I've been involved with Buddhism for over fifty years, some of those years as a monastic.
Having been with five teachers, several in the Chinese and Japanese tradition who have passed away, the most often mentioned response to "grief" is that it is natural to grieve but one should avoid being "attached" to grief and avoid dwelling on it until one becomes too absorbed, to the point of obsession. I agree with you that shutting down one's natural feelings is very unhealthy and can become a pathological condition as evidenced in Epictetus's writings. Ostentatious displays of grief were to be avoided.
In rural Ireland where I was born, one grieved those who died young but celebrated the death of the elderly with an "Irish wake", a convivial getting-together with friends and relatives.
Can you help me out? I have identified three arguments you are using here. The first is what I wrote as 'the good outcomes argument', which I will state as:
If grief were intrinsically bad, it could never yield good outcomes (e.g., inspiring Cicero’s writings). Since grief sometimes produces benefits, it cannot be intrinsically bad.
However, if this is a correct interpretation of your position, this argument mistakenly assumes that intrinsic badness is measured solely by observable outcomes. In Stoicism, the claim that grief is “by nature bad” refers not to every conceivable effect of experiencing loss but to the destructive passion that arises from a false judgment. That is, the irrational belief that external events (such as a loved one’s death) are true evils. Epictetus explains in his Enchiridion that it is not the event itself but our judgment about the event that disturbs us. (See Epictetus, Enchiridion 10.)
Moreover, if we followed your logic consistently, we would have to conclude that nothing intrinsically harmful can produce any beneficial side effects. This conclusion would absurdly exonerate phenomena like war or disease because they sometimes lead to progress or innovation. You note that Cicero’s philosophical works came from his grief, so presumably, grief cannot be “bad by nature.” However, the Stoics would respond that if one’s grief leads to beneficial outcomes, like writing treatises, it may reflect that the person found a way to channel sorrow productively, whether it was a vicious passion or a moderated, rational sadness. Stoics do not say that nothing worthwhile can ever follow from strong emotion; they say that letting an emotion become a destructive obsession is an error. A spark can ignite either a light or a forest fire. Channelled effectively, even sorrow can inspire something good, but the sorrow itself (as a passion) remains negative in Stoic terms.
The second argument is the 'Argument from Pyhrronism', which states:
Since, according to Pyrrhonism, nothing is intrinsically good or bad, the Stoic claim that grief is intrinsically bad is dogmatic and unwarranted.
However, a genuine Pyrrhonian does not affirm that nothing has any value; rather, they suspend judgment about intrinsic values altogether. By invoking Pyrrhonism to reject the Stoic position, you imply that no intrinsic moral judgment is possible. However, you simultaneously claim that grief sometimes has good outcomes (such as fostering personal growth). This is self-contradictory: if nothing is intrinsically good or bad, you must also suspend judgment on any value-laden claim that grief is beneficial. Thus, if you fully adopt the Pyrrhonist stance, you cannot consistently maintain that grief produces good outcomes while also arguing that nothing is intrinsically valuable. This moves beyond strict suspension of judgment into dogma, which undercuts the Pyrrhonist stance. For instance, a strict Pyrrhonist cannot confidently assert that grief is a net positive for anyone since they must remain noncommittal on every evaluative claim.
The final argument is the 'psychopathy argument':
If a normal person fully adopts the Stoic approach to grief, they will either become emotionally deadened (psychopathic) or find Stoicism psychologically impossible to implement. Therefore, normal people cannot practice Stoicism.
For me, this is the more rhetorical of the arguments. This argument seems to be based on misrepresenting what Stoic apatheia entails. Stoicism does not call for the elimination of all emotions, nor does it advocate a cold, unfeeling existence akin to psychopathy. Instead, Stoics transform irrational, excessive passions into eupatheiai, or rational, well-regulated emotions. Seneca explicitly denies that Stoics become emotionless; rather, he argues that they cultivate resilience and maintain genuine concern, albeit balanced and measured (Seneca, Epistles 104.11–12).
Furthermore, historical figures such as Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus experienced loss and grief without descending into emotional deadness. We see a modern parallel in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, which similarly teaches people to identify and reshape irrational judgments that underlie intense emotional distress, yet does not transform them into cold, unfeeling individuals. The Stoic approach is aspirational since progress, not immediate perfection, is its goal.
These arguments, (1) that grief’s beneficial by-products disprove its intrinsic badness, (2) that Pyrrhonism undermines the Stoic claim about moral value, and (3) that Stoicism entails emotional deadness, each rest on misunderstandings of Stoic doctrine. Stoics do not judge grief solely by outcomes but by the rational (or irrational) judgments within the emotion. A thoroughgoing Pyrrhonist would suspend judgment on grief’s moral status entirely, rather than tout its benefits. Finally, rather than being psychopathic, Stoic apatheia indicates freedom from destructive passion, not from compassionate concern or natural affection. I hope these clarifications resolve some problems and demonstrate the robust, humane rationale behind Stoic teachings on grief.
If I have misread you in any way, I would appreciate any clarification. Thanks.
Thank you for the in-depth engagement with my article.
Argument 1, as you put it: “If grief were intrinsically bad, it could never yield good outcomes (e.g., inspiring Cicero’s writings). Since grief sometimes produces benefits, it cannot be intrinsically bad.”
I was thinking here of the traditional Pyrrhonist argument that if X were by nature bad, it would not be perceived as good by some people. For example, death is widely viewed as bad, but it is good for the undertakers. Therefore, one cannot conclude that X is by nature bad.
What’s actually the situation is that good and bad are relative to the perceiver. They are opinions. They are to be found in minds, not in nature.
