3 Insights Into Happiness From a Greek Philosopher

Epicurus’s short letter contains timeless recommendations for a simple, happy life.

A detail from a "School of Athens" by Raphael. The Greek philosopher Epicurus (in blue, center) is known for promoting the pursuit of pleasure, but there's more to that story than meets the eye. Public Domain

What exactly is pleasure? What causes pain, and how could it be avoided?

Perennial questions like these fascinated the Greek philosopher Epicurus. While philosophers before him had thought of and talked about happiness, Epicurus was the first to define it exclusively in terms of pain and pleasure. Only three letters and two collections of quotations have survived from his prolific career. Among them was his “Letter to Menoeceus,” which contains timeless recommendations for a simple, happy life.

A Roman portrait of Epicurus, made after a lost Greek original. Late 3rd century B.C. to early 2nd century B.C. White marble; 19 inches. Public Domain

The Garden of Epicurus

Epicurus (341 B.C.–270 B.C.), whose name means “companion,” has long been a controversial figure. Supporters of his philosophy have branded him a genius with penetrating insights into the nature of happiness, while opponents have blamed him for encouraging the pursuit of ruinous pleasures at the expense of moderation. This debate began during Epicurus’ lifetime, but it continues today.

Epicurus was born in 341 B.C. on Samos, an island on the Western coast of modern-day Turkey. Both of his parents were Athenian citizens, which made him an Athenian by law. He spent the first 35 years of his life studying, serving in the military, and teaching in various towns across Eastern Greece.

Epicurus eventually decided to open a school just outside of the Greek capital. He bought a home with a garden, where he and his pupils toiled, taught, and rested. Unusually for the time, he allowed women and slaves to partake in his school’s activities. He believed that everyone could benefit from practicing philosophy. The garden eventually became the defining symbol of Epicureanism, which prized simplicity, tranquility, and community above all else.

Ataraxia

Merriam-Webster defines an “epicure” as “one with sensitive and discriminating tastes especially in food or wine.” The assumption is that epicures relish the base, carnal pleasures found in food, drink, and sex. Is that what Epicurus preached?

Epicurus regarded “ataraxia” as the ultimate good. Ataraxia means “lack of disturbance.” To be content, we must be tranquil. Epicureans believed tranquility is happiness. But this tranquility had little to do with physical pleasures. In fact, Epicurus encouraged prudence in matters of the flesh: “It is not continuous drinkings and revellings, nor the satisfaction of lusts, nor the enjoyment of fish and other luxuries of the wealthy table, which produce a pleasant life.”

Prudence, he wrote, “is a more precious thing than philosophy”; it’s the spring of “all the other virtues.” If we asked Epicurus whether or not we should reject bodily pleasures completely, he would say no, for moderation guides us.

In his letter to Menoeceus, the philosopher defined tranquility as “freedom from pain in the body and from trouble in the mind.” To eliminate bodily pains, Epicurus thought people should focus only on necessary pleasures. Take food, for example. The letter explained that “plain savors” get rid of hunger just as effectively as a “luxurious diet,” which can actually cause greater discomfort by encouraging desires for more and better food.

"Banquet Still Life," 1644, by Adriaen van Utrecht. Oil on canvas; 72 4/5 inches by 95 2/5 inches. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. Public Domain

Epicurus believed that simple food gives pleasure because it satisfies hunger and ensures survival. Anything beyond this basic satisfaction is unnecessary. Realizing that we don’t need it was Epicurus’s first step to eliminate superfluous cravings that make our lives more complicated than happiness requires. The simpler, the better.

The Fear of Death

A troubled mind required a slightly different approach. Like most ancient philosophers, Epicurus believed that the mind could become tranquil by philosophizing. For him, him, philosophy was primarily a tool for understanding natural phenomena, from the generation of plants to the movement of stars. More generally, however, philosophy simply meant the careful exercise of reason in asking and answering life’s “big questions.”

Reason allows us to sift through incorrect opinions and base our choices on firmer ground, which is why Epicurus deemed it indispensable for living a good life. He thought that reason’s good effect was most evident in its remedy for what he considered the most universal fear: death. The fear of death, he explained to Menoeceus, was the biggest cause of anxiety. In his estimation, most people either “shun death as the greatest of evils” or “yearn for it as a respite from the evils in life.” However, he told his student that these attitudes were counterproductive.

In fretting about mortality, pain comes both with and after death. To remedy this anxiety, Epicurus opted for a radical alternative. As he wrote, we should “become accustomed to the belief that death is nothing to us. For all good and evil consist in sensation, but death is deprivation of sensation.” He equated death with the end of all sensation, which implies the end of all pain. Embracing this notion, he thought, makes “the mortality of life enjoyable, not because it adds to it an infinite span of time, but because it takes away the craving for immortality.”

Friendship

Menoeceus was a contemporary of Epicurus, but that’s all we know about him. He was likely younger than the philosopher and likely sought counsel from him on several occasions, as the letter’s friendly tone suggests. Indeed, their epistolary exchange reveals one of Epicurus’s tenets in action.

Although the letter doesn’t mention friendship directly, Epicurus’s other writings make it clear that he thought it necessary for happiness. One of his fragments reads “the noble man is chiefly concerned with wisdom and friendship; of these, the former is a mortal good, the latter an immortal one.” It’s unclear why he thought that friendship was an “immortal good,” but he certainly valued it as one of the most important things in life.

Putting his principles into practice, Epicurus wrote to Menoeceus to dispel his friend’s worries. He wanted to offer advice to a friend in need, because that’s what friends do. True friends remind us of our commitments to virtue, if we ever find ourselves in situations that threaten to jeopardize it.

Friends also help us practice reason. They offer us new perspectives. They challenge our opinions with honesty and respect so we may learn from them, and do the same in return. Epicurus’ school was founded for teachers to impart their wisdom, and for students to contemplate and potentially, through reason, point out errors in that way of thinking. We can imagine a boarding school, where teachers and students lived, learned, and labored in the spirit of friendship.

As one of Epicurus’s more poetic aphorisms put it, “Friendship dances around the world bidding us all to awaken to the recognition of happiness.” It’s that kind of special human bond that turns abstract notions into realities.

“The Friends of Ellen Key,” circa 1900–1907, by Hanna Hirsch-Pauli. Friendship has immense power to develop and improve the lives of the people involved. Public Domain

Does This Philosophy Satisfy?

Epicurus’s emphasis on moderate pleasure and the absence of pain seems incomplete. We want to avoid pain and find pleasure, but we also yearn for purpose and meaning, which often involves strife. Epicurus might have thought that commitment to friends and family takes care of that yearning, but his extant writings leave us wanting explanations. Are the absence of pain and the consistent application of philosophy really enough to live a good life?

They are part of it, but happiness seems to require more than comfort and simplicity. As psychoanalyst and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl told his friends in the concentration camp, “human life, under any circumstances, never ceases to have a meaning”; this “infinite meaning of life includes suffering and dying, privation and death.” Frankl’s situation was extreme. However, his perspective reminds us that a life with a purpose to sustain it, despite recurrent pain and hardships, might be better and more meaningful than the pain-free existence Epicurus strove to cultivate.

Whether or not he was right, Epicurus’s suggestions have provided solace for millions. ​In a friendless age of overconsumption and chronic anxiety, the gardening philosopher’s advice to find contentment in simplicity and genuine connections is a radical statement, but one worth considering in our pursuit of better, more peaceful lives.

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