Émile Coué, Autosuggestion, and Ancient Philosophy

Copyright (c) Donald Robertson, 2010. All rights reserved. 

Strikingly, Coué wrote, ‘Pythagoras and Aristotle taught autosuggestion’(Coué, 1923, p. 3).  Though his justification for this conclusion seems somewhat unclear, he could probably have found more material to explain and support it. 

We know, indeed, that the whole human organism is governed by the nervous system, the centre of which is the brain – the seat of thought.  In other words, the brain, or mind, controls every cell, every organ, every function of the body.  That being so, is it not clear that by means of thought we are the absolute masters of our physical organism and that, as the Ancients showed centuries ago, thought – or suggestion – can and does produce disease or cure it?  Pythagoras taught the principle of auto-suggestion to his disciples.  He wrote: “God the Father, deliver them from their sufferings, and show them what supernatural power is at their call.” (Coué, 1923, pp. 3-4)  

The practice of repeating aphorisms, short verbal “formulas”, seems to have been associated with the ancient mystery religions and oracles, and the philosophical-therapeutic sect of Pythagoras which evolved from them.  

The Ancients well knew the power – often the terrible power – contained in the repetition of a phrase of formula.  The secret of the undeniable influence they exercised through the old Oracles resided probably, nay, certainly, in the force of suggestion. (Coué, 1923, p. 27)  

The most famous formulae associated with the Delphic Oracle of Apollo, the patron god of philosophy, were “Know thyself” and “Nothing in excess.”  The Pythagoreans compiled lists of such aphorisms, which acquired cryptic symbolic meanings, and were referred to as akousmata, the “things listened to”, and symbola, the “symbols” or “watchwords.”  For example, according to Porphry, the precept “poke not the fire with a sword” was a reminder that one should not further provoke an angry person by attacking them with verbal criticisms; “eat not the heart”, meant that one should not wallow in morbid emotions (Porphyry, 1988, p. 131).  These Pythagorean sayings, and those derived from the Greek Oracles, may well be the precursors of the Stoic precepts (dogmata) which, as we shall see, appear to have performed a similar function. 

Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy

Donald Robertson

Publisher: Karnac Books (Aug 2010)
ISBN-10: 1855757567 / ISBN-13: 978-1855757561

The Philosophy of CBT

The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy: Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy, published by Karnac and available for pre-order online now.

You can also now order The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy from Amazon, where you may preview a sample of the contents online free of charge. See Donald’s author page on Amazon UK for additional publications.

You can now browse sample chapters from The Philosophy of CBT on Google Books free-of-charge.

Synopsis:

Why should modern psychotherapists be interested in philosophy, especially ancient philosophy? Why should philosophers be interested in psychotherapy? There is a sense of mutual attraction between what are today two thoroughly distinct disciplines. However, arguably it was not always the case that they were distinct.

Donald Robertson takes the view that by reconsidering the generally received wisdom concerning the history of these closely-related subjects, we can learn a great deal about both philosophy and psychotherapy, under which heading he includes potentially solitary pursuits such as “self-help” and “personal development”.

Testimonials:

Here are a selection of comments about The Philosophy of CBT from other therapy and philosophy authors:

[F]or many of us something is missing from most of the [CBT] literature. What has been needed is a book that covers the underlying philosophy of the cognitive behavioural therapies in much greater depth. This book on the Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy by Donald Robertson provides us with the missing link between the theory and the philosophy. [...] It is a fascinating read. The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy could be considered as either a prequel or a sequel to the standard textbook read by a trainee or experienced cognitive behavioural or rational emotive practitioner who wants to understand these approaches to therapy within an historical framework.
— From the Foreword by Professor Stephen Palmer PhD FAREBT FBACP, Director of the Centre for Stress Management, London, UK

This book is a fascinating interweaving of Stoic philosophy and contemporary cognitive-behavioural therapy (CBT). Robertson rightly reminds us of how much CBT owes its philosophical origins to the Stoics but, sadly, how often this debt is insufficiently acknowledged. He urges us to redirect our attention to the past to see how modern CBT still has much to learn from its ancient precursors. Highly recommended.
— Michael Neenan, Co-Director of the CBT Programme, Centre for Stress Management, Bromley, Kent, UK

The author has uncovered a wealth of connections between modern cognitive-behavioural therapies and ancient Stoic philosophy. It should be read by anyone interested in understanding the historical roots of CBT or in learning about how ancient psychotherapeutic methods can add to the modern therapist’s toolkit.
— Tim LeBon, UKCP registered psychotherapist and author of Wise Therapy

Donald Robertson is blazing a trail to discover the sources of cognitive-behavioural therapy, and Stoic philosophy is prime among these. A fascinating work that should be compulsory reading for all practitioners in the field and interested lay people, providing insights into how ancient philosophy can give us the coping and life success strategies we are all looking for, both as professionals and in private life. A great read!
— Tom Butler-Bowdon, author of 50 Self-Help Classics and 50 Psychology Classics

Copyright (c) Donald Robertson, 2010.  All rights reserved.

(This is a brief excerpt from my forthcoming book, The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy: Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy, published by Karnac and available for pre-order online now.)

Plato has a fine saying, that he who would discourse of man should survey, as from some high watchtower, the things of earth.  (Marcus Aurelius, The Meditations) 

Take a moment to settle into your posture and make yourself comfortable…  Close your eyes and relax… [Pause.]  Be aware of your breathing…  Notice the rhythm and pattern of the breath…  Do nothing for while, just be content to contemplate your breathing more deeply… [Pause.]  Now, begin by paying attention to the whole of your body as one…  From the top of your head, all the way down into your fingers and down into your toes…  Be aware of your body as one… every nerve, muscle and fibre… Don’t try to change anything.  Don’t try to stop anything from changing…  Some things can change just by being observed… 

Just be content to notice whatever you notice, and feel whatever you feel…  Be a passive, detached observer…  As you continue to relax, turn your attention deeper within, and become more aware of your body… until you can almost imagine how you look right now…  Begin to picture yourself as if seen from the outside… Now just imagine that you are taking a step back and looking at yourself.  It really doesn’t matter how vividly you can picture yourself, it’s just the intention, just idea that matters.  Imagine your body posture… your facial expression… the colour and style of your clothing…

Now keep looking at the image of yourself resting there, and imagine your own feet are gently leaving the ground.  You begin floating serenely upwards, slowly and continuously, rising upwards.  All the while your gaze keeps returning to your own body, now seated there below you as you rise above it.  Keep looking down toward your body as you float higher and higher….  The roof and ceiling disappear, allowing you to float freely upward.  Gazing down you see yourself seated comfortably below in the building, looking contented and contemplative.  You see all the rooms, and any other people around.

As you continue to float gently higher and higher, your perspective widens more and more until you see the whole surrounding area.  You see all the buildings nearby from above.  You see the people in buildings and in the streets and roads.  You observe people far below working, or walking along the pavement, people cycling or driving their cars, and those travelling on buses and trains.  You begin to contemplate the whole network of human lives and how people everywhere are interacting with each other, influencing each other, encountering each other in different ways…

Floating higher, people become as small as ants below.  Rising up into the clouds, you see the whole of the surrounding region beneath you.  You see both towns and countryside, and gradually the coastline comes into view as your perspective becomes more and more expansive…  You float gently up above the clouds, above the weather, and through the upper atmosphere of the planet Earth…  So high that you eventually rise beyond the sphere of the planet itself, and into outer space…  You look toward planet Earth and see it suspended in space before you, silently turning… resplendent in all its majesty and beauty…

You see the whole of your home planet… the blue of the great oceans… and the brown and green of the continental land masses…  You see the white of the polar ice caps, north and south…  You see the grey wisps of cloud that pass silently across the surface of the Earth…  Though you can no longer see yourself from so far above, you know and feel that you are down there on Earth below, and that your life is important, and what you make of your life is important.  Your change in perspective changes your view of things, your values and priorities…

You contemplate all the countless living beings upon the Earth.  The population of the planet is over six billion people…  You realise that your life is one among many, one person among the total population of the Earth…  You think of the rich diversity of human life on Earth.  The many languages spoken by people of different races, in different countries… people of all different ages… newborn infants, elderly people, people in the prime of life…  You think of the enormous variety of human experiences… some people right now are unhappy, some people are happy… and you realise how richly varied the tapestry of human life before you seems.

And yet as you gaze upon the planet Earth you are also aware of its position within the rest of the universe… a tiny speck of stardust, adrift in the immeasurable vastness of cosmic space…  This world of ours is merely a single planet, a tiny grain of sand by comparison with the endless tracts of cosmic space…    a tiny rock in space, revolving around our Sun… the Sun itself just one of countless billions of stars which punctuate the velvet blackness of our galaxy…

You think about the present moment on Earth and see it within the broader context of your life as a whole.  You think of your lifespan as a whole, in its totality…  You think of your own life as one moment in the enormous lifespan of mankind…  Hundreds of generations have lived and died before you… many more will live and die in the future, long after you yourself are gone…  Civilisations too have a lifespan; you think of the many great cities which have arisen and been destroyed throughout the ages… and your own civilisation as one in a series… perhaps in the future to be followed by new cities, peoples, languages, cultures, and ways of life…

You think of the lifespan of humanity itself…  Just one of countless billions of species living upon the planet…  Mankind arose as a race roughly two hundred thousand years ago… animal life itself first appeared on Earth over four billion years ago…  Contemplate time as follows…  Realise that if the history of life on Earth filled an encyclopaedia a thousand pages long… the life of the entire human race could be represented by a single sentence somewhere in that book… just one sentence…

And yet you think of the lifespan of the planet itself…  Countless billions of years old… the life of the planet Earth too has a beginning, middle, and end…  Formed from the debris of an exploding star, unimaginably long ago… one day in the distant future its destiny is to be swallowed up and consumed by the fires of our own Sun…  You think of the great lifespan of the universe itself… the almost incomprehensible vastness of universal time… starting with a cosmic explosion, a big bang they say, immeasurable ages ago in the past…  Perhaps one day, at the end of time, this whole universe will implode upon itself and disappear once again…  Who can imagine what, if anything, might follow, at the end of time, in the wake of our own universe’s demise…

Contemplating the vast lifespan of the universe, remember that the present moment is but the briefest of instants… the mere blink of an eye… the turn of a screw… a fleeting second in the mighty river of cosmic time…  Yet the “here and now” is important… standing as the centre point of all human experience…  Here and now you find yourself at the centre of living time…  Though your body may be small in the grand scheme of things, your imagination, the human imagination, is as big as the universe… bigger than the universe… enveloping everything that can be conceived…  From the cosmic point of view, your body seems small, but your imagination seems utterly vast… 

You contemplate all things, past, present and future…  You see your life within the bigger picture… the total context of cosmic time and space…  The totality is absolute reality…  You see yourself as an integral part of something much bigger, something truly vast, the “All” itself…  Just as the cells of your own body work together to form a greater unity, a living being, so your body as a whole is like a single cell in the organism of the universe…  Along with every atom in the universe you necessarily contribute your role to the unfolding of its grand design…

As your consciousness expands, and your mind stretches out to reach and touch the vastness of eternity…  Things change greatly in perspective… and shifts occur in their relative importance… Trivial things seem trivial to you…  Indifferent things seem indifferent…  The significance of your own attitude toward life becomes more apparent… you realise that life is what you make of it…   You learn to put things in perspective, and focus on your true values and priorities in life…  One stage at a time, you develop the serenity to accept the things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference…  You follow nature… your own true nature as a rational, truth-seeking human being… and the one great nature of the universe as a whole…

Now in a moment you are beginning to sink back down to Earth, toward your place in the here and now…  Part of you can remain aware of the view from above, and always return to and remember that sense of serenity and perspective. 

