Epicureanism = religion for sociopaths

I have been really into the famous stoic Marcus Aurelius recently. Part of trying to become more aware of my emotions means that I am suddenly sometimes swimming knee deep in terrible emotions, without any practice dealing with any of it or making sense of it. Marcus Aurelius has been a good way to get more zen about things. Quotes like:

"When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly. They are like this because they can’t tell good from evil. But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own — not of the same blood or birth, but of the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness. Nor can I feel angry at my relative, or hate him. We were born to work together like feet, hands, and eyes, like the two rows of teeth, upper and lower. To obstruct each other is unnatural. To feel anger at someone, to turn your back on him: these are obstructions."

And:

"The only thing that isn’t worthless: to live this life out truthfully and rightly... patient with those who don’t.”

In a similar vein, a reader rights about the appeal of Epicureanism for sociopaths:

This one is a long read, but I think you'll enjoy it.

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/08/08/110808fa_fact_greenblatt?currentPage=all

Apparently Machiavelli was an Epicurean. Epicurean philosophy: materialist, rational, pleasure-oriented and pro-social. It is very different from Catholocism/Christianity.

Personally, Stoicism appeals to me more. It is basically the same philosophy, but with more emphasis on self-control in all situations. But if you are happy and full of joy and wonder, it is a lot easier to be nice.

If you always remember that you've only got right now to live - and that you'll be dead forever - that makes it a lot easier to be nice to oneself and others.

A selection:

Anyone who thought, as Lucretius did, that it was a particular pleasure to gaze from shore at a ship foundering in wild seas or to stand on a height and behold armies clashing on a plain—“not because any man’s troubles are a delectable joy, but because to perceive what ills you are free from yourself is pleasant”—is not someone I can find an entirely companionable soul. I am, rather, with Shakespeare’s Miranda, who, harrowed by the vision of a shipwreck, cries, “O, I have suffered / With those I saw suffer!” There is something disturbingly cold in Lucretius’ account of pleasure, an account that leads him to advise those who are suffering from the pangs of intense love to reduce their anguish by taking many lovers.

Fearing the ego assault

I have a person in my life who I am helping to be able to do well on a particular standardized test. Part of doing well on this particular test requires a high level of critical/rational/logical thinking. This person struggles in a very consistent way at this type of thinking, filling in gaps with inferences and facts of his own creation -- a sort of magical thinking, really, but not a rare struggle. We two can spend a good deal of time on a question, debating until he finally sees where he went wrong. But 30 minutes later he makes the same error. At first he came up with reasons why he might be doing it. Now he doesn't bother to come up with any explanations or excuses, he's just frustrated. More than that, he's a little afraid of what it all means. The last time it happened he said, "I just wonder, have I been doing this the whole time?" It's like when you realize that you have a piece of spinach on your teeth, and now you rewind through the whole day, mortified, thinking who must have seen it and said nothing. As much as people say they don't like change, perhaps the most difficult part of deciding you were in error and changing is to acknowledge the error and the ego death that comes along with it.

Excerpts from "Art of Living", regarding the philosophy of stoic Epictetus, via Brain Pickings:

 The wisest among us appreciate the natural limits of our knowledge and have the mettle to preserve their naiveté. They understand how little all of us really know about anything. There is no such thing as conclusive, once-and-for-all knowledge. The wise do not confuse information or data, however prodigious or cleverly deployed, with comprehensive knowledge or transcendent wisdom. They say things like “Hmmm” or “Is that so!” a lot. Once you realize how little we do know, you are not so easily duped by fast-talkers, splashy gladhanders, and demagogues. Spirited curiosity is an emblem of the flourishing life.
***
Arrogance is the banal mask for cowardice; but far more important, it is the most potent impediment to the flourishing life. Clear thinking and self-importance cannot logically coexist.
***
The first steps toward wisdom are the most strenuous, because our weak and stubborn souls dread exertion (without absolute guarantee of reward) and the unfamiliar. As you progress in your efforts, your resolve is fortified and self-improvement progressively comes easier. By and by it actually becomes difficult to work counter to your own best interest.

By the steady but patient commitment to removing unsound beliefs from our souls, we become increasingly adept at seeing through our flimsy fears, our bewilderment in love, and our lack of self control. We stop trying to look good to others. One day, we contentedly realize we’ve stopped playing to the crowd.

This is maybe just the sort of thing that someone would read and say, sociopaths are not capable understanding or thinking these sorts of thoughts, and perhaps not if the particular sociopath lacks self-awareness. But doesn't it seem more likely (at least in a way) that someone with a weak sense of self would brave the ego assault that is self-introspection than someone with a rigid sense of self?

Fear of death?

This funny exchange with a reader:

Hey, it recently hit me that most people don't can't think about death without getting really bothered. 

E.g. you're going to die. If you have kids, they'll all die. Families, races, countries and species all die out. 

Nothing lasts forever.

I suspect a good test as to whether or not someone is sociopathic is can they take the facts - the incontrovertible facts of life - stoically.

Can you imagine going up to a mother with a little kid and saying, "what a nice kid! Too bad he'll probably be dead in 80 years or so. I sure wish he'd live forever - but you know how life is."

I can remember being a kid and black kids would taunt me by saying, "yo mamma." I'd say, matter-of-fact, "I don't have a mother. She's dead. She killed herself when I was 3." They often felt sad and apologized to me; it made no sense to me. One minute they were insulting me, the next minute feeling sorry for me.

Ha, hilarious. Did your mother really kill herself when you were 3? Can I publish this?

It is all true. Yes, you can publish the whole thing.

My experience of it was of misunderstanding. I didn't hate the black kids for being verbally aggressive, too personal and insulting. I thought they were a bit robotic with their insults - the black kids would reflexively say, "yo mama." Of course, it turns out I was the robot.