The Stoic Doctrine of Providence

A Study of its Development and of Some of its Major Issues

Bernard Collette

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781317298717
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Ancient History
• Index: History

The Stoic Doctrine of Providence attempts to reconstruct the Stoic doctrine of providence (as argued for in ancient texts now lost) and explain its many fascinating philosophical issues.

Examining issues such as the compatibility between good and evil, and how a provident god can serve as model of political leadership, this is the first monograph of its kind to focus on the question of Stoic providence. It offers an in-depth study of the meaning and importance of this topic in eight distinct generations of Stoics, from Zeno of Citium (fourth century B.C.) to Panaetius of Rhodes (second century B.C.) to Marcus Aurelius (second century A.D.).

The Stoic Doctrine of Providence is key reading for anyone interested in Ancient Stoicism or the study of divine providence in a philosophical setting.

1 Zeno on providence

DOI: 10.4324/9781315647678-1

Although no Stoic before Chrysippus would pen a treatise specifically dedicated to the subject of divine providence (see Chapter 3), a study of the extant fragments of Zeno of Citium (334/3–262/1 B.C.),¹ founder of the Stoa, reveals that divine providence was, from the outset, already an important topic for the Stoics. In this chapter, we will focus on some key passages related to Zeno’s thought that shall help us get a first grasp of the Stoic notion of providence. As we are going to see, Zeno’s account of providence, although it can be only very partially reconstructed, appears to already establish some of the most distinctive features of the Stoic doctrine of providence, namely that god’s providence permeates everything that happens in the world (even what one would think is unfortunate or even bad), that it can be proved by divination and that it implies a genuine concern for human beings. A study of Zeno’s fragments also reveals that the Stoic doctrine of providence was initially established through revising or rejecting parts of Plato’s (and Aristotle’s) views on nature and the divine.

1 Providence as one of god’s names

An initial fragment, found in Stobeaus’ anthology, indicates that Zeno discussed providence in a book on physics (one of the three parts of the Stoic philosophy) and that he thought that ‘providence’ was one of the various names of the ‘motive power of matter’:

T1-1 Zeno the Stoic, in his On Nature (ἐν τῷ Περὶ φύσεως), calls ‘fate’ (εἱμαρμένην) the motive power of matter (δύναμιν κινητικὴν τῆς ὕλης), which <moves it> in the same unchanging way (κατὰ ταὐτὰ καὶ ὡσαύτως), <and says> that it is not different from (μὴ διαφέρειν) providence and nature (πρόνοιαν καὶ φύσιν).

(Stob. Ecl. 1.78.18–20 = SVF 1.176.1. See also SVF 1.176.2)

That Zeno should write about providence in a book on nature is understandable, given that the Stoics held theology, which encompasses the subject of divine providence, to be a branch of physics. More intriguing, however, is the idea that providence is one of the various possible names for the ‘motive power of matter’.

Stoic physics recognizes the existence of two principles, one which is completely active (τὸ ποιοῦν, ‘that which acts’) and the other completely passive (τὸ πάσχον, ‘that which is acted upon’): god (or reason) and matter, respectively.² The passivity of matter explains why it is, by itself, motionless, and why every movement in the world (i.e. everything that happens) must ultimately be explained with reference to the other principle, god, who is held to be ‘self-moving’ (αὐτοκίνητός).³

When Zeno says that providence is a name of the ‘motive power of matter’, he therefore simply means that ‘providence’ is another name for god, like ‘fate’ (εἱμαρμένη) or ‘nature’ (φύσις). Nevertheless, while providence and fate may refer to the same thing, each name carries a distinct meaning. These meanings cannot be mutually exclusive, but they may differ in some significant ways. According to an important testimony by Calcidius, which we shall examine below (T2-17), providence is god’s will (dei uoluntas) and god’s will refers to ‘a series of causes’ (series causarum), a common Stoic definition of fate. In other words, providence implies a will or intention to achieve a goal or an end (the good), whereas fate refers to the actual series of steps needed to achieve that goal.

Zeno’s virtual identification of providence and fate has two important consequences. The first of these is that everything that happens according to providence also happens according to fate: there is a kind of unavoidable necessity to god’s will. Indeed, as we have seen, the other principle, matter, is completely passive, and therefore malleable and compliant. For that reason, god’s will can be carried out in a strictly ordered and rational way, without any obstacles, and this order manifests itself through the ‘unchanging way’ (κατὰ ταὐτὰ καὶ ὡσαύτως) in which matter is moved. The other consequence is that everything that happens according to fate also happens according to providence: whatever happens, even what is or is perceived to be wicked or unjust, is connected, one way or another, to god’s will. This second consequence leads to a number of serious philosophical problems, and was therefore not unanimously accepted by every member of the Stoa, as we shall see in the case of Cleanthes (in Chapter 2, section 4).

2 Providence and nature

2.1 Nature as a craftsmanlike fire

Nature is another one of god’s names, and it must therefore also be closely linked with providence. This affinity between nature and providence appears in a passage from Cicero’s On the Nature of the Gods. The initial part of the passage runs as follows:

T1-2 Now Zeno gives this definition of nature: ‘nature is a craftsmanlike fire (ignem… artificiosum), proceeding methodically towards generation (ad gignendum progredientem uia)’. For he holds that the special function of an art or craft is to create and generate (creare et gignere), and that what in the processes of our arts is done by the hand is done with far more skillful craftsmanship (multo artificiosius) by nature, that is, as I said, by that ‘craftsmanlike’ fire which is the teacher of the other arts (magistrum artium reliquarum). And on this theory, every nature is ‘craftsmanlike,’ in the sense of having, as it were, a method or path to follow (quod habet uiam quandam et sectam quam sequatur).

