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Chapter 1

Establishing a Philosophical Identity in Antiquity

Although as a formal subject of study philosophy had existed for at least some 600 to 700 years,¹ during the time of the late Roman Republic and Roman Empire philosophy was enjoying one of its, if not the, most notable periods of its influence.² The concerns and idioms that marked its discourse now found themselves regularly punctuating the conversations of educated/cultured society;³ mosaics, statues, and coins were eagerly commissioned to celebrate its most famous members; the lecture rooms of its exponents were toured as a matter of routine by the children of the elite; and philosophers were enthusiastically inducted into the client bases of well-connected and aspiringly erudite patrons.⁴ Moreover, the increasing provision of resources such as epitomes, gnomologies, doxographies, and public lectures/readings were enabling many of philosophy’s ideas to reach people who would, from either a lack of resources or resolve, have otherwise remained ignorant of them.⁵

This influence and diffusion of philosophy in antiquity, as well as the decentralization of the schools as institutions after the rise of Rome,⁶ meant that establishing who was, and who was not, a philosopher was perhaps not as easy a distinction to make as it might at first be imagined.⁷ Indeed, from the middle of the first century BCE, people apparently felt increasingly able to assert that they were affiliated with one of philosophy’s schools, even if they had never been formally instructed in its tenets, or had ever explored its cache of texts.⁸ It should be highlighted that the difficulty in classifying an ancient person as a philosopher is not just felt by modern interpreters looking back with hindsight. Numerous classical authors comment, or allude, to the fact that with little formalized means of identifying a philosopher, discerning a genuine philosopher from an inadequate or even fraudulent claimant of the title can be problematic.⁹ Dio Chrysostom (ca. 40–115 CE), for instance, remarks: “However, it is possible there is nothing to prevent one’s claiming to be a philosopher and at the same time playing the impostor and deceiving himself and everyone else,” τὸ δέ γε φῆσαι φιλοσοφεῖν καὶ ἀλαζονεύεσθαι καὶ αὑτὸν ἐξαπατῆσαι καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους οὐδὲν ἴσως κωλύει, and elsewhere he reveals that, in his estimation, most people could be deceived by the mere pretense of philosophical acumen.¹⁰ A similar frustration is shared by Apuleius (ca. 124–170 CE), who at one point declares that he wishes a proclamation (edictum) could be issued so that people might easily recognize an authentic philosopher, and penalties enacted to dissuade the inappropriate donning of the philosopher’s mantle¹¹—an innovation that Epictetus also intimates he would like to see.¹²

A further ambiguity, as Harry Hine has highlighted,¹³ is that even figures such as Cicero and Seneca, who are highly regarded expositors of ancient philosophy and whose writings we depend upon to help us better map the contours of ancient philosophical thought, appear to have declined to use the title philosopher (philosophus) to describe themselves. With regards to Cicero, Hine notes that on several occasions the implications of his remarks are that he believes he can claim the identity of being a philosopher, but that he consistently refrains from doing so.¹⁴ In particular, Hine points out at Tusc. 2.1, Cicero opines that individuals who are engaged in the search for wisdom can be called philosophi, which implies broadening philosophical identity beyond people who have formal institutional ties with a school, or a professional responsibility to instruct others in philosophical tenets. Such a definition of a philosopher would also, quite naturally, include Cicero within its purview, but again is an implication that Hine notes Cicero leaves for his readers to draw.¹⁵ In addition, it can be noted that at De Off. 1.2, a text which Hine does not cite, where Cicero draws a direct equivalence between his philosophical efforts and those of Peripatetic writers, he again deftly avoids using the epithet philosophus to describe himself. Similarly with regards to Seneca, Hine highlights that he never applies the title philosophus to describe himself within his large body of writing—although it might be highlighted that he does freely describe himself as having a philosophical affiliation to Stoicism.¹⁶

Cicero’s and Seneca’s hesitancy to use the title philosophus to describe themselves, but to evidently believe and present themselves as being engaged in philosophizing is explained by Hine as being due to the particular socioeconomic background that these men had in common. In his study, Hine argues that for high-ranking Roman individuals the title (although not the identity) of philosopher would connote an image of a lower-class, usually Greek figure who was vocationally engaged in coaching young men to understand philosophical thought. Hine asserts that a few decades after Seneca’s life the reticence from high-ranking Roman individuals to lay claim to the title of philosophus disappears, and we see figures such as Aupelius (fl. 150 CE), who was born into a local elite family in North Africa, striving to have their status as a philosopher openly recognized.¹⁷

Hine concludes his study by asserting: “I am not for one moment suggesting that it is inappropriate for us to call Cicero and Seneca and Romans philosophers,”¹⁸ something that people who have a familiarity with both individual’s philosophical efforts, and who do not associate philosophers with individuals of low, Greek birth would doubtless raise little objection to.

If, as has just been argued, people who had little interest in teasing out complex philosophical ideas could attempt to stake their claim to be philosophers, while some of the ancient world’s most notable philosophical thinkers had often declined to use the title, how, it might be wondered, was philosophical identity during the Roman period evaluated? Within this chapter I will explore this topic with reference to numerous ancient writers, but given the frequent illuminating remarks that he is recorded as making on the issue, my attention will chiefly focus upon Epictetus. Consideration will also be given to people who were viewed as being decidedly beyond the confines of philosophical identity—namely, laypeople. Finally, sections on whether representatives from rival schools recognized the legitimacy of each other’s philosophical status, and if students were acknowledged to be philosophers, will also be explored.

Conduct and Philosophical Identity

With regards to conduct, while instilling ethical behavior in students is (at least within a university setting) largely absent from the formal evaluation of modern philosophical instruction, in antiquity this objective propelled the entire enterprise.¹⁹ As Michael Trapp notes: “[ancient] philosophy, taken as seriously as it showed itself to want to be taken, posed an evangelical challenge, to life-changing commitment of a kind that could make awkward demands on the individual; in particular, it could demand the adoption of values and targets at odds with those of ordinary civic society.”²⁰ This expectation can be seen being repeatedly emphasized across the records of the Stoics’ teachings,²¹ but note in particular the following passage from Arius Didymus:

For it is not the person who eagerly listens to and makes notes of what is spoken by the philosophers who is ready for philosophizing, but the person who is ready to transfer the prescriptions of philosophy to his deeds and to live in accord with them.²²

Οὐ γὰρ τὸν προθύμως ἀκούοντα καὶ ὑπομνη ματιζόμενον τὰ λεγόμενα ὑπὸ τῶν φιλοσόφων ἕτοιμον εἶναι πρὸς τὸ φιλοσοφεῖν, ἀλλὰ τὸν ἑτοίμως ἔχοντα πρὸς τὸ τὰ διὰ τῆς φιλοσοφίας παραγγελλόμενα μεταφέρειν ἐπὶ τὰ ἔργα καὶ κατ᾿ αὐτὰ βιοῦν.

In this passage, it argued that it is not an individual’s apprehension of philosophical theory in itself that is considered to be the goal of their education, but rather their successful application of philosophical doctrines to their life (or the philosophy’s orders/prescriptions—παραγγέλλω). For Arius Didymus, the tenets of philosophy should be transferred (μεταφέρω) to impact a person’s deeds (ἔργα) and how they live (βιόω) their life. Meanwhile Seneca, laconically but notably, states: “She [philosophy] is not a thing to be followed at odd times, but a subject for daily practice,” Non est res subsiciva, ordinaria est; domina est.²³ Moreover, a catalogue of stories regarding individuals whose exposure to philosophy instigated a dramatic, lifelong reorientation of their lives, such as the effect that Plato’s philosophizing had upon Speusippus, that Diogenes’ had upon Crates, and that Xenocrates’ had upon Polemo, is documented in classical literature.²⁴ In particular though, note Lucian’s portrayal of the effect that a lecture on Platonism had upon one audience member:

When he had said this and much more of the same sort, he ended his talk. Until then I had listened to him in awe, fearing that he would cease. When he stopped, I felt like the Phaeacians of old,²⁵ for I stared at him a long time spellbound. Afterwards, in a great fit of confusion and giddiness, I dripped with sweat, I stumbled and stuck in the endeavor to speak, my voice failed, my tongue faltered, and finally I began to cry in embarrassment; for the effect he produced in me was not superficial or casual. My wound was deep and vital, and his words, shot with great accuracy, clove, if I may say so, my very soul in two.²⁶

ταῦτά τε καὶ πολλὰ ἕτερα τοιαῦτα διελθὼν κατέπαυσε τὸν λόγον. ἐγὼ δὲ `τέως μὲν ἤκουον αὐτοῦ τεθηπώς, μὴ σιωπήσῃ πεφοβημένος: ἐπειδὴ δὲ ἐπαύσατο, τοῦτο δὴ τὸ τῶν Φαιάκων πάθος ἐπεπόνθειν πολὺν γὰρ δὴ χρόνον ἐς αὐτὸν ἀπέβλεπον κεκηλημένος εἶτα πολλῇ συγχύσει καὶ ἰλίγγῳ κατειλημμένος τοῦτο μὲν ἱδρῶτι κατερρεόμην, τοῦτο δὲ φθέγξασθαι βουλόμενος ἐξέπιπτόν τε καὶ ἀνεκοπτόμην, καὶ ἥ τε φωνὴ ἐξέλειπε καὶ ἡ γλῶττα διημάρτανε, καί τέλος ἐδάκρυον ἀπορούμενος: οὐ γὰρ ἐξ ἐπιπολῆς οὐδ᾽ ὡς ἔτυχεν ἡμῶν ὁ λόγος καθίκετο, βαθεῖα δὲ καὶ καίριος ἡ πληγὴ ἐγένετο, καὶ μάλα εὐστόχως ἐνεχθεὶς ὁ λόγος αὐτήν, εἰ οἷόν τε εἰπεῖν, διέκοψε τὴν ψυχήν.

In this vivid account, Lucian depicts the recounting of Platonic tenets as having induced an almost-epiphinal moral awakening in this student (eliciting wonder/awe τέθηπα), which produced a wound so deep that it cut his soul in two and manifested itself in his physical distress and immobilization.²⁷ The significant impact that philosophy could have upon the character of its students is, however, perhaps most effectively relayed by Seneca’s profound remark: “I feel, my dear Lucilius, that I am being not only reformed, but transformed (transfigurari),” Intellego, Lucili, non emendari me tantum sed transfigurari. ²⁸ Descriptions such as these, and others, regarding the reorientation of an individual’s values and aspirations because of their introduction to philosophical theory (e.g. see also Seneca’s description of the “burning” (flagro) desire that new adherents of philosophy can feel for learning all they can about their chosen philosophy and Marcus Aurelius’ reflections on the effect that the writings of the Stoic Aristo had upon him²⁹) have led some scholars to conclude that “conversion” is often the most apt word in modern parlance to describe an ancient person’s decision to commit themselves to a philosophical school, regardless of the particular tradition that they opted to associate with.³⁰

Conversely, people who failed to observe the robust moral principles that were advocated by the philosophy they professed to adhere to are censured by numerous classical writers, with particular criticism being made of philosophers who betray an interest in seeking glory and money, in feasting, or in pursuing acts of sexual deviance.³¹ Being wary of such duplicitous individuals, potential students (including Stoic ones) are recorded as carefully scrutinizing the conduct of their intended philosophical instructor for any signs of moral laxity before they would entrust their philosophical development to them.³² Seneca even portrays a friend of his seeking to counter Seneca’s attempts to persuade him of the value of the philosophical life by recounting examples of Stoics who chase after money and girls and who are gluttonous.³³ What is of relevance to us here is that such venally oriented people are often asserted in our sources to not just be hypocrites, but to have ended their ability to legitimately identify themselves with their chosen philosophy. For example, this is bluntly stated in Dio Chrysostom’s writings,³⁴ and in Plutarch’s account of his attempt to arbitrate between two brothers in a legal dispute, one of whom was reputed to be a philosopher, but—after observing his contemptuous behavior toward his sibling—Plutarch concludes has been assigned a false epithet (ψευδεπίγραφος).³⁵ In addition, Aulus Gellius documents that a philosopher (of unspecified persuasion) associate of his had a particular dislike of base and idle people whom he judged as seeking to put a cover (pallium) over their failings by adopting the dress of a philosopher, and recounted that the sophist and senator Herodes Atticus reproved a man who he had judged falsely (falso) laid claim to the title and character of a philosopher.³⁶ In addition, in a passage that lays bare that gaining knowledge of an individual’s good conduct was deemed to be necessary before confidence in their status as a philosopher could be established, Gellius narrates that when a man who was dressed as a Cynic, but who turned out to be of worthless character, approached Herodes and requested money, Herodes replied by asking who he was because “I see, said Herodes, a beard and a cloak; the philosopher I do not yet see.” “‘Video’ inquit Herodes, ‘barbam et pallium, philosophum nondum video.’”³⁷

Strikingly, Gellius also documents that Herodes sought to expose a pompous and self-affected student of Stoicism by appealing to the records of Epictetus’ discussions in a way that both disclose the ancient expectation that a philosopher should adhere to a high standard of moral behavior and also reveal a near contemporary of Epictetus framing his stance on this topic in a way that parallels the one that will be supplied in this chapter.

