throughout the book risks unintentionally implying to its readers that ἰδιώτης is being used in a particular text when it is not. The use of the English word “layperson,” however, permits us to discuss individuals who are inexperienced in the technical understanding of philosophy and to highlight the wording in the primary texts without the abovementioned misunderstanding arising.
NOTES
1. Long (2002, 11).
2. Diss. I.26.11-12. On Epictetus’ reflections on the imperial court, see the valuable study by Miller (2002).
3. Diss. I.9.29. Epictetus’ lameness, alluded to at Diss. I.17.20 has been interpreted by some, including Origen, Cels. 7.53, 7.54, as being the result of physical harm that was inflicted upon him by Ephaproditus. For a fuller discussion on this story, see Long (2004, 10).
4. Diss. I.9.29. Hollowchak (2008), and the sources that are assembled in Inwood and Gerson (2008).
5. Diss. III.23.29.
6. Diss. III.1.12; 7.1.
7. Historia Augusta, Hadrian, 16.
8. For an extended discussion on Arrian’s records of Epictetus’ teachings, see Long (2002, 39–43). The Discourses though, as Cooper (2007, 10–11) importantly notes, do not record “the formal course of instruction in Epictetus’ school. [Rather] they were, with only a few exceptions, ancillary and informal admonishments or protreptics, or bits of practical advice, addressed to his pupils and delivered, it would seem, in the afternoons or evenings, after the main work of the day was already completed. . . . it appears, the main part of the curriculum consisted in the systematic reading out loud of classic ‘old’ Stoic texts . . . together with Epictetus’ oral commentary and interpretation of them—Diss. II.14.1, 21.10, III.21.6-7, 23.10-11 at 16.” See also Mason (2007a, 2).
9. On the likely purpose and provenance of the Enchiridion, see Long (2002, 260), and the important recent study by Boter (2017).
10. For example, see his reference to Epictetus at Med. 1.7.
11. See Ahlholm (2017, 60–63).
12. Contra Cels. 6.2.
13. See MacMillan (1979), and on the reception of Epictetus see Long (2002, 259–274).
14. Hock (1992).
15. Boter (2010, 330–331).
16. Regarding the nonspecific meaning of ἰδιώτης, consider also the remarks at Galen at In Hipp. Nat. Hom comment 3.1. For a useful overview of the definition that ἰδιώτης has within various contexts, the discussion in Pitts (2016, 62–64) is of use.
17. The English word “layperson” largely seems to derive its definition from the Latin idiotes, which means (Stock 1983, 28, 29): “someone who was ignorant of a science, a doctrine, or an area of study, and as a corollary one unperfected in a practical discipline.”
Establishing a Philosophical Identity in Antiquity
Although as a formal subject of study philosophy had existed for at least some 600 to 700 years,1 during the time of the late Roman Republic and Roman Empire philosophy was enjoying one of its, if not the, most notable periods of its influence.2 The concerns and idioms that marked its discourse now found themselves regularly punctuating the conversations of educated/cultured society;3 mosaics, statues, and coins were eagerly commissioned to celebrate its most famous members; the lecture rooms of its exponents were toured as a matter of routine by the children of the elite; and philosophers were enthusiastically inducted into the client bases of well-connected and aspiringly erudite patrons.4 Moreover, the increasing provision of resources such as epitomes, gnomologies, doxographies, and public lectures/readings were enabling many of philosophy’s ideas to reach people who would, from either a lack of resources or resolve, have otherwise remained ignorant of them.5
This influence and diffusion of philosophy in antiquity, as well as the decentralization of the schools as institutions after the rise of Rome,6 meant that establishing who was, and who was not, a philosopher was perhaps not as easy a distinction to make as it might at first be imagined.7 Indeed, from the middle of the first century BCE, people apparently felt increasingly able to assert that they were affiliated with one of philosophy’s schools, even if they had never been formally instructed in its tenets, or had ever explored its cache of texts.8 It should be highlighted that the difficulty in classifying an ancient person as a philosopher is not just felt by modern interpreters looking back with hindsight. Numerous classical authors comment, or allude, to the fact that with little formalized means of identifying a philosopher, discerning a genuine philosopher from an inadequate or even fraudulent claimant of the title can be problematic.9 Dio Chrysostom (ca. 40–115 CE), for instance, remarks: “However, it is possible there is nothing to prevent one’s claiming to be a philosopher and at the same time playing the impostor and deceiving himself and everyone else,” τὸ δέ γε φῆσαι φιλοσοφεῖν καὶ ἀλαζονεύεσθαι καὶ αὑτὸν ἐξαπατῆσαι καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους οὐδὲν ἴσως κωλύει, and elsewhere he reveals that, in his estimation, most people could be deceived by the mere pretense of philosophical acumen.10 A similar frustration is shared by Apuleius (ca. 124–170 CE), who at one point declares that he wishes a proclamation (edictum) could be issued so that people might easily recognize an authentic philosopher, and penalties enacted to dissuade the inappropriate donning of the philosopher’s mantle11—an innovation that Epictetus also intimates he would like to see.12
A further ambiguity, as Harry Hine has highlighted,13 is that even figures such as Cicero and Seneca, who are highly regarded expositors of ancient philosophy and whose writings we depend upon to help us better map the contours of ancient philosophical thought, appear to have declined to use the title philosopher (philosophus) to describe themselves. With regards to Cicero, Hine notes that on several occasions the implications of his remarks are that he believes he can claim the identity of being a philosopher, but that he consistently refrains from doing so.14 In particular, Hine points out at Tusc. 2.1, Cicero opines that individuals who are engaged in the search for wisdom can be called philosophi, which implies broadening philosophical identity beyond people who have formal institutional ties with a school, or a professional responsibility to instruct others in philosophical tenets. Such a definition of a philosopher would also, quite naturally, include Cicero within its purview, but again is an implication that Hine notes Cicero leaves for his readers to draw.15 In addition, it can be noted that at De Off. 1.2, a text which Hine does not cite, where Cicero draws a direct equivalence between his philosophical efforts and those of Peripatetic writers, he again deftly avoids using the epithet philosophus to describe himself. Similarly with regards to Seneca, Hine highlights that he never applies the title philosophus to describe himself within his large body of writing—although it might be highlighted that he does freely describe himself as having a philosophical affiliation to Stoicism.16
Cicero’s and Seneca’s hesitancy to use the title philosophus to describe themselves, but to evidently believe and present themselves as being engaged in philosophizing is explained by Hine as being due to the particular socioeconomic background that these men had in common. In his study, Hine argues that for high-ranking Roman individuals the title (although not the identity) of philosopher would connote an image of a lower-class,
