In this episode, I take aim at what I call “stoa shaming”—the habit of pointing out someone’s failure to be perfectly Stoic as a way of dismissing both them and the philosophy.

You’ve seen it. Someone loses their temper, struggles with their weight, or makes a mistake, and the response is: “That’s not very Stoic of you.” On the surface, it sounds like a call to higher standards. In reality, it reveals a misunderstanding of Stoicism itself.

Stoicism does not expect perfection from its practitioners. It defines perfection—sagehood—as something effectively unattainable. The Sage is a theoretical ideal: someone who never errs in judgment, never assents incorrectly, and never acts viciously. That’s not us. That’s not anyone.

What we are, instead, are prokoptôns—progressors. People in motion. People practicing.

This matters because if you misunderstand Stoicism as requiring perfection, then every mistake becomes evidence of failure, and every practitioner becomes a hypocrite. That’s the logic behind stoa shaming. It reduces a philosophy of progress into a brittle standard no one can meet.

But Stoicism isn’t a label you “achieve.” It’s a framework you use. Saying “I’m a Stoic” doesn’t mean you embody perfect virtue. It means you’re attempting to move toward it using Stoic principles.

That means mistakes aren’t contradictions of the philosophy—they are the condition under which the philosophy is practiced.

When someone says, “That’s not very Stoic of you,” what they’re often doing is collapsing the distinction between Sage and student. They’re holding a progressor to the standard of perfection and then using the inevitable gap to dismiss both the person and the system.

It’s also, in many cases, a defensive move. If they can frame you as inconsistent, they can ignore what you’re saying. If you’re not perfect, then your arguments don’t count. It’s an easy way to avoid engaging with the substance.

The Stoic response is simple: reject the premise. You are not trying to be flawless. You are trying to improve. And improvement requires error, correction, and continued effort over time.

So when you fall short—and you will—you haven’t failed at Stoicism. You’ve participated in it.

And when someone tries to use your imperfection against you, consider what they’re actually asking for: not progress, but perfection. Not practice, but performance.

That’s not Stoicism.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at ⁠https://stoicismpod.com/members⁠

Looking for more Stoic content? Consider my 3x/week newsletter "Stoic Brekkie": ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Register for the May 9th workshop today: https://tannerocampbell.com/may

--

In this episode I work through how Stoic Justice differs from what we moderns typically mean by the word — because when we say "justice" today, we almost always mean retribution: rewards for the deserving, punishments for the rest. Stoic Justice isn't concerned with desert in that sense at all. It's concerned with giving each person what is owed to them as a fellow member of the Cosmopolis, and failing to do that is, on Stoic terms, about as serious a moral error as you can commit.

Along the way I push back on the fairly common claim that Justice is the "highest" of the cardinal virtues — the one that orients all the others and without which courage collapses into bravado, temperance into private self-management, and wisdom into mere cleverness. I grant the intuition has some force, but antakolouthia — the mutual entailment of the virtues — rules out any hierarchy, and I note that Marcus, contrary to what some popular communicators like to imply, isn't in the camp that elevates Justice above the rest.

From there I trace how our thirst for a culprit is eating away at social cohesion in the West. The older western instinct — that it is worse to wrongly convict the innocent than to let the guilty slip through — is being quietly replaced by something uglier: not "did this person do the thing?" but "is this person close enough to the thing that punishing them will feel like justice?" We're no longer just eager to punish the accused; we're hungry to produce more accused, and the bar for what counts as worthy of condemnation keeps dropping. Evidence stops being something to weigh and becomes something to enlist.

I argue this is injustice in the precise Stoic sense — not the cartoon sense of wanting to hurt someone, but a failure of attention. You cannot give each person their due if you will not first do the patient work of finding out what is due. And I close with what I want listeners to actually do: the next time they feel themselves reaching for a verdict, pause long enough to ask honestly whether they're trying to find out what's owed, or whether they're just trying to locate a target for something they were already feeling before this particular person walked into view. Getting the right outcome by accident isn't justice — justice is the discipline itself, and what's true of the individual eventually becomes true of the society they're part of.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Stoic Journaling 50% OFF - Use code EASTER50 - https://stoicjournaling.com

--

Live in Leicester? Join me live on May the 23rd: https://tannerocampbell.com/events/stoicism-a-complete-framework-for-living-a-good-life

--

In this episode, I explore the idea that “silence is complicity” and whether that claim holds up under Stoic scrutiny.

