CHAPTER 9

Akrasia and Enkrateia in Simplicius’s Commentary on Epictetus’s Encheiridion

Marilynn Lawrence

… it is said that Socrates was always seen in the same demeanor, and never moved by things that seem pleasurable and painful, because he always lived out one and the same life, his own.

—Simplicius, in Epicteti Encheiridon
(tr. Brennan and Brittain [2002: 89])

Introduction

Is it possible to knowingly err? In other words, can someone possessing knowledge of correct action willingly chose otherwise? Socrates did not think so, or at least that is how his position is characterized in the Protagoras. Making sense of this argument has been labeled by contemporary Socratic scholars as the problem of akrasia.¹ In this niche of Socratic philosophy, Socrates’ denial of akrasia and Aristotle’s response to it in the Nicomachean Ethics have been well discussed, producing numerous interpretations of the argument that no one willingly chooses to do what he or she knows to be an error or a worse action.² The primary problem centers upon the fact that Socrates denies the possibility of weakness of will, or even the idea that reason can be overtaken by pleasure. Strikingly, this view seems to be in direct contradiction to the commonsense notion not only that such weakness does exist but also that often human beings act counter to what it is they know to be good. This sticky problem of akrasia is also related to another commonly discussed topic in Socratic studies, “Socratic intellectualism,” where virtue is identified with knowledge. As most can readily understand, Socratic intellectualism and its links to the philosopher’s infamous denial of akrasia threaten to make Socrates susceptible to the accusation that he ignores the role of emotions and richer psychological considerations in moral decision making.³

The problem of akrasia is further complicated by the fact that in the Nicomachean Ethics, book VII, Aristotle attributes different views to Socrates and Plato, by placing the denial of akrasia upon a historical Socrates, rather than Plato’s fictional character. By accepting a good portion of the Magna Moralia as authentically by Aristotle, Irwin amplifies Aristotle’s position with this direct contrast between Socrates’ intellectualist position and Plato.⁴ From the Magna Moralia, we have the following:

For [Socrates] used to make the virtues sciences, and this is impossible. For the sciences all involve reason, and reason is to be found in the intellectual part of the soul. So that all the virtues, according to him, are to be found in the rational part of the soul. The result is that in making the virtues into sciences he is doing away with the irrational part of the soul, and is thereby doing away also both with passion and moral character; so that he has not been successful in this respect in his treatment of the virtues. After this Plato divided the soul into the rational and irrational part—and in this he was right—assigning appropriate virtues to each. (Tr. George Stock)⁵

Attempts to make sense of this intellectualist position along with the tripartite soul in Republic IV have involved drawing upon the categories of early, middle, and late dialogues, in which the Socrates of the relatively early works such as Protagoras is more reflective of a historical Socrates.⁶ Another tactic is to suppose that Socrates did not really deny akrasia but drew the argument out to its conclusion so as to result in an aporia. A third approach, taken by Dorter, is to reconcile the Republic with early Socrates by emphasizing both the aporetic nature of the Republic and Socrates’ subtle critique of three divisions of the soul whereby manifestations of reason, spiritedness, and appetites are on a continuum rather than reflecting discrete parts of the soul, for the true soul is undivided.⁷ On this view, book IV presents a model of the soul that is for the majority, while for those (such as Socrates, perhaps) who have obtained vision of the true as illustrated in book VII’s cave metaphor, “weakness of will is no longer a danger because it is a vision that cannot be attained by a divided soul.”⁸

While contemporary philosophers struggle to make sense of Socrates’ denial of akrasia, the issue left its indelible mark on the philosophers following Socrates and Plato. Aristotle, the Stoics, and Neoplatonists such as Plotinus arrived at their own positions on akrasia and its opposite state of enkrateia or self-control. Nevertheless, it was the later philosopher Simplicius who attempted (successfully, I think) to harmonize seemingly disparate views, by saving the phenomenon (that one can knowingly err) while preserving Socrates’ intellectualist position. He does so through his commentary on Epictetus’s Encheiridion, which aims at the very practical enterprise of training young philosophers in the acquisition of virtue. For both Epictetus and Simplicius “the divine Socrates”⁹ serves as the paradigm of one who desires only that which is reasonable. Throughout his reading, however, Simplicius draws a distinction between sages like Socrates and the rest of us aspirants, who must first form proper habits in the soul before the reality of akrasia can be denied.