As I understand the Stoic argument about grief, grief is an undesirable passion that arises from a false judgment - that the external event (the loved one’s death) is an evil.
Regarding your point about Epictetus saying that it is not the event itself but our judgment about the event that disturbs us, I don’t think that translation properly conveys what Epictetus meant. The Greek word being translated here as “judgment” is “dogma.” It’s not mere judgment Epictetus is talking about; he’s talking about a set of philosophical principles. He’s saying that it is not events that disturb us, but it is our worldview (or philosophy or beliefs) about them. The funeral I just attended was a clear example of this point. It was a Christian funeral, and it emphasized that our grief about our loved one’s death was mistaken, that our loved one was in a better place now, that he had merely gotten ahead of us on our journey, and that we would soon be reunited. Epictetus wishes to instill in his students the Stoic dogma about grief.
Argument 2, as you put it, “By invoking Pyrrhonism to reject the Stoic position, you imply that no intrinsic moral judgment is possible. However, you simultaneously claim that grief sometimes has good outcomes (such as fostering personal growth). This is self-contradictory: if nothing is intrinsically good or bad, you must also suspend judgment on any value-laden claim that grief is beneficial.”
What you’re pointing to is perhaps the #1 reason dogmatists have trouble understanding Pyrrhonism. In the dogmatist view, if something is good, it is by nature good. So if a Pyrrhonist says something is good, then the dogmatist accuses the Pyrrhonist of being self-contradictory. But it’s only self-contradictory on the basis of the dogmatist’s premises - premises the Pyrrhonists explicitly deny - but which the dogmatists are dogmatic about.
To claim that good and evil do not exist by nature does not mean they do not exist. They exist in minds. Contrary to what you may have read, Pyrrhonism does not leave its practitioners devoid of evaluative faculties.
Argument 3, “normal people cannot practice Stoicism.”
I think you’re reading this into the text. I don’t think the text covers that topic. I think all I’m trying to say is that on the issue of grief, Stoicism endorses a psychopathological attitude.
Thanks, Doug. On the psychopathy argument, you mention that I have misread you on the point of whether Stoicism amounts to a “psychopathological” stance on grief. Here is how I extracted it:
Premise 1
“For many people, myself included, the worldview Epictetus encourages one to cultivate is the worldview of a psychopath. Only a psychopath would consider the loss of an important relationship to be nothing to them.”
Premise 2
“Epictetus is saying that one should consider the death of their child or spouse to be no different from the death of a person they’ve never met.”
Intermediate Inference
“Therefore, the Stoic practitioner must view the loss of a child or spouse with the same detachment as the death of a stranger, effectively treating it as ‘nothing’.”
Conclusion
“Hence, [Epictetus’] worldview is the worldview of a psychopath. It seems to be a denial of the facts in order to fit a dogma about some idealised mental state.”
These statements from your text illustrate the claim that the Stoic view on grief “endorses a psychopathological attitude.”
That is why I previously characterised it as:
“If a normal person fully adopts the Stoic approach to grief, they will either become emotionally deadened (psychopathic) or find Stoicism psychologically impossible to implement. Therefore, normal people cannot practise Stoicism.”
I hope this clarifies why I attributed that stance to you: it follows directly from your own statements likening the Stoic worldview to that of a psychopath.
My main contention is your view on grief, I suppose. I'm not sure how a confessed Pyrrhonist could accommodate it.
“Good and bad are relative to the perceiver. They are opinions. They exist in minds, not in nature.”
“To claim that good and evil do not exist by nature does not mean they do not exist. They exist in minds.”
This suggests from a Pyrrhonist perspective, grief is neither intrinsically good nor bad—nor real in any absolute sense. It is an evaluative label, entirely dependent on one’s mental or cultural framework. And if that is so, I think concerning grief this opens up some interesting ideas. If you are open to it, I would like to address and explore some of the issues I find here more in-depth.
Here's where I don't follow: “If a normal person fully adopts the Stoic approach to grief, they will either become emotionally deadened (psychopathic) or find Stoicism psychologically impossible to implement. Therefore, normal people cannot practise Stoicism.”
I don't think I said anything about Stoicism being psychologically impossible to implement, nor did I draw the conclusion that normal people cannot practice Stoicism. It appears to me that lots of normal people, both in antiquity and these days, are practicing Stoicism. On the other hand, one might wish to consider what the Stoics themselves said: that except for the sage, normal people all fall short in practicing Stoicism.
On your comment, "This suggests from a Pyrrhonist perspective, grief is neither intrinsically good nor bad—nor real in any absolute sense," it seems to me that grief is a judgment about something being bad, rather than grief itself being by nature neither good nor bad.
As for what you mean by "nor real in any absolute sense" I would not assent to saying that grief is not real - that it is something imaginary.
You described Stoicism’s stance on grief as “the worldview of a psychopath,” because Epictetus advises treating one’s child’s death no differently from that of a stranger. At first glance, this implies that a Stoic must become emotionally numb or indifferent, which you label “psychopathological.” But to understand Stoicism correctly, we must see how it distinguishes between rejecting a proposition (the de dicto sense) and denying the real significance of an event (the de re sense).
De Dicto: Stoics urge us not to hold the proposition “My child’s death is the worst possible evil.”
De Re: They do not say, “Your child’s life (or death) is worthless or must mean nothing to you.”
Conflating these two levels can make Stoics look callous. They reject calling the event an ultimate evil (a de dicto stance), but they do not necessarily refuse to care about their child in the de re sense.