“Allow me, mightiest of philosophers, since we, whom you call laypeople, cannot answer you, to read from a book of Epictetus, greatest of Stoics, what he thought and said about such big talk as that of yours.” And he bade them bring the first volume of the Discourses of Epictetus, arranged by Arrian, in which that venerable old man with just severity rebukes those young men who, though calling themselves Stoics, showed neither virtue nor honest industry, but merely babbled of trifling propositions and of the fruits of their study of such elements as are taught to children. Then, when the book was brought, there was read the passage which I have appended,³⁸ in which Epictetus with equal severity and humor set apart and separated from the true and genuine Stoic, who was beyond question without restraint or constraint, unembarrassed, free, prosperous and happy, that other mob of triflers who styled themselves Stoics, and casting the black soot of their verbiage before the eyes of their hearers, laid false claim to the name of the holiest of sects.³⁹

‘Permitte inquit, philosophorum amplissime, quoniam respondere nos tibi, quos vocas idiotas, non quimus, recitari ex libro quid de huiuscemodi magniloquentia vestra senserit dixeritque Epictetus, Stoicorum maximus’ iussitque proferri Dissertationum Epicteti digestarum ab Arriano primum librum, in quo ille venerandus senex iuvenes qui se ‘Stoicos’ appellabant, neque frugis neque operae probae, sed theorematis tantum nugalibus et puerilium isagogarum commentationibus deblaterantes, obiurgatione iusta incessuit. Lecta igitur sunt ex libro qui prolatus est ea quae addidi; quibus verbis Epictetus severe simul et festiviter seiunxit atque divisit a vero atque sincero Stoico, qui esset procul dubio ἀκώλυτος, ἀνανάγκαστος, ἀπαραπόδιστος, ἐλεύθερος, εὐπορῶν, εὐδαιμονῶν, vulgus aliud nebulonum hominum qui se ‘Stoicos’ nuncuparent, atraque verborum et argutiarum fuligine ob oculos audientium iacta1 sanctissimae disciplinae nomen ementirentur.

In the above passage, people who present themselves as being Stoics, and who have the ability to recount the school’s doctrines to a great and even irritating length, but who do not concede to follow its ethical principles, are asserted to be false (ementior) members of the school, and it is argued that—at least conceptually—they should be separated (seiungo) from true (verus) Stoics.

Further revealing the force that Epictetus’ remarks were understood in antiquity to have in challenging the discordance that exists between many purported philosophers’ teachings and their actions, Gellius later remarks that Favorinus (whose own philosophical enterprise it can be noted was vulnerable to charges of sophistry⁴⁰) records that Epictetus declared most individuals who give the appearance of practicing philosophy were: “without deeds, only so far as words,” id significat factis procul, verbis tenus.⁴¹

Turning to consider the records of Epictetus’ discussions for ourselves, it can first of all be observed that he provides evidence that the wider public were, at least to some extent, aware that to declare a philosophical identity required that the claimant should follow a high level of moral behavior; as he comments to his students: “We cannot bear to have those who meet us say, ‘Look, so-and-so has become a philosopher, who was like this or that,’” οὐδὲ φέρομεν τοὺς ἀπαντῶντας καὶ λέγοντας ‘εἴδ᾽ ὁ δεῖνα φιλοσοφεῖ, ὁ τοῖος καὶ ὁ τοῖος.’⁴² That is, their previous behavior did not suggest a life that would naturally come to be dedicated to philosophical study. Meanwhile, Epictetus depicts a bystander, observing a philosopher who was disturbed by a noise and whose reflexes disclosed his concern for his physical safety, as exclaiming: “Philosopher, what has become of what you were saying? Where did it come from? From your lips only?” ποῦ ἐστιν, φιλόσοφε, ἐκεῖνα ἃ ἔλεγες; πόθεν αὐτὰ προφερόμενος ἔλεγες; ἀπὸ τῶν χειλῶν αὐτόθεν.⁴³

Secondly, Epictetus’ own high expectation of his students’ behavior is repeatedly evidenced; for example, he trenchantly informs one of them:

Do you think that you can act as you currently do, and still be a philosopher? That you can eat, drink, and burst forth with anger and irascibility as you do now? You must conquer certain desires, must be aloof to your familiars, be derided by a slave, be mocked by the people you meet; come off worse than others in everything, whether that be in power, in honor, in the courts. When you have diligently weighed all these things then, if you think it suitable, come to philosophy, and be willing to exchange all of this for serenity, freedom and an unperturbed mind. Otherwise do not come near.⁴⁴

καίτοι τίς οὕτως δύναται εἰπεῖν ὡς ἐκεῖνος; θέλουσιν καὶ αὐτοὶ φιλοσοφεῖν. ἄνθρωπε, σκέψαι πρῶτον τί ἐστι τὸ πρᾶγμα, εἶτα καὶ τὴν σαυτοῦ φύσιν, τί δύνασαι βαστάσαι. εἰ παλαιστής, ἰδού σου τοὺς ὤμους, τοὺς μηρούς, τὴν ὀσφῦν. ἄλλος γὰρ πρὸς ἄλλο τι πέφυκεν. δοκεῖς ὅτι ταῦτα ποιῶν δύνασαι φιλοσοφεῖν; δοκεῖς ὅτι δύνασαι ὡσαύτως ἐσθίειν, ὡσαύτως πίνειν, ὁμοίως ὀργίζεσθαι, ὁμοίως δυσαρεστεῖν; ἀγρυπνῆσαι δεῖ, πονῆσαι, νικῆσαί τινας ἐπιθυμίας, ἀπελθεῖν ἀπὸ τῶν οἰκείων, ὑπὸ παιδαρίου καταφρονηθῆναι, ὑπὸ τῶν ἀπαντώντων καταγελασθῆναι, ἐν παντὶ ἔλασσον ἔχειν, ἐν ἀρχῇ, ἐν τιμῇ, ἐν δίκῃ. ταῦτα περισκεψάμενος, εἴ σοι δοκεῖ, προσέρχου, εἰ θέλεις ἀντικαταλλάξασθαι τούτων ἀπάθειαν, ἐλευθερίαν, ἀταραξίαν. εἰ δὲ μή, μὴ πρόσαγε.

In this passage, everything from eating and drinking habits to the conquering of desires are asserted by Epictetus to be under philosophy’s oversight. If the student cannot manage to undertake this effort, he is told that he must not (μὴ πρόσαγε) come near engaging in the study of philosophy. Epictetus similarly proceeds to caution that individuals should not consider commencing philosophical study in the same lighthearted manner as children do when they envisage their possible future careers, such as vacillating between aspiring to be a wrestler one moment, a gladiator the next, and a trumpet player the next. In Epictetus’ view, philosophy’s candidates should instead manifest a similar disposition to athletes who manage to achieve success at the Olympic Games: namely, a steely resolve and an unbaiting fixation upon obtaining this hard-won goal.⁴⁵ Furthermore, one of Epictetus’ frequently utilized words to express the training that his students should undertake is ἄσκησις, a word that holds the sense of a drill, or a routine that entails strenuous physical exercise.⁴⁶

Additionally, in a discourse that is entitled To Those Who Take Up the Teachings of the Philosophers For the Sake of Talk Alone (Πρὸς τοὺς μέχρι λόγου μόνον ἀναλαμβάνοντας τὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων), which is the passage that Aulus records Herodes citing above, Epictetus chides students under his tuition, and opens his comments in the imperative mood by exclaiming:

Observe how you conduct yourself, and you will find out to what school you are affiliated with. For most of you, you will find that you are Epicureans, and some are Peripatetics—although rather inadequate ones. For, how do you show that you believe virtue is equal, and even superior, to everything else? Show me a Stoic if there is one among you. Where, or how? . . . Who, then, is a Stoic? As we say a statue is “Phelidian” if it has been crafted according to the art of Pheidias, so show me a person who is fashioned in accordance with the judgements that he professes.⁴⁷

Τηρεῖτε οὕτως ἑαυτοὺς ἐν οἷς ἐπράσσετε καὶ εὑρήσετε τίνος ἔσθ᾽ αἱρέσεως. τοὺς πλείστους ὑμῶν Ἐπικουρείους εὑρήσετε, ὀλίγους τινὰς Περιπατητικοὺς καὶ τούτους ἐκλελυμένους. ποῦ γὰρ ἵν᾽ ὑμεῖς τὴν ἀρετὴν πᾶσιν τοῖς ἄλλοις ἴσην ἢ καὶ κρείττονα ἔργῳ ὑπολάβητε; Στωικὸν δὲ δείξατέ μοι, εἴ τινα ἔχητε. ποῦ ἢ πῶς; . . . τίς οὖν ἐστι Στωικός; ὡς λέγομεν ἀνδριάντα Φειδιακὸν τὸν τετυπωμένον κατὰ τὴν τέχνην τὴν Φειδίου, οὕτως τινά μοι δείξατε κατὰ τὰ δόγματα ἃ λαλεῖ τετυπωμένον.

Despite learning Stoicism in his school, because of their actions Epictetus claims that his pupils are actually the adherents of the Epicurean school (i.e., they are seeking pleasure⁴⁸), and he later scolds them for failing to exhibit progress in conquering their desires, or in managing their feelings of jealousy or anger, by asking: “why do you dress in a [philosophical] dress that is not yours, and walk around in it, as thieves and robbers who have stolen titles and properties that do not belong to them?” καὶ περιθέμενοι σχῆμα ἀλλότριον περιπατεῖτε κλέπται καὶ λωποδύται τούτων τῶν οὐδὲν προσηκόντων ὀνομάτων καὶ πραγμάτων.⁴⁹ Again, it can be seen from this passage, as well as other similar remarks that could be highlighted,⁵⁰ that praxis and philosophical identity are firmly interwoven for Epictetus: it is behavior that he believes truly evinces where a person’s philosophical allegiances lie and which reveal what philosophical commitments actually shape/mold them (τετυπωμένον). This connection is also demonstrated by Epictetus’ frequently expressed concern to censure individuals who pursue philosophy because they are interested in feasting, impressing a senator or family member, learning witty phrases, or obtaining financial gain.

It is notable that Epictetus even appears to suggest to his students that if they cannot bear to align their behavior with philosophy’s standards, then they should vacate his school,⁵¹ and he candidly states that if they are only interested in learning the history and theory of philosophy, instead of how to apply it truths to their lives, then they should realize that they are like children,⁵² and are training to become a literary scholar/grammarian (γραμματικός) and not a philosopher (φιλόσοφος).⁵³ For example, in one passage Epictetus argues whether it is one of his student’s habit/custom (ἔθος) to read books without giving recourse to consider how the teachings that are contained within them should impact their life: “I ask him to go home straight away and to not neglect his affairs there, for he has travelled here for nothing,” λέγω αὐτῷ αὐτόθεν πορεύεσθαι εἰς οἶκον καὶ μὴ ἀμελεῖν τῶν ἐκεῖ: τοῦτο γὰρ ἐφ᾽ ὃ ἀποδεδήμηκεν οὐδέν ἐστιν.⁵⁴ When considering Epictetus’ language use, it can be seen that the intended effect of his critique is amplified, as he characteristically uses ἔθος as a way to refer to thinking or an action that is done without reasoned deliberation.⁵⁵ Meanwhile, in another passage a hypothetical student who is portrayed as being solely interested in scholastic endeavors likewise has his continued presence in the school challenged, with Epictetus remarking to him: “Speak the truth then, you unfortunate thing, and do not put on airs and claim to be a philosopher. . . . leave this [true philosophy] to those people who are prepared for it, those with confidence. As for you, return to your own affairs, and never depart from them again,” λέγε οὖν τὰ ἀληθῆ, δύστηνε, καὶ μὴ ἀλαζονεύου μηδὲ φιλόσοφος . . . σὺ δ᾽ ἐπὶ τὰ σαυτοῦ βάδιζε καὶ ἐκείνων ἀποστῇς μηδέποτε.⁵⁶ It should be noted that the word for “claim” here, ἀλαζονεύομα, is not a morally neutral one, but is used to designate misleading, deceptive claims.

Following his teacher Rufus,⁵⁷ Epictetus also advocates bringing to light (δείκνυμι) a false philosopher not by having any deficiencies that exist in their comprehension of philosophical theory highlighted, but rather by their failure to let its teachings impact upon their lives:

From this conduct it can be observed what sort of person you are; why do you want to display it in any other way? Do you not know that Diogenes showed up one of the sophists in such a manner, by pointing at him with his middle finger, and when the man became enraged at that, Diogenes said: “That is the man; I have pointed him out to you.”⁵⁸

βλέπεται ἐξ αὐτῶν τούτων. τί θέλεις ἐξ ἄλλων δεῖξαι; οὐκ οἶδας, ὅτι Διογένης τῶν σοφιστῶν τινα οὕτως ἔδειξεν ἐκτείνας τὸν μέσον δάκτυλον, εἶτα ἐκμανέντος αὐτοῦ ‘οὗτός ἐστιν,’ ἔφη, ‘ὁ δεῖνα: ἔδειξα ὑμῖν αὐτόν.

In another passage, Epictetus imagines an individual who has not apprehended that improper behavior disqualifies someone from being a philosopher—regardless of whether they style themselves as one or not. Instead of looking to appearances, Epictetus argues that it is a person’s actions that will reveal if they are a philosopher:

But he [the person who views an apparent philosopher’s misdeeds] should rather have said, on the evidence of the indecent behavior, that he was not a philosopher at all. For, if this is the preconception of what a philosopher is and his profession, namely to wear a cloak and have long hair, they would be correct; but, if it is to keep himself free from faults, why, when he does not meet the demands of his profession, do they not remove the appellation of philosopher from him?⁵⁹

ἔδει δ᾽ ἀφ᾽ ὧν ἠσχημόνει μᾶλλον λέγειν αὐτὸν μὴ εἶναι φιλόσοφον. εἰ μὲν γὰρ αὕτη ἐστὶν ἡ τοῦ φιλοσόφου πρόληψις καὶ ἐπαγγελία, ἔχειν τρίβωνα καὶ κόμην, καλῶς ἂν ἔλεγον: εἰ δ᾽ ἐκείνη μᾶλλον, ἀναμάρτητον εἶναι, διὰ τί οὐχὶ διὰ τὸ μὴ πληροῦν τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν ἀφαιροῦνται αὐτὸν τῆς προσηγορίας; οὕτως γὰρ καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ἄλλων τεχνῶν.

