Comic Strip of the Day

CSotD: Yet another clash between humor and reality

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Mike Peterson Published: August 25, 2011 1 minute 5 comments

Funny you should mention it, Non Sequitur.

In one of those odd quirks of timing, the Washington Post had an article Monday exploring the concept without trying to be funny: "Philosophical counselors rely on eternal wisdom of great thinkers" was about, well, "philosophical counselors," who offer people advice based on Epictetus and the gang.

Wiley Miller is only joking, of course. A couple of years ago, I ran into him in Portland at the Maine Comic Arts Festival and, on the way back, spotted this hot dog stand in Freeport.

They don't hire philosophers to run hot dog stands in Maine. They hire vending executives.

Wiley knows that. He lives there. He was kidding.

But the philosophical counselors are dead serious, which puts Wiley's intentional humor and their unintentional humor in a dead heat of the ridiculous.

I like Epictetus and have given the Enchiridion to people several times. I didn't realize that (according to the article) I could get $80 an hour for doing it.

Epictetus is an excellent philosopher to recommend to people because (A) he's really easy reading and (B) he's really easy comprehending, though not so easy actually integrating into your for-real emotional responses.

Epictetus was a Stoic, and, while our language has transformed "stoicism" into "not reacting to anything," it actually involves picking your battles and repeatedly asking yourself that age-old question, "What's really bothering you?"

For instance, he suggests, if you go to a dinner and aren't treated with the favor you feel you deserve, you need to think of it this way: If you go to the market and don't like the price of lettuce, you don't have to buy it, but you can't feel cheated. You didn't get lettuce, but you still have your money.

Similarly, if you aren't treated like an honored guest at some important person's house, it's likely because you haven't been enough of a suck-up. So you shouldn't feel cheated: You didn't get the best seat at the table, but you still have your self-respect.

Epictetus does not discuss how to feel if you have been a real suck-up and still got a lousy seat at dinner, but I suppose it's as if you had paid the higher price for the lettuce, got it home and realized it was full of bugs and rust spots. At that point, you shouldn't be angry at the seller for giving you bad lettuce but with yourself for not having examined it more closely before paying a premium price.

A lot of Epictetus's advice is to stop being angry with other people for being greedy, dishonest and unpleasant and learn that the problem isn't that they are who they are, but that you keep expecting them to be who you'd like them to be.

But, of course, learning to turn the problem in upon yourself is only helpful if you are then prepared to actually change your expectations of the world, which, again, is easy to understand but a little trickier to apply. Particularly if your problem is that you already do too good a job of blaming yourself for everything bad that happens around you.

Stoicism is basically the prayer of theologican Reinhold Neibuhr: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

It's probably more helpful than, for instance, trying to get people to apply the teachings of Bishop Berkeley to their personal problems:

"My father doesn't love me."

"Well, you can't know for certain that your father even exists."

The article explains that "There are about 300 philosophical counselors in 36 states and more than 20 foreign countries who are certified by the American Philosophical Practitioners Association, along with another 600 who practice but are not certified."

The notion of being certified by the American Philosophical Practitioners Association made me laugh aloud. Epictetus specifically advises not to call yourself a philosopher but to let your actions demonstrate what you are. He also warns that, if you go back to your hometown and announce that you've become a philosopher, the people you grew up with will make fun of you.

Given that Epictetus is not unique in providing that sort of advice, it's comforting that only one-third of the people who hold themselves out to be "philosophical practitioners" bother to get certified with the APPA. There's an "All Cretans are liars" paradox hiding in there somewhere, and I'd recommend going to one of the other 600.

And I assume "Achilles and the Tortoise" also come into play. At the end of each $80 session, your philosophical practitioner says, "Well, I think you're halfway there …"