Your Pyrrhonist view posits that good and bad exist only “in minds,” not “in nature.” In de dicto terms, you suspend any universal proposition like “X is intrinsically good.” This does not mean, in a de re sense, you can never prefer or respond to events with feelings; rather, you refrain from calling them intrinsically good or bad.
However, if you say grief “sometimes fosters personal growth or beneficial outcomes,” you seem to adopt a value claim de dicto, even if you disclaim its absolute status. Stoics may ask: “Are you not thereby stating that grief is, in some sense, good?” The confusion arises when Pyrrhonists want to remain neutral about intrinsic value (a de dicto stance) yet, in day-to-day life, respond as though grief yields positive or negative outcomes (a de re preference).
When you label Stoicism “psychopathological,” you treat the Stoic’s de dicto rejection (“No event is moral evil”) as though it were a de re denial that loved ones matter. Stoics historically encouraged strong friendships, family bonds, and benevolence, but refused to treat external losses as evils in principle. Accusing them of emotional deadness stems from reading their de dicto stance as a de re claim that they do not care about others.
Pyrrhonists do not call grief “unreal.” Rather, they suspend de dicto statements that grief is “intrinsically” good or bad. Yet at the de re level, they still exhibit preferences, feelings, or personal attachments. For outsiders, the tension is how one can truly withhold de dicto judgments while acting de re as if certain losses do matter.
I mention this because the de re / de dicto lens illuminates how Stoic and Pyrrhonist claims can be misread as either “psychopathic” or “unreal” when they refer to two different levels of ascribing value or significance.
When you read the statement, “From a Pyrrhonist perspective, grief is neither intrinsically good nor bad, nor real in any absolute sense,” you interpreted it as hinting that “grief is not real” or that it might be “imaginary.” That is not necessarily what was meant. Here, “nor real in any absolute sense” refers specifically to moral or existential absoluteness, not to whether grief exists. From what you say, I was pointing out that Pyrrhonists see grief’s value as mind-dependent, lacking objective footing in nature. Thus, for the Pyrrhonist, grief is “real” in that it occurs, but it carries no inherent goodness or badness - only what individual perceivers, shaped by their own beliefs or traditions, ascribe to it.
By drawing this conclusion, I did not call grief illusory. Rather, I attempted to spell out the logical implication of your stance that “good and bad exist only in minds”: namely, that the moral or existential dimension of grief resides in subjective beliefs, not in any external fact or inherent nature.
You say the Stoics "do not say, “Your child’s life (or death) is worthless or must mean nothing to you.”" My understanding is that is what they do say. For example, Seneca praised Stilpo, saying, "...after his country was captured and his children and his wife lost, as he emerged from the general desolation alone and yet happy, spoke as follows to Demetrius, called Sacker of Cities because of the destruction he brought upon them, in answer to the question whether he had lost anything: "I have all my goods with me!""
My condolences Doug, your grief comes out of love. All the true emotions or core emotions... happiness sadness or grief, anger, and guilt come from love and a desire for connection mostly to people but also sometimes to things or ideas. That's really the best part of us I think more important than our intellect which is a tool for navigating life. I believe the mediation of emotion is important to feel it rather than suppress it with anxiety, so that we can then utilize our intellect to decide what constructive thing to do if anything besides grieving. It can remind us to maximize our connections with others in the time that we do have, it can motivate us to have memorials so they are not forgotten maybe things that help others in their lives etc. But to grieve brings relief and allows us to be able to remember those people without having to suppress unresolved grief and we can remember why we love them in the first place in the good things that we shared with them but if we suppress it then we disconnect from ourselves, we disconnect from the person we lost, and to some extent we disconnect from the others that are still around us. Thank you for sharing.
Wishing for the best for you. You’re a generation or so ahead of me but I consider you a kindred spirit. If indeed your writing gets your spirit across.
I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve had one recently as well.
This has been strangely comforting (and almost the way a Pyrrhonist would respond to a Stoic) to me:
“Why do you weep thus, if weeping avails nothing?
And the sage answered him, 'Precisely for that reason—because it does not avail'
I'm a little late getting to this article, but so glad I did! Very few people seem to have a good handle on grief, but you have written an excellent survey with great care. I hope it reaches a lot of people!
You said: "Unlike the Stoics, I think grief plays an important role. It is not an emotion to be eradicated." I couldn't agree more. As I went through I profound experience of grief a few years ago it dawned on me what was going on: love.
When we love another, there is a reciprocity, a resonance... love cannot exist as a monad. It is inherently relational. So when someone we love dies, our "terminus" of loving is alive and well, yet the other "terminus" is whisked away - forever silent thereafter. What *was* a mutual reciprocity in love becomes a one-way broadcast of love into a bottomless abyss; the ultimate unrequitalable.
So, if we DO love, we should NOT be surprised that grief arises at the death of loved ones. In time the heart adjusts to that reciprocal connection being severed - and the energy sink of "shouting into the abyss" is no longer sustainable. Grief subsides. Love remains, although transformed.
My interactions in spiritual spheres put me in contact with more eastern traditions that Greek. But there is no small gravitation towards what I consider asceticism in even modern spirituality. There is much talk "renouncing attachments" and what I consider idolizing of "equanimity." The path of the ascetic and hermit is one of renouncing love in lieu of some esoteric peace of mind. But, given the price that must be paid for that so-called peace, I would much rather accept the inevitability of grief, than forego a life of love.
I have not yet written an essay about grieving, though it's been in the back of my mind for several years. If I do, I will most certainly reference your writing. Thank you so much for speaking with such good sense on the topic, and doing so with heart.
