Key Concept
God as God – The phrase “God as God” is basically a synonym for “God the subject.” In other words, it refers to God precisely in God’s status as an incomprehensible divine Other.
Can you think of some ways that social media, advertising, political rhetoric, or pop culture in general distort what’s actually important in life or what’s really true?
Perhaps the first things that come to mind are “fake news” stories that get circulated online, email scams, false advertising, or dishonest negative political ads. But the distortion can be more subtle. A distortion of reality isn’t necessarily something straightforwardly false or deceptive. Many distortions of reality are oversimplifications or partial truths. Indeed, these are often the more effective and dangerous distortions.
Consider an advertisement for some hair product or other fashion-related merchandise. The message of the ad might be that the product will make you seem attractive to people. In many cases that might be true. But what the ad doesn’t mention is that there are many other similar products that might make you just as attractive or that might work even better. At an even deeper level, the ad might make it seem that being attractive to people is something that’s extremely important for living a happy and fulfilled life. But is that true? How important are fashion products to a truly happy and fulfilled life? We can agree that being attractive is something good. But aren’t there many very attractive people who are deeply unhappy? And aren’t there many people who wouldn’t be considered very attractive by pop culture’s standards that are nevertheless living genuinely satisfying and fulfilling lives?
The Allegory of the Cave is a story designed to encourage us to see beyond the popular opinions and conventional ideas and values that distort our vision of reality.
Plato (ca. 425 – 348 BC) was an ancient Greek philosopher of immense influence. A student of Socrates and teacher to Aristotle, he communicated his thoughts through philosophical dialogues designed to get their readers to engage in philosophical thinking. The questions raised in his dialogues continue to shape philosophy today.
Socrates is a main character and philosophical hero in most of Plato’s dialogues. That is the case with the selection from Plato’s dialogue the Republic that you’ll read below. In the Republic, which is one of Plato’s longest dialogues, Socrates retells a conversation he had about the nature of justice, the human soul, the state, and philosophical education. In the portion of the dialogue below, Socrates is describing his conversation with Glaucon, one of Plato’s brothers. If Plato is one of the most well-known philosophers, the Allegory of the Cave, which you’ll be reading, is probably the most famous passage in any philosophical text. If you’re interested, the whole of Plato’s Republic is available here.
Allegory – An allegory is a symbolic narrative where characters, events, and/or settings represent abstract ideas or convey deeper meanings beyond the literal story. Socrates tells such a symbolic narrative in the passages below. The characters, events, and setting of his narrative symbolize the effect of what he calls “education.”
Education – Socrates says that the allegorical story he tells represents the effect of education on human nature. “Education” here is a translation of the ancient Greek word “paideia,” which means “education” in the widest sense of the term. “Paideia” doesn’t mean “education” in the sense of going to school or getting good grades. Instead, it refers to the process of becoming a wise, intelligent, good, and well-rounded human being.
Understanding – Socrates describes education as turning one’s “understanding” in the right direction. The word “understanding” here translates the ancient Greek term “to phronēsai,” which means “understanding,” “being conscious,” or “having insight.” Socrates in the passage below speaks of “understanding” as an ability humans have that can focus on different things. People who are wicked focus their “understanding” on how best to accomplish their selfish and narrow desires. Those who are wise, in contrast, have learned to focus their “understanding” on what is truly good and beneficial.
The Visible – By “the visible,” Socrates means those aspects of the world we can perceive with our five senses and our imagination—those aspects of the world we can see, hear, taste, smell, touch, and imagine. For example, with my eyes I can see the sky, trees, people around me, and so on as visible things. “The visible” is the world insofar as it can be perceived and imagined.
The Intelligible – Socrates uses “the intelligible” to name the aspects of the world that we can only grasp through thinking or insight. With my eyes I can see the tree outside my window, but what it means to be a tree is something I can only comprehend in thought. Likewise, I can see the people around me, but human nature, human dignity, and what it means to be human is something I can only grasp conceptually. “The intelligible” is the world insofar as it “makes sense” and can be comprehended.