Aristotle on Akrasia

As mentioned above, Aristotle thought that Socrates’ denial of akrasia contradicts the phenomenon. Unlike Socrates, Aristotle accepts that someone can be knowingly led by pleasure to do the worse thing. But, as for Socrates (and for Plato), for Aristotle some actions are done out of ignorance of the good. Having already made distinctions among types of ignorance in EN III, in EN VII¹⁰ he takes up the phenomenon unexplained by Plato’s Socrates by making distinctions of types of knowledge, vices, and weaknesses of will. He also addresses moral responsibility, which is virtually omitted in the Socratic account of akrasia. Threatened by the notion that akrasia can happen on the basis of belief or opinion rather than knowledge, Aristotle makes the argument (also made in the Eudemian Ethics)¹¹ that akrasia involves knowledge rather than mere opinion. A definition of akrasia cannot be based on pure ignorance (never having learned)—that would count as a different cause for wrongdoing. Rather, one can knowingly do wrong by employing a distinction between two types of knowledge—general knowledge, and exercise of that knowledge in a given opportunity.¹² Gerson described it aptly as “a disconnect between belief in the universal proposition and belief that it applies to oneself or to oneself now.”¹³

Akrasia involves a responsibility for one’s actions, even if impairment prevents one from remembering the general knowledge that was previously acquired, for the conditions that result in impairment were formed out of habits that might have been otherwise if knowledge had been exercised earlier in character formation. Actions arising from anger or appetite (thumos and epithumia, EN 1111b2) are not, according to Aristotle, involuntary,¹⁴ and akrasia arising out of these is similar to the forgetting of knowledge in sleep, madness, or drunkenness.¹⁵ Even in these states, Aristotle claims, possession of knowledge can be mimicked like actors reciting lines. Rather than being a temporary state like drunkenness, akrasia appears to have a more permanent nature. It is notable that throughout this discussion Aristotle refers to types of persons with a certain character or moral disposition, rather than to specific instances of self-control or lack of self-control within a given individual.

Continuing on this account, akrasia (notably translated as “Imperfect Self-Control” by D. P. Chase in the mid-nineteenth century)¹⁶ is the middle ground between those who are utterly depraved (either the criminally insane or those who practice evils as a custom)¹⁷ and a person of perfect self-mastery (ὁ σώφρων) who lacks strong or bad passions that need to be controlled. The akratic character is further distinguished from those who believe they are correct to pursue a pleasure (although it is an incorrect course of action) and those who are entirely lacking in self-control (ὁ ἀκόλαστος, 1146b20). The akolastic person is worse than the akratic and incurable.¹⁸ Aristotle also notes a difference between two main types of akrasia: the deliberative sort, and the impulsive nondeliberative or “precipitancy” akrasia.¹⁹ This difference is primarily one of temperament: the former is slower and allows deliberation but does not act on it due to weakness, whereas the latter, having a quicker and more melancholic²⁰ nature, does not allow time for reason to kick in and stop the impulse. Melancholic akrasia is more curable than the deliberative akrasia, though Aristotle does not say how this is so.²¹

Akrasia Following Plato and Aristotle

On the surface, the Stoic position on akrasia appears to be uncomplicated. For the early Stoa, at least for Chrysippus, Socrates’ denial of the existence of akrasia is defended, for the soul is unified and rational, and the passions are rational as well.²² The passions, by this theory, are judgments that involve assent to impressions, but they are false judgments because they deem something good or bad, whereas due to universal providence, nothing that happens is really good or bad, for only our impressions make it seem so.²³ Plutarch attributes to Chrysippus what Joyce calls the “oscillation model,” in which competing judgments in one unified soul convert from one to the other so quickly that they seem to be competing parts or faculties of the soul, giving the appearance of reason being dragged along by the appetites.²⁴ In reaction to the criticism of this position (most likely from the Platonic school), the middle Stoics Posidonius and Panaetius modify this position and accept the possibility of akrasia. In Cicero’s account, Panaetius separates impulse from reason, thereby allowing for irrational decisions.²⁵

The influence of Socrates on the Stoics cannot be denied, and, as Gill (and Sedley) have pointed out, there is evidence that the early Stoics made a clear distinction between a Socratic and Platonic influence on the development of their psychology.²⁶ However, Gill sees in the Republic books VIII and IX an antecedent for the pervasiveness of rationalism in Stoic psychology. The clearest influential idea from Plato in this regard is “that psychological stability and cohesion are confined to those who are fully rational or ‘wise,’ whereas the non-wise are more or less conflicted and unstable.”²⁷ The boundary between Plato and Socrates on “intellectualism” becomes blurred when we consider that akrasia may only be possible for the non-wise, making the commonsense understanding of weakness of will for the majority (the non-wise) more prominent in Plato.