Now you begin your descent back down to Earth, to face the future with renewed strength and serenity…  You sink back down through the sky… down… down… down… toward the local area… down… down… down… into this building…  down… down… down… You sink back gently into your body… all the way now… as your feet slowly come to rest upon the floor once again…

Now think about the room around you… Think about action… movement… think about looking around and getting your orientation…  raising your head a little…  Begin to breathe a little bit more deeply… a little bit more energetically… let your body feel more alive and ready for action… breathe energy and vitality into your body… breathe a little deeper and deeper again… until you’re ready to take a deep breath, open your eyes, and emerge from meditation… taking your mindfulness and self-awareness forward into life… beginning now… take a deep breath… and open your eyes now… when you’re ready… entering the here and now with deep calm and serenity…

Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy

Copyright (c) Donald Robertson, 2010. All rights reserved.

“Donald Robertson has uncovered a wealth of connections between modern cognitive behavoural therapies and ancient Stoic philosophy. This book should be read by anyone interested in understanding the historical roots of CBT or in learning about how ancient psychotherapeutic methods can add to the modern therapist’s toolkit.”
– Tim LeBon, UKCP registed psychotherapist and author of Wise Therapy

(This is a brief excerpt from my new book, The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy: Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy, published by Karnac and available for order online now.)

James Bond Stockdale

Donald Robertson

According to James Stockdale, the English philosopher Alfred North Whitehead once said that if Plato were to return to life today, he would first ask to be introduced not to an academic, but to a boxing champion (Stockdale, 1995, p. 17). If the Stoic philosopher Epictetus were alive in modern times, the first person he would want to be introduced to would probably be Stockdale himself.

On September 9, 1965, I flew at 500 knots right into a flak trap, at tree-top level, in a little A-4 airplane – the cockpit walls not even three feet apart – which I couldn’t steer after it was on fire, its control system shot out. After ejection I had about thirty seconds to make my last statement in freedom before I landed in the main street of a little [North Vietnamese] village right ahead. And so help me, I whispered to myself: “Five years down there [in captivity], at least. I’m leaving the world of technology and entering the world of Epictetus.” (Stockdale, 1995, p. 189)

At the outbreak of US involvement in the Vietnam War, James Stockdale (1923-2005) was captured by a mob of fifteen villagers who beat him to within an inch of his life, snapping his leg, and leaving him permanently crippled. The irony, not lost on Stockdale, was that he had lost the use of his left leg, just like the crippled slave, Epictetus, whose ancient Handbook (Enchiridion) of Stoic philosophy he had previously devoured after studying philosophy as a masters student at Stanford University.

Stockdale was taken prisoner by the North Vietnamese and incarcerated in Hanoi where, as the highest-ranking US naval officer, the only wing commander to survive an ejection over enemy territory, he assumed charge of a community of captured soldiers which, at its largest, numbered in excess of 400 men. Stockdale said he never actually saw a Vietnamese POW camp as portrayed in the movies. He was imprisoned in an old French colonial “dungeon” which formed part of a large communist prison called Hao Lo, or the “Hanoi Hilton”, described as part psychiatric clinic, part reform school. The Americans, kept alongside Vietnamese criminals, were subjected to a constant programme of attempted psychological reprogramming by professional torturers and prison officers. During that time, as a prisoner of war, for seven and a half years, Stockdale spent four years in isolation, two years in leg irons, and was tortured fifteen times, in a manner (“taking the ropes”) not unlike crucifixion.

And if I were asked, “What are the benefits of a Stoic life?” I would probably say, “It is an ancient and honorable package of advice on how to stay out of the clutches of those who are trying to get you on the hook, trying to give you a feeling of obligation, trying to get moral leverage on you, to force you to bend to their will.” Because I first reaped its benefits in an extortionist prison of torture, I could go on and say, “It’s a formula for maintaining self-respect and dignity in defiance of those who would break your spirit for their own end.” (Stockdale, 1995, p. 177)

Stockdale’s experience obviously bears comparison with the better-known story of Victor Frankl, a Jewish psychiatrist who was incarcerated in Auschwitz concentration camp during the Second World War, and published his bestselling self-help book Man’s Search for Meaning, after his release  (Frankl, 1959). However, although both men arrived at similar conclusions regarding their plight, Stockdale was already aware of Stoic philosophy before being captured and therefore made explicit use of it in coping with his extreme circumstances.

Throughout his time in captivity, Stockdale drew upon the Stoic philosophy he had learned, which suddenly appeared to him to be of more value than anything else he could imagine. He called the many portions of Epictetus’ Handbook which he had learned by heart and memorised his “consolation” and “secret weapon” during captivity.

I’m not the only prisoner who discovered that so-called practical academic exercises on “how to do things” were useless in that fix. The classics have a way of saving you the trouble of prolonged experiences. You don’t have to go out and buy pop psychology self-help books. When you read the classics in the humanities, you become aware that the big ideas have been around a long time, despite the fact that they are often served up today in modern psychological “explanations” of human action as novel and “scientific.” (Stockdale, 1995, p. 24)

On his release, Stockdale became a well-known military hero, even campaigning as a vice-presidential candidate, supporting the independent Ross Perot, in a US election. He was one of the most highly-decorated officers in US Naval history and spent his later years lecturing on the relevance of Stoic philosophy to modern military life. A collection of his talks and essays was published in his book, Thoughts of a Philosophical Fighter Pilot (1995). It’s surprising that more frequent reference is not made to Stockdale’s story by cognitive-behavioural therapists, who claim to derive their inspiration from the same philosophical source, ancient Stoicism. I hope this short digression helps to illustrate how Stoic philosophy, like Frankl’s existential psychotherapy, has been applied even to the most extraordinary psychological challenges imaginable in the modern world.

(This is a brief excerpt from my new book, The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy: Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy, published by Karnac and available for order online now.)

Stoic Philosophy as Rational and Cognitive Psychotherapy 

Copyright (c) Donald Robertson, 2010.  All rights reserved. 

[F]or many of us something is missing from most of the [CBT] literature.  What has been needed is a book that covers the underlying philosophy of the cognitive behavioural therapies in much greater depth.  This book on the Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy by Donald Robertson provides us with the missing link between the theory and the philosophy.  [...] It is a fascinating read.  The Philosophy of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy could be considered as either a prequel or a sequel to the standard textbook read by a trainee or experienced cognitive behavioural or rational emotive practitioner who wants to understand these approaches to therapy within an historical framework.
— From the Foreword by Professor Stephen Palmer PhD  FAREBT  FBACP, Director of the Centre for Stress Management, London, UK 

Donald Robertson

Critics might say that it is actually a healthy sign that so little attention has been given to the historical and philosophical origins of CBT because it is inherently a forward-looking, scientific approach to psychotherapy.  Just because ideas are very old, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they are particularly valid or useful today.  However, there a number of legitimate reasons for exploring this matter in more detail.  As [US naval pilot vice-admiral James] Stockdale [who used his knowledge of Stoic philosophy to survive incarceration in a Vietnamese torture camp] wrote, 

Most of what Epictetus has to say to me is “right on” for modern times.  Will Durant [an American philosopher] says that human nature changes, if at all, with “geological leisureliness.”  According to me, not much has happened to it since the days of Homer.  Epictetus lived a tough life: born a slave, crippled by a cruel master, went from boy to man in the murderous violence of the household of a totally indulgent Emperor Nero.  And he read human nature across a spectrum like this, and by the standards of my spectrum it rings with authenticity.(Stockdale, 1995, p. 180) 

Indeed, a handful of cognitive-behavioural therapists have already attempted to make some headway in the direction of increasing dialogue concerning the relationship between Hellenistic philosophy and REBT or CBT(Still & Dryden, 1999; McGlinchey, 2004; Herbert, 2004; Reiss, 2003; Montgomery, 1993; Brookshire, 2007; Robertson, 2005).  

The Philosophy of CBT (Karnac)

Moreover, there are still therapeutic concepts and techniques to be found in classical literature that have good “face validity”, appear consistent with CBT, and may well deserve empirical investigation in their own right.  Nevertheless, in his recent article, Herbert, while defending the notion that comparisons between ancient philosophy and modern psychotherapy are interesting and valuable in their own right, has called into question the extent to which correlation in their respective ideas can be taken as evidence of causation, i.e., of a historical influence(Herbert, 2004).  While I agree that the question of influence is a complex one, and perhaps something of a diversion from the bigger issues, in the following chapters I will discuss the extent to which the founders of both REBT and cognitive therapy have explicitly stated, in some of their principal texts, that Stoicism and other ancient philosophical traditions were regarded by them as providing the “philosophical origins” of their approach, e.g., ‘The philosophical origins of cognitive therapy can be traced back to the Stoic philosophers’(Beck, Rush, Shaw, & Emery, 1979, p. 8).  