The Form of the Good – Socrates characterizes the ultimate goal of education as coming to know “the Form of the Good.” The Form of the Good is his technical term for the meaning of goodness: what it is to be good. Thus, when Socrates says that the goal of all education is knowing the Form of the Good, what he means is that the goal of all education is to know what it means to be good. And Socrates is clear that this “knowledge of the Good” is not simply theoretical knowledge, but also knowledge in the sense of “knowing how”: knowing how to achieve what’s good, to do what’s good, to accomplish what’s good. After all, a wise and intelligent person is someone who knows how to live a good life, make good choices, give good advice, and so on. Mere “book knowledge” or simply being smart is not enough.
Socrates begins Book 7 of the Republic by recounting an allegorical story he told to Glaucon and the people who were listening to their conversation. Since the story creates a picture in words, Socrates describes it as an “image.” Socrates says that this imagistic and imaginative story represents the effect of education, and the lack thereof, on our human nature. The story starts by describing the strange life of some prisoners chained in a cave.
Book 7, 514a-515c
And now, I said, compare in an image the sort of effect education and the lack of education have on our nature. Behold! human beings living in an underground cave, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the cave; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see what’s in front of them, being prevented by the chains from even turning their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised pathway; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the path, like the screen puppeteers have in front of them, above which they show their puppets.
I see, said Glaucon.
Then see also people passing along the wall carrying all sorts of objects that project over the wall: statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various other materials. As one would expect, some of these people are talking, others are silent.
You are describing a strange image, said Glaucon, and they are strange prisoners.
They are like us, I replied. Do you think they see anything of themselves or one another except the shadows on the wall in front of them that are cast by the fire?
How could they, he said, if they were never allowed to move their heads?
What about the objects being carried? In the same way do they see only the shadows of these objects?
Yes.
And if they are able to speak with one another, don’t they hold that these shadows before them are what is real?
Very true.
And what if the prison had an echo from the wall facing the prisoners? Do you think that whenever someone passing by spoke or made a noise, the prisoners would believe that the passing shadow uttered the sound?
No question about it, by Zeus, he replied.
People such as these, I said, would believe the truth to be nothing except the shadows of manufactured objects.
Necessarily.
Take a look at this brief animation in order to see the sort of cave Socrates is describing:
Having described what life is like in the cave, Socrates then asks Glaucon to consider what would happen if one of those prisoners was freed from his chains and saw the fire and the puppet-like statues.
Book 7, 515c-515e
Consider, then, what the healing of their ignorance and the releasing of their chains would be like, if naturally something like the following were to happen to them. Whenever someone was released and forced suddenly to stand up, turn his neck around, and walk and look up towards the light, while doing all these things he would feel sharp pain. And because of the brightness he would be unable to make out the objects whose shadows he had seen before. What do you think he would say if someone told him that what he saw before was unimportant, but now, because he is a little nearer to reality and turned more to the things that are, he sees more correctly? And what if someone, pointing out each thing passing by and asking him about it, forced him to answer about what each thing is? Don’t you think he would be confused and believe that the things he saw before were truer than the things now being shown to him?
Yes.
And if someone forced him to look at the light itself, wouldn’t his eyes hurt? And turning back to the things he was able to clearly see, wouldn’t he flee and believe that those things were in reality clearer than the new things being shown to him?
That’s how it would be, he said.
The whole story about the prisoners in the cave and what it would be like if one of them were freed is meant to represent what education in the broad sense is like. In other words, the story is meant to portray what learning to be a wise, good, intelligent, and well-rounded person is like. Socrates emphasizes how painful and disorienting this kind of learning can be. The prisoners in the cave have a view of reality where all that is real are two dimensional shadows on the cave wall. Once freed, they are forced to perceive a whole new dimension to reality—the puppet-like statues and the people holding them are three-dimensional. Furthermore, their eyes have to get used to seeing things that are bright and colorful, rather than shadows, which are dark. This whole experience is painful and disorienting. Everything the prisoner thought was real and important turns out only to be a shadow of the realities he now perceives. Moreover, the prisoner’s body is not used to perceiving the world in this new way and finds it painful.
What do you think becoming a truly wise, intelligent, virtuous, and fulfilled person takes? Does becoming that sort of person mean going through some radical changes in perspective? Does becoming that kind of person require going through some painful and disorienting experiences?
So far, the prisoner has been released and has seen what’s going on in the cave. But what if someone were to try and lead him out of the cave into the world above? What that would be like is what Socrates describes next.