I am sorry for your loss Doug. Excellent read as always. For that first quote from Epictetus, I learned recently that the Greek word for “disturbed” used there probably translates more accurately to something like “despondent”. So I do think that passage could be more interpreted as claiming that the death of a child should not lead you to being unable to function (say, care for your other children).
That said, I’m not sure that applies to all those other passages! I’m not sure if the Ancient Stoics made any distinction between short-term, “normal” grief and long-term unhealthy grief. I will say the passages above seem to be directed more-so at people who are not functioning after a loss rather than people who are just sad.
Also the Stoics did acknowledge that emotions like fear would happen (like the Stoic man on the ship who gets pale during a storm). So I imagine they would (could?) acknowledge that grief will happen when a loved one dies but that excessive grief or grief that interferes with your duties is bad.
I think that position would at least be something a Modern Stoic could take (I don’t think it goes against “core” Stoic doctrine), but I may be overly defending the Ancient Stoics!
Although I think the set of quotes from Epictetus is not contradicted by anything else he said (that we know of), to be fair, Seneca says it's okay to shed a tear at a funeral.
I suspect all ancient wise people distinguished between normal grief and excessive grief. Plutarch makes such a distinction, for example. Also, it appears that the conditions of ancient life made people more sensitive to grief than we are, and that their cultures encouraged competitive, showy displays of grief, which encourages excessive grief.
Indeed - I was about to mention the "Consolation to Helvia". The problem with reading Seneca (as with Cicero) is that he was an orator first and a philosopher maybe third, so it is hard to tell how much is intended to have an effect on his intended audience and how much is his own opinion.
In your profound sorrow, please know that the pain you feel is not only natural but a testament to the love you shared. There is no shame in grief; it is the heart's honest response to loss.
I understand that the ideas of Stoic detachment (apatheia) and Buddhist non-attachment (upekkhā) might seem distant or even unfeeling in such a raw moment. Perhaps they sound like an attempt to suppress the very real emotions that are surging within you.
However, I offer these perspectives not as a way to deny your pain, but as potential paths towards navigating it. Being a Buddhist Priest who lives following Stoic principles, I can tell that both acknowledge the inevitability of suffering in life. They do not ask us to become emotionless, but rather to cultivate a different relationship with our feelings.
I think of it this way: feeling the sadness, the longing, the emptiness – these are natural responses. But sometimes, we can become attached to these feelings, clinging to them in a way that intensifies our suffering. Buddhist philosophy teaches that attachment (upādāna) to what is impermanent (anicca) is the root of our pain (dukkha). Stoicism, on the other hand, guides us to focus on what we can control – our thoughts and judgments – and to accept what we cannot, such as the reality of loss.
The synthesis of these ideas suggests that we can allow ourselves to feel the pain fully, without resistance, but we can also learn to loosen the grip of attachment to these feelings. It’s about recognizing that while the pain is real, clinging to it as a fixed identity or resisting its natural ebb and flow can prolong our suffering.
Having been there, in the deepest sorrow, I have come to understand that detachment is not the absence of love, but the absence of clinging. We can love deeply and cherish the memories without being bound by an attachment that leads to endless suffering. By acknowledging the impermanent nature of all things, as Buddhism teaches, and by focusing on our inner resilience, as Stoicism advocates, we can learn to let go of the intense pain, not by forgetting our loved ones, but by carrying their memory with a sense of peace and acceptance.
This is not a sudden shift, but a gradual process of understanding and allowing. Be gentle with yourself, and allow yourself to grieve, but also consider that within these ancient philosophies lies a potential for finding a more natural way to navigate your pain, a way that honors your feelings while also allowing for healing and eventual peace.
When the Buddha pointed out death happens in every family by asking for a seed, isn't that more or less the same as Epicurus (edit : correction Epictetus) saying we should note our reaction to death which happens in other families and we should see our own in that light?
The Bhagavad Gita says that the "wise grieve neither over the living or the dead", but it's not something you can say nowadays when a tragedy occurs even amongst people that esteem it.
Personal grief is understandable and sorry for your loss. While compassion is part of Buddhist belief would it also be true that it is psychopathological to believe the four noble truths of Buddhism end in the cessation of suffering? Or have I misunderstood?
I interpret the story of Kisagotami to be about her delusional belief about her dead son, and that the task the Buddha gave her was designed to release her from that belief.
I think you're thinking of Epictetus, not Epicurus here, but perhaps I'm wrong.
I think Epictetus' mistake is that he thinks because we can bear the deaths of people unknown to us without grief, we should therefore be able to do so for our loved ones. I think this discounts the meaning those loved ones have for us, and does so unreasonably.
As for Buddhism, it all depends on what one thinks dukkha is and what one thinks the cessation of dukkha is. That's a difficult topic beyond the scope of this article.
"I think Epictetus' mistake is that he thinks because we can bear the deaths of people unknown to us without grief, we should therefore be able to do so for our loved ones. I think this discounts the meaning those loved ones have for us, and does so unreasonably".
Unreasonable or from a different sphere of concerns?
60. Long is the night to the sleepless; long is the road to the weary. Long is worldly existence to those who do not know the sublime truth.
61.
62. Sons are mine, riches are mine, so they suffer vexation. When even his self is not his own, how then sons, how then riches?
Dhammapada Chapter 5
There was a book written on the relationship of mothers to their children in a Brazilian favela, where infant mortality was very high. Which found that they sort of hedged their bets on the likelihood of their children's survival, in which profound grief came off as a bourgeois indulgence.
Dear Doug Bates,
Re: grief
I've been involved with Buddhism for over fifty years, some of those years as a monastic.