Hence, some of the key points of the following text might be summarised as follows, for the benefit of readers requiring an overview of what may seem a complex and somewhat inter-disciplinary subject matter, 

• The origins of modern cognitive-behavioural therapy can be traced, through early twentieth century rational psychotherapists, back to the ancient therapeutic practices of Socratic philosophy, especially Roman Stoicism.
• The notion of Stoicism as a kind of “intellectualism” opposed to emotion is a popular misconception.  Stoicism has traditionally attempted to accommodate emotion, especially the primary philosophical emotion of rational love toward existence as a whole.
• Ancient philosophy offers a clear analogy with modern CBT and provides many concepts, strategies, and techniques of practical value in self-help and psychotherapy.
• The contemplation of universal determinism, of the transience or impermanence of things, including our own mortality, and the meditative vision of the world seen from above, or the cosmos conceived of as a whole, constitute specific meditative and visualisation practices within the field of ancient Hellenistic psychotherapy.
• Contemplation of the good qualities (“virtues”) found in those we admire and in our ideal conception of philosophical enlightenment and moral strength (the “Sage”) provides us with a means of role-modelling excellence and deriving precepts or maxims to help guide our own actions.
• The rehearsal, memorisation, and recall of short verbal formulae, precepts, dogmas, sayings, or maxims resembles the modern practice of autosuggestion, affirmation, or the use of coping statements in CBT.
• The objective analysis of our experience into its value-free components, by suspending emotive judgements and rhetoric, constitutes a means of cognitive restructuring involving the disputation of faulty thinking, or cognitive distortion.  By sticking to the facts, we counter the emotional disturbance caused by our own “internal rhetoric.”
• Mindfulness of our own faculty of judgement, and internal dialogue, in the “here and now”, can be seen as analogous to the use of mindfulness meditation imported into modern CBT from Buddhist meditation practices, but has the advantage of being native to Stoicism, the philosophical precursor of CBT, and to European culture and language.
• The enormous literary value, the sheer beauty, of many of the classics with which we are concerned marks them out as being of special interest to many therapists and clients, just as it has marked them out for many thousands of previous readers throughout the intervening centuries.
• Socratic philosophy has a broader scope than modern psychotherapy, it looks at the bigger picture, and allows us the opportunity to place such therapy within the context of an overall “art of living”, or philosophy of life.

The modern industrialisation of psychotherapy, the division of the therapist’s labour, has compartmentalised it in a manner that is bound to cause certain contradictions.  What was once a lifestyle and calling, a vocation in the true sense of the word, has now been degraded into a mere “job”.  By nature, however, we do not merely study the cure of human suffering in order to alleviate it, but also to understand and transform ourselves and our relationship with life itself.  Perhaps, as the ancients seemed to believe, the philosopher-therapist must first transform his own way of life, making it a living example of his views, in order to be able to help others.  By contrast, if the goal of the “rational” or “philosophical” therapist is merely to do his job and leave it all behind him at the weekend, to treat what we call “psychotherapy” as just another profession then perhaps that’s not a very rational or philosophical goal. 

Philosophers and psychotherapists have a great deal to talk about, and a better common ground is required on which the two traditions can meet each other and exchange ideas.  I hope that this study of the philosophical precursors of modern cognitive-behavioural therapy will help to clarify and strengthen the basis for further dialogue between philosophers and therapists in the future.

Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem. (Horace)
“Remember to keep a calm and balanced mind in the face of adversity.”

Copright (c) Donald Robertson 2008.  All rights reserved.
This material is based upon the forthcoming book, Philosophy & CBT, due for publication in 2009 by Karnac.

One of the most fundamental techniques of classical philosophical therapy was the method known as premeditatio mallorum, which means preparing the mind in advance to cope with adversity.  For simplicity, we can refer to this notion simply as “philosophical premeditation.” 

      Essentially the technique of philosophical premeditation involves visualising a future catastrophe as if it were happening now and restoring emotional calm by repeating appropriate principles of living, i.e., positive affirmations.  These principles were usually called “dogmas” or “precepts”, but also referred to as maxims, formulas, sayings, etc.  They are symbolically described as the “weapons” of the Stoic warrior.  A well-known children’s fable of Aesop (c. 620-560 BC), who lived long before the first recorded philosophers, puts the notion beautifully well,

 A wild boar was sharpening his tusks against a tree when a fox came by and asked him why he was doing this. 

“I don’t see the reason,” remarked the fox, “there are no hunters nor hounds in sight.  In fact, right now I can’t see any threat at all.”

“True,” replied the boar, “but when danger does arise, I’ll have other things on my mind than sharpening my weapons.”

There are countless references to the concept of mental preparation in classical philosophy, poetry, and literature.  It is perhaps one of the most characteristic techniques of Stoic psychotherapy, although it’s common to other Socratic sects, even the Stoics’ great rival, the school of Epicurus,

I have anticipated you, Fortune, and entrenched myself against all your secret attacks.  And we will not give ourselves up as captives to you or to any other circumstance.  (Epicurus et al., Vatican Sayings, 47)

Indeed, the great Stoic teacher Epictetus goes so far as to define (practical) philosophy in terms of this ability, “But what is it to study philosophy?  Is it not to prepare yourself for future events?”  (Epictetus, 3:10). 

It is perhaps because of the centrality of mental preparation to classical philosophy that, in modern usage, the adjectives, “Stoical” and “Philosophical” can both be used to mean the same thing: “calm in the face of adversity.” 

      The Twentieth century French philosopher, Foucault, had a great interest in this area and discusses classical philosophical meditation at length in one of his last lectures.  He describes the premeditatio mallorum of the Stoics as a meditation divided into three distinct processes,

First, it is not a question of imagining the future as it is likely to turn out but to imagine the worst that can happen, even if there’s little chance it will turn out that way -the worst as certainty, as actualising what could happen, not as calculation of probability.

Second, one shouldn’t envisage things as possibly taking place in the distant future but as already actual and in the process of taking place.  For example, imagining not that one might be exiled but rather that one is already exiled, subjected to torture, and dying.

Third, one does this not in order to experience inarticulate sufferings but in order to convince oneself that they are not real ills.  The reduction of all that is possible, of all the duration and of all the misfortunes, reveals not something bad but what we have to accept.  (Foucault, Technologies of the Self, my formatting.)

By premeditatio mallorum we are able to employ our current mental resources, calmly meditating upon relevant maxims or affirmations, while anticipating a future event.

      As Foucault notes, the Stoics divided their exercises into meditatio, a word which can mean both “preparation” and “meditation”, and gymnasia, practical training through activity.  “While meditatio is an imaginary experience that trains thought, gymnasia is training in a real situation, even if it’s been artificially induced.”  (Foucault, Technologies of the Self).  A similar distinction is found in modern CBT where exposure to stressful events can be either in vitro (in the laboratory of the mind) or in vivo (in real life), i.e., in imagination or through behavioural assignments in the real world.  A person can confront a fear of enclosed spaces, e.g., first of all by imagining themselves in a place such as an elevator, and subsequently, when able, by placing themselves in certain confined situations in reality something which is normally done in progressive steps moving from the least to the most challenging types of situation.

      The philosophers, unlike most modern therapists, took this notion to the extreme.  As Foucault writes, “The meditation on death is the culmination of all these exercises.”  They reasoned that if they could overcome their fear of future events in this way they should focus upon conquering man’s greatest fear, the fear of death.   “The heart which has purged itself of the fear of death,” writes Seneca, “no dread dares to enter.”  Hence, the equally famous philosophical technique of the meditation on death (melete thanatou) can be seen as the archetypal form of the premeditatio mallorum. 

      It is said that ancient Roman generals had servants who whispered memento mori (“remember thou must die”) in their ears to help them moderate their pride following a great triumph.  This phrase has become part of our common cultural heritage and is still used to describe a whole genre of artwork which is intended as a meditation on our own mortality, from the Vanitas paintings of the Renaissance to the preserved animal cadavers of Damien Hirst.  This does not intend a morbid or melancholic state.  The ideal of the Stoic Sage, exemplified by Socrates, was both to love life and yet be unafraid of death.  “A person who has learned how to meet his death,” writes Seneca, “has unlearned how to be a slave.”

Eysenck & Cicero

The psychologist Hans Eysenck, who has a claim to be one of the founders of behaviour therapy, explicitly referred to the precedent for “exposure therapy” in philosophical literature.  In his autobiography, Eysenck claims that a good case can be made for saying that the German author Goethe “not only used methods of behaviour therapy, but also stated the basic premise on which these are based in a quite explicit fashion.” (Eysenck, 1990, p. 136).  Goethe describes how he employed in vivo exposure therapy methods, facing his fear of heights, loud noises, and blood, until they troubled him no longer.  Eysenck quotes Goethe’s finding: “Such troublesome and painful sensations I repeated until the impressions became quite indifferent to me, and I have since then derived great advantage from this training.” (quoted in Eysenck, 1990, p. 137)  However, Goethe also attempted to generalise this achievement to a wider range of fears, 

But I sought to steel myself not only against these impressions on the senses, but also against the infections of the imagination.  The awful and shuddering impressions of the darkness in churchyards, solitary places, churches and chapels by night, and whatever may be connected with them, I contrived to render likewise indifferent and in this, also, I went so far that day and night, and every locality were quite the same to me; so that even when, in later times, a desire came over me once more to feel in such scenes the pleasing shudder of youth, I could scarcely force this, in any degree, by the strangest and most fearful images which I called up. (Goethe in Eysenck, 1990, p. 137) 

Eysenck comments, “The treatment procedures used by Goethe are currently known as ‘reciprocal inhibition’ and ‘flooding with response prevention’.” (Eysenck, 1990, p. 137).  However, he adds that the same techniques have a precedent going back several thousand years earlier and provides his own translation of a Latin text. 

These ancient theories were Greek in origin, but were voiced in their most convincing form by Marcus Tullius Cicero, in his Tuscularum Disputationum [The Tusculan Disputations].  In the first place he points out that ‘Ab earum rerum est absentium metus, quarum est aegretudo’: in neurotic disorders, anxiety is felt of things not present, the presence of which causes grief, or distress.  This suggests immediately a learning process by means of which the distress properly associated with the ‘thing present’ (the unconditioned stimulus, in modern parlance) is evoked when the ‘thing’ is not present; that is, through a conditioned stimulus.  Now if we can remove the distress reaction [to the thing’s real presence], then the neurotic anxiety [experienced in its absence] also will be taken away: ‘Sublata igitur aegritudine, eadem impendentes et venientes timemus.’  This of course suggests a method of extinction, whether through ‘desensitisation’, or ‘flooding’, or ‘modelling’. (Eysenck, 1990, p. 138)

Eysenck also finds in Cicero a precursor of his own theory of trait “neuroticism”, a general emotional instability and vulnerability to disturbance, which Eysenck considered to be largely genetically determined. 

Cicero finally caps his account by appealing to individual differences: ‘At qui in quem cadit aegritudo, in eundem timor; quarum enim rerum praesentia sumus in aegritudine, eadem impendentes et venientes timemus.’  Translated freely, this states that the man who is easily distressed is also an easy prey to anxiety and fear.  For when stimuli cause distress by their presence, we are also afraid of the menace of their approach.  In other words, people who have strong fear reactions to actual dangers and stressful situations also show strong learned anxieties in the absence of these stimuli.  We cannot follow Cicero into the details of his discussion, but the elements of our modern way of looking at neurosis are certainly contained in his account. (Eysenck, 1990, p. 138)

This occurs in Cicero’s discussion of Platonic and Stoic theories regarding emotional suffering and its cure.  Eysenck therefore makes it clear that he considers Cicero to be describing a theory and practice similar to his own and to those of modern behaviour therapists in general.