If the early Stoa denied the existence of akrasia, Epictetus appears to agree with them and asks, “Can someone, then, think that something is advantageous to him, and not choose it?”²⁸ He quotes the famous passage from Euripides’ Medea (1078–1080) that Galen says was also used by Chrysippus:²⁹

I know what evils I intend to do,
But thumos is the master of my purposes.³⁰

For Epictetus, Medea thought “gratification of her thumos in taking vengeance on her husband [to be] more profitable than saving her children.”³¹ In short, she gave consent to wrong impressions.³² While it appears that emotions have got hold of the rational faculty, it is really a matter of two conflicting beliefs or impressions, and not reason being dragged about by emotion. The belief held by Medea that it would be better to kill her children could be corrected if pointed out to her (and only if pointed out to her) that this would really be less advantageous.³³

While Epictetus may have endorsed Socratic intellectualism³⁴ and agreed with the early Stoics on the Socratic denial of akrasia, he differed from them in his ethical approach, for he is more concerned with educating the fallible human being than with extolling the virtues of the perfect sage.³⁵ His discourses were directed at his young students, and include advice (grounded on his Stoic and Socratic philosophy) on numerous problems encountered in the day-to-day life of such students. Long argues that Epictetus gives his students techniques for preventing assent to deceptive or subjective impressions; he encourages us to delay acting upon them, or to engage in dialogue with them, thereby allowing an alternative representation to arise if necessary.³⁶ His pedagogical goals are less ambitious than attaining the status of sage but are far more manageable and relevant.

Moving on to the next century, Plotinus does not address the problem of akrasia in a direct manner. Nevertheless, Gerson finds an account of akrasia in which Plotinus borrows insights on the topic from Stoics and Peripatetic philosophers.³⁷ Very briefly stated, for Plotinus there are voluntary desires (directed toward the good) and involuntary desires that arise out of one’s self-identification with the composite self that, through embodiment, contains a mixtures of good and evil because of its turning toward matter. So weakness of will has its source in a person’s ignorance or forgetting of one’s true self that has only rational desires (for the Good). Gerson notes, “Whether the confusion [over one’s identity resulting in akrasia] is chronic or sporadic or even remediable is a secondary question.”³⁸ These questions are ones Aristotle addressed to a degree, but as we’ll see, by synthesizing the Socratic, Platonic, Aristotelian, and Stoic accounts, Simplicius fills in the gap by more extensively addressing these issues in his work dedicated to the moral education of young minds.

Strikingly, though Plotinus does speak to the Socratic problem of the existence of akrasia, whether it is possible to knowingly choose the worse over the better, he does not speak of it in a direct manner. In fact we could draw out from his positions on the virtues and on freedom of the will two levels of akrasia, one in which akrasia is impossible and another where it is very possible. The issue depends on what knowledge means and who is doing the knowing. From the perspective of the intellectual principle, the soul possesses knowledge or gnôsis when in complete identification with it,³⁹ making the choice to do wrong impossible. There would be no pull between the right action and apparent goods since full knowledge would show the lesser good for what it is—not the Good. However, since emotions do arise and guide actions for the embodied, akrasia does exist from the perspective of the soul, which has attachment to both the higher Nous and the lower material cosmos. Plotinus’s solution for extrication from situations of a faltering will is to achieve perfection of the soul through contemplation of the Good. Unlike the advice of Epictetus, this is not necessarily a practical solution for daily affairs and struggles of the will, and the state of gnôsis may be just as scarce as the Stoic sage (who is as rare as the Ethiopian phoenix even for the Stoics).⁴⁰ Nevertheless, Plotinus believes that a life of flourishing (eudaimonia) in the truest sense, one lived in the realm of the intellect, is possible for a human being and not just the gods.⁴¹ He describes such a person in his treatise “On Virtues” (Enn. 1.2), someone comparable to Aristotle’s person of complete self-mastery (sôphrôn). The ethical and civic virtues (politikai aretai) are not sufficient for obtaining this state of being, whereas purgative virtues (kathartikai aretai) cleanse the soul of identification with the body and the passions that arise out of this association.⁴² When purified, akrasia is not possible because the soul draws itself away from the body and will not desire anything but the good:

