When it comes to Stoicism, the ancient Greek philosophy often associated with phrases like “keep calm and carry on” or “no, seriously, stop crying,” it’s all about virtue, reason, and keeping your emotions in check. Their basic premise is this: life’s a bit of a mess, but you don’t have to be. While the world around you may collapse, crumble, and rain down sheets of chaos, you can maintain your inner fortress of calm, like a well-trained statue — still and unbothered.
At the heart of Stoicism is the idea that human beings should focus on what they can control, and forget about the rest. This includes how we respond to emotions. Enter passion, or as the Stoics preferred to call it: “an inconvenience.” The Stoics, led by names like Seneca, Epictetus, and the ever-popular Marcus Aurelius, saw passion as a potentially destructive force. And no, they didn’t mean passion in the “I’m passionate about my career” way. They meant raw, unbridled emotions like anger, jealousy, fear, and (surprise!) intense love.
In the Stoic framework, passion isn’t something to embrace or celebrate. Instead, it’s more like that overly enthusiastic guest at a party who turns everything upside down — completely unnecessary and best left at home. According to them, passions arise when we let external things – over which we have zero control – start dictating our internal state. The solution? Let reason drive the bus, and throw emotions in the back seat. They can come along for the ride, but they’re definitely not allowed to touch the steering wheel.
Now, the Stoics weren’t advocating for emotional suppression (although it seems a lot like they were sometimes). They wanted to refine emotions so that reason could keep everything in check. They divided emotions into “good ones,” aligned with reason, and “bad ones,” aligned with unchecked passion. Fear and desire? Bad. Rational joy and caution? Good. Feelings, they argued, are fine — it’s when they turn into wild, irrational passions that things go awry.
But not everyone was on board with this “emotionally conservative” approach. Enter the Epicureans, the friendly philosophers next door. These folks were all about pleasure — not in an excessive, hedonistic way (well, sometimes), but they saw passion and desire as natural parts of life. The Epicureans believed that some pleasures, like friendship and tranquility, were key to happiness. They didn’t dismiss passions like the Stoics did, but instead worked to balance them, aiming for a life of moderation.
Where the Stoics would have you handling your passions like ticking time bombs, the Epicureans were more like, “Hey, maybe enjoy some fine wine and good company, just don’t overdo it.” The Stoics saw this as a slippery slope into madness. The Epicureans? More like, “what’s life without a little indulgence?”
In summary, Stoicism advises that you should side-eye your passions, keep them in check, and live by reason. The Epicureans, on the other hand, see passion as less of a menace and more of a fine wine — to be enjoyed with some caution but definitely savored.