This phrase gets used as a kind of moral pressure—an attempt to force speech or action by implying that not speaking is equivalent to endorsing wrongdoing. But Stoicism doesn’t deal in slogans like this. It deals in judgment. It asks: what is appropriate for me, given my role, my knowledge, and the situation in front of me?

Sometimes speaking is the right thing to do. Sometimes it is not. The Stoic position is not that silence is always justified, nor that speech is always required, but that both must be evaluated through reason.

One of the problems with slogans like “silence is complicity” is that they bypass this process entirely. They encourage immediate assent to an impression—“something is wrong, therefore I must speak”—without first testing whether that impression is accurate, whether one understands the situation, or whether speaking will actually improve anything.

From a Stoic perspective, speaking without understanding can be just as irresponsible as remaining silent when action is required. Both are failures of judgment.

So the real question isn’t whether silence is complicity. The real question is: what is the just and appropriate response here? That requires slowing down, examining the impression, and being honest about what you do and do not know.

It also requires considering your role. Not every situation calls for your voice. Not every issue falls within your responsibility. And not every demand for speech is made in good faith.

That doesn’t mean you default to silence. It means you earn your speech. You speak when you have reasoned your way to the conclusion that speaking is the appropriate action—and you remain silent when that same process leads you elsewhere.

The takeaway is straightforward. Don’t outsource your moral judgment to slogans. Whether you speak or remain silent, make sure it is the result of clear reasoning, not social pressure.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at ⁠https://stoicismpod.com/members⁠

Looking for more Stoic content? Consider my 3x/week newsletter "Stoic Brekkie": ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join the Prokoptôn Journaling program: https://stoicjournaling.com use the code "BREKKIE" at checkout to save 25%

--

In this episode, recorded from the Isle of Raasay in the Scottish Inner Hebrides, I reflect on endurance and resilience—what they are, how they differ, and why both matter.

The setting matters. The Highlands and islands confront you with something modern life often hides: limits. Weather changes quickly. Conditions are often harsh. Nature does not adjust to you. You adjust to it. This creates a constant reminder of mortality—not just in the literal sense, but in the sense that good conditions don’t last, and neither do bad ones.

From there, I turn to endurance. We often think of endurance as physical strength, but from a Stoic perspective, it is not physical at all. Endurance is the ability to continue through difficulty because you choose to. It is grounded in rational judgment and strength of will, not muscle. Anyone can endure if they have trained their capacity to choose well under pressure.

Resilience is different. Where endurance is about carrying the load, resilience is about recovering after carrying it. It is the ability to return to stability, to maintain hope, and to continue living well after hardship. This is much harder to cultivate.

I push back on the modern idea that resilience is built through constant stress exposure. That approach often misses the essential component: rest. Without deliberate recovery, systems break down. True resilience requires cycles—effort followed by rest, strain followed by recovery.

I use the analogy of steam-bending wood. You cannot force wood into shape all at once. You apply pressure gradually, allow it to rest, and repeat the process. Over time, the structure changes. The same is true for human resilience.

The takeaway is simple. Endurance is about choosing to carry difficulty. Resilience is about knowing how to recover from it. Both are necessary. Neither is built through brute force alone.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at ⁠https://stoicismpod.com/members⁠
Looking for more Stoic content? Consider my 3x/week newsletter "Stoic Brekkie": ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My Stoic Journaling Program is now 25% OFF with code "BREKKIE". Sign up at https://stoicjournaling.com.

--

In this episode, I explore a growing concern: will AI eliminate human work, and if it does, what happens to our sense of purpose?

I start by acknowledging the reality in front of us. AI is rapidly improving across creative and technical domains. Tasks that once required human skill are now being automated or reduced to minimal input. This is not speculation. It is already happening. Many forms of labour and many learnable skills are being replaced or compressed by technology.

From there, I push the question further. If this trend continues, we may face a future where traditional employment becomes rare or unnecessary. That raises a deeper issue. If our culture has been built around work as the primary source of meaning, what happens when that work disappears?

To answer this, I turn to Seneca and his writing on leisure. For the Stoics, leisure is not idleness. It is not the absence of work. It is the presence of directed attention toward what matters: self-examination, philosophical development, and contributing to others through wisdom and character. The problem is not that we may lose jobs. The problem is that we are not prepared to live well without them.

I argue that we have confused employment with purpose. Stoicism makes a clear distinction. A person can lose their job and still live a purposeful life. What matters is whether they are being useful to others, improving themselves, and acting in accordance with reason. That work does not require a paycheck.

I also acknowledge the uncertainty ahead. Economic systems may change. New structures like universal basic income may emerge. Or something else entirely. But rather than speculate too far into the future, the Stoic focus remains on preparation. We can begin now by asking what our purpose would be without our current job, and whether we can start moving toward that purpose today.