Rational-Emotive Imagery (REI)

Albert Ellis, the founder of REBT, developed an influential technique known as Rational Emotive Imagery (REI); this is the main imagery technique used by his school of therapy.  There are a number of variations of this technique.  However, the basic formula can be described as follows.

      REI helps the client to question the validity of negative cognitions.  An anticipated activating event (A) is pictured, as if happening now, while the client mentally rehearses changing his negative emotions and behavioural reactions (C) by swapping his negative cognition (B) for a positive one.  Ellis describes the technique in the following words in his advice to patients, 

Use rational-emotive imagery to vividly imagine unpleasant activating events before they happen; let yourself feel unhealthily upset (anxious, depressed, enraged, or guilty) as you imagine them; then work on your feelings to change them to appropriate emotions (concern, sadness, healthy anger, or remorse) as you keep imagining some of the worst things happening.  Don’t give up until you actually do change your feelings.  (Ellis, How to Maintain and Enhance your Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy Gains)

This is achieved as follows, according to some REBT practitioners, 

[…] the client is instructed to imagine a feared situation and simultaneously repeats very forcefully to herself (either aloud or internally depending upon the situation) a previously negotiated helpful coping statement.  This helps clients to experience less anxiety and prepares them for difficult situations or it can be used to help them deal with how they behaved in an earlier situation.  (Curwen et al., 2000: 119-120)

As with most techniques in CBT, subjective measurements are taken before, during and after the exercise to make sure it is being done effectively.  Lack of change on a SUD scale, e.g., might suggest that the coping statement needs to be discussed and possibly changed.

      The basic formula is sometimes expressed in the acronym “FEAR” by modern therapists: “Face Everything And Recover.”  Meaning that by patiently and systematically confronting our fears, and accepting the situation, anxiety and other negative feelings will usually recede.  The act of confronting fears in reality or in imagination is known as “exposure” therapy.  It leads to what behaviourists call “habituation” or “extinction”, i.e., getting used to the situation, which tends to take the form of “desensitisation”, i.e., a reduction in the level of nervous arousal.

      Another useful version of the acronym FEAR, which relates to cognitive more than behavioural therapy, is “False Evidence Appearing Real.”  This can be interpreted very simply, in CBT terminology, as “thinking errors appearing real.”  As most of our fears are the result of thinking errors, as described in the ABC model, it follows that the problem situation itself is seldom as inherently frightening as we assume. 

Russell: The Conquest of Happiness

The influence of the Stoic tradition can clearly be seen in the writings of Bertrand Russell, one of the most influential philosophers of the Twentieth century.  Russell wrote one of the earliest modern self-help books, The Conquest of Happiness (1930).  He describes a philosophical method of overcoming anxiety and worry, indistinguishable from the premeditatio mallorum.  He also provides, arguably, the most lucid explanation of exposure therapy that one could wish for, 

Worry is a form of fear, and all forms of fear produce fatigue.  A man who has learnt not to feel fear will find the fatigue of daily life greatly diminished.  Now fear, in its most harmful form arises where there is some danger which we are unwilling to face. At odd moments horrible thoughts dart into our minds; what they are depends upon the person, but almost everybody has some kind of lurking fear. (Russell, 1930: 60)

 Russell provides his own examples, but he emphasises that this technique is part of a very general one for overcoming fear of all kinds, 

Probably all these people employ the wrong technique for dealing with their fear; whenever it comes into their mind, they try to think of something else; they distract their thoughts with amusement or work, or what not.  Now every kind of fears grows worse by not being looked at.  The effort of turning away one’s thoughts is a tribute to the horribleness of the spectre from which one is averting one’s gaze; the proper course with every kind of fear is to think about it rationally and calmly, but with great concentration, until it becomes completely familiar.  In the end familiarity will blunt its terrors; the whole subject will become boring, and our thoughts will turn away from it, not, as formerly, by an effort of will, but through mere lack of interest in the topic.  When you find yourself inclined to brood on anything, no matter what, the best plan always is to think about it even more than you naturally would until at last its morbid fascination is worn off.  (Russell, 1930: 60) 

Russell provides the following explanation of the technique itself, 

When some misfortune threatens, consider seriously and deliberately what is the very worst that could possibly happen.  Having looked this possible misfortune in the face, give yourself sound reasons for thinking that after all it would be no such very terrible disaster.  Such reasons always exist, since at the worst nothing that happens to oneself has any cosmic importance.  When you have looked for some time steadily at the worst possibility and have said to yourself with real conviction, “Well, after all, that would not matter so very much”, you will find that your worry diminishes to a quite extraordinary extent.  It may be necessary to repeat the process a few times, but in the end, if you have shirked nothing in facing the worst possible issue, you will find that your worry disappears altogether, and is replaced by a kind of exhilaration.  (Russell, 1930: 59-60)

 Spinoza: Remedia Affectuum (Remedies for the Emotions)

In the Seventeenth century, the Dutch thinker Spinoza, whom Russell greatly admired and studied in depth, produced a hugely influential work of philosophical therapy, the Ethics.  Spinoza was greatly influenced by classical literature on philosophical therapy and has, with some justification, been called “more stoic than the stoics.”  He recommends that “rules of living”, effectively affirmations similar to the Stoic precepts, should be internalised.

The best thing then we can bring about, as long as we have no perfect knowledge of our emotions is to conceive some right manner of living or certain rules of life, to commit them to memory, and to apply them continuously to the particular things which come in our way frequently in life, so that our imagination may be extensively affected by them and they may be always at hand for us.  (Spinoza, Ethics, V.10.n.)

Again, like the Stoics, Spinoza suggests that we mentally prepare for the typical problems that people are likely to encounter in life, 

But in order that this rule may be always at hand for us when we need it, we must often think of and meditate on the common injuries done to men, and in what manner and according to what method they may best be avoided [through the appropriate rule].  For thus we unite the [mental] image of the injury to the imagination of this rule, and it will always be at hand when an injury is done to us. (Ibid.) 

Spinoza first of all addresses the problem of irrational anger, and the principles which help us to moderate it in this way, adding “if the anger which arises from the greatest injuries is not easily overcome, it will nevertheless be overcome, although not without a wavering of the mind, in a far less space of time than if we had not previously meditated on these things.”  From anger he proceeds to discuss the conquest of fear, 

We must think of courage in the same manner in order to lay aside fear, that is, we must enumerate and often imagine the common perils of life and in what manner they may best be avoided and overcome by presence of mind and courage.  (Ibid.) 

He concludes this section on emotional remedies with an encouraging word for the student, 

And he that will diligently observe what is said here (for it is not difficult) and make use of it, will be able in a short space of time to direct his actions for the most part according to the command of reason. (Ibid.) 

The Ancient Origins of the Premeditatio

It is possible that the philosophical practice of mental preparation began with the most ancient of Western philosophers, the Pythagoreans, who meditated upon short, symbolic phrases, called “acusmata“, meaning “things listened to.”  Some writers suggest that the Pythagoreans would begin each morning by mentally rehearsing the day ahead and preparing themselves with the ideas which would help them act in an enlightened way.  Pythagoras flourished around 500BC, however, a similar daily regime seems also to have been adopted by the Stoics, and to still be in use by them over half a century later.

      Seneca, a Stoic philosopher and one of the greatest and most influential essayists of all time, was a Roman politician at time Jesus Christ and his disciples purportedly lived.  He discusses the exercise of mental preparation many times in relation to distressing life events, 

[…] we need to envisage every possibility and to strengthen the spirit to deal with the things which may conceivably come about.  Rehearse them in your mind: exile, torture, war, shipwreck.  (Seneca, Letter XCI) 

With regard to such blows of fate, which were common risks during his lifetime, Seneca writes, 

Escape them you cannot, scorn them you can.  And scorn them you will if by constant reflection you have anticipated future happenings.  Everyone faces up more bravely to a thing for which he has long prepared himself, sufferings, even, being withstood if they have been trained for in advance.  Those who are unprepared, on the other hand, are panic-stricken by the most insignificant happenings.  We must see to it that nothing takes us by surprise.  And since it is invariably unfamiliarity that makes a thing more formidable than it really is, this habit of continual reflection will ensure that no form of adversity finds you a complete beginner.  (Seneca, Letter CVII) 

Plutarch, a Roman philosopher of the early second century AD, writes in his essay On Contentment, 

Whoever it was who said, “Fortune, I have made a pre-emptive strike against you, and I have deprived you of every single loophole,” was not basing his confidence on bolts, locks and fortifications, but on principles and arguments which are available to anyone who wants them.  […] a mind which trains and strains itself to use rationality to conceive an image of illness and pain and exile will find that there is plenty of unreality, superficiality and unsoundness in the apparent problems and horrors each of them has to offer, as detailed rational argument demonstrates.  (Plutarch, On Contentment, 476C) 

He adds, “distress can be avoided by the beneficial practice of training oneself to gain the ability to look straight at fortune with open eyes.”  Likewise, the Stoic emperor Marcus Aurelius opens his personal therapeutic journal with a record of his use of mental preparation.  He writes to himself, 

Begin each day by telling yourself: Today I shall be meeting with interference, ingratitude, insolence, disloyalty, ill-will, and selfishness […] 

After reminding himself of the possible challenges he will face, as Emperor and general, he proceeds to rehearse his coping strategies, the beliefs which will help him see things more constructively, 

[…] none of those things can injure me, for nobody can implicate me in what is degrading.  Neither can I be angry with my brother or fall foul of him; for he and I were born to work together, like a man’s two hands, feet, or eyelids, or like the upper and lower rows of his teeth.  (Marcus Aurelius, 2:1) 

Marcus makes it clear that his mental preparation involves having his principles “ready to hand” (procheira), 

Take no enterprise in hand at haphazard, or without regard to the principles governing its proper execution.  (Marcus Aurelius, 4:2) 

The principles of right action are clearly thought of as affirmations or autosuggestions, by repeating them and contemplating them deeply, the Stoic absorbs their meaning at an experiential level. 