It hinders spirited passion (thumos) as much as possible, entirely if possible, but if it cannot, at least then it does not join itself to the anger, relegating the involuntary as something other than itself, and it is minimized and weakened…. And what about desire (epithumia)? It clearly will desire nothing bad; it will not itself have desire of food and drink in respect of indulgence, and in no wise of sexual pleasures. If it does hold any desires, I think, it is of natural ones, and not those that are involuntary.⁴³

Turning to later antiquity, Proclus does not choose akrasia as a theme in his works, but we do find in his discussion of providence (Dec. dub.) a metaphysics accounting for weakness of will. On this account, an all-powerful providence is the cause of all good things due to its alignment/identification with the One. The gods (the coproducers to the demiurge in the Timaeus) exercise providential care over the things they produce, while leaving some of the administrative tasks to the daimons.⁴⁴ Proclus argues that it is absurd to think that the gods are capable but not willing to do what they are capable of doing. Likewise, persons who are good are both capable and willing to do good. They do not have a will to do what they are not capable of (in the case of akrasia, doing the worse action), nor do they have a capacity without a corresponding will to use it.⁴⁵ We do not get from this a sense of whether akrasia can arise, because Proclus is speaking of the good who are among us (τῶν ἀγαθῶν τῶν παρ’ ἡμῖν) and not how they realized their goodness.

We do, however, obtain a metaphysical explanation for akrasia in his discussion of why evil exists, and more specifically that which is outside reason and evil in souls (Dec. dub. 30). Here, Proclus notes that when the mortal part of us gains the upper hand of the immortal or divine in us, vice results. Thumos (spiritedness or anger) and epithumia (desire) are in themselves natural and are a natural part of beings given an irrational part. The rational part also naturally acts according to reason. The clash of both parts just doing what they do naturally results in evil, but an evil with a derivative existence (παρυπόστασιν) rather than existence of its own. Being beyond or amiss with reason makes it evil, but being a result of natural tendencies makes it not evil. Everything is transformed by its superior when it becomes subservient to it, but if the irrational wishes to be self-moved (and not moved by reason), it loses its participation in the good. Furthermore, Proclus holds that this conflict between the rational and the irrational is a necessary part of the providential whole, and “the activity contrary to reason exists so that reason may act according to reason.”⁴⁶ In the location where Proclus directly mentions akrasia (in his commentary on the Republic) this point is reiterated—akrasia is the result of a contention between reason (logos) and emotion (pathos), and it is both bad and not bad for it makes reason what it is.⁴⁷

Simplicius’s Education for the Akratic-prone

Turning now to Simplicius, at first glance it may seem odd that this Aristotelianizing Platonist should choose a Stoic work, Epictetus’s Encheiridion, as the sounding board for his own moral philosophy. The reasons for this are discussed by others,⁴⁸ but besides the fact that the Handbook appears to fit well as an introduction to the Neoplatonic curriculum, it is likely that he targeted a similar audience to that to which he thought Epictetus directed his work.⁴⁹ The commentary is not for a philosopher who has obtained wisdom (for she would have no need for such a guide) and is not for the “ordinary person” (ἰδιώτης)⁵⁰ who has not made necessary lifestyle changes to pursue philosophy, but is for those who are in an early to intermediate stage of commitment toward becoming philosophers (and have shown some progress). These individuals are, for Simplicius, those who have embarked on an education to care for the soul and who are holding “their essence in accordance with a rational soul and using the body as an instrument.”⁵¹ Socrates served as the exemplar for such students, not only as someone who lived as his true self and held this proper or “natural” relationship to the body but also as one who provided the arguments for this understanding of the human being per se (Alcibiades I, 129c ff.)—Simplicius outlines this argument in his commentary’s introduction.⁵²

Turning now to the commentary itself, Simplicius notes that Epictetus is correct to begin the Handbook with the issue of what is or is not up to us (ἐφ’ ἡμῖν) as the central question for ethical philosophy; for “according to this we partake of the good and its opposite.”⁵³ When we desire things that are not in our control, we become distressed and tend to blame others and “those who control the universe” (τοὺς τὰ ὅλα διοικοῦντας), while foregoing something that is up to us, namely, our ability to correctly desire and avoid.⁵⁴ He agrees with the Stoic that we shouldn’t care to obtain such things as honors and wealth that are generally outside our power, but he doesn’t think we should remove desires altogether.⁵⁵ Some desires we should remove, while others, such as a desire for marriage or property, should be deferred until one’s moral education is complete.⁵⁶ Some irrational desires can be useful for leading a virtuous life when under careful control of the rational soul. However, the care or attention paid to the body and other matters not up to us distract us from care of the soul. Someone who cares for money does not care for the genuine human being [ὁ ἀληθῶς ἄνθρωπος]⁵⁷ who uses the body as an instrument, but merely for an instrument of an instrument.⁵⁸ Postponing worldly matters, which have a place in a virtuous life, removes these distractions so that care of the soul can solidify and become habitual and the rational part can prevail throughout one’s life.