Having been with five teachers, several in the Chinese and Japanese tradition who have passed away, the most often mentioned response to "grief" is that it is natural to grieve but one should avoid being "attached" to grief and avoid dwelling on it until one becomes too absorbed, to the point of obsession. I agree with you that shutting down one's natural feelings is very unhealthy and can become a pathological condition as evidenced in Epictetus's writings. Ostentatious displays of grief were to be avoided.
In rural Ireland where I was born, one grieved those who died young but celebrated the death of the elderly with an "Irish wake", a convivial getting-together with friends and relatives.
All the best,
Hugh J. Curran
Can you help me out? I have identified three arguments you are using here. The first is what I wrote as 'the good outcomes argument', which I will state as:
If grief were intrinsically bad, it could never yield good outcomes (e.g., inspiring Cicero’s writings). Since grief sometimes produces benefits, it cannot be intrinsically bad.
However, if this is a correct interpretation of your position, this argument mistakenly assumes that intrinsic badness is measured solely by observable outcomes. In Stoicism, the claim that grief is “by nature bad” refers not to every conceivable effect of experiencing loss but to the destructive passion that arises from a false judgment. That is, the irrational belief that external events (such as a loved one’s death) are true evils. Epictetus explains in his Enchiridion that it is not the event itself but our judgment about the event that disturbs us. (See Epictetus, Enchiridion 10.)
Moreover, if we followed your logic consistently, we would have to conclude that nothing intrinsically harmful can produce any beneficial side effects. This conclusion would absurdly exonerate phenomena like war or disease because they sometimes lead to progress or innovation. You note that Cicero’s philosophical works came from his grief, so presumably, grief cannot be “bad by nature.” However, the Stoics would respond that if one’s grief leads to beneficial outcomes, like writing treatises, it may reflect that the person found a way to channel sorrow productively, whether it was a vicious passion or a moderated, rational sadness. Stoics do not say that nothing worthwhile can ever follow from strong emotion; they say that letting an emotion become a destructive obsession is an error. A spark can ignite either a light or a forest fire. Channelled effectively, even sorrow can inspire something good, but the sorrow itself (as a passion) remains negative in Stoic terms.
The second argument is the 'Argument from Pyhrronism', which states:
Since, according to Pyrrhonism, nothing is intrinsically good or bad, the Stoic claim that grief is intrinsically bad is dogmatic and unwarranted.
However, a genuine Pyrrhonian does not affirm that nothing has any value; rather, they suspend judgment about intrinsic values altogether. By invoking Pyrrhonism to reject the Stoic position, you imply that no intrinsic moral judgment is possible. However, you simultaneously claim that grief sometimes has good outcomes (such as fostering personal growth). This is self-contradictory: if nothing is intrinsically good or bad, you must also suspend judgment on any value-laden claim that grief is beneficial. Thus, if you fully adopt the Pyrrhonist stance, you cannot consistently maintain that grief produces good outcomes while also arguing that nothing is intrinsically valuable. This moves beyond strict suspension of judgment into dogma, which undercuts the Pyrrhonist stance. For instance, a strict Pyrrhonist cannot confidently assert that grief is a net positive for anyone since they must remain noncommittal on every evaluative claim.
The final argument is the 'psychopathy argument':
If a normal person fully adopts the Stoic approach to grief, they will either become emotionally deadened (psychopathic) or find Stoicism psychologically impossible to implement. Therefore, normal people cannot practice Stoicism.
For me, this is the more rhetorical of the arguments. This argument seems to be based on misrepresenting what Stoic apatheia entails. Stoicism does not call for the elimination of all emotions, nor does it advocate a cold, unfeeling existence akin to psychopathy. Instead, Stoics transform irrational, excessive passions into eupatheiai, or rational, well-regulated emotions. Seneca explicitly denies that Stoics become emotionless; rather, he argues that they cultivate resilience and maintain genuine concern, albeit balanced and measured (Seneca, Epistles 104.11–12).
Furthermore, historical figures such as Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus experienced loss and grief without descending into emotional deadness. We see a modern parallel in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, which similarly teaches people to identify and reshape irrational judgments that underlie intense emotional distress, yet does not transform them into cold, unfeeling individuals. The Stoic approach is aspirational since progress, not immediate perfection, is its goal.
These arguments, (1) that grief’s beneficial by-products disprove its intrinsic badness, (2) that Pyrrhonism undermines the Stoic claim about moral value, and (3) that Stoicism entails emotional deadness, each rest on misunderstandings of Stoic doctrine. Stoics do not judge grief solely by outcomes but by the rational (or irrational) judgments within the emotion. A thoroughgoing Pyrrhonist would suspend judgment on grief’s moral status entirely, rather than tout its benefits. Finally, rather than being psychopathic, Stoic apatheia indicates freedom from destructive passion, not from compassionate concern or natural affection. I hope these clarifications resolve some problems and demonstrate the robust, humane rationale behind Stoic teachings on grief.
If I have misread you in any way, I would appreciate any clarification. Thanks.
Thank you for the in-depth engagement with my article.
Argument 1, as you put it: “If grief were intrinsically bad, it could never yield good outcomes (e.g., inspiring Cicero’s writings). Since grief sometimes produces benefits, it cannot be intrinsically bad.”
I was thinking here of the traditional Pyrrhonist argument that if X were by nature bad, it would not be perceived as good by some people. For example, death is widely viewed as bad, but it is good for the undertakers. Therefore, one cannot conclude that X is by nature bad.
What’s actually the situation is that good and bad are relative to the perceiver. They are opinions. They are to be found in minds, not in nature.
As I understand the Stoic argument about grief, grief is an undesirable passion that arises from a false judgment - that the external event (the loved one’s death) is an evil.