Book 7, 515e-516e
And if, said I, someone dragged him by force up the steep, rugged, and upward path, and didn’t let go until he was dragged out into the light of the sun, would he not be in pain and angry at being dragged like that? When he came into the light his eyes would be dazzled, and he wouldn’t be able to see any of the things now called realities.
Not right away at least, he said.
I suppose he’d have to grow accustomed to the light if he were going to see the things in the world above. At first he’d see the shadows most easily, next the reflections of people and other things in the water, and then the things themselves. From there he would gaze upon the light of the moon, the stars, and the sky by night, more easily than looking at the sunlight and the sun.
Certainly.
Last of all, I expect, he’d be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of it in the water or in some other medium, but he would be able to look at the sun itself in its own place, and to contemplate what sort of thing it is.
Necessarily.
And after this he’d now proceed to conclude about the sun that it is that which gives the seasons and the years, and is that which governs all things in the visible world, and is in a certain way the cause of all things that he and his companions saw.
It is clear, he said, he would see things in this order.
What next? When he remembered his former life in the cave, the wisdom there, and his fellow prisoners, don’t you think he would pity them and consider the change that happened to him a happy one?
Certainly, he would.
And if there were then any honors or prizes those in the cave gave to one another for the person who was sharpest at seeing the shadows passing on the wall, and to the person who best remembered which shadows usually came before others, which came after, and which at the same time, and as a result was most able to predict what was going to happen next, do you think that he would envy and esteem the people who were honored and had power in the cave? Or wouldn’t he say with Homer: “Better to work the soil, a slave of a poor master” (Hom. Od. 11.489), and to endure anything, rather than believe what they believe and live as they live?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than believe or live as they do.
Socrates’ comments prompt us to consider the way people in the cave, and those who are freed from the cave, view their own happiness. He suggests that while the people in the cave think they are happy as they live their lives and guess which sorts of shadows are coming next, people who make it outside the cave realize that life in the cave was in fact miserable, and that people still in there are anything but happy.
If the people in the cave can believe they are living happy lives when they are in fact living miserable and unhappy lives, then it is possible for people to be mistaken about their own happiness. The sort of “happiness” and “misery” Socrates has in mind here can’t simply be a feeling. The people in the cave, at least those who are good at predicting the shadows, doubtless feel pretty good about themselves. “Happiness” here means something deeper, like true fulfillment or overall well-being. Is what Socrates suggesting possible? Is it possible for people in the cave to believe they are living truly happy and fulfilled lives, but be completely wrong about that, due to their lack of knowledge about the sort of life possible outside the cave?
What about you? Is it possible for you to be mistaken about whether you are living a truly happy and truly fulfilling life? Could a change in perspective alter your views about what it means to live a happy, fulfilled, or good life?
The prisoner has been freed from the cave. But Socrates’ story isn’t over! What if the prisoner went back down into the cave and sat back in his original chair, facing the shadows on the cave wall. How would his journey outside transform his experience of life in the cave? How would the other prisoners receive him?
Book 7, 516e-517a
Consider the following as well, I said. If this person coming back down were to sit in the same seat again. Having come suddenly out of the sun, wouldn’t his eyes be filled with darkness?
To be sure, he said.
If he were once again forced to compete with those who were always prisoners, forming judgments about the shadows while his vision remained weak—before his eyes had fully recovered, given that the time needed to get used to the darkness would not be very short—wouldn’t he appear ridiculous? Wouldn’t people say that he ascended and returned with ruined eyes, and that it’s not worth even trying to go up out of the cave? And if they somehow managed to catch the man who attempted to free and guide others upward, wouldn’t they kill him?
No question, he said.
Socrates points out that someone returning to the cave after living in the world above would appear ridiculous to the prisoners in the cave. He’d report to the prisoners that there’s a fire and puppets casting the shadows, that there’s a whole world outside the cave, that which shadows come next on the wall is not at all important, and that only life outside the cave is truly happy. This would all sound crazy to the prisoners. They’ve only experienced the shadows and have no concept of things like fire or puppets, much less some world outside the cave.
Having told the whole story, Socrates now explains to Glaucon what the story means. The cave represents “the visible”—the aspects of the world we perceive with our five senses. What is outside the cave, in contrast, represents “the intelligible”—the meaning in the world we experience, the aspects of reality that we understand and grasp rationally. Finally, the sun outside the cave represents the Form of the Good.