The basic tenet of philosophy, to know thyself, in this context means to know the capacity of a human being. This is a fundamental step toward achieving the good life. Simplicius argues that the life of the earnest/good person (σπουδαίου) is more beneficial and pleasant than that of the licentiousness person. By way of demonstration, he uses the notion that the intemperate person (ἀκολασία) can change to be more temperate (σωφροσύνη), but the reverse doesn’t happen such that the temperate become intemperate. Therefore, temperance appears to be a greater and more desirable good to the temperate person than licentiousness is to an intemperate person.⁵⁹ Intemperance is then curable through philosophical education—at least up to a point. Training of the soul early in life is character shaping. Early formation of good habits by practicing avoidance of harmful or unnecessary pleasures, or of false or lesser goods, provides exercise of reason over the lower passions.

What, then, was Simplicius’s position on akrasia, on the existence of, definition of, and possible remedy for weakness of will? In the Handbook commentary, he refers to akrasia three times, in reference to weak-willed people (ἀκρατέσι), a “disposition called lack of self-control” (ἀκρατὴς ἡ διάθεσις λέγεται), and “considerable lack of self-control” (πολλῆς ἀκρατείας).⁶⁰ He mentions the opposing disposition of self-control (ἐγκράτεια) a total of nine times.⁶¹ In the scope of his commentary, self-control, weakness of will, and its treatment is a prominent theme throughout. In fact, Simplicius thrice quotes the famous lines from Medea (already mentioned above) used by both Chrysippus and Epictetus: “I know what evils I intend to do, / But thumos is the master of my purposes.”⁶²

Simplicius first uses these lines when speaking of the necessity to possess wisdom in order to know what is beneficial or harmful to the good life. Medea’s struggle represents an error in judgment that can occur in two ways: through a lack of practical wisdom resulting in reason’s not determining or defining (διορίζοντος) what should be done, and by reason knowing what is necessary to do “even when weakened” (or slackened) (εἰ καὶ ἀτόνως), though the irrational appetites (ἀλόγων ὀρέξεων), not being educated (ἀπαιδευσίαν), successfully rebel against reason in its weakened state. The first case where reason does not grasp the right thing to do would not be akrasia proper, which requires knowledge, but the second explanation is akrasia since reason is overcome or enslaved by the irrational desires. Akrasia occurs when the soul is partially educated (reason is in operation but not fully in control), but has not graduated with a degree in sôphrosunê.

The second mention of the lines from Medea occurs when Simplicius is commenting on chapter 5 of the Encheiridion, in which Epictetus says: “It is the act of an uneducated person to throw the blame of his own bad state of affairs upon others; of one beginning to be educated to fault himself; and of one perfectly educated, neither upon another nor himself.”⁶³ Here we have three levels of education corresponding to the possibility of akrasia. Simplicius asks why the person whose education is under way, a person who knows that the good and bad are in our control and who correspondingly blames himself, would err in the first place. He answers that the “irrational emotions do not always become measured and harmonious and subordinated to reason,” especially when “through the laziness and lethargy of reason and the continuous motion of irrationality, the emotions have become muscular and tyrannical.”⁶⁴ This situation he attributes to Medea. On this view, in order for a cognizant weakness of will to occur, two conditions are necessary: a weakening or laziness of reason to act according to its knowledge of good and bad; and a surging power of the irrational appetites or passions. The person of the first disposition, who blames others, however, does not even have a conception of rational and irrational, so she easily mistakes good from bad like the uneducated youth who despises his teacher for depriving him of some pleasure or another.⁶⁵ Akrasia and enkrateia don’t enter the picture for the person of the third disposition, who never blames anyone, for that person’s irrationality has been conquered by full rationality. Reason always acts in accordance with knowledge for this person, who always obtains what she desires and what is in her own control because she only desires the good. While Simplicius’s acquaintanceship with Aristotle’s ethical works is not overtly demonstrated in his exegesis of the Handbook, one can immediately see the parallel between his (and Epictetus’s) understanding of these three levels and Aristotle’s distinctions between akolasia, akrasia, and the self-mastery of the sôphrôn. Simplicius, however, doesn’t distinguish between the deliberative and impulsive sorts of akrasia, for it appears that the impulsive sort of akrasia happens in an earlier developmental stage prior to any moral education. Following Epictetus, Simplicius puts matters of self-mastery in terms of education, so that the akolastic (or the impulsive akratic) disposition, particularly in youth, can yet be changed by embarking on the path of philosophical instruction. Several times he refers to the emotional part of the soul as the “childish part in us” (παιδικὸν),⁶⁶ denoting a state of immaturity that is not permanent but correctible. Nevertheless, the window of opportunity for this education seems to narrow as one gets older and becomes more inclined to pursue matters external to one’s own control. A disposition toward certain desires and behaviors then solidifies into one’s character.