The core idea is simple. Job work may disappear, but meaningful effort will not. Stoicism gives us a framework for living well regardless of economic conditions. The question is whether we are ready to use it.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at ⁠https://stoicismpod.com/members⁠
Looking for more Stoic content? Consider my 3x/week newsletter "Stoic Brekkie": ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Take advantage here: ⁠https://stoicjournaling.com⁠

Use the code "BREKKIE" at checkout for 25% off.

That's it. Have a great rest of your week.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join Prokoptôn, a private community of dedicated practicing Stoics working together to improve. Learn more at https://skool.com/prokopton

In this episode, I respond to a surge of listener questions about masculinity following a recent documentary on the so-called “manosphere.” The central question is simple: what does Stoicism actually say about what it means to be a man?

I begin by clarifying a core Stoic idea. Just as the Stoic aims toward the ideal of the Sage, a man should aim toward becoming a good man. These are not fixed endpoints but guiding horizons. The goal is not perfection, but progress toward moral excellence over the course of a lifetime.

From there, I address the common claims made by masculinity influencers. Wealth, physical strength, refusal to be censored, and dominance over women are often presented as defining traits of a “good man.” From a Stoic perspective, all of these fail. Wealth and strength are external. They do not determine character. Unfiltered speech is not virtue, but often a failure of judgment. And dominance over others is fundamentally unjust, especially when it involves suppressing another person’s rational agency.

So what, then, defines a good man?

The Stoic answer is straightforward: a good man fulfills his roles well. He takes seriously what is appropriate of him as a human being, as a member of a family, a community, and the broader world. He reasons through his responsibilities and works consistently to meet them. He is patient, just, self-controlled, and committed to improving both himself and the lives of those around him.

This leads to an important conclusion. The qualities that make a good man are the same qualities that make a good woman. Reason, virtue, and the capacity for moral development are not gendered traits. As Musonius Rufus argued, both men and women share the same capacity for virtue and should be trained accordingly.

I close by emphasizing that masculinity, properly understood, is not about status, power, or control. It is about living in accordance with reason and fulfilling one’s roles well. That is what it means to be a good man. And ultimately, that is what it means to be a good human being.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at ⁠https://stoicismpod.com/members⁠
Looking for more Stoic content? Consider my 3x/week newsletter "Stoic Brekkie": ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join Prokoptôn, a private community of dedicated practicing Stoics working together to improve. Learn more at https://skool.com/prokopton

--

In this episode, I explore Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations 6.27 and what it teaches us about anger. Marcus reminds us that when people do wrong, they do so because they believe their actions are beneficial or appropriate. Our task, therefore, is not to react with anger but to teach, explain, and correct with patience.

That idea opens the door to a deeper question: what is anger actually for? Some modern thinkers claim anger is necessary for progress, even suggesting that it fuels social change. I disagree. Anger is not a driver of wise action. It is a signal.

Anger alerts us that something has happened which does not accord with our expectations, values, or understanding. That is its only real utility. Once the signal appears, the work begins. We must translate that signal into usable information by asking questions: What happened? Why did it happen? What assumptions am I making? Could I be mistaken?

This process turns anger into data. The signal draws our attention to an impression. Rational questioning extracts information from it. And our willingness to revise our own assumptions ensures that we do not simply act on emotional certainty.

Seneca makes the Stoic position clear in On Anger: anger itself contributes nothing useful to action. Virtue never requires the assistance of vice. Anger is not a helpful fuel for moral progress. It is a destabilizing force that clouds judgment and pushes us toward impulsive decisions.

The goal, then, is not to eliminate anger entirely, since it is part of our human psychology. The goal is to refuse to act while under its influence. Socrates captures this beautifully when he tells a servant, “I would strike you, were I not angry.” His point is simple. If the desire to punish someone appears at the same moment as anger, we cannot trust that the desire is rational. The wise response is to pause until calm judgment returns.

This is the Stoic discipline in practice. Anger may signal that something is wrong. But only reason can determine what should be done about it.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

--

I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at ⁠https://stoicismpod.com/members⁠

Looking for more Stoic content? Consider my 3x/week newsletter "Stoic Brekkie": ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join Prokoptôn, a private community of dedicated practicing Stoics working together to improve. Learn more at https://skool.com/prokopton

--

Support my work for as little as $1 a month: https://stoicismpod.com/members

--

Subscribe to my Stoic Brekkie newsletter: https://stoicbrekkie.com

--

I pull heavily from Leonidas Konstantakos' "Stoicism and Just War Theory" doctoral dissertation in this episode. I encourage you to download it and read it yourself: ⁠https://digitalcommons.fiu.edu/record/13724⁠

--

In this episode, I take up a difficult question: can war ever be just in Stoicism? Not justified. Not strategically useful. Not legal. But truly just — meaning virtuous and right.

