Being Real Without Really Existing

The Stoic's were a pretty clever bunch

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Stoic physics and ontological theory aren’t often discussed in (mainstream) contemporary Stoic communities, which is a shame because they are really interesting and present a lot of clever ideas that are fun to turn over in the mind. The focus of this week’s edition will be on the nature of stuff that exists (and other very real stuff that doesn’t) 🤔

The Stoics were Materialists, which means they believed everything which existed had a material form — that is to say, “was a body” (a body being something can act, or be acted upon).

However, the Stoics took Materialism to a level it had never (as far as I know) been taken: to the level of ontological theory.

Everything being a body seems easy to dismiss, right?

Our thoughts aren’t a body, are they? Our words? The virtues themselves? Ideals like honor and courage, these things aren’t bodies… are they? And what about empty space and voids? How can these things be bodies?

Well, let’s see. How about we start with the void, with nothingness?

G’mork, servant of The Nothing in Michael Ende’s “The Neverending Story.” Not the nothingness I’m talking about, but an opportunity of warm nostalgia cannot be passed up.

The Stoics say that the void doesn’t exist, but that it is both real and something.

But how could these brilliant ancient thinkers, whose wisdom cannot be denied, utter such a seemingly nonsensical and contradictory statement as, “X doesn’t exist, but it is something real?”

The reason is, first, that the phrase isn’t nonsensical at all because, second, the Stoics were really good at asking the sort of questions that required others (and themselves) to question their understanding of certain words (and whether those understandings were, in fact, limited and lacking).

One such question was an early version of, “If we’re standing at the edge of existence, and we extend out our hand to reach beyond that edge, where could it go?”

This wasn’t how they worded it but, because they believed the Universe started out as a tiny condensed ball of energy, which then expanded outwardly, they felt certain that beyond the border of “existence” there necessarily had to be something — and that this something must be real.

If I can reach into what I perceive to be nothingness, nothingness must, at the very least, be something real even if it doesn’t “exist” (which it couldn’t, for the Stoics, as it doesn’t have a body).

“Something” is a taxonomic category of “realness.”

There are subcategories of such realness: corporeals and non-corporeals.

Corporeals are real, exist, and have bodies.

Non-corporeals are real, do not exist but subsist, and do not have bodies.

The void, then, is a something which does not exist, which does subsist, which has no body, and which is real.

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Our understanding of “real”, “exist”, “something”, and “nothing” aren’t as specific (or useful) as they used to be

What I have loved about the Stoics for as long as I’ve been studying their philosophy, is their use of words — how important words (like good or bad, for example), meant, to them, in their time, absolutely not what they mean to us now. This is, undoubtedly, the most considerable stumbling block when attempting to understand the philosophy of Stoicism.

However, once we know that definitions cannot be taken for granted — that modern definitions are rarely the endall beall of almost any word — we open ourselves up to being blown away by just how fiercely intelligent these ancient thinkers were.

Let’s pause for a quick review:

  1. A Something, must either be a Corporeal or an Incorporeal

  2. If a Something is a Corporeal, it has a body, it is real, and it exists

  3. If a Something is an Incorporeal, it has no body, it is real, and it does not exist

  4. If a Something is neither a Corporeal or an Incorporeal, then it a Not-Something, it does not exist, and it is real.

The taxonomic category of “Existing,” isn’t the only category of “Real.”

The genius of understanding these words in these ways, if it’s not obvious, is that doing so provides the ability to qualify something as “real” without having to hold it in our hands.

This is a critically important ability for a philosophy which claims, for example, that Justice is real while also claiming that only bodies exist because Justice doesn’t have a body and so doesn’t exist. It would be a real problem for Stoic ethics if “to not exist” also meant “to not be real.”

“Rather than fall into the Platonic trap of being forced to admit that the soul or justice or virtue do not exist, however, he is prepared to claim that all of these things exist and are indeed bodies. He also accepts Plato's characterization of existence as the capacity to act or be acted upon, but reserves this solely for bodies, against Plato's intention. Finally, he calls into question Plato's assumption that for something to be something at all it must exist. For Zeno, there can be real things that are not bodies…”

John Sellars, Stoicism, 4.4 (from the Ancient Philosophies series)

In fact, the Stoics suggest four types of entity that fit into this category of being "something" (ti) yet not being bodies: void, time, place and "sayables" (lekta). As they claim that only bodies exist, these other entities are in some sense real but cannot be said to exist. Instead, they are said to "subsist". Stoic ontology posits a supreme genus of "something" under which there are two subdivisions of existing bodies or corporeals and subsisting incorporeals (Alexander, in Top. 301,19—25): For the Stoics, then, existence or "being" is not the highest ontological genus. It is, contrary to Plato's assumption in the Sophist, possible for something to be something at all without having to assume that it exists.

John Sellars, Stoicism, 4.6 (from the Ancient Philosophies series)

Imagine you’re a shipwrecked nobody, an immigrant merchant from Citium, who washes up on the shores of Athens penniless and with no prospects, who is also (likely) unable to return to their country because of the mountain of losses they’ve just suffered (as a result of the shipwreck and the loss of its valuable cargo). Now imagine you decide to become a philosopher, at the ripe old age of 30, and, eventually, grow into such a competent one that you’re able to go toe-to-toe with Plato!

What an absolutely wild journey our “little Phoenician” (Zeno’s nickname) had during his lifetime — and what a thing to admire and be in awe of, as well.

A Not-Something does not exist, nor subsist, has no body, is not a Corporeal or Incorporeal, but, somehow, is still “real” 🤯

These things are things like limitations, concepts, and interpretations. Lucky for you, Not-Somethings bend my brain too far for me to unpack them competently here.

Instead, I want to turn things over to you to think on. I’d also like to encourage you purchase John Sellar’s book (linked here) and give it a read yourselves. It’s a bit pricey, such is the way of academic presses, but it’s a worthwhile investment (and no, that’s not an affiliate link, I’m recommending it because I think you’ll enjoy reading it).

That’s it for this week.

As always, use the poll below to let me know how you felt about this edition and (if you like) to share your longer form thoughts.

Thanks for reading. Take care.

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