The third time that Simplicius quotes Medea is in his discussion of chapter 6, in which Epictetus instructs us to not exult in advantages that are not our own. Someone who takes pride in his beautiful horse is exulting not in his own excellence but in that of the horse. What we do have of our own is the use of impressions (χρῆσις φαντασιῶν). “So when you would have use of impressions according to nature, at that time you should be elated.”⁶⁷ Simplicius asks what he means by natural use of impressions and concludes that this use is “the desire and aversion for goods and bads, when they occur in accordance with nature,”⁶⁸ and furthermore, he might mean that “our deeds should be consonant with true beliefs and desires.”⁶⁹ In other words, merely having a correct belief is not sufficient; it must be reflected in our conduct. Otherwise, when these desires are “faint” and mixed with opposing desires, the irrational passions overcome reason as they did for Medea. Putting knowledge to practice is indispensable in the soul’s education, for practice makes perfect.

If those prone to akrasia have their education under way, the same holds for the counterdisposition of enkrateia. Simplicius notes Epictetus’s choice of this word over more perfect virtues such as sôphrosunê: “For things that seem pleasant, God gave the soul self-control. Epictetus did not say ‘temperance,’ but rather ‘self-control’ because this advice is directed to those who are still being educated. In their case, the emotions are still aroused and in dispute with reason, although they are worsted by it when the education is effectual.”⁷⁰ Likewise, for the fully educated there is the virtue of courage or manliness (ἀνδρεία), but for the partially educated there is endurance (καρτερία).⁷¹ Those possessing courage labor on without experiencing distress, while those with endurance fight through painful situations, and this “keeps the soul from falling down” (ποιοῦσα μὴ καταπίπτειν τὴν ψυχὴν).⁷² Simplicius defines temperance (σωφροσύνη) as “the preservation (σωτηρία) and superiority (ὑπεροχὴ) of that in us which thinks (φρονοῦντος). (For when the thinking part is subjected to the emotions, it is divided and torn apart by them; but when it transcends the passions then it remains safe and whole [ὁλόκληρον].)”⁷³ This completeness of parts (ὁλόκληρον) echoes Plato’s concern with wholeness of the soul,⁷⁴ for Simplicius emphasizes throughout this work that the real soul is the rational, while the irrational emotions, tied to the body, are concerned for the instrument rather than the true self.⁷⁵

A Tense Soul and an Ethical Disposition

On a certain level, contra Socrates’ denial of akrasia, for Simplicius it is possible to know the right thing to do but to fail to do it as reason is overcome by baser appetites. He is not speaking of perfect or complete knowledge of the Good that translates into practical wisdom. As stated above, akrasia becomes impossible for individuals who possess such knowledge and can effortlessly put it into practice. To acquire such a permanent disposition,⁷⁶ however, requires more than knowledge of good or bad. It requires three interrelated activities: remembrance, the development of an “ethical disposition,”⁷⁷ and conditioning in order to produce a taut soul.

