Rediscovering Diogenes: A Revolutionary Thinker for a Modern World

In Diogenes: The Rebellious Life and Revolutionary Philosophy of the Original Cynic, Inger Kuin, an associate professor of classics general faculty with UVA’s College and Graduate School of Arts & Sciences, offers a vivid and compelling portrait of the ancient Greek philosopher whose life and ideas have long fascinated readers. Moving beyond the figure that some know as an eccentric who lived in a clay pot and mocked social norms, Kuin reconstructs Diogenes’ story through painstaking research that highlights his radical vision of simplicity, autonomy and moral integrity and his philosophy rooted in lived experience.

Published this fall, Kuin’s book introduces readers to a Diogenes who is not just a historical oddity but a thinker whose ideas are deeply relevant for citizens of the twenty-first century. By illuminating his fearless critique of power, his early opposition to slavery and his influence on later philosophical traditions, the work showcases Diogenes as a thinker whose challenges to convention resonate with contemporary debates about authenticity and freedom. Praised as “a rich, engaging portrait of intellectual fearlessness” by Pulitzer Prize–winning author Stacy Schiff, the book invites readers to reconsider the life and legacy of a philosopher who asked bold questions about the lives we think we live.

From Diogenes: The Rebellious Life and Revolutionary Philosophy of the Original Cynic

Diogenes once found a pastry among his olives, and threw it away while mumbling an appropriate quote from a tragedy by the fifth-century BCE playwright Euripides: “Stranger, be gone from the king’s path!” The pastry is a luxury item entirely out of place among the modest olives, and unsuited to Diogenes as a “king” of austerity. But on a different occasion, when someone asked him whether wise men eat pastries, he said that they eat all sorts of sweets, just like other people. About wine, Diogenes said that he liked best the ones he did not have to pay for. When someone criticized him for drinking at a tavern, his witty answer was that he also went to the barbershop to get his hair cut. In other words, drinking is simply what you do when you are at a bar. These exchanges show that Diogenes was not trying to avoid all sensory pleasures, unlike people committed to religious asceticism. Should we just chalk up his varying choices and behaviors to inconsistency or hypocrisy on his part and consider Diogenes a failed, part-time ascetic? Although initially it seems reasonable enough to draw such a conclusion, doing so would be to miss the point of the nuanced understanding Diogenes had both of his body and of his mental well-being.

A far greater threat than pleasure, Diogenes said, is desire (epithymia): it is the constant and often fruitless pursuit of pleasure that ruins people, because it makes them unfree. To avoid falling victim to this dynamic, people must, through exercise, habituate their bodies to scarcity and discomfort. Diogenes rolled his body in hot sand and hugged snowy statues to prepare himself for extreme heat and cold. But he did not make a habit of exposing himself to extreme circumstances, since for him bodily suffering was a means to an end, not a way of life in itself. For the same reason, we must teach ourselves to be satisfied with lentils and olives, even as there is also nothing wrong with accepting wine or pastries from time to time, as long as we do not get used to fancier fare or, worse, become dependent on it. We must keep ourselves safe from desiring pleasure, but not from pleasure as such.

Diogenes also said that nothing in life turns out well without “training” (askesis). From this Greek word the modern term “asceticism” is derived, but the two are not completely identical. His askesis is mostly like exercise, a preparation of body and mind for all circumstances. With this, he believed, we can conquer everything. Without it we accomplish nothing. Living a life of happiness is possible for those who, instead of choosing useless suffering, choose things that are in accordance with nature. Diogenes explains that people are unhappy because they make the wrong choices out of thoughtlessness. Nature has made a relatively easy existence available to them, but they hide this from themselves by “desiring honey cakes, perfume, and the like.” In contrast, ignoring pleasure, once you have practiced doing so, “brings more pleasure than pleasure itself.” This puzzling, seemingly circular reasoning is, in fact, a powerful redefinition of what pleasure is. When we only consider the bodily aspect in thinking about pleasure, we overlook the fact that many things that are typically seen as sources of pleasure (like honey cakes and perfume) require money and effort, contribute to worry and stress, and, ultimately, leave people in an unpleasant state of dependence. Diogenes added a psychological element to what constitutes pleasure: people who accustom themselves to being satisfied with water and olives can take good care of themselves relatively stress-free under all kinds of circumstances. Such freedom is more pleasurable than the smell of perfume or the taste of honey cake.

Living well, for Diogenes, is something we do with our bodies and our mind. Nature has given us bodies that are wonderfully strong if we train them through suffering. With trained bodies we can withstand most anything and live well on minimal resources, enjoying simple foods, the warmth of the sun, and other “safe” (that is, easily sustainable) pleasures. Such an existence is preferable by far to a life of luxury, because that life burdens our mind with constant desire for pleasure and constant worry about how to keep up such a high standard of living. And, most importantly, a life of luxury does not prepare us for adverse circumstances. A change of fortune will easily ruin the untrained, but not those trained through askesis.