Your mind will be like its habitual thoughts; for the soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.   (Marcus Aurelius, 5:16) 

Positive affirmations such as these, however, have to be constantly reinforced, 

Principles can only lose their vitality when the first impressions from which they derive have sunk into extinction; and it is for you to keep fanning these continually into fresh flame.   (Marcus Aurelius, 7:2)

These are just a few of the comments found in classical authors which clearly relate to this theme of premeditation as a psychological and therapeutic exercise.  The analogies with modern psychotherapy are very apparent, as the remarks by Eysenck and Ellis show.  However, a great many other links can be found, or forged, between ancient and modern thought with regard to the therapy of the soul.

(Excerpt from Marcus Aurelius, The Meditations, Book 11 §18, translation by D. Robertson (c) 2009)

When offended by other people’s actions,

1. Remember the close bond between yourself and the rest of mankind…
2. Think of the characters of those who offend you at the table, in their beds, and so on. In particular, remember the effect their negative way of thinking has on them, and the misplaced confidence it gives them in their actions.
3. If what they’re doing is right, you’ve no reason to complain; and if it’s not right, then it must have been involuntary and unintentional. Because just as “no-one ever deliberately denies the truth,” according to Socrates, so nobody ever intentionally treats another person badly. That’s why these negative people are themselves insulted if anyone accuses them of injustice, ingratitude, meanness, or any other sort of offence against their neighbours -they just don’t realise they’re doing wrong.
4. You yourself, are no different from them, and upset people in various ways. You might avoid making some mistakes, but the thought and inclination is still there, even if cowardice or egotism or some other negative motive has held you back you from copying their mistakes.
5. Remember, you’ve got no guarantee they’re doing the wrong thing anyway, people’s motives aren’t always what they seem. There’s usually a lot to learn before any sure-footed moral judgements can be made about other people’s actions.
6. Tell yourself, when you feel upset and fed up, that human life is transient and only lasts a moment; it won’t be long before we’ll all have been laid to rest.
7. Get rid of this, make a decision to quit thinking of things as insulting, and your anger immediately disappears. How do you get rid of these thoughts? By realising that you’ve not really been harmed by their actions. Moreover, unless genuine harm to your soul is all that worries you, you’ll wind up being guilty of all sorts of offences against other people yourself.
8. Anger and frustration hurt us more than the things we’re annoyed about hurt us.
9. Kindness is an irresistible force, so long as it’s genuine and without any fake smiles or two-facedness. Even the most stubborn bad attitude is nothing, if you just keep being nice to the person concerned. Politely comment on his behaviour when you get the chance and, just when he’s about to have another go at you, gently make him self-conscious by saying “No, my son; we’re not meant for this. I’ll not be hurt; you’re just hurting yourself.” Subtly draw his attention to this general fact; even bees and other animals that live in groups don’t act like he does. Do it without any hint of sarcasm or nit-picking, though; do it with real affection and with your heart free from resentment. Don’t talk to him harshly like a school teacher or try to impress bystanders but, even though other people may be around, talk as if you’re alone together in private.

Keep these nine pieces of advice in mind, like nine gifts from the Muses; and while there’s still life in you, begin at last to be a man. While guarding yourself against being angry with others, though, be just as careful to avoid the opposite extreme, of toadying. One’s just as bad as the other, and both cause problems. With bouts of rage, always remind yourself that losing your temper is no sign of manhood. On the contrary, there’s more strength, as well as more natural humanity, in someone capable of remaining calm and gentle. He proves he’s got strength and nerve and guts, unlike his angry, complaining friend. Anger’s just as much a sign of weakness as bubbling with tears; in both cases we’re giving in to suffering.

Finally, a tenth idea, this time from the very leader of the Muses, Apollo himself. To expect bad men never to do bad things is just madness; it’s asking the impossible. And to let them abuse other people, and expect them to leave you alone, that is arrogance.

“All things come from One, and are resolved into One.”
- A precept of the Orphic Mysteries, c. 6th Century BC.

NATURE! We are surrounded and embraced by her: powerless to separate ourselves from her, and powerless to penetrate beyond her…
- Goethe, Aphorisms on Nature

Who Was Spinoza?

In former centuries, he was one of the most controversial and reviled philosophers in Europe but he is now seen as an intellectual hero of the Enlightenment. Benedictus de Spinoza (1632-1677) was a Jewish philosopher who lived in Holland where, refusing the offer of a prestigious university professorship, he earned his living as a lens-grinder until his untimely death from consumption. Spinoza developed an impressive and visionary metaphysical system, written in technical Latin and drawing together many themes from classical philosophy, which climaxed in a rational psychotherapy and method of personal philosophical enlightenment.

Spinoza is generally considered to be one of the most influential figures in the history of Western philosophy and, along with Descartes and Leibnitz, one of the three great “rationalist” philosophers of the European enlightenment period. His work is perhaps the most imposing example of classical philosophical therapy and pre-empts modern psychotherapy, especially cognitive-behavioural therapy (CBT), in many important respects. Bertrand Russell called Spinoza, ‘the noblest and most lovable of the great philosophers’ (1946: 552), and conceded that his grand theory, ‘was magnificent, and rouses admiration even in those who do not think it successful.’ (Russell, 1946: 553). Even someone who cannot accept the whole of Spinoza’s metaphysic, will often feel that his moral and psychological conclusions remain deeply profound, and that includes his psychotherapy as we shall see.

Spinoza was driven to develop a system of therapeutic self-help because of his own “existential” crisis. Though he considered himself Jewish, he had been excommunicated from the faith over his liberal interpretation of scripture, ritually cursed and cut adrift from his community. His published works were condemned as ‘forged in Hell by a renegade Jew and the Devil’, and banned from certain Jewish and Christian communities. In an unfinished manuscript on his method of self-improvement, Spinoza refers to his early uncertainty and craving for happiness, hinting at darker experiences of ‘extreme melancholy’, and his inner quest to procure philosophical balm for his troubled mind,

I thus perceived that I was in a state of great peril, and I compelled myself to seek with all my strength for a remedy [or "therapy"], however uncertain it might be; as a sick man struggling with a deadly disease, when he sees that death will surely be upon him [...] is compelled to seek such a remedy with all his strength, inasmuch as his whole hope lies therein. (De Intellectus Emendatione, 4-5)

Ironically, this document, like Spinoza’s most important work, The Ethics (or Ethica), was hidden until after his death because of the same threat of religious persecution which forced him to develop his “emotional remedies” in the first place.

Spinoza’s Relevance to Modern Psychotherapy

Human impotence in moderating and controlling the emotions I call slavery. For a man who is enslaved by passions is not his own master, but lies at the mercy of fortune such that he is often forced, though he may see what is better for him, to follow what is worse. (E4, Preface, my translation)

The main reason why Spinoza’s psychotherapy is not currently more popular is probably because modern readers have difficulty with his terminology. For instance, classical philosophers included what we now call “psychotherapy” or “self-help” under the broad heading of “ethics.” Spinoza’s Ethica has little to do with “morality” in the modern sense; it really describes a self-help method, a system of therapy for overcoming negative emotions and cultivating personal enlightenment. As one commentator writes, ‘It picks up ancient debates, where questions about the nature of knowledge and of the ultimate nature of things were integrated with reflection on the mental attitudes required for a well-lived life.’ (Lloyd, 1996: 141).

Those taught that psychotherapy began with Freud are therefore surprised to discover that a definite therapeutic tradition can be traced back through the great Stoic and Epicurean schools to the very ancient teachings of Socrates, and perhaps even Pythagoras (fl. 6th century BC). I will pass over these issues, though, sadly, modern therapists are not usually taught the history of their own field and its close-knit connection with Western philosophy (See my ‘Stoicism as Philosophical Psychotherapy’, Therapy Today, 2005). Suffice to say that Spinoza provides one of the most sophisticated models of philosophical psychotherapy, though he seems heavily indebted to Hellenistic philosophy. Leibnitz dubbed Spinoza as pioneering ‘the sect of the new Stoics’ , and many others have seen him as a “Neo-stoic” in disguise, but I think there is also strong evidence of Epicureanism in his writings. It is perhaps better to consider the possibility that Spinoza was weaving together various influences from ancient and medieval thought into a new philosophical whole. It is no coincidence that he was one of the last great philosophers to write mainly in Latin, and the language itself may be considered a major influence upon his philosophy.

A further obstacle to the modern reader lies in Spinoza’s use of the word “God” to denote the logico-metaphysical absolute from which his system is deduced. Again, brevity forces me to say only that Spinoza’s “God” is very much a philosopher’s God, a pure metaphysical concept, and not at all the insidious anthropomorphism which bewitches the popular imagination. Einstein once said, “I believe in Spinoza’s God, Who reveals Himself in the lawful harmony of the world, not in a God Who concerns Himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.” (Quoted in Einstein: Science and Religion, Arnold V. Lesikar)

For Spinoza, the whole of existence is, without exception, sacred and divine when considered in its entirety, a position known as “pantheism.” Not surprisingly, his philosophy struck a chord with mystically-inclined poets including Goethe and Wordsworth; and it stoked the ire of frightened, religious bigots who condemned him, somewhat self-contradictorily, as an atheist, heretic, Satanist, and pagan (q.v., Letter LXXIII). He caused an ongoing storm in Europe by referring to Deus sive Natura, ‘God aka Nature’, and indeed his metaphysic can be more credibly presented nowadays by substituting “Nature” for “God.” The fact that I have done so is only likely to offend people ignorant of Spinoza’s professed meaning.

Spinoza’s Philosophy & Psychology

“I am fascinated by Spinoza’s pantheism, but admire even more his contributions to modern thought because he is the first philosopher to deal with the soul and the body as one, not two separate things.” (Albert Einstein, quoted in Glimpses of the Great (1930) by G. S. Viereck)

Monism & Pantheism (The Bigger Picture)

Metaphysical Nature (Natura) is the concept of something which exists necessarily, by definition (causa sui). It is absolutely infinite, without borders or limitations in any dimension or sphere of being. It precedes, encompasses and pervades everything. Everything that exists does so by reference to it, and within it. It is the cloth from which everything is cut, the solitary metaphysical ground or substance of all that exists. It is the essence of everything, and all things conceived as a unified whole. When perceived accurately, it is accepted with absolute certainty as perfectly real, a necessary and eternal truth, because, ex hypothesi, its very existence is part of its essence.

By [Nature] I understand a being absolutely infinite, that is, a substance consisting of infinite attributes, each of which expresses eternal and infinite essence. (E1, Definition 6)

If we were to view it as conscious, we would probably want to call it “God”, though doing so may be more trouble than it’s worth. People have therefore vacillated between dubbing Spinoza as “god-intoxicated” on one hand, and an irredeemable atheist on the other: he is, of course, both and neither.