Book 7, 517a-518b
Then, my dear Glaucon, I said, this entire allegory must be related to what we said before. The region which visibly appears should be likened to the prison-house. The light of the fire within it corresponds to the power of the sun. And you won’t miss my expectation, since you’re eager to hear it, if you compare the ascent and the act of seeing what lies above the cave with the soul’s journey toward the intelligible region. Perhaps a god knows whether this is true. In any case, this is how it appears to me: when it comes to what is known, the last thing to be known, and only with difficulty, is the Form of the Good. But once it is seen, we must conclude that this Form is, in fact, the cause of all that is right and good in everything. In the visible, the Form of the Good produces light and light’s ruler, the sun. In the intelligible, the Form of the Good, itself being ruler, produces truth, intelligence, and whatever else is necessary for anyone to know who intends to act prudently, whether in private or in public.
I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you.
Let us agree to this too, I said. Don’t be surprised that those who reach such a point are not willing to concern themselves with human affairs. Instead, their souls are always impelled to spend their time above. This is likely if it aligns with the image I previously described.
Yes, likely.
Do you think it would be surprising, I said, if someone, having transitioned from divine contemplations to human evils, appears unseemly and exceedingly ridiculous? Imagine him, still with dim vision and not yet fully accustomed to the surrounding darkness, compelled to argue in courts or elsewhere about the shadows of justice, or about the objects that make the shadows, engaging in disputes about how these things are conceived by people who have never beheld justice itself.
Anything but surprising, he replied.
If someone were intelligent, I said, he would recall that there are two types of disturbances affecting the eyes. One occurs when transitioning from light to darkness, and the other when moving from darkness to light. Now, if we extend this idea to the soul, whenever we encounter a confused soul struggling to perceive anything clearly, we shouldn’t laugh irrationally. Instead, we should ponder whether this soul, having come from a brighter life, is currently in darkness due to lack of familiarity. Alternatively, perhaps she has moved from a state of greater ignorance to one more enlightened, and the brilliance dazzles her. In such a scenario, we might consider the first soul happy in her condition and life, while feeling compassion for the second. And if we were to laugh at the second, it would be less a scornful laugh than even our amusement at the soul descended from the light above.
That, he said, is a very appropriate distinction.
In the passage above, Socrates explains how his cave allegory maps on to his “Divided Line” from the end of Book 6 of the Republic. The Divided Line charts different aspects of reality and the faculty or ability we have by which we relate to each aspect. “The intelligible” refers to the aspects of reality that we understand and conceptualize, while “the visible” refers to the aspects of reality that appear to sense perception and imagination.
Socrates thinks we relate to the visible and perceivable things of our everyday experience—the tables, chairs, houses, trees, and so on—through trust or belief. We have a trust or a confidence in the things we perceive around us. We are confident we can use them or interact with them in other ways, and that trust is what allows us to live our everyday lives as we interact with the world we perceive. He divides “the visible” aspect of reality into two: there are the visible things we perceive around us and there are images of those visible things, such as reflections, pictures, or images we imagine in our minds.
The intelligible aspect of reality is the various meanings and truths that we understand, conceptualize, and reason about. Socrates divides this intelligible aspect of reality into two. In the bottom half of the intelligible division, there are abstract concepts like those studied in mathematics, geometry, and similar disciplines: for example, the triangles we conceptualize when we do a geometry problem. In the top half of the intelligible division Socrates puts the Forms, which are the fundamental meanings of things: for example, triangularity itself or what it means to be a triangle, justice itself or what it means to be just, humanity itself or what it means to be human, and so on. The top of the line and the most fundamental Form is the Form of the Good or what it means to be good.
Finally, Socrates explains how his cave allegory is a metaphor for the effect that education has on human nature. As humans, we have the power of understanding—the ability to see what’s true and make sense of our experience. We can orient our understanding to figuring out what is true and good, or we can turn it to more narrow and small-minded ends, such as figuring out how to be rich, powerful, well-liked, and so on. Socrates argues that true education is the process of orienting our understanding to what is true and good.
Book 7, 518b-519b
If true, I said, it is necessary for us to think the following about these things: education is not what some people profess it to be. I suppose they claim that they put knowledge into the soul that isn’t already in it, like putting sight into blind eyes.
That’s what they claim, he replied.