It is within this context of prioritizing inner resolve and its accompanying actions, instead of mere appearances, that Epictetus elsewhere approvingly highlights that the Stoic Euphrates did not (as Epictetus appears to have done⁶⁰) adopt the dress of a philosopher, but was instead happy to live as a philosopher should.⁶¹ Finally, on this topic I suggest that it is worthwhile to give Discourse II.23, which is entitled To Those Who Read and Dispute/Declaim for Display (πρὸς τοὺς ἀναγιγνώσκaοντας καὶ διαλεγομένους ἐπιδεικτικῶς), extended consideration. Within this discourse no epithet is used to describe the type of people who Epictetus has in view, but he portrays them as styling themselves in fine robes, speaking from rostrums that are in spacious and well-attended lecture halls, and humoring their audiences’ desires in order to obtain praise (ἐπαινέω) and shouts of “bravo” (οὐά) from them.⁶² The discourse is lengthy, but its tone and purpose are well summarized in its closing lines:

But tell me, who, upon hearing you recite or lecture, has come to be anxious about himself, or turns to look upon himself, or has left saying: “That philosopher has really grabbed hold of me: I must no longer behave as I do?” No, to the contrary, for all that you are in high repute, one man says to another “That bit about Xerxes was neatly expressed,” to which the other replies, “No, I found the bit about Thermopylae to be better.” Is that what it means to listen to a philosopher?⁶³

ἢ εἰπέ μοι, τίς ἀκούων ἀναγιγνώσκοντός σου ἢ διαλεγομένου περὶ αὑτοῦ ἠγωνίασεν ἢ ἐπεστράφη: εἰς αὑτὸν ἢ ἐξελθὼν εἶπεν ὅτι ‘καλῶς μου ἥψατο ὁ φιλόσοφος: οὐκέτι δεῖ ταῦτα ποιεῖν;’ οὐχὶ δ᾽, ἂν λίαν εὐδοκιμῇς, λέγει πρός τινα ‘κομψῶς ἔφρασεν τὰ περὶ τὸν Ξέρξην,’ ἄλλος ‘οὔ: ἀλλὰ τὴν ἐπὶ Πύλαις μάχην;’ τοῦτό ἐστιν ἀκρόασις φιλοσόφου;

Through inference and direct censure, Epictetus seeks to expose the superficial nature of the envisaged speaker’s speech. He asserts that no introspection or anxiousness (ἀγωνιάω) is elicited from the audience regarding their behavior (ποιέω), only amusement at considering the figures and events that happened to be mentioned in the talk. Like with Arius Didymus above, Epictetus therefore expects that a person will not just seek to understand the theoretical points that they have encountered when they listened to an explication of philosophical themes, but they will utilize them to impact their life, here expressed through the language of the individual turning his attention onto himself (περὶ αὑτοῦ ἠγωνίασεν ἢ ἐπεστράφη). Given such qualities, it should not be surprising that Epictetus frequently calls the legitimacy of this hypothetical speaker’s philosophical status into question. For example, in response to the speaker’s professed intention to obtain a large audience, Epictetus mockingly replies: “Here is the language of a philosopher! Behold the frame of mind of a man who wants to benefit his fellow humankind!” ἰδοὺ φωναὶ φιλοσόφου, ἰδοὺ διάθεσις ὠφελήσοντος ἀνθρώπους, and “who ever heard Socrates say, ‘I know something and will teach it’? But instead he used to send people to different instructors,” διὰ τοῦτο τίς ἤκουσέ ποτε Σωκράτους λέγοντος ὅτι ‘οἶδά τι καὶ διδάσκω’; ἀλλὰ ἄλλον ἀλλαχοῦ ἔπεμπεν.⁶⁴ In addition, Epictetus castigates the speaker’s intention of seeking to entertain an audience with philosophy, by saying: “Was this what Socrates used to do, or Zeno, or Cleathes?,” τοῦτο Σωκράτης ἐποίει, τοῦτο Ζήνων, τοῦτο Κλεάνθης.⁶⁵ The mentioning of Zeno and Cleanthes gives this critique a decidedly Stoic point of reference and indicates that the lecturer might profess allegiance to the school. Of further interest is that Epictetus portrays an audience member praising the speaker by saying: “This man writes with more artistic style and in a more finessed manner than Dio’s,” οὗτος ὁ ἄνθρωπος πάνυ τεχνικώτατα γράφει, Δίωνος πολὺ κάλλιον, and later the lecturer himself proudly notes the size of his audience by exclaiming: “Dio never had so great an audience,” Δίωνος οὐδέποτ᾽ ἤκουσαν τοσοῦτοι.⁶⁶

The Dio who produces skillful writings, and who attracts a large audience is doubtless none other than Dio Chrysostom, Epictetus’ contemporary, who combined eloquent oratory with philosophical content that was largely drawn from the Stoic-Cynic tradition. Given that Dio is (apart from individuals who are cited as historical exempla) the only person who is named within the critique, and the audience and hypothetical speaker are presented as assessing the standards of public declamations and writing style against his example, if this discourse does not intend to directly attack Dio, it certainly includes him within its ambit. This means that the person who it was noted at the start of this chapter voices his irritation at individuals who falsely lay claim to being philosophers, here is cited by Epictetus as being a representative of this very phenomenon.

Although it is not my intention to comment upon whether Epictetus’ portrayal of the philosophical depth and purpose of Dio’s speeches and writings are warranted, it should be noted that with Dio having begun his career as a sophist and then apparently having a dramatic conversion to philosophy,⁶⁷ this made him a sort of hybrid figure whose identity was, and indeed is, notoriously hard to define.⁶⁸ Dio’s frequent critiques of inadequate philosophers (which will be reflected upon below again in more detail) and his reflection upon the criteria through which they might be exposed probably disclose Dio’s sensitivity about himself being subject to the type of criticism that Epictetus raises in this passage.⁶⁹ This discourse, therefore, has salience both for apprehending the moral dimension of ancient philosophical identity, and also, as per my argument above, in highlighting its often fluid and contested nature.

In conclusion, from the passages that are assembled above, the expectation of suitably moral behavior from adherents of philosophy is hopefully evident, yet despite the injunctions against inappropriate conduct and charges against falsely called philosophers that sound from ancient texts, we should be cautious in understanding how deviation from a philosophical school’s teaching would, in reality, determine a person’s ability to associate themselves with it. All schools acknowledged that their adherents would have to strive to make moral progress, and (as will be explored in more detail in chapter 2) this stance is particularly prominent in Stoicism: while perfection in disposition and conduct was the prescriptive ideal, they conceded that such an objective was out of reach of many, if not all, people. True virtue was instead believed by the Stoics to alone belong to the sage, a rare and perhaps nonexistent figure, with most of humanity being fortunate if they could make some measure of moral progress. As Epictetus plainly states: “So is it possible to be entirely free from fault? No, that is not possible; but it is possible to strive persistently to not commit faults,” τί οὖν; δυνατὸν ἀναμάρτητον ἤδη εἶναι; ἀμήχανον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐκεῖνο δυνατὸν πρὸς τὸ μὴ ἁμαρτάνειν τετάσθαι διηνεκῶ.⁷⁰ Meanwhile the academic philosopher Cicero similarly articulates: “Now, the men we live with are not perfect and ideally wise, but men who do very well, if there be found in them but the semblance of virtue,” Quoniam autem vivitur non cum perfectis hominibus planeque sapientibus, sed cum iis, in quibus praeclare agitur si sunt simulacra virtutis.⁷¹

It is, therefore, likely that only the most egregious or unashamed vicious behavior would lead to questions being raised over the legitimacy of a person’s claimed affiliation with a school. In this regard we might commend in passing Philostratus’ gracious comments regarding the Stoic Euphrates, who momentarily lost his temper, and that this should not effecting the renown in which he should be held.⁷² Furthermore, although it was noted earlier that Epictetus asserts that because of their misplaced desire for pleasure that most of his students are the devotees of the rival philosophical system of Epicureanism, he raises this not as a reason for them to conclude their studies, but to rather spur them to rededicate themselves to Stoicism.⁷³ Of further interest, it can be observed that while in several passages Marcus Aurelius associates himself with the study of philosophy,⁷⁴ he also discloses that he is free from the conceit that he has succeeded in living as a philosopher should.⁷⁵ Correct praxis is, therefore, a vital, although perhaps subjective, criterion through which the legitimacy of a person’s adherence to a philosophical school would be determined.

Regarding people who vocationally instructed others in philosophy, it appears, however, that there was a more pressing concern to ascertain whether their teaching was primarily intending to meet their audience’s desire for entertainment, or to engender their moral introspection and self-improvement. The latter demands would, as per Epictetus’ critique of the hypothetical speaker that was noted above, likely be established on the basis of the tone of the lecture’s discussions, the presence of overt exhortations in their speeches for their audience to seek the moral reform of their lives, and in assessing the lasting effects that exposure to their remarks had upon their listeners’ behavior. Furthermore, as it will be further clarified when I explore Epictetus’ interaction with laypeople, when trying to ascertain if an individual was suited to begin receiving philosophical instruction and to commence their efforts to be impacted by it, then the prospective student’s willingness and capacity to align their behavior with philosophical principles becomes a key criterion against which their inclusion or exclusion into philosophical circles would be evaluated.

Knowledge and Philosophical Identity

Although they were formulated to enable the ethical improvement of people, with the notable exception of Cynicism,⁷⁶ ancient philosophies were intellectually rigorous and demanding systems of thought. In ancient culture, and especially within the Greek East, where education was held in high regard, obtaining mastery over a philosophical school’s doctrines and texts and especially receiving formal instruction from one of its professional exponents were often held to be the acme of a person’s educational career.⁷⁷ The means of gaining a high level of education in antiquity, however, extended beyond philosophy, and schools of thought that were devoted to explore subjects such as medicine and rhetoric also vied to attract the desirant erudite.⁷⁸ The sense of distinction that people could feel after completing such a high level of training in one of these schools has often been noted by ancient writers and scholars,⁷⁹ as is the small number of individuals whose circumstances could permit them to undertake such an extended period of contemplation.⁸⁰ The scenario that the rhetorician Dionysius of Halicarnassus (ca. 60–7 BCE) documents, when a man who was unknown to him ventured to outline his opinion regarding a topic in rhetoric in his presence, is also, I suggest, particularly revealing:

Now initially I supposed that the person who had ventured to make this statement was an ordinary layperson, and I advised you not to pay attention to every paradox you heard.⁸¹

κατ᾿ ἀρχὰς μὲν οὖν ὑπελάμβανον τῶν πολλῶν τινα εἶναι τὸν ταῦτ᾿ ἐπιχειρήσαντα λέγειν, καὶ παρῄνουν σοι μὴ πᾶσι τοῖς παραδόξοις προσέχειν.

After first advising his students to largely ignore the visitor, upon apprehending that this man is not actually one “of the many” (τῶν πολλῶν), but that he has received enough education to allow him to discourse knowledgably on this subject, Dionysius gives way to listen to him and intimates that his students can do likewise. Therefore, despite this visitor having no personal connections with Dionysius or his circle of students, once known, his training enabled him to gain a positive reception from this group.

Similarly demonstrating how knowledge can be used to establish or preclude inclusion into intellectual circles, Philostratus records that Polemo (the third head of the Platonic school) likewise had a concern to exclude nonexpert opinion from being voiced within his school,⁸² while Lucian describes the situation of a philosopher who bore jealously/ill-will (φθονέω) when someone else became a philosopher because he knew he would have to treat him as his equal (ἴσος) in future disputations. Plutarch meanwhile records that because the associates of the poet Aratus judged that he was inexperienced (ἀπειρία) in philosophical study, they tried to prevent him from publicly dialoguing with others on philosophical themes.⁸³

With regards to philosophy and its scholarly expectations, depending upon the particular school of affiliation, over the course of several years⁸⁴ a student might have to gain familiarity and openly discourse on a wide range of topics as diverse as epistemology, cosmology, mathematics, and the correct manner of parsing of syllogisms and paradoxes, and show their comprehension of an ever-expanding corpus of texts and commentaries.⁸⁵ Memorably, regarding the extended duration of study that philosophy’s pupils are expected to undertake, Lucian’s Hermotimus depicts with satirical license one student of Stoicism bemoaning that after twenty years of learning he has only just started traversing the long, infrequently traveled, and sweat-inducing road, and exclaiming that:

philosophy is unattainable even over a long period, unless you are very much awake all the time and keep a stern glaring eye on her. The venture is for no mere trifle—whether to perish miserably in the vulgar rabble of the common herd or to find happiness through philosophy.⁸⁶

φιλοσοφία δὲ καὶ μακρῷ τῷ χρόνῳ ἀνέφικτος, ἢν μὴ πάνυ τις ἐγρηγορότως ἀτενὲς ἀεὶ καὶ γοργὸν ἀποβλέπῃ ἐς αὐτήν, καὶ τὸ κινδύνευμα οὐ περὶ μικρῶν, ἢ ἄθλιον εἶναι ἐν τῷ πολλῷ τῶν ἰδιωτῶν συρφετῷ παραπολόμενον ἢ εὐδαιμονῆσαι φιλοσοφήσαντα.