Regarding your point about Epictetus saying that it is not the event itself but our judgment about the event that disturbs us, I don’t think that translation properly conveys what Epictetus meant. The Greek word being translated here as “judgment” is “dogma.” It’s not mere judgment Epictetus is talking about; he’s talking about a set of philosophical principles. He’s saying that it is not events that disturb us, but it is our worldview (or philosophy or beliefs) about them. The funeral I just attended was a clear example of this point. It was a Christian funeral, and it emphasized that our grief about our loved one’s death was mistaken, that our loved one was in a better place now, that he had merely gotten ahead of us on our journey, and that we would soon be reunited. Epictetus wishes to instill in his students the Stoic dogma about grief.
Argument 2, as you put it, “By invoking Pyrrhonism to reject the Stoic position, you imply that no intrinsic moral judgment is possible. However, you simultaneously claim that grief sometimes has good outcomes (such as fostering personal growth). This is self-contradictory: if nothing is intrinsically good or bad, you must also suspend judgment on any value-laden claim that grief is beneficial.”
What you’re pointing to is perhaps the #1 reason dogmatists have trouble understanding Pyrrhonism. In the dogmatist view, if something is good, it is by nature good. So if a Pyrrhonist says something is good, then the dogmatist accuses the Pyrrhonist of being self-contradictory. But it’s only self-contradictory on the basis of the dogmatist’s premises - premises the Pyrrhonists explicitly deny - but which the dogmatists are dogmatic about.
To claim that good and evil do not exist by nature does not mean they do not exist. They exist in minds. Contrary to what you may have read, Pyrrhonism does not leave its practitioners devoid of evaluative faculties.
Argument 3, “normal people cannot practice Stoicism.”
I think you’re reading this into the text. I don’t think the text covers that topic. I think all I’m trying to say is that on the issue of grief, Stoicism endorses a psychopathological attitude.
Thanks, Doug. On the psychopathy argument, you mention that I have misread you on the point of whether Stoicism amounts to a “psychopathological” stance on grief. Here is how I extracted it:
Premise 1
“For many people, myself included, the worldview Epictetus encourages one to cultivate is the worldview of a psychopath. Only a psychopath would consider the loss of an important relationship to be nothing to them.”
Premise 2
“Epictetus is saying that one should consider the death of their child or spouse to be no different from the death of a person they’ve never met.”
Intermediate Inference
“Therefore, the Stoic practitioner must view the loss of a child or spouse with the same detachment as the death of a stranger, effectively treating it as ‘nothing’.”
Conclusion
“Hence, [Epictetus’] worldview is the worldview of a psychopath. It seems to be a denial of the facts in order to fit a dogma about some idealised mental state.”
These statements from your text illustrate the claim that the Stoic view on grief “endorses a psychopathological attitude.”
That is why I previously characterised it as:
“If a normal person fully adopts the Stoic approach to grief, they will either become emotionally deadened (psychopathic) or find Stoicism psychologically impossible to implement. Therefore, normal people cannot practise Stoicism.”
I hope this clarifies why I attributed that stance to you: it follows directly from your own statements likening the Stoic worldview to that of a psychopath.
My main contention is your view on grief, I suppose. I'm not sure how a confessed Pyrrhonist could accommodate it.
“Good and bad are relative to the perceiver. They are opinions. They exist in minds, not in nature.”
“To claim that good and evil do not exist by nature does not mean they do not exist. They exist in minds.”
This suggests from a Pyrrhonist perspective, grief is neither intrinsically good nor bad—nor real in any absolute sense. It is an evaluative label, entirely dependent on one’s mental or cultural framework. And if that is so, I think concerning grief this opens up some interesting ideas. If you are open to it, I would like to address and explore some of the issues I find here more in-depth.
Here's where I don't follow: “If a normal person fully adopts the Stoic approach to grief, they will either become emotionally deadened (psychopathic) or find Stoicism psychologically impossible to implement. Therefore, normal people cannot practise Stoicism.”
I don't think I said anything about Stoicism being psychologically impossible to implement, nor did I draw the conclusion that normal people cannot practice Stoicism. It appears to me that lots of normal people, both in antiquity and these days, are practicing Stoicism. On the other hand, one might wish to consider what the Stoics themselves said: that except for the sage, normal people all fall short in practicing Stoicism.
On your comment, "This suggests from a Pyrrhonist perspective, grief is neither intrinsically good nor bad—nor real in any absolute sense," it seems to me that grief is a judgment about something being bad, rather than grief itself being by nature neither good nor bad.
As for what you mean by "nor real in any absolute sense" I would not assent to saying that grief is not real - that it is something imaginary.
You described Stoicism’s stance on grief as “the worldview of a psychopath,” because Epictetus advises treating one’s child’s death no differently from that of a stranger. At first glance, this implies that a Stoic must become emotionally numb or indifferent, which you label “psychopathological.” But to understand Stoicism correctly, we must see how it distinguishes between rejecting a proposition (the de dicto sense) and denying the real significance of an event (the de re sense).
De Dicto: Stoics urge us not to hold the proposition “My child’s death is the worst possible evil.”
De Re: They do not say, “Your child’s life (or death) is worthless or must mean nothing to you.”
Conflating these two levels can make Stoics look callous. They reject calling the event an ultimate evil (a de dicto stance), but they do not necessarily refuse to care about their child in the de re sense.
Your Pyrrhonist view posits that good and bad exist only “in minds,” not “in nature.” In de dicto terms, you suspend any universal proposition like “X is intrinsically good.” This does not mean, in a de re sense, you can never prefer or respond to events with feelings; rather, you refrain from calling them intrinsically good or bad.
