. You have to decide empirically whether the benefits are worth it. As Epicurus admits, sometimes they are. If your position is secure, provides real benefits, and has an overall positive hedonic balance, then he will not object.
But it is more often the case that the things people fight over, in politics or in business, in geopolitical conflict or in petty office squabbles, are simply not worth the hassles of competition. A sense of security is key to tranquility. Pursuing power, fame, or wealth rarely helps you to become untroubled.
Original Text
6. ἕνεκα τοῦ θαρρεῖν ἐξ ανθρώπων8 ἦν κατὰ φύσιν ἀρχῆς καὶ βασιλείας9 ἀγαθόν, ἐξ ὧν ἄν ποτε τοῦτο οἷός τʼᾖ παρασκευάζεσθαι.
7. ἔνδοξοι καὶ περίβλεπτοί τινες ἐβουλήθησαν γενέσθαι, τὴν ἐξ ἀνθρώπων ἀσφάλειαν οὕτω νομίζοντες περιποιήσεσθαι. ὤστε εἰ μὲν ἀσφαλὴς ὁ τῶν τοιούτων βίος, ἀπέλαβον τὸ τῆς φύσεως ἀγαθόν· εἰ δὲ μὴ ἀσφαλὴς, οὐκ ἔχουσιν οὗ ἕνεκα ἐξ ἀρχῆς κατὰ τὸ τῆς φύσεως οἰκεῖον ὠρέχθησαν.
14. τῆς ἀσφαλείας τῆς ἐξ ἀνθρώπων γενομένης μέχρι τινὸς δυνάμει τε ἐξερειστιχῇ10 καὶ εὐπορίᾳ εἰλικρινεστάτη γίνεται ἡ ἐκ τῆς ἡσυχίας καὶ ἐκχωρήσεως τῶν πολλῶν ἀσφάλεια.
These three specific PDs are also discussed together in Geert Roskam’s excellent Live Unnoticed: On the Vicissitudes of an Epicurean Doctrine. I am in essentially full alignment with his commentary and with the sense of his translations. Still, I have retranslated with the aim of ironing out a few ambiguities and delivering an overall smoother English translation. Roskam’s English is very good, but he is a Dutch-speaking Belgian, so occasionally it sounds like Kevin De Bruyne’s scholarly cousin is writing.
PD 7 and PD 14 directly use this crucial word (ἀσφάλεια, security or safety), while PD 6 uses a related term (θαρρεῖν, having confidence or not being afraid). Importantly, this second word makes clear that the goal is not merely increasing one’s physical safety, but achieving a stable sense of security. In English, I think “security” expresses both the objective and mental components well, and so I have used it in translating all three maxims.
De Finibus, II.70
Vatican Saying 21
No one quite knows what “the power that comes from support” is—the manuscripts are a mess, and so some suggest a power that is “resistant” or a power of “expelling” instead. In any case, it’s some form of assistance from people that makes a natural pairing with wealth and which is contrasted with “withdrawal from the many.”
Three small notes on my translation choices. First, as mentioned above, I translate “achieving security” here, although the Greek is θαρρεῖν (being confident or without fear), rather than literally using the word previously translated as security (ἀσφάλεια, as in PD 6 and 14). I think it is correct to draw an explicit connection between all of these maxims, however: you could think of θαρρεῖν as emphasizing the mental side of “sense of security” while ἀσφάλεια emphasizes the objective conditions of security.
Second, some translate ἀρχῆς as “power,” “sovereignty,” or “authority.” I follow Inwood, Gerson, and Roskam in translating it as “political office.” Their Greek is better than mine, so I’m trusting them on the narrow decision of what this word means here.
Third, I have translated all of these maxims primarily in the perfect tense (“public office has been a good,” “many have sought fame”). The original is in the imperfect (“public office was a good”). Tenses in Greek do not align perfectly with tenses in English however. Most notable for the current discussion is Greek’s “gnomic aorist,” which uses the simple past for proverbs and timeless maxims. Here, while my choice is not the only valid one, I think the perfect conveys an appropriately similar generalizing flavor, while keeping the imperfect would give an erroneous historical or anthropological impression: Epicurus is not saying simply that public office used to be good, but is not anymore.
Epicurus will return to this theme in PD 21: “A man who has understood the limits of life knows that the things that remove the suffering of want and make his whole life complete are easy to obtain, so there is no need for the things involving competition.”
In both PD 6 and PD 7, the phrase ἐξ ανθρώπων (“from men”) occurs. Roskam persuasively argues that this should be understood as meaning “coming from men” (i.e. “obtained from other men”), rather than “against the attacks or threats of other men.” I have tried to make that unambiguous in my translations.
As mentioned above, Usener and Bailey wrongly remove ἀρχῆς καὶ βασιλείας.
As mentioned above, the correct word here is unclear in the manuscripts. Roskam, Arrighetti, and Bignone print ἐξερειστιχῇ, a form of ἐρείδω, to prop or support. One manuscript seems to have this, while the others have various different forms of nonsense. Bailey and some others emend to ἐξοριστικῇ (“repelling” or “resisting”). No manuscript actually has that word, although in some of them the nonsense is closer to that.