It's a curious aspect of human nature, isn't it? We often profess to value ourselves above all others, yet we grant such power to their thoughts about us. So much of our precious energy is consumed by wondering, "What will they think?" In an era that champions individuality, this preoccupation seems particularly counterproductive. The ancient Stoics, well ahead of their time, understood the art of liberating oneself from this very concern. Let's delve into their wisdom to help loosen the grip of others' judgments.

The Paradox of Seeking Approval

It's surprisingly easy to get ensnared in a collective unease about the perceptions and words of others, even those we don't personally know. As the philosopher-emperor Marcus Aurelius keenly observed, we often elevate their opinions above our own. But what fuels this tendency? At its heart, the intense desire to be liked often springs from a deep-seated fear of rejection.

Think back to our ancestral past. In tribal settings, being cast out could be a death sentence; belonging was crucial for survival. We see echoes of this in the animal kingdom. Consider dogs, inherently pack animals; when left alone, their whines and howls speak of a profound loneliness, a primal response to separation.

However, when viewed through a lens of logic, the fear of rejection in most modern contexts loses its immediate threat. Rarely does our physical survival hinge on whether someone approves of us. While it's certainly more pleasant to be liked, it's not a prerequisite for a fulfilling life, nor for genuine happiness. The Stoics would classify a good reputation as a "preferred indifferent"—agreeable to have, but entirely possible to live a virtuous life without. Simply put, if our actions align with our conscience, why should the opinions of others cause us undue distress? Our own knowledge of doing what is right should be our primary guide.

The Fleeting Nature of External Validation

Marcus Aurelius voiced his own skepticism regarding the pursuit of others' approval. He famously questioned its inherent worth: "What is there to value? The applause of the crowd. No, no more than the clicking of their tongues. After all, all this public praise is just the clicking of tongues."

If we examine the essence of approval, from the roar of a live audience to the digital affirmation of a "like," what do we find? These are often fleeting gestures, mere physical movements or pixels on a display, offering a brief spark of pleasure. Yet, such approval seldom delivers lasting satisfaction; instead, it tends to fuel a continuous craving for more. To spend a lifetime chasing this ephemeral reward is, by most measures, a futile endeavor.

Despite this, we frequently witness individuals becoming distraught when they don't receive the anticipated recognition, or when they discover someone harbors dislike or even animosity towards them. At times, a minor, insignificant insult can escalate to disproportionate reactions.

Embracing What We Cannot Control

The Stoics astutely noted long ago that we lack dominion over the opinions of others. And that which we do not control is, by its nature, unreliable. The more significance we attach to things beyond our direct influence, the less actual control we retain over our own state of being.

Let's be candid: regardless of our efforts, there will invariably be individuals who do not like us. There will always be those who are unappreciative, antagonistic, resentful, or judgmental. It's a common human response to become angered by such people, sometimes ruminating for years over harsh words spoken.

The Stoic philosopher Epictetus offered this counsel: "When someone blames you or hates you or says something hurtful about you, get close to their poor souls, look inside and see what they are like, you will understand that there is no reason to worry about what these people think about you."

Holding onto anger is akin to consuming poison and expecting another to perish—an utter waste of our vital energy. With a measure of compassion, we might recognize that those who cause us pain are also navigating their own complexities. Their words and thoughts might stem from various sources: perhaps ignorance, ingrained prejudice, or simple irritation. Alternatively, their criticism might even highlight an area where we genuinely have room for improvement. If that's the situation, we are faced with a choice: address the imperfection or accept it. In either scenario, endlessly mulling over another's dislike for us is unproductive.

We may not govern what others think, but we absolutely can decide how we react to it. Our capacity to choose our internal response to the external world is a key determinant of our happiness. The distress derived from others' opinions is not inflicted by them directly, but rather by our own minds, which become agitated by fixating on matters outside our control and irrelevant to our inner peace.

Ultimately, what others think of us is, quite simply, their business, not ours.

References:

• Aurelius, Marcus. Meditations.

  This personal philosophical journal of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius is a cornerstone of Stoic thought. Throughout the work, but with particular relevance to the article's themes of disregarding fickle public opinion and focusing on one's own virtuous actions, see Book VI, especially section 16 (translations and section numbering can vary, but this is a common reference for the "clicking of tongues" sentiment regarding applause). He consistently emphasizes internal validation over external praise.

• Epictetus. Enchiridion.

  The Enchiridion is a concise guide to Stoic ethics, compiled by Arrian from the teachings of Epictetus. Section 42 (in many translations) directly addresses how to react to others' negative judgments, advising an understanding of the critic's own state rather than personal distress, which supports the article's point about looking into "their poor souls." The overall work focuses on distinguishing between what is in our control and what is not, a central theme of the article.