Meanwhile, the first to second century CE Pythagorean and possibly Stoic-influenced⁸⁷ allegorical work known as the Tablet of Cebes compares philosophical instruction to be like an arduous physical journey. It portrays the road to true education as being a rocky, trackless wasteland that forces its travelers to climb up a high hill that has a narrow ascent and that features dangerously deep precipices on either side.⁸⁸ Eventually, the author claims, only if the two sisters named “self-control” and “perseverance” come down and lift the traveler up can those on the journey hope to reach their desired destination.⁸⁹

The speech of philosophical students was also expected to be carefully honed, with, as Allen Hilton has reflected,⁹⁰ the reputed proper use of diction and pronunciation being one of the first features that was taken to signify whether a person was educated or not. Hilton, for example, highlights that the poet Ausonius refers to “a scholar’s accent” (doctis accentibus),⁹¹ and that Sextus Empiricus remarks on the characteristic difference in speech that differentiates the learned (πιλολόγοι) and laypeople (ιδιῶται).⁹² It might be further added that Aupelius valuably reflects upon the type of speech that was expected to emanate from a philosopher’s lips, stating: “the philosopher’s reasoning and speaking are to be continuous in time, solemn to the ear, profitable to the mind, and polyphonous in tone” (sed enim philosophi ratio et oratio tempore iugis est et auditu uenerabilis et intellectu utilis et modo omnicana).⁹³ In addition, the expectation that a philosopher will have been coached to speak in a well-ordered way (εὐφυής), and to clearly (καθαρός) read in the style of the philosopher(s) they are reading or discussing is also highlighted by Epictetus and Seneca.⁹⁴

Given such a demanding series of skills and intellectual requirements, it is no wonder that philosophy’s students are frequently portrayed in classical literature as remaining awake throughout the night so they can devote themselves to their studies,⁹⁵ and depicted as trembling when they have to speak in front of their fellow students.⁹⁶ Epictetus, for example, imagines one of his students sitting in a lecture and reflecting: “What are my people at home saying about me? Right now they are thinking that I am advancing in my studies, and they are saying ‘He will come back knowing everything,’” τί λέγουσιν οἱ ἐκεῖ ἄνθρωποι περὶ ἐμοῦ; νῦν οἴονταί με προκόπτειν καὶ λέγουσιν ὅτι῾ήξει ἐκεῖνος πάντα εἰδώς.⁹⁷ In this regard, it can be observed that the complexity of Stoicism in particular is remarked upon by individuals from within as well as from outside of the school (and is reflected upon by modern scholars too⁹⁸). Epictetus himself notes the difficulties that people can have in understanding philosophical thought⁹⁹; for example, regarding discussing philosophical themes, he states: “These are technical terms, which are tiresome for the non-philosopher and difficult for them to comprehend, and yet for our part we are unable to dispense with them,” ῥήματα τεχνικὰ καὶ διὰ τοῦτο τοῖς ἰδιώταις φορτικὰ καὶ δυσπαρακολούθητα, ὧν ἡμεῖς ἀποστῆναι οὐ δυνάμεθα, and, so, Epictetus continues to reflect, they are unable to move him.¹⁰⁰ He elsewhere notes that if an individual in his school reveals insufficient comprehension, then they risk exposing themselves to ridicule from their fellow students; refers to the study of philosophy as being serious/demanding work (συσπουδάζω); and notably, after having apprehended what his tuition under Epictetus will entail, one of his pupils is recorded as exclaiming: “But this requires long preparation, and much effort and study.” To which the philosopher pointedly replies: “So what? Do you believe that the greatest of arts can be acquired with little study?” ἀλλὰ πολλῆς ἔχει χρείαν παρασκευῆς καὶ πόνου πολλοῦ καὶ μαθημάτων . . . τί οὖν; ἐλπίζεις ὅτι τὴν μεγίστην τέχνην ἀπὸ ὀλίγων ἔστιν ἀναλαβεῖν.¹⁰¹ Such is the effort that Epictetus is trying to convey to this pupil that he should expend the noun he uses which is rendered as “much effort,” πόνος, usually designates hard, painful labor, and even physical distress. Meanwhile, in another passage Epictetus chides a person who has evidently only engaged in the self-study of philosophy, and emphasizes to him that extended periods of learning under a vocational teacher, and a deep rather than a casual knowledge of a school’s texts and tenets are required before he can legitimately stake his claim to be a philosopher:

What did you do at school then, what did you hear? What did you learn? Why do you mark yourself down as being a philosopher when you might have recorded the reality, saying, “I have studied a few introductory works and have read a bit of Chrysippus, but I have never even approached the door of a philosopher.”¹⁰²

τί οὖν ἐν τῇ σχολῇ ἐποίεις, τί ἤκουες, τί ἐμάνθανες; τί σαυτὸν φιλόσοφον ἐπέγραφες ἐξὸν τὰ ὄντα ἐπιγράφειν; ὅτι ‘εἰσαγωγὰς ἔπραξάς τινας καὶ Χρυσίππεια ἀνέγνων, φιλοσόφου δ᾽ οὐδὲ θύραν παρῆλθον.

The verb above, ἐπιγράφω, “putting down,” is commonly used in the sense of someone inscribing something, usually on stone, or, less commonly, to publicly attach one’s name to something. It is clear, therefore, that Epictetus is intending to portray this person who has only a passing interest with philosophy, as attempting to formally have their identity as a philosopher be recognized, something that Epictetus strongly contests. Intending to lead someone to reach a similar conclusion, Dio Chrysostom asks an unnamed dialogue partner what he would think of an individual who professes to be a huntsman, but who has no equipment that would allow him to engage in the activity; or a musician who neglects to ever pick up an instrument; or an astronomer who exchanges time contemplating the science to pursue gambling? When Dio’s imagined interlocutor replies that he would not believe these people to be genuine practitioners of their proclaimed arts/area of expertise, Dio similarly argues that if a person were to claim that they are a philosopher a thousand times, even in front of a public assembly or kings, it is of no matter, for:

there are certain words which one who goes in for philosophy must hear, and studies which he must pursue, and a regimen to which he must adhere, and, in a word, one kind of life belongs to the philosopher and another to the majority of mankind.¹⁰³

Ἀλλὰ δὴ καὶ λόγοι τινές εἰσιν ὧν δεῖ τὸν φιλοσοφοῦντα ἀκούειν, καὶ μαθήματα ἃ δεῖ μανθάνειν, καὶ δίαιτα ἣν δεῖ διαιτᾶσθαι, καὶ καθόλου βίος ἄλλος μὲν τοῦ φιλοσοφοῦντος.

Through the above statement and the analogies he provides, Dio intends to argue that just as being a hunter, musician, or astronomer requires dedication and the use of certain resources, so does being a philosopher: in this case, firstly having access to philosophical teaching and literature, and devoting enough attention to them until its idioms and technicalities become known, and, secondly, adopting a pattern of behavior that is distinct from the bulk of humanity’s. Dio’s stance that the philosopher should have a different type of life (βίος) to the layperson’s is further seen from the phrase which is translated above as “regimen to which he must adhere,” δίαιτα ἣν δεῖ διαιτᾶσθαι. When δίαιτα is used in the middle voice, as it is here, it almost always refers to a person having a mode of life in which there are continually operative rules that guide their behavior, not just that they happen to have a particular routine.¹⁰⁴ In this passage there is, therefore, the two requisite criteria for philosophical identity that have been outlined in this chapter being openly reflected upon.

It is perhaps worthwhile at this point to note that the listing of the ethical and intellectual demands for philosophers together is, to my knowledge, expressly commented upon in at least three other classical authors’ writings, which, due to space constraints and a fear of laboring what is hopefully an already substantiated point, I will not detail in depth. The first example comes from Apuleius (ca. 124–170 CE), who expresses a wish (that was referenced near the start of this chapter) that an edict regarding the identity of philosophers would be issued so that the (1) inexperienced (imperitus) (2) and/or base (sordidus) claimants of the title would be exposed for punishment.¹⁰⁵ Alcinous’ (ca. second century CE) stipulation that philosophy’s students should show a capacity for intellectual endeavor and also be of virtuous disposition provides us with a second relevant text.¹⁰⁶ Finally, for our interest is Lucian’s (125–180 CE) portrayal of the competition for the chair of Peripatetic philosophy in Athens during the reign of Marcus Aurelius, where, firstly, the candidates’ doctrinal familiarity and, secondly, their actions are portrayed as being held up against their school’s teachings.¹⁰⁷ These passages hopefully show that the criteria for philosophical inclusion that have been explored in this chapter are not just evident with hindsight, but were recognized and utilized by people at the time.

Finally, it is worthwhile to note that during the course of this discussion two conclusions have been reached whose ability to sit alongside each other might require some explanation. On the one hand, it has been argued that during the time of the Roman Empire philosophical identity was imprecise and flexible, yet, contrastingly, that obtaining it necessitated that significant and robust criteria should be met. In order to ascertain how this dynamic worked, I suggest that we might consider two types of individuals who could have tried to gain inclusion into philosophical circles. Firstly, if evaluating a person who has an apparent deficiency in their intellectual capacity or moral character, then the criteria by which philosophical communities define themselves would appear to be solid and well defined, indeed almost able to be perfunctorily applied. Secondly, should another candidate for affiliation but whose attributes appear ambiguous, then it is found that the means of determining their inclusion or exclusion within a school appear to lose their power of precision, and the issue suddenly becomes a matter of subjective interpretation. When placed within this context, philosophical identity during the time of the late Roman Republic and Empire should not, therefore, be thought to be nebulous, but it apprehended that when effort is made to plot its boundary lines with exactitude, then they suddenly seem to lose their clarity.

In this regard, it might be usefully highlighted that in her study of Libanius’ (314–394 CE) school of rhetoric, Raffaella Cribiore draws upon the work of the classicist Fritz Pedersen, which explores Imperial-era attitudes toward professional qualifications, especially for political and military posts, and wherein Pedersen argues that the evaluation of potential candidates was largely carried out in an informal and person-person basis.¹⁰⁸ Drawing upon insights from Fritz’s work and the extant records of Libanius’ school, Cribiore argues:

modern concepts of competence do not apply to the ancient world, and that considerations of training and efficiency emerge only sporadically and unsystematically . . . testing [in the schools] was largely informal and thus escapes sure detection . . . [there is a] lack of formal examinations and the seeming absence of precise and objective criteria of evaluation in ancient [rhetorical] education.¹⁰⁹

Such a situation should, I propose, be understood by scholars to also characterize the ancient evaluation of philosophical identity.

Philosophical Outsiders

It can be observed that the lengthy process of study that philosophy required and the change in attitudes/worldview that it could provoke in its adherents would often instill a sense of affinity between respective schools’ pupils.¹¹⁰ For example, Dio Chrysostom reflects that philosophers believe themselves to be superior (δίαφέρω) in morals to those around them, while Lucian can portray a philosopher (of seemingly Stoic allegiance) promising a prospective student that philosophy could make him one citizen (πολίτης) of many who lived in a different and higher state.¹¹¹ Appealing to an equally strong concept, Plutarch asserts that because of their similar training in philosophy, even people who live centuries apart can display a similarity in outlook and behavior that bespeaks of a shared kinship, while, expressing a similar outlook, Apuleius can refer to the “Platonica familia.”¹¹² Both Plutarch’s and Apuleius’ remarks align with research which has posited that despite the disparate location of Platonic adherents across the Roman Empire, they existed in a “textual community,” where their allegiance to Platonic texts and practice of similar intellectual pursuits provided them with a shared identity.¹¹³ In addition, it might be noted that although it has not been widely deliberated in scholarly discussions, there is evidence that some schools’ students (including the Stoics’) might have adopted a shared dress code.¹¹⁴

The feeling of connection to fellow adherents and the exacting scholastic demands of philosophical study naturally created a divide between individuals who were and were not familiar with deep philosophical thought. A frequent way in antiquity to refer to people who were not philosophers was to employ the word ἰδιώτης. Iδιώτης has two primary meanings: firstly, a private as opposed to a political person, and, secondly, someone who lacks familiarity or skill in a certain activity or field of expertise.