Whereas our present argument shows that this power and instrument of learning is in the soul of each person already. And just as the eye was unable to turn from darkness to light without turning the whole body, so too the whole soul must be turned from becoming to being, until the soul is able to look up and contemplate the brightest aspect of being, which we claim is the Good, right?
Yes.
So there would be a skill focused on this turning of the soul, I said. This skill would aim to facilitate the easiest and most efficacious way to accomplish this conversion. It’s not a skill concerned with producing sight in someone. Instead, it assumes that sight already exists but is not properly oriented nor looking at what it should be, and works to bring about the proper orientation.
That’s likely.
Then the other excellences of the soul, as they are called, are probably nearer in being to those of the body. For in reality, they are not present at first, but later are produced through habits and training. The excellence of understanding, however, is more than anything something divine, it seems. Its power is never destroyed, but by being turned becomes either useful and beneficial or useless and harmful. Have you ever noticed the case of people who, on the one hand, are said to be wicked, but, on the other hand, are said to be wise? The sharp sight of their petty souls keenly observes the things toward which they are turned, since they don’t have poor vision. But compelled to serve vice, the sharper their vision, the more evil they accomplish.
Quite so.
But the power of understanding is of such a nature, I said, that if it were from childhood hammered straight and if its kinship with becoming were cut off—feasts and such pleasures and luxuries that have become attached around the soul, turning its vision downward like leaden weights—if having been freed it were turned around to what is true, then this same understanding that belongs to human beings would begin to see what is true most sharply, just as it currently discerns the things toward which it is turned.
Very likely.
As Socrates stated at the beginning, the point of his cave story is to show the effect that education, in the broadest sense, has on human nature. As he finishes explaining the meaning of his story, he challenges a common conception of what education and learning are. At his time, just like today, many people thought of education as putting information into someone’s mind. On this model, the teacher presents some new knowledge, and the pupil receives that knowledge into his or her soul.
Socrates, however, rejects this view of education. As Socrates sees it, education isn’t about one person putting information into someone else’s mind. Instead, education consists in turning the soul so that it can see new things and have new insights that it hasn’t had before. These new insights, as the cave allegory suggests, often enable one to recontextualize and to achieve a more complete interpretation of all of one’s previous experience. The job of the teacher isn’t to put new knowledge into the student’s mind. Rather, the job of the teacher is to lead the student to achieve new insights on his or her own. Likewise, the job of the student isn’t to passively receive what the teacher says, but instead to actively seek to understand what the teacher is trying to communicate. In sum, education is the reorientation of one’s whole life toward seeking the truth.
Plato’s Allegory of the Cave is one of the most powerful images in the history of philosophy. It’s as relevant today as it ever has been because it articulates a fundamental reality of human nature: the fact that we are born ignorant, need education, and the fundamental challenges one must face in order to become wise. The allegory emphasizes the transformative power of education, urging us to seek the true, good, and beautiful beyond the shadows of conventional ideas and popular opinion.
Check out this video on the Allegory of the Cave and its relevance today:
For another take on how Socrates understands philosophy and living a life built around the pursuit of truth, you can read Plato’s Apology. Or for the larger discussion in which the Allegory of the Cave is embedded, read Plato’s Republic as a whole. If you are interested in learning more about the life and philosophical views of Socrates or Plato, take a look at articles on them in the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy or the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
This work has been adapted from the Republic, a title from Cleveland State University’s Michael Schwartz Library Pressbooks Collection. This work is in the public domain. All images were created using Midjourney and are the property of the Philosophy Teaching Library.
Wiitala, Michael. 2024. “The Allegory of the Cave: Plato’s Republic, Book 7.” The Philosophy Teaching Library. Edited by Robert Weston Siscoe, <https://philolibrary.crc.nd.edu/article/allegory-of-the-cave/>.
God as God – The phrase “God as God” is basically a synonym for “God the subject.” In other words, it refers to God precisely in God’s status as an incomprehensible divine Other.
Incarnation – The Christian doctrine of the incarnation is the notion that the word of God became fully human in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. It is closely associated with the doctrine of the trinity, which asserts that God the Father, God the Son (Jesus as the word made flesh), and God the Holy Spirit are one God.
Religious Fanaticism – In Feuerbach’s use of the term, a religious fanatic is someone who is unwaveringly faithful to God as an utterly mysterious superhuman being. They subordinate other things—especially the love of other humans—to submission before this divine other.
