Narrator: Imagine being a prisoner of war. For over seven years, you are held in the infamous "Hanoi Hilton," subjected to routine torture, isolation, and the constant, gnawing uncertainty of whether you will ever see home again. This was the reality for U.S. Navy Vice Admiral James Stockdale after his plane was shot down over North Vietnam in 1965. Yet, Stockdale not only survived but emerged as a leader, organizing resistance among his fellow prisoners and maintaining his own unbreakable sense of self-respect. How? He credited his survival to the teachings of a long-dead Greek slave-turned-philosopher named Epictetus.

This incredible story of resilience raises a profound question: can an ancient philosophy truly equip us to handle the most extreme challenges of modern life? In his book, How to Be a Stoic: Using Ancient Philosophy to Live a Modern Life, author and philosopher Massimo Pigliucci argues that it can. He presents Stoicism not as a dusty relic of history, but as a practical, actionable toolkit for cultivating resilience, finding tranquility, and building a life of meaning and virtue.

Narrator: At the very heart of Stoicism lies a simple but revolutionary idea: the dichotomy of control. This principle, articulated most clearly by Epictetus, states that some things in life are within our power, while others are not. What is in our power? Our judgments, our intentions, our decisions, and the actions that follow. What is not? Everything else—our health, our wealth, our reputation, and the actions of other people. The Stoic's primary task is to focus their energy exclusively on what they can control and to accept the rest with equanimity.

The life of Epictetus himself is the ultimate testament to this principle. Born a slave in the Roman Empire, his very name meant "acquired." He was physically crippled and owned by a powerful secretary to the tyrannical Emperor Nero. By any external measure, his life was devoid of power. Yet, Epictetus became one of the most influential Stoic teachers of his time. He understood that while his master controlled his body, he could never control his mind, his character, or his will. By focusing on cultivating his inner world, he achieved a freedom and tranquility that even emperors lacked. This is the promise of Stoicism: that our inner peace is not dependent on our external circumstances.

Narrator: If external things like health, wealth, and reputation are not within our control, what should we value? The Stoics answer with a single word: virtue. They argue that the only thing of real worth is a good moral character, expressed through four cardinal virtues: practical wisdom (knowing how to navigate complex situations), courage (acting well under pressure), temperance (mastering our desires), and justice (treating others with fairness and kindness).

To explain this, Pigliucci uses an analogy from Epictetus: life is like a game of ball. The ball itself—representing external events like getting a promotion, facing an illness, or losing money—is indifferent. It is neither good nor bad. What matters is how we play the game. Do we catch the ball with skill, diligence, and fairness? Or do we drop it, complain about its quality, and blame others for a bad throw? The Stoic aims to play the game of life with virtue, focusing on their actions and intentions, not on the ultimate outcome of winning or losing. Things like health and wealth are considered "preferred indifferents." It's natural to prefer them, but they should never be pursued at the expense of one's character.

Narrator: One of the most challenging Stoic ideas is its explanation for human evil. Following Socrates, the Stoics argue that no one does wrong willingly. Instead, harmful acts are the result of amathia—a profound kind of ignorance. When people act cruelly, unjustly, or selfishly, it is because they are mistaken about what is truly good for them. They may chase power, pleasure, or fame, believing these things will bring them happiness, but they are ignorant of the fact that true good lies only in virtue.

Pigliucci connects this ancient concept to the modern observations of philosopher Hannah Arendt during the trial of Adolf Eichmann, a key architect of the Holocaust. Arendt expected to find a monster, but instead, she found a shockingly ordinary, thoughtless bureaucrat. She coined the term "the banality of evil" to describe how Eichmann wasn't driven by deep-seated malice, but by a stunning lack of critical thought and an inability to consider the perspective of others. He was, in the Stoic sense, profoundly ignorant. This perspective does not excuse harmful acts, but it transforms our response from pure anger to a kind of compassionate pity, recognizing the wrongdoer as someone who is fundamentally "lamed in their judgment."

Narrator: Stoicism is divided into three disciplines, and the third, the Discipline of Assent, governs how we react to situations. It teaches us to pause between an initial impression and our judgment of it. When something happens—a colleague insults us, we get stuck in traffic, or we receive bad news—our first reaction is an involuntary "impression." The Stoic exercise is to step back and examine that impression rationally before "assenting" to it.

Pigliucci shares a personal story of being on the subway in Rome when his wallet was stolen. His initial impression was a flash of anger and violation. But he quickly applied his Stoic training. He recognized the event was outside his control. He couldn't change what had happened. Instead of letting anger ruin his evening, he focused on what he could do: calmly cancel his credit cards and reflect that the thief, in exchange for a small amount of cash, had traded away a piece of his own integrity—a far greater loss. By refusing to assent to the initial judgment that "this is a catastrophe," he preserved his tranquility and was able to enjoy the rest of his night with his family.

Narrator: In a culture that often avoids the topic of mortality, Stoicism confronts it head-on. The Stoics teach that death is not an evil, but a natural and inevitable part of life. To fear death is irrational, as it is a process we all must undergo. Epictetus compared it to a stalk of wheat: it grows, it ripens, and then it is reaped. That is its nature. Our task is not to avoid death, but to live well until it arrives.

This acceptance also informs the Stoic concept of the "open door," their term for rational suicide. This is not a casual endorsement, but a recognition that under certain, unbearable circumstances—such as a terminal illness with intractable suffering—choosing a dignified exit is a valid, final act of agency. Pigliucci points to the modern story of Betsy Davis, a woman with terminal ALS who, under California's End of Life Option Act, chose to end her life. She did so not in a moment of despair, but with careful planning, hosting a two-day farewell party for her loved ones before taking a prescribed drug cocktail. Her choice, made from a place of reason and love, reflects the Stoic view that the option of the "open door" can empower us to endure hardship, knowing we retain ultimate control over our own exit.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from How to Be a Stoic is that this ancient philosophy is not about suppressing emotion or grimly enduring hardship. It is a deeply practical and compassionate guide to living. Its central project is to shift our focus away from the chaotic, uncontrollable events of the external world and onto the one domain where we have absolute sovereignty: our own mind. By cultivating virtue, mastering our judgments, and accepting what we cannot change, we can build an inner citadel of peace and resilience that no misfortune can breach.

The book's most challenging and impactful idea is that philosophy is something you do, not just something you read. It demands practice. As a final thought, consider one of the simplest Stoic exercises, recommended by Epictetus: the evening reflection. Before you sleep, ask yourself: "How have I erred today? What have I done? What have I left undone?" This small act of self-examination is the first step on the path to a more deliberate, tranquil, and meaningful life.