(Cic. ND 2.57 = SVF 1.172, trans. Rackham, adapted)

For Zeno, there is no substantial difference between nature and art. Art’s special function is to create or generate, and to do so in a certain ordered, rational way. These two features are also found in nature, and that is why nature may be said to be ‘craftsmanlike’ (artificiosa). It too follows a method, that is, it proceeds in an orderly fashion. Moreover, nature shares with art the same productive inclination, aiming at generation rather than destruction. Although the latter aspect is not fully spelled out in our text, it is at least hinted at by the identification of nature with a ‘craftsmanlike fire’. One finds an account, attributed to Zeno, of that type of fire, in Stobaeus:

T1-3 Zeno says that the sun and the moon and each of the other stars are intelligent and thoughtful (νοερὸν καὶ φρόνιμον) and have the fieriness of craftsmanlike fire (πυρὸς τεχνικοῦ). For there are two kinds of fire: one is not craftsmanlike (ἄτεχνον) and converts its food into itself (μεταβάλλον εἰς ἑαυτὸ τὴν τροφήν); the other is craftsmanlike (τεχνικόν), responsible for growth and preservation (αὐξητικόν τε καὶ τηρητικόν), as is the case in plants and animals where it is nature and soul respectively. Such is the fire which constitutes the substance of the stars.

(Stob. Ecl. 1.213.17–21 = SVF 1.120 and 46D L.-S., trans. Long and Sedley, adapted)

As this passage makes it clear, a craftsmanlike (τεχνικόν) fire, as opposed to the fire with which we are most familiar, is a creative rather than a destructive force, yielding ‘growth and preservation’. This is important for our understanding of providence. The fiery nature of god is responsible for the creation and generation of the world, not simply in the sense that it brings it to life (by setting matter into motion), but in the sense that it keeps it alive as well. To quote Seneca, who captured that idea perfectly: ‘Nature produces her fruits, and does not reject them’ (producit fetus suos natura, non abicit).⁴ In other words, the specific function of providence is that of making sure that what is born shall not immediately die but manage to grow and conserve itself. This is a point that finds special emphasis in the Stoic doctrine of οἰκείωσις, which explains why, once born, an animal seeks self-preservation (see Chapter 9) and why parents have a strong affection (called φιλοστοργία) for their offspring (see Chapter 7, section 2). Since the Stoics hold that affection for one’s offspring⁵ is the starting point (initium) for ‘the general sociability of the human race’,⁶ it is already not difficult to see how far-reaching the idea of providence is in the Stoa. We will return to that doctrine in various parts of this book.

The nature responsible for the creation and preservation of the world is, according to Zeno, fire. Such a position would seem to place Zeno in the company of the Presocratic philosophers (especially Heraclitus), who held the world to be generated from one of the four cardinal elements (fire, air, water or earth). It also gives the impression that Stoic physics is materialistic. But such an impression is mistaken.⁷ We have seen that Zeno distinguishes between two principles (god and matter), and that he makes god alone the cause of everything. Besides, the craftsmanlike fire that is nature (or god) is not an element, or, if it is, it is only so in a very peculiar way.⁸ Rather, it is that out of which the four cardinal elements (and the things composed out of them) are generated and that into which they eventually resolve (during the ἐκπύρωσις or conflagration at the end of each cosmic cycle).

In a sense, Zeno’s physics is much closer to Plato’s than to that of earlier thinkers. There remains, however, a significant difference between the two, as we shall soon see. In the Timaeus, a dialogue that we know was very influential in the Stoa,⁹ Plato gently mocks those (Presocratic) physiologues who call ‘στοιχεῖα’ (elements, letters) the primary bodies that are fire, air, water and earth: in reality, says Timaeus, they are not even ‘syllables’.¹⁰ What he means is that the four so-called elements are not the most elemental (‘indivisible’ or irreducible) principles of the world (κόσμος) and cannot, by themselves, explain its order (κόσμος). Indeed, they have ‘dissimilar and imbalanced powers’¹¹ and, left to their own devices, are unable to generate one another, contrary to what is the case in the world as we know it, where, for instance, water generates air by rarefaction and air generates water by condensation. That is why, in the Timaeus, the proportionate state¹² of these primary bodies, which implies commensurability, is explained by reference to a pre-cosmic Pythagorean-inspired geometrization¹³ of matter by a divine demiurge (symbol...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Series Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• List of abbreviations
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 Zeno on providence
• 2 Cleanthes on providence
• 3 Chrysippus’ On Providence
• 4 Panaetius on providence
• 5 Posidonius and Cleomedes on providence
• 6 Seneca on providence
• 7 Epictetus on providence
• 8 Marcus Aurelius on providence
• 9 Providence and self-preservation
• 10 From cosmic oikeiôsis to personal providence
• Bibliography
• Glossary of Greek terms
• Glossary of Latin terms
• Index of sources
• General Index