Simplicius points to Epictetus’s frequent use of the instruction “Remember” (Μέμνησο) and has the following to say about it: “He addresses it to the rational soul, which, though it has accounts of the real existents joined to its essence (since the truth about them is innate in it) is sometimes lacking in the intensity (ἀτονοῦσαν) required for pure vision owing to the pull of its power to engage with becoming. Hence it is degraded to forgetfulness—the cause of everything bad in it—and needs to hear continually the phrase ‘Remember.’”⁷⁸ In this classically Platonic interpretation, remembrance (or recollection) takes on the power of revealing to the soul its true nature, and the knowledge and vision of the Good that it already possesses, while forgetfulness is the source of all badness in a soul. Simplicius draws upon the Phaedrus in this matter,⁷⁹ for he describes this pull as the wheeling around (τῷ περισπασμῷ) that is like the circular motion Plato describes as carrying immortal souls around to the rim of the heavens, “as they stand while they gaze upon what is outside heaven.”⁸⁰ On the way around the cosmic Ferris wheel, the soul “has a view of Justice as it is; it has a view of Self-control; it has a view of Knowledge.”⁸¹ Due to forgetfulness, some souls cannot keep pace with the god they follow and do not see anything true before shedding their wings and falling to earth.⁸² Unfortunately, for the souls who never caught a glimpse of the Good, the philosophical education may never take hold because memory of knowledge “of what really is what it is” (τὴν ἐν τῷ ὅ ἐστιν ὂν ὄντως ἐπιστήμην οὖσαν, Phaedrus 247e) is weak or nonexistent.

Added to this Platonic account of remembrance is the Stoic theory of tension and slackness in the soul. For Cleanthes, tension is a property of the fiery logos that maintains the cosmos, and it is related to the soul, and for Chrysippus good tension (eutonia) is a virtuous state, while lack of tension (atonia) is a vicious state.⁸³ Simplicius uses a concept of tension or intensity and its opposite of slackness or lack of intensity a number of times in the commentary,⁸⁴ two of which have been mentioned already: in the first, reason knows what to do but may be slackened, giving the irrational emotions the opportunity to take over the decision; and in the second case, lack of intensity (ἀτονοῦσαν) is a cause of the soul’s falling into forgetfulness. In a passage commenting on envy, jealously, and desire for honors, Simplicius points out that someone who is lacking tension in the soul would be prone to jealousy over another’s power, reputation, or attainment. On the other hand, someone with intensity or tension is competitive and may experience envy or rivalry (ζῆλος), which unlike ill-willed jealousy (φθόνος) can be good: “Envy is good and akin to love of the good when its object is virtue, but bad and co-ordinate with jealousy when the object is an external thing.”⁸⁵ Certain attitudes and behaviors can cause a weakening of tension, such as aiming to attain things that are not up to us⁸⁶ and trying to accomplish large matters rather than applying oneself to mastery of small things.⁸⁷ Simplicius also thinks that slackness can be corrected through (at first strenuous) exercise of the soul, and he believes that in sending human souls into the world of generation and decay, God granted human souls powers “through which they can make use of the snares and distractions in that realm without being harmed by them.” And further, “God sets frequent contests for souls, and sets exercises for these powers so that they don’t grow slack or lose intensity through idleness, and come to grief when the occasion calls for their use.”⁸⁸ Or, as the modern adage goes, “God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle.”⁸⁹ Just as Theseus and Heracles were vaulted into greatness by extreme trials, Simplicius counts Socrates (along with Diogenes) as a soul who has been propelled (προώθησε) by God to the “extremes of simplicity and the natural life.”⁹⁰ Quite interestingly, the simple life led by Socrates is characterized here as one requiring intensity of the soul rather than slackness or idleness.

Exercises of the soul in its akratic-prone stage of education are directed to the purpose of habituating oneself to reason’s control over the irrational passions and appetites. This habituation preserves the “ethical disposition.” Enstasis is used by Simplicius in a special sense, meaning to be inside oneself rather than turning to the externals or to irrational passions.⁹¹ The word he chose also has a sense of origin or beginning, so preservation of one’s inward-directed disposition is akin to remembering one’s celestial origins while operating amid the ordinary. The educated individuals who have preserved enstasis are not disturbed by disorderly external things (as in Epictetus’s example in chapter 12 of spilled oil or stolen wine) “because they remain within themselves, and render the external things orderly through the order that is in themselves.”⁹² The development of this ethical disposition involves exercise of reason over the emotions until it becomes a habit, not a “second nature,” so to speak, but one’s true nature that is sometimes forgotten: “For it is mostly sudden and unexpected things that disturb students in the beginning and drive them out of themselves and make them forget their ethical disposition (ἐνστάσεως). Whereas considering things in advance makes us sober and remember, and prepares us through habituation (συνεθισμῷ) for difficulties in our impressions and expectations.”⁹³ Simplicius also calls this ethical disposition the “philosophical disposition” (φιλόσοφον ἔνστασιν), which “aims to turn to oneself and the superior beings” in order to become a good person.⁹⁴ Certain passages in the Encheiridion are geared toward preparing the would-be philosopher for the difficulties of maintaining one’s inward disposition in the face of bullies and “ordinary” people. Epictetus begins chapter 22 with the statement, “If you set your heart upon philosophy, then prepare yourself straight away to be derided and mocked by many people.”⁹⁵ Simplicius adds that some students leave the ranks of those engaged in philosophical pursuit out of fear of being mocked, and so undo their ethical disposition and return to their former habits (συνήθη).⁹⁶ He notes here that when Epictetus is advising the philosopher-to-be, he is no longer speaking to those beginning a moral education but speaking to those who have made a commitment to philosophy, which is “the greatest of the gifts from God to men.”⁹⁷ This commitment means living in such as way as to avoid activities of the ordinary person (ἰδιώτης) whose life is guided by the irrational appetites and passions. “So the reasonable person should decline feasts for ordinary people (ἰδιωτικὰς) that are outside, i.e., of his own ethical disposition.”⁹⁸