I begin by setting aside the two dominant modern frameworks for thinking about war: utilitarianism and deontology. Utilitarianism evaluates war based on consequences. If enough good results from it, the war can be defended. Deontology evaluates war based on rules. Some actions are always wrong, regardless of outcomes. Stoicism does neither.

Using the firebombing of Dresden and the ticking time bomb scenario, I explain how the Stoic approach shifts the focus away from body counts and legal rules and onto character. For the Stoic, external outcomes — even death and destruction — are morally indifferent. What matters is the internal condition of the agents making decisions. Are they acting from justice, courage, and wisdom? Or from fear, ambition, pride, or the desire to dominate?

Drawing on Cicero’s On Duties and later Stoic interpretation, I outline the core criteria: right intention, proper authority, discrimination, and war as a last resort aimed at peace. A war undertaken from a corrupted value structure — where victory is treated as a good in itself — reflects vice. A war undertaken from rational concern for preserving the cosmopolis, after all other paths have been exhausted, may be just.

I also address torture and why the Stoic rejects it, not because of rule-following or cost-benefit calculations, but because it corrupts the agent. It reflects disordered judgment and a failure of oikeiôsis — a failure to recognize another rational being as part of the same moral community. Stoicism is not rule-based. It is character-based.

I then turn to the present. We cannot fully know the internal motives of national leaders. We can only infer. War may be just or unjust depending on the reasoning behind it. That reasoning is ultimately visible only to the agent and their daimon — their inner rational faculty.

Finally, I bring the question home. Most of us are not heads of state. But the Stoic framework for just war is simply Stoic ethics scaled up. The same question applies in everyday conflict: am I acting from virtue, or from ego and fear? The work of the prokoptôn is constant self-examination, especially when stakes are high.

War can be just in Stoicism. But only if it is conducted by people whose souls are ordered toward peace, whose intentions are clean, and whose reason has honestly left them no alternative.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Subscribe to the FREE Stoic Brekkie newsletter: ⁠https://stoicbrekkie.com⁠

I am a public philosopher. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, and keep it independent and online, at https://stoicismpod.com/members

In this episode, I respond to a short clip discussing incest as an example of emotivism in meta-ethics. Emotivism claims that when we say something is wrong, we are not stating a fact but expressing disapproval. The suggestion in the clip is that incest may ultimately be “wrong” only because we feel that it is wrong.

I take that seriously. It is true that many people struggle to articulate why incest is objectively wrong beyond saying it feels disgusting. And philosophers should care about that. If something is wrong, we should be able to explain why in rational terms.

Using Stoic role ethics, I outline a clear argument. In Stoicism, some roles are grounded in nature. These roles are not arbitrary. They come with built-in functions and ends. The sibling role is ordered toward familial care, trust, and cooperative development within the household. It is explicitly non-erotic because its function is to stabilize kinship bonds. The lover role, by contrast, is ordered toward erotic partnership and exclusivity.

When a person attempts to merge these roles, they introduce incompatible aims into a single relationship. Stoic role ethics holds that voluntarily chosen roles must not contradict natural ones. If they do, one role must be abandoned. Because the sibling role is grounded in nature, it cannot be abandoned without corrupting its function. Adopting the lover role toward a sibling therefore represents a rational error. It makes both roles impossible to fulfil properly.

This means the wrongness is not based on disgust. It is based on contradiction within the structure of human roles and the failure to live coherently within them. Stoicism does not reduce morality to feeling. It grounds moral judgment in reason, nature, and the proper fulfilment of roles within the human community.

I also explain why this matters more broadly. If moral claims are reduced to preference or emotion, then they shift with culture, fashion, or mood. Stoicism resists that instability by anchoring ethics in a rational framework. That framework may be debated, refined, or defended, but it is not merely expressive.

The point is simple: saying something “feels wrong” is not the same as explaining why it must be wrong. Philosophy should move us from reaction to reason.

Listening on Spotify? Leave a comment! Share your thoughts.

Podcast artwork by Original Randy: https://www.originalrandy.com

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

I answer questions from a classroom of children about Stoicism and "the old times, when I was a kid."

Please enjoy this special edition.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices