This is the second part of an exploration of the Stoic philosopher Seneca’s insights on anger.
Part 1 considered Seneca’s taxonomy of our misconceptions about anger. For some, anger offers an illusion of strength, but for Seneca, anger makes us “unsuited” for effective action—like a “collapsing building that’s reduced to rubble even as it crushes what it falls upon.”
In part 2, Seneca offers practical remedies for recovering from anger’s madness and regaining the power of our decision-making mind. To be effective advocates for liberty and self-government, we must first learn to govern the noisy ego narrative that often hijacks our minds.
Before diving into the remedies, let’s consider the scale of the anger issue. According to Gallup’s “Tracking the World’s Emotional Health” report, in 2024, 22 percent of adults worldwide reported experiencing significant anger the previous day. Angry people have trouble cooperating with others, and anger can be seen as a leading indicator of societal fragility.
In “On Anger,” Seneca argued that to be angry is not in accord with human nature. He explained, “Human life is constituted by the harmonious exchange of benefits, and is held fast in a pact of mutual assistance not by fear but by mutual affection.”
The experience of anger is an “aroused assault” on one’s mind; in anger, we are “hungry for payback” and have forgotten our mutual interdependence with others.
Seneca reached across time when he exposed today’s popular “I’m just being honest” excuse for anger: “Some people think that an inclination to anger is a sign of honesty and that all who are most subject to it are commonly believed to be most free and easy.” Anger is not honest. Anger, Seneca explained, “betrays human nature, which urges us toward love and bids us to benefit others: anger urges us toward hate and bids us to do harm.” In anger, we harm ourselves and others.
Correcting another common misconception, Seneca wrote, “The person who is the captive of his own anger is not powerful, or rather, cannot even be called free.”
In these observations, we find the first step out of anger: A sincere regret for our anger and a desire to reform, not only for our own sake but for our loved ones, colleagues, and larger society.
Next, we must become students of our own anger. We observe and learn from our reactions. Seneca advised: “It’s easy to diagnose one’s passions as they first arise: symptoms precede the disease. Just as signs of a rainstorm arrive before the storm itself, so there are certain signs that announce the coming of anger, love, and all those storm gusts that vex our minds.”
Awareness—becoming more alert to existing thought patterns—helps us practice what Seneca advised:
We should consider what especially riles us. Insulting speech moves one person, insulting actions another. This one is sensitive about his notable status; that one, about his good looks. One person wants to be thought exceptionally refined; another, exceptionally learned. This person can’t stand arrogance; that one, defiance.
In short, “Not all people feel the blow in the same part of themselves, so it’s proper to know your own weak spot, in order to give it special protection.”
Understand Projection
In On Anger, Seneca wrote, “Many people manufacture their own causes for complaint through false suspicion and by exaggerating things that are trivial.” When angry, the one thing we are sure of is that we see things objectively and our anger is justified.
In this state, we don’t understand that much of the anger we experience stems from our unwillingness to see our own character flaws.
Wisely, Seneca noted that people tend to overlook their own faults while fixating on the shortcomings of others: “We see others’ vices right before us, but we carry our own on our backs.”
We find this theme again in Seneca’s “On the Happy Life.” Pointedly, he asked, “Do you really have the time to scrutinize the bad qualities of others and to pass judgments about anyone?” And then he delivered this zinger: “You inspect other people’s pimples, when you are covered with so many sores?”
An unwillingness to see our own, often hidden, character flaws, and yet see them in others, leads to the psychological mechanism of projection. Projection is a way our mind avoids facing our inner discomforts. We are disgusted by those who dispose of their physical trash by throwing it on the side of the road, yet we think we can get rid of our psychological trash by trying to pin it on others.
Observing angry people, Seneca noted, “No one says to himself, ‘This thing that’s making me angry—either I’ve done it myself, or I could have.’” Herein is a practice to remedy projection and regain the power of our decision-making mind: we willingly look at our own character flaws. We can follow the instructions that Marcus Aurelius had for himself: “Whenever you are about to find fault with someone, ask yourself the following question: What fault of mine most nearly resembles the one I am about to criticize?” (Meditations, 10.30)
So strong is this need to project that you may have noticed a tendency for anger to bubble up as you think about situations yet to unfold. The ASG’s Christopher Cook, noticing this same theater in his mind, noted to me that, “Getting angry over a hypothetical is next-level stupid!”
For myself, I have noticed this “next-level stupid” even in dreams where I get angry over a scenario twice removed from reality.
Seneca observed, “Anger often comes to us, but we more often go to it.”
Are You Ready to Reform?
In his Moral Letter #53, Seneca asked, “Why do people not admit their faults?” He answered, “Because they are still in the midst of them. Dreams are told by those who are awake; admitting to one’s faults is a sign of health.” Are we willing to wake up from our dream that anger benefits us?
In his Moral Letter #28, Seneca provides stunningly practical advice: “Before you can reform yourself, you must realize your error. … Do you suppose they have any thought for the remedy? Surely not, since they count their bad habits as virtues!” They are unwilling to acknowledge that they find “glory in [their faults].”
When you are at least willing to consider that your habitual anger is doing you no good, then you are ready to practice Seneca’s remedy: “Bring an accusation against yourself, as stringently as you can. Then conduct the investigation. Take the role of the accuser first, then the judge, and let that of the advocate come last.”
Look at yourself as you embrace your endless thoughts about who or what is to blame for your anger. Instead of mentally attacking others, Seneca challenges us to “Offend yourself sometimes!”
Learning to control these passions is a crucial step in learning to respect others.
The Nightly Interrogation
Nightly, Seneca asked himself specific questions to hold his conduct accountable:
“Which of your ills did you heal today?”
“Which vice did you resist?”
The benefit is that “Your anger will cease and become more controllable if it knows that every day it must come before a judge.”
Seneca asked, “What sort of sleep follows this self-examination…when the sentinel and secret censor of the self has conducted its inquiry into one’s character!” Adam Smith was well-versed in Stoicism, and we can wonder whether he borrowed from Seneca the concept of the “impartial spectator.”
Seneca observed his sleep was serene: “For why should I fear any consequence from my mistakes, when I’m able to say, ‘See that you don’t do it again, but now I forgive you.’”
Is that not what we are seeking: forgiveness for our mistakes and a pathway to do better? Seneca shows the way.