There aren't many books written on a philosophy of life as there are 'philosophies' for life out there; and there aren't many books that exist in the great divide between academic philosophy and water-downed caricatures of philosophy (think Consolation of Philosophy but PART TWO...). Mr Irvine's book, however, provides one fairly detailed philosophy of life as Stoicism goes and bridges the divide by not only describing what is Stoicism but also, how to practice Stoicism for both tranquility and joy in the context of our insane and insatiable consumerist culture amid other existential fears and anxieties.
Let me say this first: this is a timely book in view of the Financial Crisis of 2008 transforming into something Unknown and Monstrous for 2009 and beyond. Here, Mr Irvine's book contains not just sound advice for living amid hardship, but also useful tidbits of wisdom in the face of calamity and unrest. But as the Fates would have it, it may be all good but a tad too late.
Even so, Mr Irvine's book is part self-reflection, part 'what is Stoicism' (and who the Stoics were), and part how to be a Stoic. If you find yourself immediately put off by the word 'Stoic', don't. Mr Irvine has done marvelously well on explaining why the modern interpretation of 'Stoic' has been more of a misinterpretation than the lived reality of a good life: his reflection of those mundanely trivial but existentially heroic accounts of his own life suffice.
However, what I find singularly troubling is Mr Irvine's ambition in explaining Stoicism at an extremely high level of evolutionary psychology; that the Stoics techniques have been designed to short-circuit what might be the undesirable consequences of human evolution on "autopilot" to the ultimate demise of the human psyche and society (e.g. insatiable greed for security and an extreme one, an eye for an eye to ensure one stays as the Alpha Male for reproduction). But consistent to the claims of the evolutionary psychology one can also find himself inevitably suggesting that because Stoicism exists, it must have also been somewhat effective in increasing the chance for successful reproduction; that merely than short-circuiting anxieties, fears, greed and so on for 'short-term' tranquility, it also acts as a long term catalyst, if not a direct cause for successful reproduction. So is Stoicism a cure or a cause? Is it both? In trying to explain the causes of the symptoms Stoicism tries to cure via evolutionary psychology, Mr Irvine opens up new questions he was not prepared to answer.
In fact, what I find most satisfying, and also where the philosophical lore is the richest, are those direct and honest accounts of living as a Stoic in today's world. For example, in one of Mr Irvine's account of changing a 16 year old car for a 9 year old 'new' one with neither a radio nor a cup-holder brought a smile to my face--indeed, why do we need three jumbo cup-holders and 8000 channels on our car radios today? By 'downgrading', Mr Irvine suggests (he would probably use the word, 'simplifying') our materialistic lives, we are in fact 'upgrading' in virtuous Stoical character-building. I think I see Mr Irvine nodding.
Yet, Mr Irvine shies away from those difficult, pressing questions as the contemporary mouth-piece, if not a modern peer to philosophers like Seneca and Epictetus. Sure, one can see how a new Ferrari can disturb one's newfound Stoical tranquility and joy. But what if one is not choosing between a materialistic entity which works on the principle of decreasing marginal satisfaction (hence an increasing indifference, if not dissatisfaction ) and a virtuous good, but between two competing virtuous goods, for example, in being responsible to my children, spouse or parents and being responsible to the duties and commitments of the workplace? The ultimate good of both choices are no different than the Stoic version of the highest goods of tranquility and joy, yet one is often compelled to choose only one, assuming that an acceptable balance between the two means some compromise to this tranquility. To this ultimate competition of ultimate goods, Mr Irvine's Stoicism has nothing to say. This is not to say that Mr Irvine's account is a straw-man account. But very often, perplexities and anxieties in life has to do with the competition of virtuous goods, and not to the marginal acquisition of a Ferrari or a Renoir. Perhaps this was why Marcus Aurelius hastened his own death as a public servant-emperor, who most likely, had to choose between two competing goods as a Stoic.
In addition, what about those who collect Ferraris and Renoirs so they can appreciate their beauty? Because Mr Irvine assumes that crass materialism has solely been undertaken for the envy of our neighbors, Mr Irvine also misses the point that a good number of 'materialists' out there can also be aestheticians. Sure, Stoicism dismisses connoisseurship, especially connoisseurship that overly commits one to dependency on luxury, Mr Irvine argued. But surely a Stoic would not dismiss the appreciation of beauty through materialism as a path to Stoic tranquility and joy, as one may collect humble stamps and common vases, or grow roses?
Lastly, Mr Irvine's overall account tacitly position his interest in broadly speaking to a certain class of citizens in certain advanced capitalistic economies. Tacitly, I think he was speaking to the middle and upper middle class of the American society. I don't know if Marcus Aurelius or Seneca made that assumption, though both were reputably wealthy individuals who had SOMETHING they can imagine themselves losing and hence, feel content through the practice of negative visualization. But it is true that in the world today, there are many who have NOTHING to lose; that is, they are not even substantively well-off and have nothing but their own bodies to be exploited and harvested by others. To tell these folks about practising negative visualization is to also mock them. If so, does this demonstrate that Stoicism is a philosophy predicated upon the class structure? To some extent by the absence in Mr Irvine's depiction, yes. But since we know the classical Stoics were not unreasonable brutes, then we must commit to the possibility that something is lacking in Mr Irvine's modern account in an unreasonably unjust world. This, I suppose, would be up to the readers' own musing, for Mr Irvine has nothing to say to this regard.
Indeed, what Mr Irvine fails to mention--and I think if he did, aptly in a time like this--is that personal tranquility and joy may be necessary but not sufficient for a Good Life. Unlike the Greeks or the Romans who blissfully lived their circumscribed spheres thinking that theirs was the known world, Moderns can no longer afford the luxury of a the Good Life based on a Personal notion without relating to the Others (who often do not have it so Good). What we seem to need today, if Stoicism is indeed the philosophical practice for the Good Life, is not only to deflect insult for insult; or to abandon crass materialism for character-building; or to be justly indifferent to external circumstances, but in fact, to broadly engage these external circumstances in a fast-deteriorating and destructively spiraling external world we all inhabit, Stoics and 'materialists' alike. Mr Irvine lamented the demise of Stoicism after the Empire; but likely is the possibility that its notion of the Good Life is limited when Others don't have it so good.
Without such an engagement, even a Stoic may find it difficult to attain the Good Life.