My atheism, like that of Spinoza, is true piety toward the universe and denies only gods fashioned by men in their own image, to be servants of their human interests. (George Santayana, Soliloquies in England and Later Soliloquies, 1922: 246)

Spinoza’s metaphysical “Nature” exceeds the vastness of space and time, and the depth of the human imagination. Your body is a tiny, wandering cell within its vast body, your mind a slender and shadowy thought within its cosmic mind. This is Spinoza’s main premise.

For Spinoza, contemplation of the essence of Nature as an “absolutely infinite” metaphysical substance, is the highest philosophical and therapeutic method. The Nobel-prize winning writer, Isaac Bashevis Singer’s short story, The Spinoza of Market Street, an otherwise flawed effort, describes the euphoric vision of a Spinozist thus,

Yes, the divine substance was extended and had neither beginning nor end; it was absolute, indivisible, eternal, without duration, infinite in its attributes. Its waves and bubbles danced in the universal cauldron, seething with change, following the unbroken chain of causes and effects, and he, Dr. Fischelson, with his unavoidable fate, was part of this. (Singer, 1962: 25)

When asked why he doesn’t attend synagogue, the old scholar replies, “God is everywhere [...] In the synagogue. In the marketplace. In this very room. We ourselves are parts of God.” (Singer, 1962: 21).
Pantheism is a philosophy favoured by mystics and ancient religions. Indeed, nowadays, it is tempting to compare Spinoza’s nameless, faceless, infinite God with the Brahman of Hindu vedanta, or the Sunyata of Buddhist metaphysics. Spinoza has therefore been taken as representative of a “perennial philosophy” (philosophia perennis). Aldous Huxley, who wrote a book on the subject, defines the perennial philosophy as, ‘the metaphysic that recognizes a divine Reality substantial to the world of things and lives and minds; the psychology that finds in the soul something similar to, or even identical with, divine Reality; the ethic that places man’s final end in the knowledge of the immanent and transcendent Ground of all being.’ (Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy, 1946: 9).
To understand ourselves, transient things, and the individual events in life in relation to the whole in this way is to see things, in Spinoza’s celebrated phrase, sub specie aeternitatis; a vision of everything that happens as an aspect of the same timeless essence of Nature. All this heady stuff is probably too much for the purposes of practical psychotherapy, nevertheless it is important to grasp the theoretical context of Spinoza’s techniques, albeit in broad strokes, before proceeding to discuss them -it would be folly to pretend that none of this matters. If I remember rightly, it was upon hearing a reading of Goethe’s beautiful poem on Nature, which paints the material world itself in godlike hues à la Spinoza, that the young Sigmund Freud was inspired to dedicate his life to plumbing the depths of human nature.

Double-Aspect Psychology (Mind-Body Unity)

The philosopher Rene Descartes developed the modern world’s most influential philosophy of psychology, which postulates that mind and matter are two completely distinct substances. In a sense, the theory of “Cartesian dualism” merely confirms a latent tendency in folk-psychology to regard the mind and body as separate objects. Indeed, the same presupposition, deeply engrained in our language, still pervades contemporary psychology and psychotherapy.

However, mind-body dualism was seen as an incoherent theory by almost everyone who stopped to consider its implications in any detail. In the 20th Century, it was fiercely attacked both by existentialists and behaviourists, but it seems to keep boomeranging back into our collective consciousness. The Cambridge philosopher Gilbert Ryle famously dubbed it the “ghost in the machine”, the philosophy of mind received by default in modern society. However, Spinoza studied Descartes closely and was hot on his heels with a counter-argument.

Mind and body are one and the same individual which is conceived now under the attribute of thought, and now under the attribute of [physical] extension. (E2, 21, n.)

I cannot engage further with metaphysics here. I hope it will suffice to say that Spinoza argued, very convincingly, that mind and matter are two side of the same coin. He replaced Descartes’ dual-substance theory of mind with what became known as a dual-aspect theory. Putting things back together is often a wiser strategy than breaking them asunder, especially with regard to the human sense of self.

Modern psychotherapy, CBT in particular, is wont to speak of a cause-effect connection between the body and mind. For instance, that negative cognitions “cause” negative feelings and behaviour. The ghost of Spinoza would object that this seems to be a throwback to Cartesian dualism; there can be no “causal” relationship between body and mind because they are the same thing viewed from two different angles. The relationship between them is “closer than close”, it is one of total union. Hence, it makes no more sense to say that thoughts “cause” emotions and behaviour, or vice versa, than it does to say that the circumference of a circle causes its diameter. You might say that a person worries and gives himself an ulcer, an example of cause-effect between the mind and body. However, I would rather say that his worried brain caused the ulcer, one part of his body causing damage to another, and that his worried mind was just another aspect of the same event.

Spinoza’s Philosophy of Love (Positive Psychology)

Spinoza famously labels the fundamental emotion, which man experiences when he accurately perceives the essence of universal Nature, Amor Dei Intellectualis, the “intellectual love of God.” Given my reservations about Spinoza being miscast as a theologian, I would paraphrase this, in line with his writings, as “the rational, or philosophical, love of Nature.” This is the feeling Einstein claimed motivated most great scientists, a quasi-religious devotion to understanding and contemplating the essence of life and the universe. Moreover, its connection to therapy is that it is both the key to emotional insight and its conclusion, ‘he who understands himself and his emotions loves [Nature], and the more so the more he understands himself and his emotions.’ (E5, 15).

I cannot emphasise enough that contrary also to those who would miscast Spinoza, and philosophy in general, as arid intellectualism, Spinoza’s therapy is essentially founded upon a philosophy of love, one of the dominant themes in the Ethica. Spinoza argues that the ultimate human emotion is an active, rational, love of existence itself and from this descend in turn all other human emotions in fragmentary form. This is the true meaning of “Platonic love” as expressed by Socrates in The Symposium, and the meaning of the very word “philosophy”, which most have forgotten means “love of enlightenment.” Philosophers are essentially lovers of contemplation and the classical quest for wisdom is a labour of love toward apprehension of absolute Nature. Hence, the appeal of Spinoza’s philosophy to great poets becomes most apparent.

The Essence of Psychotherapy

Modern readers of Spinoza must first come to terms with the fact that he envisages a “deductive” model of psychotherapy, in which its essence is inferred from a handful of metaphysical axioms by a process of pure reasoning, i.e., a priori and without experiment or observation; ‘we shall determine solely by the knowledge of the mind the therapies for the emotions.’ (E5, Preface, my translation).
This method proceeds logically but not empirically, so many find it hard to decide whether they consider it “scientific” or not. Deductive arguments of this kind are traditionally considered legitimate proof in mathematics and formal logic, etc. Indeed, the Ethica is styled on the format of Euclid’s Elements, the ancient textbook of geometry, and Spinoza even claims to treat ‘human actions and desires precisely as though I were dealing with lines, planes and bodies.’ (E3, Preface). Nevertheless, it seems peculiar nowadays to contemplate a psychotherapy that has more in common with maths than experimental psychology. Nietzsche, otherwise an admirer, was forced to bewail, ‘that hocus-pocus of mathematical form with which Spinoza encased his philosophy as if in brass.’ (Beyond Good & Evil, §5). In Spinoza’s defence, however, his method seems less absurd to most academic philosophers and many people, including some great scientists, feel it to have borne impressive fruit. As one contemporary philosopher writes,

The style of these works is sparse, unadorned, and yet solemn and imposing; the occasional aphorisms jump from the page with all the greater force, in that they appear as the surprising but necessary consequences of arguments presented with mathematical exactitude. (Scruton, 1986: 19)

Another remarkable consequence of this method is that it entails the assumption that we already possess an innate knowledge of the essence of psychotherapy, albeit in a confused form. Spinoza writes of the therapy of emotions ‘which I think every one experiences, but does not accurately observe nor distinctly see’ (E5, preface). However, Spinoza is a realist in this respect and keen to emphasise that he sees our ability for self-mastery as fairly limited; he only wishes to illustrate the extent to which it is possible, under the right circumstances, to achieve some degree of enlightenment and peace of mind.

The last section of the Ethica, on ‘Human Freedom’, introduces his proof of ‘the path or lifestyle which leads to freedom.’ Spinoza sets out to demonstrate ‘the power of the mind, or of reason’, and ‘the extent and nature of its dominion over the emotions, for their control and moderation.’ (E5, Preface). Believing that he has exposed the essence of philosophical therapy with mathematical certainty, he goes so far as to write,

I have now gone through all the therapies for the emotions, or all that the mind, considered in itself alone, can do against them. (E5, 20 n., my italics)

Spinoza therefore proceeds to summarise the five essential processes in which philosophical psychotherapy consists. These can only be properly understood by reference to Spinoza’s philosophy as a whole but I will attempt a brief outline before proceeding to discuss his more empirical therapy.

Spinoza’s Therapeutic Armamentarium

1. Cognitive Insight into the Emotions. (Cognitive Restructuring)

‘In the actual knowledge [or "cognition"] of the emotions.’

The essence of Spinoza’s psychotherapy is the idea that cognitive insight into the nature of desire and emotion is necessarily therapeutic. Spinoza carefully defines what he means by such knowledge in the Ethica and provides schematic examples. For instance, when specific emotions are understood in the light of his theory of mind, of pain and pleasure, and “active” and “passive” emotion, a cognitive transformation occurs in our experience of them. When we realise that our thinking shapes our emotion we can learn to actively choose rational emotions, rather than being passively swept along by emotions which impose themselves upon us. True knowledge of the emotions also entails an understanding of the extent to which they are founded upon confused (irrational) cognitions and their purification in terms of accurate ideas. This resembles the “cognitive restructuring” of emotion in CBT.

Spinoza defines accurate cognition as occurring, ‘when a thing is perceived solely through its essence, or through the knowledge of its proximate cause [causa proxima]‘ (De Intellectus Emendatione, 8). Some modern philosophers, notably Sir Stuart Hampshire, have argued that this kind of insight prefigures Freud’s development psychoanalytic interpretation. However, Spinoza himself provides many examples of what he means by the essence of emotion and these clearly show that he is referring to insight based on the current cognitive structure of emotion, similar to modern cognitive therapy, and not repressed childhood libidinal attachments, etc., as postulated by psychodynamic therapy. I think Spinoza would say that the childhood antecedents of an adult emotion are no longer part of its essence, but merely its “remote cause”, and therefore understanding them does not constitute the kind of accurate cognition referred to in his therapy; there is, of course, no trace of anything even loosely resembling Freudian interpretation to be found anywhere in his writings.

