I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at https://practicingstoicism.com/pledge.

In this episode, I address a subject many people struggle with deeply: the death of animal companions. I explain why I prefer that term over “pets,” and why I felt compelled to speak about this topic at all, despite rarely discussing my own past relationships or personal losses.

I share the context of leaving a long-term relationship and the difficult Stoic choices that followed, including continuing to help care for my dog, Jupiter, after I left. I do this to make one thing clear from the outset: this episode is not an exercise in emotional detachment. I care deeply about animal companions, and I understand the strength of the bonds we form with them.

From there, I describe what makes their loss so painful. Animal companions are a constant presence in our daily lives. When they are gone, future moments feel diminished in a way that is both sudden and enduring. I argue that to deny this sadness, or to suggest that grief itself is inappropriate, would be unjust. Stoic sages may not grieve, but there are no sages. We are imperfect human beings, and grief is a natural response to loss.

I then outline how Stoicism helps us deal with grief without letting it ruin our character. First, we must understand what death truly is: a natural return of energy to the Cosmos. Death itself is never unjust, even though injustice can sometimes lead to it. Accepting this reality is difficult, especially in the midst of mourning, but it is necessary.

Next, I explain why grief is dangerous if left unchecked. Grief can turn into anger or despair, both of which place us at risk of unjust choices—toward others or toward ourselves. Stoic practice demands that we remain vigilant over our rational faculty, especially when we are emotionally vulnerable.

Finally, I argue that moving on is not a betrayal of love. After an appropriate period of mourning, continuing to live well, happily, and attentively is not unjust. Our animal companions are gone, and there is no further care we can provide them. To remain trapped in grief is to elevate mourning above the pursuit of moral excellence, which is the only true good.

To grieve, to remember fondly, and then to return our attention to the duties of the present is the Stoic path. Love your companion, mourn their absence, guard your character, and when the time comes, move forward with gratitude for what was and responsibility for what remains.

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I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at https://practicingstoicism.com/pledge.

This episode is prompted by a thoughtful listener question: if we judge a political leader to be unjust, would it be unjust to distance ourselves from that leader’s supporters—especially when those supporters are family? For example, would it be just to skip a wedding because a family member supports a political figure we find morally repugnant?

I use my own relationship with my father to explore this question through the Stoic framework of role ethics. As Stoics, we occupy many roles—son or daughter, parent, citizen—and each role carries duties that must be reasoned through rather than emotionally rejected. Disagreeing with a parent’s political views does not erase the duties that come with being their child.

I explain why Stoicism does not judge people by outcomes or affiliations, but by the reasoning behind their choices. From a Stoic perspective, all unjust actions stem from the same root cause: moral ignorance. There are no degrees of vice at the level of judgment—only differences in consequences. This means that condemning others as uniquely evil while excusing our own lapses misunderstands how Stoic ethics works.

Applying this to family relationships, I argue that it is unjust to hold loved ones morally responsible for the actions of political leaders they support, since they do not control those actions. Boycotting a family event as an expression of anger or protest is not a Stoic act unless it can be justified as genuinely just, rather than emotionally satisfying.

I also clarify that this does not mean we must tolerate abuse or injustice directed at us personally. Distance can be justified when it prevents harm. But distancing ourselves simply to punish, signal virtue, or indulge resentment is a failure of our rational faculty, not an exercise of it.

The Stoic task, difficult as it is, is to argue, to remain engaged, and to resist the temptation to reduce others to their worst judgments. Writing people off may feel righteous, but it fractures our shared world and leads to further injustice. Justice, for the Stoic, requires patience, restraint, and a continued commitment to trying.

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Stick around after the closing music for some extra thoughts on this topic.

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I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at https://practicingstoicism.com/pledge.

In this episode, I explain why Stoicism does not judge people as just or unjust based on whether they hold a pro-life or pro-choice position. What matters, from a Stoic perspective, is not the conclusion someone reaches, but the quality of the reasoning that leads them there, and whether that reasoning accords with Stoic ethical theory.

I use abortion specifically because it is a subject most of us struggle to hold open space around. It is emotionally charged, morally serious, and deeply tied to how we think about Nature, life, and human responsibility. For Stoics, this makes it a fitting case study for understanding how justice, reason, and virtue actually function in practice.

I lay out the core Stoic framework first: reason is what carries moral weight. The pregnant person possesses reason; the fetus does not yet. Because of this, Stoicism does not frame abortion in terms of rights or politics, but as a question of how a rational agent uses reason to act in accordance with virtue.

From there, I present two internally coherent Stoic arguments. The Stoic pro-life argument emphasizes following Nature, duties toward future rational beings, and justice as fidelity to natural purpose. The Stoic pro-choice argument emphasizes present rational agency, virtue as the only true good, and the idea that living in accordance with Nature means using reason, not blindly following biological processes.

I then argue that politicising abortion is itself unjust from a Stoic point of view. Turning a deeply personal moral deliberation into a struggle for power strips the rational agent of their proper role and violates the Stoic demand to respect what lies within another person’s control.