However, if you say grief “sometimes fosters personal growth or beneficial outcomes,” you seem to adopt a value claim de dicto, even if you disclaim its absolute status. Stoics may ask: “Are you not thereby stating that grief is, in some sense, good?” The confusion arises when Pyrrhonists want to remain neutral about intrinsic value (a de dicto stance) yet, in day-to-day life, respond as though grief yields positive or negative outcomes (a de re preference).
When you label Stoicism “psychopathological,” you treat the Stoic’s de dicto rejection (“No event is moral evil”) as though it were a de re denial that loved ones matter. Stoics historically encouraged strong friendships, family bonds, and benevolence, but refused to treat external losses as evils in principle. Accusing them of emotional deadness stems from reading their de dicto stance as a de re claim that they do not care about others.
Pyrrhonists do not call grief “unreal.” Rather, they suspend de dicto statements that grief is “intrinsically” good or bad. Yet at the de re level, they still exhibit preferences, feelings, or personal attachments. For outsiders, the tension is how one can truly withhold de dicto judgments while acting de re as if certain losses do matter.
I mention this because the de re / de dicto lens illuminates how Stoic and Pyrrhonist claims can be misread as either “psychopathic” or “unreal” when they refer to two different levels of ascribing value or significance.
When you read the statement, “From a Pyrrhonist perspective, grief is neither intrinsically good nor bad, nor real in any absolute sense,” you interpreted it as hinting that “grief is not real” or that it might be “imaginary.” That is not necessarily what was meant. Here, “nor real in any absolute sense” refers specifically to moral or existential absoluteness, not to whether grief exists. From what you say, I was pointing out that Pyrrhonists see grief’s value as mind-dependent, lacking objective footing in nature. Thus, for the Pyrrhonist, grief is “real” in that it occurs, but it carries no inherent goodness or badness - only what individual perceivers, shaped by their own beliefs or traditions, ascribe to it.
By drawing this conclusion, I did not call grief illusory. Rather, I attempted to spell out the logical implication of your stance that “good and bad exist only in minds”: namely, that the moral or existential dimension of grief resides in subjective beliefs, not in any external fact or inherent nature.
You say the Stoics "do not say, “Your child’s life (or death) is worthless or must mean nothing to you.”" My understanding is that is what they do say. For example, Seneca praised Stilpo, saying, "...after his country was captured and his children and his wife lost, as he emerged from the general desolation alone and yet happy, spoke as follows to Demetrius, called Sacker of Cities because of the destruction he brought upon them, in answer to the question whether he had lost anything: "I have all my goods with me!""
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My condolences Doug, your grief comes out of love. All the true emotions or core emotions... happiness sadness or grief, anger, and guilt come from love and a desire for connection mostly to people but also sometimes to things or ideas. That's really the best part of us I think more important than our intellect which is a tool for navigating life. I believe the mediation of emotion is important to feel it rather than suppress it with anxiety, so that we can then utilize our intellect to decide what constructive thing to do if anything besides grieving. It can remind us to maximize our connections with others in the time that we do have, it can motivate us to have memorials so they are not forgotten maybe things that help others in their lives etc. But to grieve brings relief and allows us to be able to remember those people without having to suppress unresolved grief and we can remember why we love them in the first place in the good things that we shared with them but if we suppress it then we disconnect from ourselves, we disconnect from the person we lost, and to some extent we disconnect from the others that are still around us. Thank you for sharing.
Wishing for the best for you. You’re a generation or so ahead of me but I consider you a kindred spirit. If indeed your writing gets your spirit across.
I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve had one recently as well.
This has been strangely comforting (and almost the way a Pyrrhonist would respond to a Stoic) to me:
“Why do you weep thus, if weeping avails nothing?
And the sage answered him, 'Precisely for that reason—because it does not avail'
-Miguel de Unamuno
Dear Doug,
I'm a little late getting to this article, but so glad I did! Very few people seem to have a good handle on grief, but you have written an excellent survey with great care. I hope it reaches a lot of people!
You said: "Unlike the Stoics, I think grief plays an important role. It is not an emotion to be eradicated." I couldn't agree more. As I went through I profound experience of grief a few years ago it dawned on me what was going on: love.
When we love another, there is a reciprocity, a resonance... love cannot exist as a monad. It is inherently relational. So when someone we love dies, our "terminus" of loving is alive and well, yet the other "terminus" is whisked away - forever silent thereafter. What *was* a mutual reciprocity in love becomes a one-way broadcast of love into a bottomless abyss; the ultimate unrequitalable.
So, if we DO love, we should NOT be surprised that grief arises at the death of loved ones. In time the heart adjusts to that reciprocal connection being severed - and the energy sink of "shouting into the abyss" is no longer sustainable. Grief subsides. Love remains, although transformed.
My interactions in spiritual spheres put me in contact with more eastern traditions that Greek. But there is no small gravitation towards what I consider asceticism in even modern spirituality. There is much talk "renouncing attachments" and what I consider idolizing of "equanimity." The path of the ascetic and hermit is one of renouncing love in lieu of some esoteric peace of mind. But, given the price that must be paid for that so-called peace, I would much rather accept the inevitability of grief, than forego a life of love.
I have not yet written an essay about grieving, though it's been in the back of my mind for several years. If I do, I will most certainly reference your writing. Thank you so much for speaking with such good sense on the topic, and doing so with heart.
All the best,
-Lance
I am sorry for your loss Doug. Excellent read as always. For that first quote from Epictetus, I learned recently that the Greek word for “disturbed” used there probably translates more accurately to something like “despondent”. So I do think that passage could be more interpreted as claiming that the death of a child should not lead you to being unable to function (say, care for your other children).
