As Mount Vesuvius erupted, those who could run away did. Those who were far away could see only the plumes of smoke and ash. But Pliny the Elder, an admiral and amateur scientist, was immediately curious. He planned to go investigate until a messenger came with urgent news from a friend trapped at the foot of the mountain. Assembling the fleet, Pliny rushed to the scene in utter fearlessness to rescue all those he could by boat. 

Arriving, he found the shoreline blocked by debris. A helmsman advised they turn back. We talked before about how “fortune favors the bold.” Do you know where that expression comes from? From Pliny, who refused to turn back. “‘Fortes fortuna iuvat: Pomponianum pete,’” he commanded. “Fortune favors the bold, head for Pomponianus.” As Pliny’s nephew recounted, what “he had begun in a spirit of inquiry he completed as a hero.” Tragically, Pliny did not survive. His friend Pomponianus, however, did. 

When the Antonine Plague overwhelmed Rome, if you had the means to flee, you did. No one would have faulted Marcus if he had done so too. But he never considered it. “People are our proper occupation,” he’d write during the plague. “Our job is to do them good.” So Marcus did his job. He braved the deadliest plague of Rome’s 900-year history.

Courage is a critical Stoic virtue. The idea is not just that we’re obligated to contribute to the world but that we will have to brave obstacles and risk and misfortune to do so. For thousands of years, the Stoics have been like Pliny, like Marcus, like Cato, like Stockdale, fighting for his comrades in that POW camp, defying his captors at every turn. 

That’s what Stoics do. They help others. They risk themselves. They lead the charge. They like it when the odds seem to be against them because they know that the momentum of history is secretly with them, even if they had to suffer or perish for it. What mattered was what was right. What mattered was the cause.