Regarding the first use, ἰδιώτης is frequently utilized in ancient literature to designate someone who does not hold political office. When used in this sense, ἰδιώτης is obviously being employed in a way that places it outside of the concerns of this book. It should, however, be noted that while ἰδιώτης might be used to signal a person’s lesser status in comparison with an individual who holds political office, scholars have noted that it does not often appear to carry derogatory connotations.¹¹⁵

With regards to its second meaning, the ignorance or inabilities of ἰδιῶται in relation to, for example, the skills of military officers, physicians, orators, craftsmen, sophists, and philosophers is also frequently described in classical literature.¹¹⁶ When used in this way ἰδιώτης can again sometimes seem to lack derogatory intention, for example when it is employed to refer to people who were not part of early Christian circles.¹¹⁷ More often than not, however, when ἰδιώτης is used in ancient literature to negate someone’s skill, experience, or knowledge, then demeaning descriptions of their capabilities or intelligence are attendant,¹¹⁸ and ἰδιῶταί are referenced in order to set up a contrast with and amplify the talents of the skilled or cultured.¹¹⁹

As it was noted in the Introduction, aside from ἰδιῶται, words that relate to crowds, the masses, or humanity in general (such as δήμῳ, the people of a country/the general masses; ὄχλος, crowd/throng; οἱ πολλοί, the many) are also frequently used by classical authors as a way to describe people who lack philosophical education or awareness.¹²⁰ Regarding Latin, the Greek word ἰδιώτης was transliterated into the language as idiota, and was commonly used to designate an individual who was ignorant of a particular area of study, whether that be science, philosophy rhetoric, etc.¹²¹ The language of crowds or the commonality of humanity could also be appealed to by Latin writers to refer to generally (and especially philosophically) uneducated people.¹²²

Turning now to explore Epictetus’ portrayal of laypeople, where it will be seen that many of the words and concepts that have been earlier looked at are employed, we can note that even a quick perusal of his discussions discloses that he holds there is a marked difference between the lay majority and the few philosophically minded members of society, so, for example, he clearly opines at one stage:

only a small number of us [incline] towards the divine and the blessed. And since every person must by necessity deal with each matter in accordance with the belief that they hold regarding it, the few of us who think that they are born for fidelity, self-respect, and confidence in their use of impressions, will entertain no abject or ignoble thought about themselves, while the majority of people will think the opposite.¹²³

ὀλίγοι δέ τινες ἐπὶ τὴν θείαν καὶ μακαρίαν. ἐπειδὴ τοίνυν ἀνάγκη πάνθ᾽ ὁντινοῦν οὕτως ἑκάστῳ χρῆσθαι ὡς ἂν περὶ αὐτοῦ ὑπολάβῃ, ἐκεῖνοι μὲν οἱ ὀλίγοι, ὅσοι πρὸς πίστιν οἴονται γεγονέναι καὶ πρὸς αἰδῶ καὶ πρὸς ἀσφάλειαν τῆς χρήσεως τῶν φαντασιῶν, οὐδὲν ταπεινὸν οὐδ᾽ ἀγεννὲς ἐνθυμοῦνται περὶ αὑτῶν, οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ τἀναντία.

Here the few (ὀλίγοι), namely the philosophers, are openly contrasted against the multitude (πολλοὶ)—the nonphilosophers. Utilizing the same language, Epictetus elsewhere compares philosophers to be like a small (ὀλίγοι) number of people who attend a cattle market to observe and reflect upon the procedures that govern its operation, but who find themselves being laughed at by the bemused multitude (πολλοὶ):

Only a few people come with the purpose of looking at the fair, and observe how it is organized, who set it up and for what purpose. . . . Few are those who attend the fair because they enjoy looking on considering it . . . and what is the result? They are mocked by the multitude.¹²⁴

ὀλίγοι δέ τινές εἰσιν οἱ κατὰ θέαν ἐρχόμενοι τῆς πανηγύρεως, πῶς τοῦτο γίνεται καὶ διὰ τί καὶ τίνες οἱ τιθέντες τὴν πανήγυριν καὶ ἐπὶ τίνι . . . ὀλίγοι δ᾽ εἰσὶν οἱ πανηγυρίζοντες ἄνθρωποι φιλοθεάμονες . . . τί οὖν; καταγελῶνται ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν.

Often though Epictetus’ estimation of the narrow constitution of philosophically observant/aware members of humanity is relayed through his employment of analogies, such as his appeal for his listeners to consider philosophers to be like the narrow line of purple is in a senatorial toga (the latus clavus) in comparison to the color white which that chiefly constitutes the garment, and that he depicts as representing the nonphilosophically minded majority of society.¹²⁵

Although Epictetus cautions that hostility should never be directed toward laypeople as their vices are the result of ignorance,¹²⁶ he consistently uses evocative language to describe them, such as referring to them as being confused, ignorant, wretched, miserable, children, slaves and fools, and deluded.¹²⁷ He also consistently presents laypeople as being the antithesis of the philosopher,¹²⁸ candidly stating, for example, to his pupils: “you must assume either the stance of a philosopher or that of a layperson,” τοῦτ᾽ ἔστι φιλοσόφου στάσιν ἔχειν ἢ ἰδιώτου.¹²⁹ An important point to highlight here is that his advocacy for his students to assume the same attitude (στάσις, standing state) of either a philosopher or a layperson is framed around moral rather than intellectual attributes, specifically whether his students’ ruling faculties (ἡγεμονικόι) and desires are for the things that are inside of them/concerning them (περί), rather than outside (ἔξω), that is, to be focused upon internal attributes rather than external circumstances or appearances. As our preceding discussion would suggest, here it is clearly seen that in Epictetus’ estimation being a layperson is not solely based upon whether the individual in view is ignorant of philosophy’s doctrines, but also if they neglect to let these principles impact their life.¹³⁰ Similarly, it can be observed that he considers the status of being educated, παιδευομένοις, to include a person’s successful implementation of philosophical teachings into their daily life, as he defines “to be properly educated,” ὄντι παιδευομένοις, to be marked by an individual’s possession of “tranquility, fearlessness, freedom,” ἀταραξία, ἀφοβία, ἐλευθερία.¹³¹ If readers miss this point, however, they might conclude that Epictetus makes perplexing, perhaps even contradictory, statements, such as that a person who has learned about syllogisms and eythmemes, but who is conceited/puffed up, χαυνόω, is uneducated, ἀπαίδευτος.¹³² This position can unfortunately sometimes be obscured in commonly utilized translations. For example, in Diss. II.1.2 there is no contextual reason for rendering ἰδιώτης as “illiterate” as Hard does,¹³³ especially since ἰδιώτης is not synonymous with the word αγράμματος that normally carries this meaning.¹³⁴ When we are attuned to Epictetus’ perspective that philosophical education incorporates both intellectual and moral criteria, we realize that the ἰδιώτης in this passage in fact might just as easily be a highly schooled individual, but one who does not understand how, or who refuses to let their actions accord with the philosophical principles they have learned.

Returning to consider the broader point about Epictetus’ portrayal of laypeople, it can be noted that in another passage he can present a firm distinction as existing between them and philosophers, for instance by averring:

It is proper that for laypeople to inquire of you philosophers, just as people who come to a strange city do of the citizens who are acquainted with the area, to ask you what is the best thing in the world, so when we have heard what it is we may seek it out and look at it, as visitors to cities do.¹³⁵

ἄξιον, ἔφη, τοὺς ἰδιώτας ἡμᾶς παρ᾽ ὑμῶν τῶν φιλοσόφων πυνθάνεσθαι, καθάπερ τοὺς εἰς ξένην πόλιν ἐλθόντας παρὰ τῶν πολιτῶν καὶ εἰδότων, τί κράτιστόν ἐστιν ἐν κόσμῳ, ἵνα καὶ αὐτοὶ ἱστορήσαντες μετίωμεν, ὡς ἐκεῖνοι τὰ ἐν ταῖς πόλεσι, καὶ θεώμεθα.

In the above passage, philosophers are again pictured as being individuals who look and evaluate the world in a way that differentiates them from the nonphilosopher, a theme that Epictetus reprises in another discourse in which he labels the masses as being deluded (τὸ δ᾽ ἐξαπατῶν τοὺς πολλοὺς τοῦτ᾽ ἔστιν) and, elsewhere, when he reflects that they view philosophy and its paradoxes in a similar light to how an individual who has no medical knowledge might bemusedly look upon a physician who attempts to cure someone’s blindness by poking a lancet in their eye.¹³⁶ In this regard, Epictetus elsewhere reflects upon the mutual confusion (φύρω) that can arise between philosophers and laypeople (ἰδιῶται) if they enter into dialogue with each other, with, he suggests, the nonphilosopher finding philosophical concepts to be obscure (δυσπαρακολούθητος) and to be vulgar/repulsive (φορτικός), while the philosopher is apt to revile (λοιδορέω) and openly laugh (καταγελάω) at their conversation partner and exclaim: “he is a layperson; there is no making anything of him,” ‘ἰδιώτης ἐστίν: οὐκ ἔστιν αὐτῷ χρήσασθαι.¹³⁷ Bearing this context in mind, it can surely be understood why Epictetus repeatedly feels the need to caution his students against entering into discussions on philosophical topics with laypeople,¹³⁸ and at one point argues that if they recognize a person cannot understand or won’t accept philosophical truths, then they should hold their silence rather than announcing their views and prompting animus to occur. He similarly advises that they should clap along with laypeople as they enjoy their festivals instead of attempting to prompt a shift in their perception of the world.¹³⁹ Epictetus even goes so far, as the following chapter will explore in more depth, to advise his students to limit their contact with nonphilosophically informed individuals, for example stating: “I would advise you to use discretion when involving yourselves with non-philosophers,” συμβουλεύω ὑμῖν εὐλαβῶς τοῖς ἰδιώταις συγκαταβαίνειν,¹⁴⁰ and “avoid parties that are hosted by non-philosophers, but if you do have occasion to go, be sure that you don’t slip back into a non-philosopher’s frame of mind,” ἑστιάσεις τὰς ἔξω καὶ ἰδιωτικὰς διακρούου: ἐὰν δέ ποτε γίνηται καιρός, ἐντετάσθω σοι ἡ προσοχή, μήποτε ἄρα ὑπορρυῇς εἰς ἰδιωτισμόν.¹⁴¹

Notably, one of Epictetus’ students is also depicted as admitting that he is reluctant to conform to the behavior that Epictetus expects from him because of the opposition that this could arouse in members of the public (as later Marcus Aurelius will also reflect upon¹⁴²), arguing:

Yes, but if I should place the good here, amongst things that lie within the sphere of choice, everyone will mock me. Some grey-haired old man with his fingers covered with gold rings will come up and shake his head, saying: “Listen to me, child, yes you should practice philosophy, but do not get carried away. This is ridiculous. You learn syllogisms from the philosophers, but you know better than they how you should act in life.”¹⁴³

ναί: ἀλλ᾽ ἂν ἐνταῦθά που θῶ τὸ ἀγαθόν, ἐν τοῖς προαιρετικοῖς, πάντες μου καταγελάσονται.ἥξει τις γέρων πολιὸς χρυσοῦς δακτυλίους ἔχων πολλούς, εἶτα ἐπισείσας τὴν κεφαλὴν ἐρεῖ “ἄκουσόν μου, τέκνον: δεῖ μὲν καὶ φιλοσοφεῖν, δεῖ δὲ καὶ ἐγκέφαλον ἔχειν: ταῦτα μωρά ἐστιν. σὺ παρὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων μανθάνεις συλλογισμόν, τί δέ σοι ποιητέον ἐστίν, σὺ κάλλιον οἶδας ἢ οἱ φιλόσοφοι.

Finally, when his students raise their concern that people who lack a background in philosophy might judge them to be impious, Epictetus responds (in strikingly similar language to others philosophers,¹⁴⁴ including one who was on trial a few decades later in this very circumstance¹⁴⁵) by again contrasting the value of philosophical and lay thought, and arguing for the latter’s redundancy:

So, who is this person who has been given the power to pass such a judgement on you? Does he know what piety or impiety actually is? Has he studied and learned of it? Where? From whom? . . . The truly educated person is under no obligation to pay any heed to the uneducated one when he passes judgement on what is religious or irreligious, just and unjust.¹⁴⁶

οὗτος οὖν τίς ποτε ὁ ἔχων ἐξουσίαν τοῦ ἀποφήνασθαί τι περὶ σοῦ; οἶδεν τί ἐστι τὸ εὐσεβὲς ἢ τὸ ἀσεβές; μεμελέτηκεν αὐτό; μεμάθηκεν; ποῦ; παρὰ τίνι; . . . ὁ δὲ ταῖς ἀληθείαις πεπαιδευμένος ἀνθρώπου ἀπαιδεύτου ἐπιστραφήσεται ἐπικρίνοντός τι περὶ ὁσίου καὶ ἀνοσίου καὶ ἀδίκου καὶ δικαίου.

It is important to highlight that the sense of division between philosophers and laypeople could be apprehended and even reinforced by the latter. Epictetus frequently portrays people (including slaves) who lack philosophical education as laughing (καταγελάω) at philosophers, being repelled if they hear that they are ignorant (ἀγνοέω) of what the good (ἀγαθός) is, openly reviling (λοιδορέω) philosophers—even having the propensity to become violent if they are confronted with philosophical exposition.¹⁴⁷ As he warns one of his students:

If you commit yourself to philosophy, prepare from the beginning to be ridiculed and laughed at, to have many people jeering at you and to hear them say, “Look, he has returned to us a philosopher all of a sudden!”¹⁴⁸

εἰ φιλοσοφίας ἐπιθυμεῖς, παρασκευάζου αὐτόθεν ὡς καταγελασθησόμενος, ὡς καταμωκησομένων σου πολλῶν, ὡς ἐρούντων ὅτι ‘ἄφνω φιλόσοφος ἡμῖν ἐπανελήλυθε’.