Finally, I draw practical conclusions for practicing Stoics. If faced with this decision yourself, you are responsible for reasoning carefully and virtuously. If others face it, justice requires humility, restraint, and respect for their rational faculty, even when you disagree. Stoicism asks us to focus on our own judgments, not to govern the moral agency of others.

Looking for a Stoic habit tracker? I've created a free one. You can find it at https://stoictracker.com.

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I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at https://practicingstoicism.com/pledge.

Over the years, many parents have asked me how to teach Stoicism to their children. My answer, when the child is young, is always the same: don’t. Not yet.

In this episode, I explain why I believe children should first be allowed to fully develop their rational faculty before being introduced to philosophies or religions of any kind, including Stoicism. I use religion as a parallel case to show how faith only counts as faith when it is chosen freely, not inherited through early conditioning. When beliefs are introduced too early, before a child is capable of genuine evaluation, what looks like belief is often just unexamined imitation.

I argue that this concern applies just as much to philosophy as it does to religion. The ancient Stoics themselves understood that the rational faculty matures over time, and they generally held that serious philosophical instruction was appropriate closer to adolescence, not early childhood. Before that point, children are highly malleable and prone to accepting authority rather than questioning it.

That does not mean children should be raised without guidance. I discuss how I approach parenting by focusing on the what of behavior rather than the deep metaphysical why. Concepts like kindness, cooperation, respect, and shared responsibility can be explained in simple, non-partisan terms that match a child’s developmental stage, without smuggling in complex worldviews they are not yet equipped to assess.

Ultimately, I argue that our responsibility as parents is not to replicate ourselves in our children, nor to secure their allegiance to our preferred philosophy, but to help them become healthy, capable, contributing members of a shared world. If we do that well, whatever philosophy or religion they eventually adopt will be something they choose for themselves—and that choice will actually mean something.

Looking for a Stoic habit tracker? I've created a free one. You can find it at https://stoictracker.com.

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I am a public philosopher, it is my only job. I am enabled to do this job, in large part, thanks to support from my listeners and readers. You can support my work, keep it independent and online, at https://practicingstoicism.com/pledge.

Last week, Renee Nicole Good was shot and killed by an ICE officer in Minneapolis. She was 37 years old, a mother, a poet, and she was not the target of ICE’s operations. She was present as an observer, protesting their activities. Whether she was documented or undocumented is irrelevant. What matters is that she posed no meaningful threat and was treated unjustly.

In this episode, I walk through what is visible in the video footage, what the officer reasonably could and could not have believed, and why the use of lethal force was unjustified. Renee attempted to leave the scene. Her vehicle moved forward slowly, on a slippery surface, and briefly came close to an officer who stepped out of the way unharmed. Despite this, a firearm had already been drawn and trained on her before she attempted to drive away, and she was shot and killed.

I argue that this reflects a broader moral failure: the treatment of bystanders, protestors, and non-suspects as if they are legitimate targets of violence. From a Stoic perspective, justice is not about legality or enforcement policy. It is about giving people what they are owed. Renee was owed restraint, evaluation, and basic human regard. She received none of these.

I then broaden the discussion to immigration enforcement more generally, questioning why people whose only “crime” is improper migratory status are treated with cruelty rather than offered a path to legal recognition. Punishment should be proportional to wrongdoing, and not all violations warrant punishment at all.

Finally, I apply Stoic justice to the officer himself. Regardless of orders or institutional culture, he is a moral agent. An unjust killing demands accountability. At a minimum, this requires permanent removal from any role involving coercive power and proportionate legal punishment. Anything less treats Renee’s life as expendable.

From a Stoic point of view, this was an injustice of the highest order. There is no moral ambiguity here. Justice failed, and justice now demands a response equal to the harm done.

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In this episode of Practicing Stoicism, I use the news that 2025 was the UK’s hottest year on record as a practical case study for Stoic ethics.

I am not interested here in debating climate science, percentages, or blame. Instead, I focus on a Stoic question that is both simpler and more demanding: given what we know, what is the just thing for us to choose?

I examine common Stoic misunderstandings around responsibility, especially the modern tendency to treat Hierocles’ Circles of Concern as an “order of operations” that excuses indifference to distant problems. I explain why this interpretation is wrong, how the Stoic concept of oikeiōsis actually works, and why moral concern naturally expands outward from the self to family, community, and ultimately the world we depend on.

I also introduce a different way of visualising Stoic concern, drawing on work I’ve done with Kai Whiting in What Is Stoicism? A Brief and Accessible Overview, to show why care for the environment is not abstract, optional, or politically motivated, but ethically grounded.

The Stoic does not act because action guarantees outcomes. We act because choosing well is our responsibility. In this episode, I argue that reducing our contribution to environmental harm is a matter of justice, not control, and not ideology.

I close with a practical challenge: not to save the world, but to identify one small, concrete way you can choose more justly—and to reflect on that choice honestly.

As always, the goal is not perfection. It is progress.