The feeling that an interpretation is correct, or the supposed recovery of a repressed memory, would be classed by Spinoza as inadequate (hypothetical) knowledge, based upon sensation and imagination, rather than deductive reasoning. Spinoza would also seem to imply that recollection of the historical origin of an emotion provides unreliable knowledge unless we already accurately perceive the essence of the emotion as it exists in the present (q.v., De Intellectus Emendatione, pp. 10-11). As an advocate of the cognitive-behavioural tradition, I would concur. According to a well-known legend, Guatama Buddha said that if we find a man wounded by an archer, there’s no point debating who made the arrow or where it came from, we should set to work immediately removing the arrowhead and repairing the wound. It’s knowledge of the proximate (“maintaining”) causes of suffering that Spinoza thinks we should be concerned about.

2. Separation of Rational Emotion from Imaginary Causes. (ABC Model)

‘In the [mental] separation of the emotions from the idea ["cognition"] of an external cause, which we imagine confusedly.’

Spinoza argues that when emotions are accurately understood we perceive them as determined primarily by our own internal images and ideas rather than by the external “triggers” which we naturally tend to blame them upon. We say “He made me angry”, but it would be more accurate to say, “I made myself angry toward him.” When we stop blaming our feelings on others and take responsibility for them ourselves, we become fundamentally empowered. This is strikingly similar to the idea of ‘cognitive mediation’, or the ABC model, in modern CBT. Indeed, Aaron Beck, the founder of cognitive therapy, quotes the following passage from Spinoza as one of the chapter mottos in his seminal Cognitive Therapy & the Emotional Disorders (1976).

I saw that all the things I feared, and which feared me had nothing good or bad in them save insofar as the mind was affected by them. (Spinoza, quoted in Beck, 1976:156)

Spinoza writes,

Wherefore the reality of true thought must exist in the thought itself, without reference to other thoughts; it does not acknowledge the object as its cause, but must depend on the actual power and nature of the understanding. [...] Thus that which constitutes the reality of a true thought must be sought in the thought itself, and deduced from the nature of the understanding. (De Intellectus Emendatione, 26)

By which I take him to mean that a rational belief is necessarily derived from some active proof and insofar as an idea is experienced as being triggered passively by external events it is irrational. There is no causal relationship between body and mind. Therefore, when we assume that a physical event, including another person’s actions toward us, causes our emotional response we are necessarily in contradiction.

3. The Necessary & Eternal Basis of Rational Emotions.

‘In [the perception of] time, whereby emotions referring to [timeless] things which we distinctly understand overpower those which refer to [transient] things perceived in a confused and fragmentary manner.’

When we accurately understand the essence of a thing we perceive what is constant and unchangeable in it. The truth that the angles of a triangle add up to two right angles is timeless; though triangular shaped things in nature may come and go the concept remains eternally the same. Because reason perceives things in relation to essential truths it gives rise to emotions which are more rational, stable, and powerful.

The more we truly understand people, for example, the less our feelings are swayed by individual appearances and the more rational and constant they become because they are determined by general principles of our philosophy. If I conclude, with Spinoza and Socrates, that people essentially desire happiness that will become a constant factor in my emotional responses, if I have no philosophy of human nature I will respond to each event according to the vagaries of habit and irrational association.

A famous example, but one likely to provoke much misunderstanding: The great Stoic sage Seneca is reputed to have handled his own execution in this way. His former student the emperor Nero -an arch-enemy of philosophy- forced Seneca to fall on his sword (literally). Seneca, the most reasonable man in the world, reputedly calmed his frantic supporters by observing that everyone already knew Nero was a murderer, therefore it should come as no surprise when the time comes for him to murder his opponents. In doing so, however, he was utilising an ancient therapeutic formula derived from philosophy and rhetoric. The same technique is rehearsed by Marcus Aurelius in his journal of meditations,

When you run up against someone else’s shamelessness, ask yourself this: Is a world without shameless people possible?
No.
Then don’t ask the impossible. There have to be shameless people in the world. This is one of them.
The same for someone vicious or untrustworthy, or with any other defect. Remembering that the whole class has to exist will make you more tolerant of its members. [...]
Yes, boorish people do boorish things. What’s strange or unheard-of about that? Isn’t it yourself that you should reproach for not anticipating that they’d act this way? (Meditations, 9: 42, Hays)

For Seneca, there could be no anxiety in the face of the inevitable. He knew what to expect from life and from mad emperors, and when Nero’s hired thugs came to put him to death he was serene because he was prepared to meet his fate. (Of course, if there had been an escape route, no doubt Seneca would have taken it.)

For the Stoics, irrational anxiety was always accompanied by a kind of feigned surprise and naïve indignation incompatible with reason and common sense. On the day of his death, Seneca felt the same way about his murderers that he had always felt, because his emotions were based on a long-standing perception of the general situation and not a superficial gut-reaction to the heavy knock on the door of Nero’s guards. If we all know that we must necessarily die, why should death frighten us any more when it is close than when it is far away? This is the “constancy” of the ideal Sage who “never changes his mind”, because his deepest layer of emotion is rooted in a clear and distinct perception of the timeless essence of Nature.

4. The Multiple Causes of Rational Emotion. (Determinism & Empathy)

‘In the multitude of causes whereby emotions are fostered which refer to the common properties of things or to [the essence of Nature itself, which Spinoza calls "God"].’

To understand things rationally is to do so by reference to philosophical principles, and ultimately the essential idea of Nature itself. Instead of responding to individual “triggers” in our environment, which send us hither and thither, our emotions are shaped by the whole structure of our rational world-view. When we see the common properties of things we respond to things in context rather than in isolation and our feelings become balanced and rational. Under this heading, presumably, fall the therapeutic effects of determinism so fundamental to both Spinozism and Stoicism. The last of Spinoza’s example rules of life states,

[...] in so far as we understand, we can desire nothing save that which is necessary, nor can we absolutely be contented with anything save what is true: and therefore insofar as we understand this rightly, the endeavour of the best part of us is in harmony with the order of the whole of nature. (E4, Appendix XXXII)

The more we understand, the more we experience external events as causally determined, and the actions of ourselves and other people as determined by various motives and causes. To understand all is to forgive all. Einstein puts Spinoza’s theory of empathic understanding very neatly in a letter, discussing the Christian rule of life, “love thine enemy”,

I agree with your remark about loving your enemy as far as actions are concerned. But for me the cognitive basis is the trust in an unrestricted causality. ‘I cannot hate him, because he must do what he does.’ That means for me more Spinoza than the prophets. (Einstein, in a letter to Michele Besso (6 January 1948))

Spinoza believed in absolute determinism, and that this assumption in itself conveyed a sense of contentment in lieu of specific causal knowledge. The philosophical Sage’s determinism about life and other people is meant to generate rational equanimity similar to the “unconditional acceptance” of REBT. Therapists may be surprised to find a similar premise in the canon of behaviour therapy but, to some extent, behaviourism and Spinozism are natural allies,

Objectivity, empathy, and sensitivity to suffering are intrinsic to the behaviour therapist’s approach to his patients. The objectivity follows from the knowledge that all behaviour, including cognitive behaviour, is subject to causal determination no less than is the behaviour of falling bodies or magnetic fields. [...] To explain how the patient’s neurosis arose out of a combination or chain of particular events helps [empathic] understanding. (Wolpe, 1990: 59)

5. Rational Conditioning of Emotion.

‘Finally, in the capacity for mental self-regulation of the emotions, whereby they are organised and mutually associated with each other.’ (E5, 20, n., my translations )

I have translated this passage to highlight the notion of “emotional self-regulation”, or the rational organisation of one’s thoughts and feelings. The previous methods were techniques of “pure reason” which followed necessarily from cognitive insight into the emotions. Spinoza seems here to acknowledge a range of empirical techniques, whereby the mind can also engineer its habits of thinking so that emotions are conditioned to be associated with each other in a rational and constructive manner. ‘By this power of rightly organising and associating the modifications of the body we can bring out about that we are not easily affected by bad emotions.’ (E5, 10, n.)

This more “empirical” mode of philosophical therapy bears obvious resemblance to techniques and principles found in modern cognitive and behavioural therapies, which we shall now consider.

Empirical Techniques of Philosophical Psychotherapy

5.1 Ordering of Contrary Associations (Reciprocal Inhibition)

Joseph Wolpe adapted Sherrington’s theory of “reciprocal inhibition” in neurology, making it the core mechanism of the Behaviour Therapy developed in the 1960s. As the name indicates, when two mutually exclusive neurological states coincide the most powerful will inhibit the weaker, a phenomenon variously known as “counter-conditioning” or “response competition.” This basic mechanism has many therapy applications, the most typical being the use of physical relaxation to systematically extinguish nervous anxiety.

If a response antagonistic to anxiety can be made to occur in the presence of anxiety-evoking stimuli so that it is accompanied by a complete or partial suppression of the anxiety responses, the bond between these stimuli and the anxiety responses will be weakened. (Wolpe, Psychotherapy by Reciprocal Inhibition, 1958: 71)

Although this concept was pre-empted by earlier behaviourists and hypnotherapists, Wolpe believed himself to be the first to make it a central and explicit principle of psychotherapy. Nevertheless, three hundred years before Wolpe, Spinoza made it one of the axioms (E5, A1) underlying his psychotherapy. He concludes that a powerful emotion will suppress a weaker contrary one, including the suppression of fear by mental calm (animi acquiescentia).

An emotion can neither be hindered nor removed save by a contrary emotion and one stronger than the emotion which is to be checked. (E, 4, Prop VII)

However, Spinoza’s “dual-aspect” psychology attempts to resolve the opposition between cognitive and behavioural theories, three hundred years before it became a bone of contention in modern psychotherapy.

5.2 Contemplation of Virtue & the Sage (Covert Modelling)

An ancient philosophical technique consists in contemplating the character of an imaginary wise man, a perfectly enlightened and self-possessed philosopher, the ideal of the Sage. As one modern commentator phrases it,

The Ethics describes the free man, who has risen to the higher levels of cognition, mastered his passions, and reached understanding of himself and the world. (Scruton, 1986: 95).

The Sage is not a real man, of course, nobody is perfect. However, the concept of the Sage is the concept of man-made-perfect and the clear and distinct perception of this goal acts as the moral compass of the philosopher. Spinoza claims that the moral terms “good” and “bad” only have meaning in a relative sense, insofar as ‘we want to form for ourselves an idea of man upon which we may look as a model of human nature’, and we may refer to things which are good or bad at helping us to approach this ideal. (E4, Preface). We may meditate upon the strengths of an ideal Sage, of a real-life hero or role-model, or any strengths manifested by ourselves or others. Contemplation of the Sage resembles, e.g., Cautela’s Behaviour Therapy technique of “covert modelling.”