Less threateningly, Epictetus also notes that laypeople can conclude that philosophy scholars know nothing and speak gibberish (βαρβαρίζω) and advance nonsense (φλυαρέω), or accuse them of adopting a supercilious (ὀφρύς) look,¹⁴⁹ and state that people say, “Nobody gets any benefit from going to [a philosophy] school,” οὐδεὶς ὠφελεῖται ἐκ τῆς σχολῆς.¹⁵⁰

The opinion that laypeople have toward philosophers is a topic that is also frequently reflected upon by a wide range of classical thinkers, such as by the Epicurean Philodemus, Persius (the satirist and one-time pupil of the Stoic philosopher Cornutus), the rhetorician Quintillian, and numerous other authors, who record that people might consider philosophers to be objectionable, miserable, effeminate, fixated upon boring and pointless speculations, believe that philosophical schools provide no benefit and lead people away from right thinking,¹⁵¹ and, in rather memorable phrasing, hold that each tradition is “dwelling in a separate word-maze of its own construction,” καὶ διαφόρους λόγων λαβυρίνθους ἐπινοήσαντες.¹⁵² Furthermore, laypeople are recorded as believing that many of philosophy’s students “have assurance and a pose and a gait, and a countenance that is filled with arrogance and a disdain which spares nobody,” ἔχοντες θράσος ἔχουσι καὶ σχῆμα καὶ βάδισμα καὶ πρόσωπον ὑπεροψίας καὶ ὀλιγωρίας μεστὸν ἀφειδούσης ἁπάντων.¹⁵³

Because of such derision from certain portions of society, and perhaps especially within a Roman context, Seneca reflects that people are often hesitant to start imitating philosophers in some areas of their life, in case they feel compelled to follow them in everything and end up a fully observant philosopher.¹⁵⁴ This attitude is also documented by Epictetus, and to remarkably involve an individual who apparently did harbor philosophical pretensions:

If you want to know what Romans think of philosophers, just listen to this. Italicus, who was reputed to be amongst the greatest of them as a philosopher, once became angry with his friends in my presence. Claiming that his situation was desperate he proclaimed: “I cannot bear it!” “You are killing me. You will make me just like him”—and he then pointed to me!¹⁵⁵

Πῶς ἔχουσι Ῥωμαῖοι πρὸς φιλοσόφους ἂν θέλῃς γνῶναι, ἄκουσον. Ἰταλικὸς ὁ μάλιστα δοκῶν αὐτῶν φιλόσοφος εἶναι παρόντος ποτέ μου χαλεπήνας τοῖς ἰδίοις, ὡς ἀνήκεστα πάσχων, “Οὐ δύναμαι,” ἔφη, “φέρειν: ἀπόλλυτέ με, ποιήσετέ με τοιοῦτον γενέσθαι,” δείξας ἐμέ.

Such an attitude is also apparent in the frequently documented phenomenon of Roman parents who attempt to prevent their children from either studying, or from becoming overly preoccupied with philosophy.¹⁵⁶

Describing a more combative approach, and in one particularly extended portrayal of a layperson’s views, Seneca describes someone directly challenging the austere moralizing of philosophers by staunchly advocating that better benefits can be obtained through sensual pleasure such as gluttony, drinking, and adopting a lax attitude toward the disposal of money, that is, the inversion of usual philosophical convictions.¹⁵⁷ Meanwhile, in a depiction of lay opinion Persius notes that the schools’ students were widely believed by the public to be fixated upon arcane and useless theories; with him imagining one layperson’s withering response after the details of Epicurean cosmology had just been detailed as being:

“What I know is enough for me. Personally, I have no desire to be like Arcesilas or those troubled Solons with their heads bent, eyes fixed on the ground, while they gnaw their mumbles and rabid silences to themselves and weigh words on their stuck-out lips, repeating the fantasies of some aged invalid: that nothing can come from nothing, that nothing can return to nothing. Is this why you’re so pale? Is this the reason for missing lunch?” These jibes make the rabble laugh, and with wrinkled nose the muscular youths redouble their quivering cackles.¹⁵⁸

“quod sapio, satis est mihi. non ego curo esse quod Arcesilas aerumnosique Solones obstipo capite et Agentes lumine terram, murmura cum secum et rabiosa silentia rodunt atque exporrecto trutinantur verba labello, aegroti veteris meditantes somnia, gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti, hoc est quod palles? cur quis non prandeat hoc est?” his populus ridet, multumque torosa iuventus ingeminat tremulos naso crispante cachinnos.

A similar reaction to the one above, but with the added threat of violence to ensure that the speaker would refrain from continuing to enunciate philosophical thought, is also described by Tacitus when Rufus apparently tried to introduce ideas of cosmopolitanism to Roman soldiers.¹⁵⁹ Worthy of note is also Dio Chrysostom’s comments that the crowds “seize the initiative and abuse and jeer at them [philosophers] as being wretched and foolish, knowing that if they establish them as senseless and mad, they will prove themselves to be self-controlled as intelligent/of sound mind,” οὐκοῦν προκαταλαμβάνουσιν αὐτοὶ λοιδοροῦντες καὶ τωθάζοντες ὡς ἀθλίους καὶ ἀνοήτους, εἰδότες ὅτι, εἰ μὲν τούτους ἀποφανοῦσιν ἄφρονας καὶ μαινομένους, ἅμα καὶ αὑτοὺς ἀποδείξουσι σωφρονοῦντας καὶ νοῦν ἔχοντας.¹⁶⁰ The verb προκαταλαμβάνω holds the sense of seizing, or occupying beforehand, and is usually employed in a military context. The sense in this passage is, therefore, of laypeople who attempt to stake out ground to combat and critique philosophers, before the philosophers have a chance to critique them. This two-way derision between philosophers and laypeople is a dynamic that classical authors could directly reflect upon, such as Sextus Empiricus, who states: “Just as the scholar (ὁ φιλολόγος) is ridiculed by laypeople (οι ιδιώται), so is the layperson (ή ἰδιωτική) ridiculed by scholars (οἱ φιλολόγοι).”¹⁶¹ People who conceived of philosophy and those with an interest in it in the manner that the above sources portray, would doubtless find it a matter of little concern if they found themselves prevented from being able to lay claim to the identity of the philosopher.

Of final interest for us in this section is Lucian’s portrayal of someone asking a student of Stoicism to relay philosophical truths to him, but to request that he do so simply, and by adopting the character of a layperson (ὁποῖος τότε ἦσθα ἰδιώτης, “now do so as a layperson”), for he is an outsider (οὕτως ἀπόκριναι) and so cannot easily comprehend the ideas that the student has been coached in.¹⁶² With the use of the verb ἀποκρίνω (to be set apart), we notably have an example of an ancient source which frames the philosopher/layperson divide explicitly in the language of the insider/outsider.

Philosophers from Other Schools

One topic that has not been touched upon, but which should be mentioned in a discussion of philosophical identity in antiquity is the stance that philosophers took toward people whose allegiances belonged to rival schools of thought, such as Platonic, Peripatetic, Stoic, or Epicurean ones (etc.), and specifically whether they consider such individuals to be genuine philosophers or not. Understanding cross-school opinions of each other is, however, complex for it is rarely a directly addressed topic in ancient texts, and our understanding of respective philosophers’ attitudes toward other schools and their members is largely an inferred one.¹⁶³ Of potential help for this discussion though are studies which highlight that after the decentralization of the schools as institutions in the first century BCE¹⁶⁴ the historical record often reveals individuals who, while assured and ready to defend the veracity and superiority of their chosen school’s viewpoints,¹⁶⁵ are prepared to constructively engage with other philosophies’ ideas and writings.¹⁶⁶

Scholars have frequently observed that this relatively open stance toward other schools’ thought is particularly strongly expressed within the Stoic tradition,¹⁶⁷ and that it can be traced back at least as far as Panaetius’ and his student Posidonius’ (ca. 185–109 BCE/135–51 BCE) apparent respect for and proclivity to cite Platonic and Peripatetic thought.¹⁶⁸

Exploring this issue firstly with reference to Seneca, numerous studies have also recognized the potential that his large volume of writings have for revealing a member of the Stoic school’s attitude to, and possible impact from, other philosophies’ propositions.¹⁶⁹ It is not, however, my intention to opine upon Seneca’s stance regarding other philosophical schools’ thought, which is a debated point and is beyond the scope of this book to address, but to rather highlight that he views them as being a legitimate part of the philosophical community. One helpful indication of his use of other philosophers as dialogue partners that can be profitably drawn attention to is Tuen Tielemans’ catalogue of citations that Seneca makes to philosophers, which reveals (with the exclusion of Socrates) that a substantial 170 out of 277 of them are to non-Stoic thinkers, and that Plato and Epicurus (and to a lesser extent Aristotle) receive especially heavy reference.¹⁷⁰

Given the lack of explicit reflections on the attitude toward other philosophies in our sources, two passages in Seneca’s writings are of particular value. In the first, Ep. 21.9, after quoting Epicurus counselling his student Idomeneus that he should restrain his desires (cupiditates), Seneca remarks that he feels able to appeal to Epicurus’ words because he considers them to be “public property” (publicae sunt).¹⁷¹ Seneca then helpfully proceeds to liken this situation to the liberty he has to vote for a senator’s motion that he agrees with, without this compelling him to vote for a second that he does not.¹⁷² In other words, if approached with discernment and selectivity, Seneca believes that Epicurus’ philosophy can be a resource wherein insight and the useful articulation of truth might be found—or at least in the way that Seneca believes he can constructively frame them.¹⁷³

In the second passage for our interest, Constant. 1.1, Seneca asserts that Stoicism and other philosophies make an equal (tantusdem) contribution to society (societas), but that because of their soft (mollis) nature non-Stoic traditions should be compared to females, while the Stoic school is of recognizably manly (virilis) character.¹⁷⁴ From this passage it is apparent that Seneca differentiates other schools from Stoicism, and likely considers them to be less effective in their philosophizing, but so too is his belief that they are, in theory, engaged in the same enterprise as Stoicism—namely, philosophical deliberation.¹⁷⁵

Turning to Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations, direct reflections on other philosophical schools do not feature within the text, but scholarly interest on whether its contents have been shaped by alternative streams of thought to those of Stoicism have been regularly piqued. The most recent studies that have explored this topic conclude that the influence of other schools upon Marcus’ thinking is largely idiomatic and not substantive in nature.¹⁷⁶ No catalogue of the references he makes to non-Stoic philosophers, to my knowledge, exists, but it can be observed that he positively cites the opinions of Epicurus four times, Heraclitus three, Pythagoras and Plato twice, and the Platonist Phocion and Pre-Socratic Empedocles once.¹⁷⁷ This allows us to suggest that Marcus’ approach toward other philosophies mirrors Seneca’s: both have evidently invested considerable effort to learn about the opinions of other schools, and they consider them to be useful dialogue partners when they deliberate upon philosophical themes, but neither attempts to utilize this interest to try and effect a substantial syncretic or eclectic refashioning of Stoic philosophy.

Regarding Epictetus, compared to Seneca and Marcus there has been less evaluation of his engagement and interaction with different philosophical schools. Deliberation over whether his understanding of theology, psychology, or philosophical contemplation reveals a Platonic imprint can, however, be drawn upon, and where the weight of scholarly opinion rests upon the conclusion that while there is idiomatic influence, Epictetus’ views firmly align with traditional Stoic ones.¹⁷⁸ With regards to direct references that Epictetus makes to other schools, the value of Epicurean and Academic strains of thought are particularly heavily critiqued by him,¹⁷⁹ and his brief mention of Peripatetic and Pyhrronic philosophy is also critical in tone.¹⁸⁰ Stephen Williams has noted Epictetus’ positive assessment of non-Stoic proponents from ten references he makes to Plato (whom it can be observed Epictetus’ teacher Rufus is also recorded as praising¹⁸¹) and five to Xenophon.¹⁸² To this list it can be added that Epictetus cites Pythagoras and the Neopythagorean Apollonius approvingly,¹⁸³ and in chapter 7 of this book the high estimation he has for several Pre-Socratic thinkers will also be outlined. Comparing Epictetus’ interaction with other schools to that of his Stoic counterparts who have been considered above, there is notable congruence in his appreciation of Platonic, Pythagorean, and Pre-Socratic thought, but not Epicurean or Peripatetic philosophy. The differing philosophical preferences that the Stoic thinkers considered above display likely reveals the flexibility they had—which was mentioned at the start of this discussion—to choose what schools or thinkers they could favor to employ as profitable interlocutors in their deliberations.

Although Epictetus does not explicitly expound upon his perception of the identity of non-Stoic philosophers, despite his firm misgivings about Epicurean philosophy that have just been noted, he does refer to a member of the Epicurean school as being a philosopher (φιλόσοφος), and challenges him for (at least in Epictetus’ opinion) not properly adhering to the behavior that his school would expect of him.¹⁸⁴ Elsewhere, Epictetus also asks one of his students whether Plato was a philosopher or Hippocrates a physician, with the anticipated reply being an unhesitating yes.¹⁸⁵ Therefore, along with his practice of portraying philosophy in broad terms rather than within scholastic boundaries,¹⁸⁶ and in keeping with the prevailing expectation of the time that value might be extracted from other schools’ postulations, it does not appear that Epictetus delimits the identity of being a philosopher only to individuals who are associated with the philosophy of the Stoa.

