We Cannot Be Servants To Our Stuff

There is a story about King Philip, the father of Alexander the Great. He was leading a massive army campaign, and had picked an ideal spot to stop to break camp. As he began to give out orders, an aide rushed up to inform him that the location lacked enough pasture for the army’s pack animals and that they would have to move. “O Hercules,” Philip cursed in frustration, “what a life I lead if I am obliged to live for the benefit of my asses!” 

Philip may have been powerful, but not more powerful than the reality of logistics. His unstoppable, all-powerful army was—for all its victories—at the mercy of its weakest link. It has always been and always will be thus. As Marcus Aurelius would write in Meditations about Philip’s son, Alexander—for all his victories too—was buried in the same ground as his mule driver.  Reality has a way of cutting us down to size like that. 

But the real message of that story is how easily even the most powerful people can become a slave to their stuff. Every soldier Philip pressed into service meant more supplies, which meant more pack animals to carry them, which required larger and larger amounts of fodder. Every ounce of treasure that Philip acquired in victory meant the same. Everything he accomplished or did was actually slowing—weighing—him down.

And so it goes for us. Which is why we should remember Seneca’s advice today: “Get used to dining out without the crowds, to being a slave to fewer slaves, to getting clothes only for their real purpose, and to living in more modest quarters.”

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