“When you’re thus practiced and prepared to discriminate between what belongs to you and what doesn’t, what is subject to hindrance and what is not, and are ready to regard the latter as important to you and the former as irrelevant, then is there anyone, any more, you need be frightened of?” -Epictetus
Legal definitions of criminal recklessness across countries and decades have shared the common premise that in order for one to be considered reckless, one must acknowledge their behavior as such. In other words, the actor must actively recognize and consider their act to have been reckless, knowingly endangering themselves or others. Remaining less defined is that of what leads an individual to conscious personal or interpersonal endangerment. Among a range of influencers, one culprit in conscious endangerment, or uncalculated risk, could be the belief that a certain action will compensate for whatever is perceived as lacking. Demonstrated in both the major and the trivial, recklessness, or willful indulgence in non-beneficial acts is, of course, not limited to criminal contexts; binge consumption and shortsighted, spite-driven decisions are broadly-accessible examples. Unchecked desire invites rashness; prolonged unchecked desire invites risk.
The most basic instinct being survival, one could see recklessness as an extreme response to seeing another circumstance as unsurvivable (emotionally or otherwise, and accuracy of judgement notwithstanding), even if the reckless act invites a different or more severe danger. We'd much prefer the danger we create than that which we perceive as inescapable. While the animal's chief aim is survival, it is especially to do so on his or her own terms.
No one aims to be reckless
References in both the works of Socrates and Epictetus point to the almost counterintuitive observation that no one seeks a reckless life. Anything that anyone does is out of a desire toward some end that they perceive to be personally good, right, or satisfying. What is obviously wrong to any rational person is right to the one whose motivation bends so far in the direction of their desired end that the "wrongness" of the means is blurred. The rational person's task is to inform their own ends—that is, to place their desire on that which is independent of another, or as phrased by Epictetus, cannot be impeded or thwarted. It could be said that at the root of recklessness is desperation; be it for control, for a thrill, or for basic needs, judgement weakens where desperation widens. Tempering our propensity for reckless states begins with an audit of our desires, and later, the development of productive responses to them.
“People find particular things, however, frightening; and it’s when someone is able to threaten or entice us with those that the man himself becomes frightening.” -Epictetus
Often more motivating than an object or state of being itself is the validation presented by it. Authors Jim Dethmer, Diana Chapman, and Kaley Klemp expound upon this concept effectively in book The 15 Commitments of Conscious Leadership, with "Commitment 11" positing that all human wants stem from a desire for approval, control, or security. If we follow the Stoic guidance to lay all things bare to see them as they truly are, our desires included, what we'll find is a list of ways we've outsourced our contentment, consciously or subconsciously behaving in manners that put others as the dictators of our peace. It's for this reason that the full commitment articulated in Commitment 11 in the work of Dethmer, Chapman, and Klemp is to that of "being the source of my security, control and approval." We become the solution by realizing that we are the solution.
Amidst our efforts toward productive striving, it's useful to differentiate between desires and goals. A goal is aimed for, set in a manner in which the aspirer recognizes the active role she plays in attaining it, and the practical steps required of her. Though pulsating, a desire can be vague and may or may not be accompanied by a will to sustain it once realized; it is a craving that one often wants satisfied immediately. Akin to a wish, a desire tends to be something we want granted; contrarily, a goal is consciously pursued. This is why we commonly find metaphorical usages of arrows across Stoic texts—their direction is influenced by the archer's aim.
Revealed in the thin nature of desire is the thinness of our willingness to become the person who attains it. In scrutinizing some of our wants, what we may find is that we don't want the thing as much as we want getting it to be easy.
In Book IV of Meditations, Marcus Aurelius reminds us "that the care bestowed on each action should be proportionate to its worth." If we are unwilling to bestow care and diligent intention in our pursuit of something, how much, then, is it worth to us?