Philosophical Students

Before our discussion of philosophical identity is concluded, consideration of philosophical students, whose status is obviously more ambiguous than that of professional teachers should also be briefly addressed. To my knowledge only Michael Trapp has directly addressed this topic,¹⁸⁷ when he suggests (although without further deliberating upon it) that provided that the schools’ students abided by their philosophy’s ethical standards, they could lay claim to the identity of being philosophers during and after the completion of their philosophical training without much contestation:

The cohorts of pupils they [professional philosophical teachers] send out into the world, moreover, are “fellow professionals” not primarily in the sense that they will themselves claim the status of educators in their own right (though some of course will), but in taking with them a shared dedication to a style of life, and one that claims to provide the governing framework for everything else that they are and do.¹⁸⁸

I suggest that Trapp’s proposal is indeed correct. Certainly, with regards to Epictetus it has been established here that he regularly frames his students as being included within the confines of philosophy vis-à-vis laypeople who are outside of its boundaries.¹⁸⁹ Furthermore, it has been noted that Epictetus’ concern to include students in his school only if they have more than scholastic aims in mind and his frequent advice to them on how they can continue to live according to philosophical principles once their training has ceased certainly implies his expectation that they will have an enduring affiliation with philosophy.¹⁹⁰ On the latter point, he will talk about the moral behavior and philosophical disposition that he expects should mark a person who has come out (ἐκ) of his school.¹⁹¹ Of additional importance, several remarks in the Discourses can be catalogued that reveal Epictetus’ students freely identified themselves as being philosophers, which Epictetus does not protest. For example, they are portrayed as discussing who among them is the best philosopher (τίς ἄριστός ἐστι τῶν φιλοσόφων), and Epictetus can even use their self-identifying as philosophers to spur them to evaluate whether they are truly acting as philosophers should,¹⁹² and he notes their frustration if members of the public do not recognize them to be philosophers.¹⁹³ Finally, relaying his own stance, Epictetus refers to his being in front of his students to be standing in the company of philosophers (φιλόσοφοι) where the easy relaying of truths can be conveyed.¹⁹⁴

It would seem, therefore, that for Epictetus provided that a student retains a depth of knowledge about a philosophy’s teachings and behaves in-line, or at least not in an notably discordant manner with its moral expectations, then he would view them as being on the philosophical side of the philosopher–layperson divide.

Conclusion

In conclusion, with their inability to depend upon institutional or formalized means of verification, the criteria by which philosophers, at least after the rise of Roman power, would usually judge the authenticity of another person’s philosophical status are, firstly, their depth of knowledge of their chosen school’s tenets, and, secondly, their faithfulness in adhering to its ethical demands. There was, however, no agreed-upon schema that a person could employ to reveal if someone else was a philosopher or not; instead, this evaluation would be decided on a person-person basis and would be prone to variance and be vulnerable to contestation.

Furthermore, a firm distinction is found to have been made by philosophers between people who do, and who do not belong within philosophy’s ranks. Some evidence that laypeople could reciprocate by negatively evaluating the characteristics of philosophy, and that they hold philosophers to be engaged in a largely pointless and needlessly austere pursuit has also been found. Finally, it has been revealed that philosophy’s students, and adherents from rival schools appear to have been widely held to be legitimate claimants of a philosophical identity.

NOTES

1. See Papas (2015).

2. With regards to the Romans’ varied, and occasionally hostile, reception of philosophy, see the discussion in Trapp (2007, 226–257; 2014) and Rivière (2017).

3. Scholarly reflection on this area is, of course, substantial, but in particular see the useful discussions in Rawson (1985, 282–297) and MacGillivray (2012). Sedley (2003a, 186) also asserts: “It is difficult to think of a society where members of the upper class were more generally aware of philosophy than seems to have been the case in Imperial Rome.”

4. On philosophical sculpture and art, see Zanker (1995); the touring of philosophical schools, Cicero Fam. 13.1.2, Fin 1.16, Brut. 89.306-91.316, Lucian Menipp. 4-5, cf. Diss. II.14; and on Roman patrons of philosophy, see Damon (1997, 235–252). On the diffusion of philosophy across Roman society, see the important collection of essays in Vesperini (2017).

5. On abridged philosophical texts, consider Thom (2012), MacGillivray (2015), as well as numerous studies of interest in Horster and Reitz (2010). Regarding the popularity of public talks on philosophy, see the extensive and insightful discussions in Maxwell (2006, 11–41) and Wright (2017, 63–115).

6. See Sedley (2003b).

7. That identifying an ancient philosopher should be done on a case-by-case basis, see Curnow (2006, 1), Trapp (2008, 1, 21), Goulet (2013, 13), and the discussion in Lauwers (2015, 183–190).

8. On this, consider the excellent discussion from (Glucker 1978), as well as from Trapp (2014, 45–47). Ahlholm (2017, 7–15) remarks upon the difficulty we have in establishing whether many epigraphs which depict people as having a philosophical identity were intending to portray themselves as being professional philosophers, or, in Ahlhom’s words (2017, 10), rather “intellectual laypeople.” For similar reflections, consider also Dillon (2002, 29, 33), Haake (2008, 151), and Lauwers (2015, 27, 265). See also Cicero Off. 2.5 and Tusc. 1.1 along with the comments of Hine (2015, 15). Barnes (2002, 304) argues that in antiquity the title of philosopher could be used to: “designate non-professionals . . . part-time amateurs, men of diverse talents,” while Goulet (2013, 38) notes that poets, musicians, historians, architects, and even shoemakers and barbers (etc.) could identify themselves as being philosophers. Regarding Stoic philosophy, Rist (1982, 23) claims: “Many Stoics had merely read their Stoicism or talked to Stoicizing individuals, and then claimed to be Stoics or desiderant Stoics.” In this regard, see also Mann’s (2011, 89) insightful comments on the Stoic astronomer Manilius (fl. first century CE).

9. For example, see Lucian Fug. 4.14, Peregr. 24, Pisc. 31; Philostratus VA 2.29, 6.3.

10. Respectively, Or. 70.10, and 49.12, 70.8, cf. Lucian Pisc. 42.

11. Flor. 7.9-10.

12. See Diss. III.24.41 and also IV.8.16-17.

13. Hine (2015).

14. Att. 1.18-31, Acad. 1.10, Fam. 9.17.2, Hine (2015, 19).

15. Hine (2015, 13).

16. On Seneca presenting himself as a Stoic, see Conradie (2010, 103–105), along with Constant. 2.1, and the commentary in Asmis (2015, 224).

17. Hine (2015, 22). See a recent study, Ahlholm (2017), which might cast Hine’s proposal into doubt.

18. Hine (2015, 29).

19. On this topic, see especially the reflections of Hadot (1995), Pavie (2012), and Sharpe (2014); and on this aim in the Stoic tradition, see in particular Sellars (2003). Sellars (2007, 117) also usefully states: “For a Stoic such as Epictetus, it seems that philosophy is not merely a matter of words or arguments, but also a matter of deeds or actions. This suggest a conception of philosophy which is quite different from the implicit conception that seems prevalent today.” Meanwhile, Reydams-Schils (2010, 567) argues: “Presumably Epictetus would measure his own success as a teacher by the actual moral progress of his pupils.”

20. Trapp (2014, 55).

21. E.g. Diss. I.1.25; 8.10-16; 12.17.

22. Epit.11k, trans. Pomeroy (1999, 81, 83).

23. Ep. 53.9, trans. Gummere (1917, 359). See also Ep. 106.12, and Med. 12.9. On the Stoics’ belief in the interconnectedness of contemplation (δόγμα), reason (λογικός), and action (πρακτικός), consider also Diog. Laert. 9.130, along with the comments of Reydams-Schils (2017, 188).

24. Regarding Plato’s reputed effect upon Speusippus see Plut. De frat. Amor 491f-492a; on Diogenes’ effect upon Crates Apul. Flor. 14, and Ep. Diog. Ep. 9; and on Xenocrates’ impact upon Polemo Diss. III.1.4, III.11.30, Seneca Ep. 108.23, Horace Sat. 2.3.253-257, and Diog. Laert. 4.16.

25. On Odysseus holding the Phaeacians spellbound, see Od. 2.333-334.

26. Nigr. 35, trans. Harmon (1913, 135).

27. See also Plutarch’s comments at Max. princ. 776c.

28. Ep. 6.1, trans. Gummere (1917, 25).

29. Ep. 108.1, Ad Marc. 4, 13.

30. The most complete consideration of this topic is still Nock (1933, 164–186). Consider as well more recent discussions in Rousseau (1996, 386–387) and Stowers (2011, 231–232), cf. Sedley (1989).

31. For critiques of philosophers who were interested in money, see for example Plutarch De Tuenda 16 and Galen San. Tu. 16; regarding feasting Att. 2.55.d, 3.103.d, 4.163-164, 13.607; sexual deviance Martial Ep. 7.58, Juvenal Sat. 2.8 13, and Seneca Ep. 123.15.

32. See Ep. 6.6, and Lucian Herm. 21.

33. Ep. 29.5-6.

34. For example, Or. 31.3 “For no-one is a philosopher who belongs among the unjust and wicked” trans. Cohoon and Crosby (1940, 339): οὐ γάρ ἐστιν οὐδεὶς φιλόσοφος τῶν ἀδίκων καὶ πονηρῶν.

35. De Frat. 479E.

36. Respectively Att. 13.8.1,4, and 9.2.1.

37. Att. 9.2.5.

38. The passage that will be mentioned is actually found at Diss. II.19, and not in the first volume of the Discourses as Gellius intimates.

39. Att. I.2.7-8.

40. Lauwers (2015, 35–36).

41. Att. 17.19.

42. Diss. III.16.11.

43. Diss. II.9.17.

44. Diss. III.15.10-12.

45. Diss. III.15.1-6. From this passage, as well as Diss. I.15.7-8, Hock (1992, 139) argues that Epictetus: “discourages other visitors and students from coming back with warnings about the amount of time it takes to become a philosopher.” On the need for prospective philosophers to consider whether they have the stamina to live philosophically, see also Diss. IV.8.34-36 and Ench. 51.

46. For example, see Diss. II.9.13-14 and the study by Hijmans (1959).

47. Diss. II.19.20-21, 23. Glucker (1978, 184) remarks on this passage: “The true test of affiliation to a philosophical αἵρεσις, says Epictetus, is whether or not one follows its moral precepts in everyday behaviour—and such a test is true Stoic practice, which would entitle a man to be properly called a Stoic, is described [in this passage].” See also a similar discussion in Sellars (2007, 116–117).

48. For Epictetus’s perception that Epicureans seek after hedonism, consider, for example, Diss. III.7.2-9.

49. Diss. II.19.28.

50. For example, Diss. I.8.14, where he appeals to his students: “Why will you not perceive and distinguish what are the things that make men philosophers and what belongs to them on other accounts?”: οὐ θέλεις αἰσθάνεσθαι καὶ διακρῖναι κατὰ τί οἱ ἄνθρωποι γίνονται φιλόσοφοι καὶ τίνα ἄλλως αὐτοῖς πάρεστιν. See also Diss. IV.9.8, where Epictetus discusses an individual who has exchanged philosophy for a life of vice. Regarding Diss. III.15.10-13, Sorabji (2007, 143) reflects that for Epictetus: “If you choose to be a philosopher, then you must change your whole way of life and cannot live like a tax gatherer, an orator, or a procurator of Caesar.” Consider also Epictetus’ comments at Fr. 10.

51. Diss. II.13.23, III.5.1-4, 12-17, and 24.78-80.

52. Diss. II.21.10.

53. For example, Diss. I.28.9; II.17.3; III.10.10-19, 22.66; 23.22, 37-38; IV.4.3, 4.42.

54. Diss. I.4.22.

55. See Diss. II.914, III.19.4-6, and the discussion in Hijmans (1959, 64–65).

56. Diss. II.13.23, 25-26. See also Diss. I.1.31.

57. See Att. 9.2.8.

58. Diss. III.2.11. See the wider discussion at Diss. III.2.8-15, and also Epictetus’ comments at Diss. III.22.80 regarding Cynics, who fail to live up to their calling, as well as similar critiques at Dio. Or. 32.9, Lucian Pisc. 48, Apuleius Apol. 39.39, Julian Or. 6.

59. Diss. IV.8.5-6. See also Epictetus’ comments at Diss. IV.8.15-16, Seneca’ at Ep. 76.31-32, and Dio’s comments at Or. 49.11, and 70.6.

60. For example, see Diss. I.2.24.

61. Diss. IV.8.17-20.

62. Diss. III.23.1,19,23, 24 27, 35.

63. Diss. III.23.37-38.

64. Diss. III.23.20, 22.

65. Diss. III.23.32.

66. Diss. III.23.17, 19.

67. Syn. Dio 2-3.

68. For relevant discussions, see Swain (2000 passim), Van Sijl (2010, 183–187), and Lauwers (2015, 46–52).

69. For a similar point being made, consider Lauwers (2015, 49).

70. Diss. IV.12.19, see also the comments on this passage from Brunt (2013, 169). Consider also Epictetus’ comments at Diss. I.2.36-37 and III.7.15 in particular, as well as at I.2.34-37; 8.14, II.8.24-25, III.16.9, and Ench. 12;13; 48.2-3. Long (2002, 109) comments on Epictetus’ “insistence on choosing between the stance of philosopher or layperson . . . but his purpose in doing so is not to select a philosophical elite or to adopt a censorious attitude toward ordinary people. He acknowledges that he himself is no Socrates, and at the end of this chapter [Diss. III.15.8-13].” See also the discussion in Tsalla (2014, 110). From Diss. III.25.1-4, Long (2002, 112) also importantly remarks: “When Epictetus speaks in this vein, he mitigates the philosopher/layperson contrast. He includes himself and everyone else in the intermediate category of progressives or aspirants to the ideal happiness promised by philosophy.”

71. De Off. 1.46, trans. Walsh (2000, 18). See also Ep. 6.1, 116.5, Tranq 7.4, Const. 7.1, Stob. 2.66.14-67,4, Diog. Laert. 7.83, 120, Fin. 1.15, De Off. I.xv-46, and especially Marcus Aurelius’ comments at M. Aur. Med 5.10. On Seneca’s tripartite division of people who are making progress, see Ep. 75.8-18, along with the discussion in Ware (2008, 270) and Brunt (2013, 168). Consider also the fascinating recent study by Jones (2014) that explores Seneca’s portrayal of himself as being a hypocrite, wherein she argues that in their discourse Stoics realize that they are describing philosophical ideals to which they have not yet attained.

