On the surface, Cicero appears the perfect Stoic. He studied with all the right teachers. He served in office for decades. He was friends with Cato. Diodotus, the old Stoic philosopher, even died in Cicero’s house and left his estate to him. But it’s ironic that Cicero, the author of a book called Stoic Paradoxes, would himself fail to embody a paradox that goes to the core of the philosophy. 

Like Cicero, Marcus Aurelius and Seneca and Cato were all deeply active—active in politics, active in business, active in life. They had wives, they had money, they had books they published, they had power. But what they also had, which Cicero seemed to never be able to master, was a stillness within all these activities. Sure, Marcus Aurelius held incredible power and Seneca had incredible wealth, but what both of them thankfully lacked was the sense of desperation and lust that came to define Cicero. Cicero needed. His two most outstanding qualities, besides his brilliance, was what observers termed his philodoxia and philotimia—his love of fame and honor. Meanwhile, Marcus Aurelius and Seneca made the best of the good fortune they found in life, but there was a sense they could jettison it in a moment’s notice. 

The true Stoic paradox is that the Stoic has but does not need. The Stoic is active in a noisy world full of craving, but manages to be at peace despite it all. They are moving—upward and onwards always—and yet they are still. 

Where does this stillness come from? It comes from virtue. Marcus knew what he stood for, he knew what was important. Seneca believed in serving the state, in doing his duty, even if that meant working for someone who he could not have respected. Cicero, on the other hand, was more likely to put his finger to the wind to find out what he believed. He served his own interests more than the Republic’s. He needed to achieve greatness, and that’s why he was always doing and compromising and chattering. Ultimately, his painful demise was defined by this uncertainty—should he leave Rome or stay? Should he prostrate before Octavian or Mark Antony? Should he face death bravely or flee? He wavered. He hesitated. He left and came back. And then finally was overtaken by his enemies outside Rome and decapitated. 

It is wonderful to be talented. It is wonderful to achieve. A Stoic can have both those things, but they can’t need them. A Stoic can be active, but they have to be capable of spiritual stillness, of virtue, of principled confidence. Cicero lacked this. Marcus Aurelius didn’t. 

Who will you be?

P.S. This was originally sent on September 18, 2020. Sign up today for the Daily Stoic’s email and get our popular free 7-day course on Stoicism.