That said, I’m not sure that applies to all those other passages! I’m not sure if the Ancient Stoics made any distinction between short-term, “normal” grief and long-term unhealthy grief. I will say the passages above seem to be directed more-so at people who are not functioning after a loss rather than people who are just sad.
Also the Stoics did acknowledge that emotions like fear would happen (like the Stoic man on the ship who gets pale during a storm). So I imagine they would (could?) acknowledge that grief will happen when a loved one dies but that excessive grief or grief that interferes with your duties is bad.
I think that position would at least be something a Modern Stoic could take (I don’t think it goes against “core” Stoic doctrine), but I may be overly defending the Ancient Stoics!
Although I think the set of quotes from Epictetus is not contradicted by anything else he said (that we know of), to be fair, Seneca says it's okay to shed a tear at a funeral.
I suspect all ancient wise people distinguished between normal grief and excessive grief. Plutarch makes such a distinction, for example. Also, it appears that the conditions of ancient life made people more sensitive to grief than we are, and that their cultures encouraged competitive, showy displays of grief, which encourages excessive grief.
Indeed - I was about to mention the "Consolation to Helvia". The problem with reading Seneca (as with Cicero) is that he was an orator first and a philosopher maybe third, so it is hard to tell how much is intended to have an effect on his intended audience and how much is his own opinion.
I am sorry for your loss, Doug.
In your profound sorrow, please know that the pain you feel is not only natural but a testament to the love you shared. There is no shame in grief; it is the heart's honest response to loss.
I understand that the ideas of Stoic detachment (apatheia) and Buddhist non-attachment (upekkhā) might seem distant or even unfeeling in such a raw moment. Perhaps they sound like an attempt to suppress the very real emotions that are surging within you.
However, I offer these perspectives not as a way to deny your pain, but as potential paths towards navigating it. Being a Buddhist Priest who lives following Stoic principles, I can tell that both acknowledge the inevitability of suffering in life. They do not ask us to become emotionless, but rather to cultivate a different relationship with our feelings.
I think of it this way: feeling the sadness, the longing, the emptiness – these are natural responses. But sometimes, we can become attached to these feelings, clinging to them in a way that intensifies our suffering. Buddhist philosophy teaches that attachment (upādāna) to what is impermanent (anicca) is the root of our pain (dukkha). Stoicism, on the other hand, guides us to focus on what we can control – our thoughts and judgments – and to accept what we cannot, such as the reality of loss.
The synthesis of these ideas suggests that we can allow ourselves to feel the pain fully, without resistance, but we can also learn to loosen the grip of attachment to these feelings. It’s about recognizing that while the pain is real, clinging to it as a fixed identity or resisting its natural ebb and flow can prolong our suffering.
Having been there, in the deepest sorrow, I have come to understand that detachment is not the absence of love, but the absence of clinging. We can love deeply and cherish the memories without being bound by an attachment that leads to endless suffering. By acknowledging the impermanent nature of all things, as Buddhism teaches, and by focusing on our inner resilience, as Stoicism advocates, we can learn to let go of the intense pain, not by forgetting our loved ones, but by carrying their memory with a sense of peace and acceptance.
This is not a sudden shift, but a gradual process of understanding and allowing. Be gentle with yourself, and allow yourself to grieve, but also consider that within these ancient philosophies lies a potential for finding a more natural way to navigate your pain, a way that honors your feelings while also allowing for healing and eventual peace.
With deepest compassion,
Raffaello
When the Buddha pointed out death happens in every family by asking for a seed, isn't that more or less the same as Epicurus (edit : correction Epictetus) saying we should note our reaction to death which happens in other families and we should see our own in that light?
The Bhagavad Gita says that the "wise grieve neither over the living or the dead", but it's not something you can say nowadays when a tragedy occurs even amongst people that esteem it.
Personal grief is understandable and sorry for your loss. While compassion is part of Buddhist belief would it also be true that it is psychopathological to believe the four noble truths of Buddhism end in the cessation of suffering? Or have I misunderstood?
I interpret the story of Kisagotami to be about her delusional belief about her dead son, and that the task the Buddha gave her was designed to release her from that belief.
I think you're thinking of Epictetus, not Epicurus here, but perhaps I'm wrong.
I think Epictetus' mistake is that he thinks because we can bear the deaths of people unknown to us without grief, we should therefore be able to do so for our loved ones. I think this discounts the meaning those loved ones have for us, and does so unreasonably.
As for Buddhism, it all depends on what one thinks dukkha is and what one thinks the cessation of dukkha is. That's a difficult topic beyond the scope of this article.
"I think Epictetus' mistake is that he thinks because we can bear the deaths of people unknown to us without grief, we should therefore be able to do so for our loved ones. I think this discounts the meaning those loved ones have for us, and does so unreasonably".
Unreasonable or from a different sphere of concerns?
60. Long is the night to the sleepless; long is the road to the weary. Long is worldly existence to those who do not know the sublime truth.
61.
62. Sons are mine, riches are mine, so they suffer vexation. When even his self is not his own, how then sons, how then riches?
Dhammapada Chapter 5
There was a book written on the relationship of mothers to their children in a Brazilian favela, where infant mortality was very high. Which found that they sort of hedged their bets on the likelihood of their children's survival, in which profound grief came off as a bourgeois indulgence.
https://www.ucpress.edu/books/death-without-weeping/paper
Not saying grief is unwarranted, but that there are other legitimate perspectives
Epictetus' method for helping people bear grief is unreasonable. There are other methods, such as the Pyrrhonist method, which are reasonable.