Unlike the all-or-nothing race of a runner like Chrysippus trying not to shove his way to victory, Panaetius took the model of a different kind of athlete when reflecting on how best to fulfill our social duties. He thought the
As Aulus Gellius records:
Of an opinion of the philosopher Panaetius, which he expressed in his second book
It’s a metaphor of Panaetius’s creation that would appear, uncredited, in the works of Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus—two philosophers who battled their way through life. Unlike Antipater’s archer, who captured the reality of the many things out of our control as we seek to choose well among life’s challenges, or Aristo’s javelin thrower, Panaetius saw life as less theoretical and much more violent and forceful. It wasn’t just a contest with oneself, but actual combat—with opponents and fate. He believed we need to be prepared for the blows that will inevitably fall upon us.
Ultimately, Panaetius would not finish the book, for reasons unknown. But what he had captured in writing was an incredible achievement and was recognized as such in his own time. One of his most politically active students, Publius Rutilius Rufus, who also served Scipio in the Numantine War in 134 BC and was involved in reforms of military training, taxation, and bankruptcy, explained that even this partial work towered over the philosophical and political world: “As no painter had been found to complete that part of the Venus of Cos which Apelles had left unfinished (for the beauty of her face made hopeless any attempt adequately to represent the rest of the figure),” he said, “so no one, because of the surpassing excellence of what Panaetius did complete, would venture to supply what he had left undone.”
For all that he left unsaid, so much was said and established that allowed Stoicism to thrive in Roman political life for the next three hundred years. Cicero claimed, for instance, that Panaetius argued it was possible for a good lawyer to defend a guilty client—provided they were not egregiously depraved or wicked. Not only is it a position that makes sense given Panaetius’s deep belief in each individual’s duty and role in life, but it is also a practical innovation that has been a pillar of the legal system over the last two thousand years: If no one steps up to defend undesirable clients, how can we be sure that justice is being done?
Panaetius was a simple and direct writer as well as speaker who helped rid the philosophy of arcane terminology and its unappealing style—undoubtedly the result of his Stoic teachers’ early influence. More importantly, he made the philosophy itself more practical and accessible for people. As Cicero explained, “Panaetius strove to avoid [the] uncouth and repellant development of Stoicism, censuring alike the harshness of its doctrines and the crabbedness of its logic. In doctrine he was mellower, and in style more lucid.”
He was one of the first Stoics who seems to be less a