Simplicius is engaged with a work and a philosopher very much concerned with providing a solid theoretical approach to everyday problems. While all of these exercises of the soul may seem remote from Socrates’ original formulation that akrasia is impossible, it is rather a continuous extension of the idea, but with eyes wide open to the realities of human fallibility. That no one errs willingly (or knowingly) remains true for the “true” self that is recollected through these exercises. The “false” that which is dragged about by irrational desires is not relevant to Socrates’ definition of akrasia, for this self is not the knowing agent. This knowing self, however, is not always (or even usually) apparent while one behaves as an untrained “ordinary” person. Using the virtue ethics of Aristotle and Epictetus, Simplicius bridges the Socratic ideal and the realities on the ground.

A Concluding Note About Philosophical Education

Simplicius finds occasion in this commentary to lament about the antiphilosophical political culture of his time, particularly of unjust states and worthless governments that are “harmful to souls and especially suppress divine illumination.”⁹⁹ He offers a glimpse into the pedagogical situation in his day; and as is the case today, it seems that few people actually bond themselves to the study of philosophy in its truest sense, as a practice to better oneself and society through the pursuit of wisdom. Simplicius paints a picture of akratic and akolastic dispositions proliferating among the “ordinary people.”¹⁰⁰ Taking his cue from Epictetus’s own advice, he exhorts the philosophy student to avoid “ordinary people” in social situations in order to protect progress made toward self-control and some degree of wisdom. The pedagogical goal of Simplicius and Epictetus was to impress on the young students knowledge of truth, rather than opinion of truth, as well as values that sustain that truth. Due to the influence of Socrates, they both maintain a rationalism (that the true soul is rational), but they also acknowledge that few people can readily recognize the Good from apparent goods, and require training and instructions on day-to-day affairs. For Simplicius this training is like military boot camp, in which the mind rather than body is conditioned and habituated to maintain a “tension in the soul.” This would result in a state of preparedness when encountering situations that may lead one from the path of wisdom. In this regard, Simplicius is in agreement with Aristotle’s emphasis on habituation in the formative years to form an ethical character.

Nevertheless, we get from this picture that philosophical education in antiquity either was not abundantly available or was not valued by the majority. Philosophy has the appearance of being both an “elite” profession and a subject to ridicule.¹⁰¹ So the situation for philosophical training in self-control (enkrateia) if not in perfect wisdom and temperance (sôphrosunê) seems rather bleak.

However, Simplicius is optimistic that anyone of sane mind has the potential to recognize truth. Of the two things that are in our control, reason and the irrational emotions, reason is the “Hermes common to all”:¹⁰²

For even if the reason internal to each of us differs numerically from that in others, still it is one in form, inasmuch as everyone is drawn to the same goods, and avoids the same bads, and takes the same things to be true through reason, and conversely takes the same things to be false, with the result that the reason that is in each person is a criterion for judging the good and the bad and the true and the false. The reason in each of us strives for forms that are incorporeal and undivided and always are in the same state and self-same manner—for instance temperance, justices, and practical wisdom. (Tr. Brennan and Brittain, slightly modified)¹⁰³

Not everyone will agree with the ultrarationalism of Socrates or the modified rationalism of Simplicius, or of any Platonist for that matter. This would hold particularly true today on the issue of the downgrading of the body and emotions. In spite of differences in culture and in the philosophical temperaments of late antiquity and today, the life of Socrates and the instruction manuals of Epictetus and Simplicius remain relevant for teaching philosophy, as long as philosophy is still considered to be a pursuit of wisdom rather than mere exercises in logic and critical thinking.