Though nobody can attain perfect wisdom, ‘meanwhile man conceives a human character much more stable than his own, and sees that there is no reason why he should not himself acquire such a character.’ This character consists in rational love and ‘the knowledge of the union existing between the mind and the whole of nature.’ (De Intellectus Emendatione, 6). Spinoza refers to the work of approaching this ideal as a “purification” of the intellect, the original philosophical meaning of katharsis, the effect of which is supreme peace of mind,

[...] the Sage, insofar as he is considered as such, is scarcely disturbed in mind: but being conscious of himself, of [Nature], and of things, by a certain eternal necessity, he never ceases to be, but possesses eternally true peace of mind (acquiescentia). (E5, 47, Note)

In relation to this, Spinoza observes that in conditioning the mind by means of mental imagery, the focus of our attention should always be upon the pleasant qualities we wish to cultivate and not the unpleasant ones we seek to avoid.

But we must note, that in arranging our thoughts and conceptions we should always bear in mind that which is good in every individual thing, in order that we may always be determined to action by an emotion of pleasure. (E5 P10, Note)

This conclusion follows from Spinoza’s observation that we cannot imagine something as absent without imagining its presence unless we focus our mind on a contrary idea with which it is mutually exclusive. This is a basic axiom of modern hypnotherapy. The clichéd example being the obvious difficulty in obeying the command “Don’t imagine an elephant!” in response to which most people will do just the opposite and picture one. More importantly, if we focus on problems, we risk becoming engrossed in them,

For instance, if a man sees that he is too keen in the pursuit of honour, let him think over its right use, the end for which it should be pursued, and the means whereby he may attain it. Let him not think of its misuse, and its emptiness, and the fickleness of mankind, and the like, whereof no man thinks except through a morbidness of disposition; with thoughts like these do the most ambitious most torment themselves, when they despair of gaining the distinctions they hanker after, and in thus giving vent to their anger would fain appear wise. Wherefore it is certain that those who cry out the loudest against the misuse of honour and the vanity of the world, are those who most greedily covet it. (E5 P10, Note)

The inability of the senses to represent absence (or “non-being”) without imagining presence also explains the importance of reciprocal inhibition in psychotherapy. To remove anxiety, we imagine the presence of calm and relaxation, a positive and contrary state, rather than merely trying to imagine the absence of fear.

Thus he who would govern his emotions and appetite solely by the love of freedom strives, as far as he can, to gain a knowledge of the virtues and their causes, and to fill his spirit with the joy which arises from the true knowledge of them: he will in no wise desire to dwell on men’s faults, or to carp at his fellows, or to revel in a false show of freedom. (E5 P10, Note)

This is undoubtedly related to Spinoza’s striking rejection of the Socratic meditation upon death (melete thanatou): ‘A free man thinks of nothing less than of death, and his wisdom is a meditation not on death but on life.’ (E4, 17).

The contemplation of virtue in general, whether that means seeing the best in others or visualising the ideal Sage, prepares us with a repertoire of vivid and lively images which are ready-to-hand and can be used counteract negative emotions in the future by “reciprocal inhibition.”

5.3 Mental Fortitude (Ego-Strength)

Spinoza famously argues that the desire for self-preservation (conatus) is the very essence of man. (Another point best understood by reference to his writings.) The power of the mind to act freely and autonomously in accord with reason, love, and self-interest is therefore the essence of human excellence. In this respect, Spinoza appears to follow the connotation of the Latin word for virtue (virtus) which can also mean strength, courage, or vitality, ‘by virtue and power I understand the same thing.’ (E4, D8). He therefore argues that “strength of mind” (animi fortitudo), a kind of basic strength of character closely-knitted to the rational love of existence, is the primary human “virtue.” (We still speak today of someone’s “strengths” or their forte.) For Spinoza, virtue in this (pre-Christian) sense cannot logically co-exist with suffering (pathos); as the ancient saying goes: “The good man is always happy.” Indeed, he is happy, healthy, loving, rational, and empowered. Spinoza’s ideal of mental fortitude is obviously comparable to concepts such as “self-efficacy” or “ego-strength” in modern psychotherapy and with certain concepts in the field of Positive Psychology.

He also divides mental strength, or virtue, into two principal modes of active and rational emotion: animositas et generositas. The technical meaning is difficult to translate, but it is clear from his comments that animositas (“love of life”?) denotes the virtue of rational self-interest or egotism, and generositas (“love of mankind”?) that of rational social-interest or altruism. For Spinoza, seen through the lens of his philosophy, these two basic drives are not in conflict but complementary; they can therefore easily be compared to the notions of rational self-interest and social-interest in Ellis’ REBT.

5.4 The Rules of Life (Positive Cognitions)

In common with the Stoics and other ancient therapeutic schools, Spinoza recommends that simple philosophical principles, the “rules of living” (vitæ dogmata), should be internalised by repeated memorisation.

The best thing then we can bring about, as long as we have no perfect knowledge of our emotions is to conceive some right manner of living or certain rules of life, to commit them to memory, and to apply them continuously to the particular things which come in our way frequently in life, so that our imagination may be extensively affected by them and they may be always at hand for us. (Spinoza, Ethics, V.10.n.)

Of course, they are also comparable to the positive cognitions, coping statements, self-statements, etc., of modern CBT, or to the affirmations and autosuggestions of the hypnotherapists.
In Graeco-Roman philosophical therapy such maxims seem to have been designed to function as an aide memoire or mnemonic. They often take the form of a short, pithy sentence of which the famous inscriptions (“Know thyself”, “Nothing in excess”) at the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi were perhaps the most famous. Spinoza gives the following example. One of the rules of life suggested by the Ethica is that hatred is best met with love and the virtue of social-interest (generositas) and not requited with hatred. Spinoza recommends that we meditate on philosophical “rules” that say,

• Our true advantage lies in cultivating love not hatred within ourselves.
• Mutual friendship is a valuable good in life.
• True peace of mind results from the rational way of life.
• Men act by the necessity of their nature in causing offence, just like any force of nature. (E5, P10, Note)

When these ideas and their implications are borne in mind they counteract, or at least weaken, excessive anger associated with the perceived offence by determining our emotions rationally, through a complex of positive and empowering mental associations.

5.5 The Premeditation of Misfortunes (Imaginal Exposure)

Spinoza pre-empts several key notions found in Behaviour Therapy. Perhaps most fundamentally, he clearly identifies, under another name, the role of classical (Pavlovian) conditioning principles in psychotherapy,

If the human body has once been affected by two or more bodies [i.e., physical stimuli] at the same time, when the mind afterwards imagines any of them, it will straightway remember the others also. (E2, P6)

One of the cardinal techniques both of ancient and modern psychotherapy is that in which a person visualises distressing events, usually one’s to be faced in the near future, while mentally rehearsing more positive and rational beliefs and the emotions and actions that accompany them. The Stoics called this premeditatio malorum, preparing the mind in advance, by contemplative meditation, to cope well with misfortune. The Stoic writings of Seneca, e.g., provide many examples of the therapeutic use of premeditation. In modern CBT many variations of the same basic concept are found and referred to as imaginal exposure, covert rehearsal, rational-emotive imagery, etc.

Hence, Spinoza suggests that we mentally prepare for the typical problems that people are likely to encounter in life by rehearsing belief in our philosophical and therapeutic “rules of life.” Spinoza uses the two cardinal virtues of his philosophy, self-interest and social-interest, as examples. First he explains how social-interest (generositas) can be developed by rehearsing the relevant philosophical maxims in the Ethica,

For example, we stated among the rules of life that hatred must be overcome by love or [compassion and social-interest], not requited by reciprocated hatred. But in order that this rule may be always at hand for us when we need it, we must often think of and meditate on the common types of harm done to men, and in what manner and according to what method they may best be avoided through [compassionate social-interest]. For thus we unite the image of the harm done to the imagination of this rule, and it will always be at hand when harm is done to us. (Ethics, V.10.n.)

Spinoza adds “if the anger which arises from the greatest injuries is not easily overcome, it will nevertheless be overcome, although not without a wavering of the mind, in a far less space of time than if we had not previously meditated on these things.” From anger he proceeds to discuss the conquest of fear by means of the cardinal virtue of self-interest (animositas),

We must think of [courage and self-interest] in the same manner in order to lay aside fear, that is, we must enumerate and often imagine the common perils of life and in what manner they may best be avoided and overcome by mindfulness (animi præsentia) and [courageous self-interest]. (Ethics, V.10.n.)

In other words, Spinoza recognises a kind of classical conditioning in the memorisation of positive beliefs and their repeated association with the mental image of challenging situations in a way that pre-empts the use of Systematic Desensitisation and mental rehearsal in modern cognitive and behavioural therapies.

Conclusions

It behoves a simple introduction of this kind to end by citing Spinoza’s famous and oft-quoted conclusion to the Ethica,

If the road I have shown to lead to this is very difficult, it can yet be discovered. And clearly it must be hard when it is so seldom found. For how could it be that if salvation were close at hand and could be found without difficulty it should be neglected by almost all? But all excellent things are as difficult as they are rare. (E5, Prop 42 n.)

The way of the Spinozistic Sage is indeed a road less travelled. However, the earlier section on emotional therapy concludes on a more encouraging note; if the path is difficult, the steps are not,

Whosoever will diligently observe and practise these precepts (which indeed are not difficult) will verily, in a short space of time, be able, for the most part, to direct his actions according to the commandments of reason. (E5, 10, n.)

I have presented Spinoza’s conclusions only, in very summary form, and not his deductive “proofs.” I strongly encourage readers to study the Ethica for themselves. As he himself implores his readers, ‘not to reject as false any paradoxes he may find here, but to take the trouble to reflect on the chain of reasoning by which they are supported.’ (De Intellectus Emendatione, 17). In a sense, as I hope you will see, the process of grappling with Spinoza’s ideas, is itself the fundamental technique of his psychotherapy. Nevertheless, I hope that I have shown something of the relevance of Spinoza to modern therapists and whet their appetite for his philosophy.

References

Damasio, Antonio (2004). Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, & the Feeling Brain. Vintage Books.
Deleuze, Gilles (1970). Spinoza: Practical Philosophy. San Francisco: City Light Books
Hampshire, Stuart (2005). Spinoza & Spinozism. Oxford: OUP
Lloyd, Genevieve (1996). Spinoza & the Ethics. Oxford: Routledge.
Robertson, Donald (2005). ‘Stoicism as Philosophical Psychotherapy’, Therapy Today, July, 2005.
Scruton, Roger (1986). Spinoza: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: OUP
Singer, Isaac Bashevis (1962). The Spinoza of Market Street. Middlesex: Penguin.

Ω

This is part of a longer video interview that I did recently on Stoicism and psychotherapy.