72. VA 1.488.

73. See also a similar passage at Diss. II.19.21-28.

74. See my discussion further in this chapter, as well as the discussion in Rist (1982).

75. M. Aur. Med 8.1.

76. On Cynicism’s lack of sophisticated intellectual content, and the debate in antiquity over whether it should be classed as a αἵρεσις or not, see, for example, Diog. Laert. 1.19, 6.103, Julian Or. 6.186B, and the discussion in Branham (2018, 597–602). Regarding Plato’s critique of the Cynics, see Papas (2016, 55–57).

77. For example, see Morgan (1998) and Bénatouïl (2006).

78. On such schools consult, for example, Von Staden (1982) and Cribiore (2007). On the competition between philosophy and rhetoric, as well as the Stoic critique of it, see the useful overview in Reydams-Schils (2015, 126), and on Epictetus’ criticism of rhetoric Diss. III.23.33-38, cf. III.1. On the variance of opinions in antiquity regarding the status of physicians Mattern (2013, 21–27) is useful.

79. On the propensity of education in antiquity to establish a “them and us” divide, see especially the comments from Watts (2006, 1–7) and Johnson (2010, 166–170).

80. See Cicero De. Part. Orat. 90; Tusc. II.1.4; Contra Cels. 1.27.13; Adv Prax 3; Lactantius Div. inst. 3.25. Carrier (2016, 11–31) estimates that 0.4 percent, or 1 in 250 people in the early Roman Empire would have undertaken higher education. Meanwhile, Brookins (2014, 132–146) argues that at least in urban areas 7–10 percent of the population would have undertaken training in a gymnasium, wherein some limited instruction in philosophy would have likely taken place.

81. Amm. 1.1.

82. VS 529, and Herm 21. See also Dio. Or. 32.8 and comments from Eshleman (2012, 44).

83. Arat. 5.2.

84. See the discussion in Dillon (2004, 409) and also comments at Att. 3.102.a and Ep. 108.5.

85. Barnes (2002, 306) briefly avers that a philosopher in antiquity can be recognized from their interest in “logic, physics and ethics and you would recognize them by the congruence between their intellectual interests and those of the Greek masters.” On philosophical schools as institutions, and their relationships with their pupils, see, among others, Dorandi (1999), Snyder (2000, 14–121), and Dillon (2002, 2004). See also the fascinating study from Goulet (2013, 33–39). On the range of topics that would likely be included in a Stoic education (and the division between logic, ethics, and physics), and in particular under Epictetus’ tutelage, see Long (2002, 97–128) and Cooper (2007, 9–15). On the place of logic especially within Epictetus’ school, see Diss. I.7.9-12, II.21.20-21, II.25 (passim). On Epictetus’ students practice of openly deliberating on philosophical themes with each other, see also Diss. II.17.34, and 21.11.

86. Lucian Herm. 1.

87. See Trapp (1997).

88. Tab. Cebes 14.2-3.

89. Tab. Cebes 14.3-5.

90. Hilton (2018, 71).

91. Idyll. 4.18.22.47-50.

92. Math. 233-235.

93. Flor. 13.3.

94. Diss. III.23; III.21. Seneca. Ep. 80.10-11, and see the discussion in Dupont (2017, 171–173).

95. Pers. 5.63, Diss. II.21.19; IV.4.41, cf. Diss. III.15.11.

96. For example, see Diss. II.6.4, 17.34.

97. Diss. II.21.13.

98. On Manilius’ comments at Astron. 3.38-39 and his stated satisfaction regarding the impenetrableness of his work, consider the valuable discussion in Bartsch (2015, 166–167). Consider also reflections on the complexities of Stoicism at Cicero Parad. 2, Plutarch De virt. mor. 449AB, Gellius Att. 12.5.6, and discussions at Gowers (1993, 180–181) and Roskam (2005, 16).

99. See Diss. I.25.33, II.11.7-14.

100. Diss. II.12.10-12.

101. Diss. I.20.13. See, respectively, Diss. I.26.13-14; 10.13; 20.13. See also Diss. I.7.5-12, 30, along with the comments of Dobbin (2007, 115).

102. Diss. II.16.34. Regarding Epictetus’ frustration at people who cannot properly identify a philosopher, consider Diss. I.8.14.

103. Or. 70.1.

104. See the useful discussion on the use of δίαιτα in antiquity in Bartoš (2015).

105. Flor. 7.9-10.

106. Epit.1.52.11-22. On this point, see the discussion in Lauwers and Roskam (2012, 185).

107. Eun. 4-5, 9. Regarding this passage, see the useful commentary in Frede (1999, 792) and Eshleman (2012, 36). Consider also Pl. Sym. 174 on the selection of Xenocrates to be Speusippus’ successor in the academy.

108. Pedersen (1976).

109. Cribiore (2007, 198).

110. On this, see also the reflections of Haake (2015, 76, 78).

111. Herm. 21. On the Stoic idea of belonging to a city consider Schofield (1991).

112. Dion 1.1. On this passage, see also Trapp (2007, 15), cf. Apul. Apol. 64, 536, and Galen Aff. Pecc. Dig. II.68.9-10.

113. Boys-Stones (2018, 10) and Baltzly (2014).

114. On this practice with regards to Bion’s school, see the valuable comments at Dorandi (1999, 62). At Herm. 82, 86, Lucian implies that students of Stoic philosophy might grow their beards to mark themselves out as being philosophers. On the importance of uniforms and shared symbols for social identity theory, see Jenkins (1994, 145).

115. For example, see Plut. Demetr. 45, Jos. BJ 1.209, Ath. 6.78, and Dio Or. 1.43.

116. Respectively, Polyb 1.69.11, Thuc 2.48.3, Isocr 4.11, Plato Theag. 124c, Xenophon Hiero 6, Plu. Symp IV.2.3, and Sextus adv Theag. 124c.

117. For example, see 1 Cor. 14.16, 23, 24. For further uses of ἰδιώτης that are not derogatory, see also Galen Affect. 1 and the discussion in Kraus (1999).

118. For example, see De Anima 81.27 and Plut. Cic. 26.6.

119. Luc. Dom. 2, Plut. Compar. 1, and Ath. 9.20.

120. For example, respectively, Ps.-Xenophon Const. Ath. 1.5, Rep. 6.494, 489, Med. 11.23. As Maxwell (2006, 16) notes: “aristocratic condescension toward ordinary people is often cited as an indication of the gulf separating elite and mass culture . . . Remarks about ‘masses’ usually indicate an unquestioned sense of superiority over ordinary people.”

121. Stock (1982, 28–29).

122. For example, at Parat. Orat 90 Cicero contrasts the indocti (uneducated) and agrestes multi (uncultured/rustic majority) with the humani (well educated) and politi boni (good/refined men).

123. Diss. I.3.3-4.

124. Diss. II.14.23, 25, 39. This analogy appears to have been first used by Pythagoras (Diog. Laert. 8.8, Iamblichis, V.P. 12.58-59), from which Fitzgerald (2013, 136) argues that Pythagoras must have “believed that ‘philosopher’ was sufficient to distinguish the minority who devoted themselves to the contemplation and discovery of nature from the majority who gave themselves to other pursuits.”

125. Diss. I.2.22. Stephens (2007, 120, 121) significantly comments: “this quotation is essential for establishing that Epictetus believes Stoicism is for the few, not the many. . . . His judgment, which probably derives from empirical observations, is that the multitude judge themselves wretched because they judge their physical condition to be wretched . . . only a rare few, as it turns out, have the prowess to stand out from the crowd like this.” See also Epictetus’ remarks at Diss. III.1.18-19.

126. See. Diss. I.18.

127. Diss. II.17.5, 21.8, III.23.28, IV.7.32.

128. Diss. I.12.35, 27.5; 29.22-23; II.14.2; 17.4; III.16.6-7, Ench. 51, and consider especially Diss. III.19, a discourse that is entitled “What is the Position of the Layperson, and What That of the Philosopher?” Τίς στάσις ἰδιώτου καὶ φιλοσόφου.

129. Diss. III.15.13. Eshleman (2012, 73–74) comments in this regard are worth quoting at length: “Echoing Socrates, he [Epictetus] repeatedly cautions against chasing after the meaningless approval of lay people, which no specialist heeds when it comes to his own art (2.13.3; 14.2; 4.1.117, 5.22, 12.14). Why would a philosopher care if he is admired by non-philosophers (1.21.3-4; cf. 2.7.4-7, 13.16-19, 2.9.50-4) or despised by the ignorant (4.5.22), whose behavior betrays their incomprehension of true moral value? . . . [For Epictetus] exclusion of lay voices serves to marginalize inappropriate (sophistic, crowd-pleasing) modes of philosophy.” See also the discussion in Hock (1993, 139) and Boter (2010, 327–331) and similar comments to Epictetus’ from Seneca at Ep. 5.6, 7.1-8, 10.5, 20.3, 23.8, 25.7, as well as Muson. 18b. Okell (2005, 193), also notes that in Seneca’s play Hercules: “Hercules is struggling to save mankind from the restriction of fear and tyranny, but mankind (in the form of the chorus) is clearly not interested in being saved or in being heroic.”

130. See also Ench. 51.

131. Diss. II.1.21.

132. Diss. I.8.8-7, and I.19.1-2. That Stoics could even characterize philosophers as being ignorant (or ἄγνοια), but due to their lack of consistently upheld correct behavior/mindset, and not because of any epistemic failings, see Cuany (2015).

133. Gill and Hard (1995, 101).

134. See Kraus (1999).

135. Diss. III.7.1. See also Diss. III.15.8-13 along with the discussion in Hoof (2010, 103).

136. Diss. II.17.5, I.25.32-33.

137. Diss. II.12.2.

138. Consider especially Diss. IV.8.17-24, and Ench. 46, 47, cf. Diss. II.1.36-39 and 13.22-23. For comments on some of these passages, see Oakes (1993, 53).

139. Diss. I.29.31; 26.30-31, see also II.22.36.

140. Diss. III.16.9.

141. Ench. 33.6.

142. Med. 6.35.

143. Diss. I.22.18-19.

144. For example, see Ep. 91.19, where Seneca approvingly notes that the Cynic Demetrius compares the speech of laypeople to be like the grumbling of the digestive tract. See also the strong language used regarding the views of nonphilosophers’ judgments at Med. III.4, and Apuleius Apol. 39.1.

145. Apuleius Apol. 3.6, 27.1.

146. Diss. I.29.52, 54. Eshleman (2012, 36 n.63) also draws attention to this passage. See also a similar statement from Epictetus at Diss. IV.5.22. Meanwhile, Wildberger (2014b, 309–310) argues from Ep. 95.56: “Like Socrates and like his fellow Stoics, Seneca is clearly an intellectualist. For him this means that one must not only practice ethical behavior but seriously study philosophy in order to become a good person.” See also Herm. 1.

147. Regarding laypeople laughing at philosophers, see Diss. I.11.39, III.15.11; III.20.18; on them being repelled II.14.21, III.23.28-30, cf. Diss. II.13.4 and IV.8.34-36; and regarding the thread of violence from nonphilosophers, see II.12.24-25, and IV.1.7.

148. Ench. 22.

149. Respectively, Diss. II.21.11, III.9.14, 20.19; 21.22; Ench. 22.

150. Diss. II.21.15.

151. For example, Philodemus Rhet. Fr. 3, Pers. 5.86, Quintillian Inst. 12.3.11, Constant. 3.1, Ep. 73.1, 76.4, Aristoxenus Harm. 2.102, Dio Or. 66.25, 72.8, Vit. Auct. 7.10, Symp. 34, Fug. 14-15, Pisc. 12, 37, Merc. Cond 25, Juv. 2.8-9, 14-15, and Diod. Sic. 2.29.5-6.

152. Lucian Icar. 29.

153. Plut. Virt. prof. 81.B.

154. Ep. 5.3.

155. Diss. III.8.7.

156. Horace Sat. 1.4.109, Seneca Ep. 108.22, Muson. Rufus Fr. 16.10, and Tacitus Agric. 4.3.

157. Ep. 123.10-11.

158. Pers. 3.80-89.

159. Tacitus Hist. 3.81.1.

160. Dio Or. 72.7-8.

161. See also the discussion in Hilton (2018, 27).

162. Herm. 15.

163. See though my comments here at p. 14 n.76, regarding the debate over classifying the Cynic school as a philosophical school or not.

164. See again Sedley (2003a).

165. For instance, in his Epistles Seneca, to my count, depicts objections being raised to Stoic philosophy on at least five occasions: Ep. 74.22, 92.21, 102.8, 121.1, 124. It is hard to ascertain whether his imagined interlocutor belongs to a particular, or any, philosophical school, but informed debates range over topics such as empiricism and the Stoic understanding of oikeiosis. For a description, although likely overemphasized for satirical purposes, of philosophers from different schools who turn away from each other in disgust at a dinner party, see Symp. 6.

166. For example, see Frede (1999, 783–790) and Hatzimichali (2011, 1–5, 14–20).

167. On this, see in particular Boys-Stones (2001, 99–122), along with the studies of Reydams-Schils (2011) and Long (2013b) and comments by Sellars (2014, 106–108).

168. See Cicero Tusc. 1.79, Fin. 4.79, Philodemus Stoic Hist. 61.2-6, Galen Php 4.7, and the discussions in Frede (1999, 777–778) and Tieleman (2007).