God the Subject – When Feuerbach refers to God as a subject, he is referring to the commonplace religious belief that God is a being who has various attributes, like a loving nature.
Faith Separates Man From God – Faith separates God from man in this sense: it treats God as a mysterious other, a being radically distinct from us.
Faith – Belief in and fidelity to a transcendent divine subject like God.
Orthodoxy – Orthodoxy refers to “right belief,” and it is concern with identifying heresies and ensuring that people believe and practice correctly.
Indirect Form of Self-Knowledge – Feuerbach’s view is that religious belief is a naive way of relating to our human nature and its perfections. It is naive or childlike because it treats these as external realities that belong to God. He believes a mature and contemplative person realizes these don’t belong to God, but rather to our species, abstractly conceived.
Above the Individual Man – The human perfections are “above the individual” insofar as no particular individual ever perfectly realizes them. They are abstractions.
Divine Trinity – Feuerbach is having fun here. He is using the theological phrasing of the Trinity to talk about human perfections. In calling reason, love, and freedom of the will “divine,” he means they are absolutely good; they are activities whose goodness is intrinsic to their practice or exercise. This isn’t a novel philosophical view. For example, Immanuel Kant argued that autonomy or a good will is the only thing which is unconditionally good.
Perfections – The end to which a faculty or power is ordered. For example, omniscience would be the perfection of the intellect. Traditionally, God is said to possess all perfections.
Love – When Feuerbach writes about love, he is referring to unconditional concern for others and the desire for fellowship with them. He is here asserting that love, understood in this sense, is the perfect activity of the affective faculty. In other words, our feelings and passions are fully actualized and engaged in an intrinsically valuable activity when we genuinely love others.
Infinite – The infinite is whatever can be understood as unbounded or unlimited. Human nature in the abstract is unbounded and unlimited. It is only bounded or limited in its concrete form as it is realized by particular material individuals.
Higher Consciousness – The sort of consciousness that mature human beings possess, but which other animals do not. It is “higher” than animal consciousness because it involves thinking abstractly about the form or essence of things.
Science – Feuerbach uses the term science in its classical sense, meaning systematically organized knowledge. Any body of knowledge founded on an understanding of first principles and the essences of things is a science in this sense.
Popular Sovereignty – The view that a government’s authority to rule comes from the people, making a ruler subject to the will of their citizens.
The Divine Right of Kings – The theory that kings are chosen by God and thus that political revolt is a rebellion against the will of God.
Synthesis – The prefix ‘syn-’ means “together,” so a synthesis “brings together” or combines elements of both a thesis and its antithesis.
Antithesis– An antithesis is the contradiction of a thesis. For example, internationalism could be understood as the antithesis of nationalism.
Thesis – In Hegelian terms, a thesis can be understood as a position or theory. Examples include any of the “-isms” that we discuss in science, history, and philosophy, such as Darwinism, capitalism, nationalism, etc.
Progressor’s Temptation – a unique temptation for those making progress in which pride impedes their further progress and leads to backsliding.
Progressors – those who are not yet expert Stoic practitioners, but who are also aware of the fact that they must change their lives in that direction. They are working on making progress.
Intellectualism – the philosophical view that our motivations and emotions are all judgments. The reason why you do something, your motivation, is because you believe it’s the right thing to do. The reason why you feel good or bad about something, an emotion, is because you believe that something good or bad happened to you.
Duties – acts of service, obedience, and respect that we owe to each other. The duties we owe to each other depend on what kind of relationship we have.
Askeses – exercises of Stoic thought and practice that make the lessons and habits of Stoic philosophy second-nature for Stoic practitioners.
Externals – things that are not under our control but that are all-too-easily confused with things that should be important to us, like wealth, status, and pleasure. Too many people believe externals like these are necessary for the good life, and the Stoic path is to focus not on these things but rather what is up to us.
The Fundamental Division – the division between things that are under our direct control and those that are not. The important lesson is to care only about the things we can control.
The Greatest Happiness Principle – A principle which says that actions are right insofar as they promote happiness and wrong insofar as they promote unhappiness
Higher and Lower Pleasures – Types of pleasures that differ in terms of their quality. Things like food and drugs create lower pleasures. Things like intellectual pursuits and doing the right thing create higher forms of pleasure.