From deficiency to sufficiency
Relational and familial dynamics offer useful contexts for exploring core wants and fears. A research study from 2021 states that "partner relationships have consistently been found to be the most powerful protective factor against loneliness." Important to note, however, is that the study does not explore relationships as an answer to preexisting individual loneliness, but rather, as a subject impacted by preexisting loneliness. The study found, unquestionably, that couples with lower individual loneliness levels shared the highest levels of relationship satisfaction. In other words, it was the couples who were the most individually sufficient that were collectively content.
While the pursuit of romance and family presents as the ultimate mitigation to loneliness, overlooked in the moment is the propensity for obligation-driven resentment bred by loneliness being the basis for relationship entry. Avoiding this requires that two people enter not to combat loneliness, but out of the intention to build a life that multiplies what one might be capable of on their own. Entering from sufficiency enhances what can be experienced; entering from deficiency invites expectation, cultivating a perspective that later only sees what's impossible with or without them. Sufficiency, rather, invites that of constant possibility.
The most noble desire, then, is sufficiency. Nothing can be taken from that which is already complete—only added to. Daily life then shifts from pursuit to invitation. As the authors of The 15 Commitments of Conscious Leadership would position it, what previously lacked is no longer an empty space, but an opportunity for fullness in a different way.
Choosing to operate from a state of sufficiency is the act of being, as writer Goethe put it, "the decisive element." The extent of "wanting" for the sufficient individual is that of wanting to add from completeness, versus adding for completeness. The operative difference frees us.
Desiring to be
“If you wish for something that is under your authority and cannot be obstructed, how will they stop you?” -Epictetus
Stoic philosopher and teacher Epictetus would commonly engage students in a series of logic-based questions intended to enable the student to reach the not-obvious-but-sensible conclusion—an otherwise deep insight or reframing of some considered area. Book IV of Discourses and Selected Writings sees a dialogue in which Epictetus suggests something that could later be seen as the most common form of practical advice when considering any major decision: to ask someone else who's done it. In this case, the example is rooted in the concepts of freedom and desire, and follows the exploration of whether one's life is actually better once access was gained into a prominent emperor's circle.
"He says that if he's not invited to dine with Caesar, he's an emotional wreck; and if he is invited, he behaves like a slave asked to sit beside his master, anxious the whole time lest he say or do something gauche. But is he afraid that, like a slave, he'll get whipped? He should be so lucky. As befits a personage as lofty as a friend of Caesar, he's afraid his head will be chopped off."
The dialogue goes on to illuminate that the size of a person's regret was in direct proportion to how close to Caesar they'd become, for the closer they became, the more of their personhood Caesar owned. Anyone who has existed in any sort of hierarchy in any form, most accessibly that of a corporate one, may reasonably grapple with what is meant to be gained by seeing things in this way. Operating within a societal structure in itself is not slavery. This is simply existence within structure. What we're to reevaluate is our relationship with the things that the people with whom we deal may have some influence over. What Epictetus thoughtfully illuminates is that while it would appear that the individual in power is who scares us, what we're truly scared of is what that person has the power to impact or remove. Our slavishness manifests in relation to these things.
Instead of striving toward outcomes controlled by another, our pull is to become the person to whom certain outcomes are most likely to correspond. In the now renowned behavior book Atomic Habits, author James Clear emphasizes that "every action is a vote for the type of person you wish to become. As the votes build up, so does the evidence of your identity.”
We triumph over desire when we become what we desire—when our will, intent, and actions all conspire in favor of whatever it is we wish to be. "First, decide who you wish to be, and then act your part accordingly," Epictetus advises us in Discourses. Plenty assume the wanting position; few cement it in action.
We win against desire by choosing to restrict our ownership to our contribution toward that desire. We prevail over desperation by becoming the person most likely to realize their intentions—the person whose means will inevitably invite or support what they seek. Rest assured that one's means are not solely what was or wasn't given. One's means are what's been done consistently and subsequently built. This view empowers us to make the means, and choose what's made of them.
"...keep in mind that a person's worth is measured by the worth of what he has set his heart on." -Marcus Aurelius