The gadflAI Podcast

Disrupting Anxiety with Hellenistic Philosophy

(>'.')>

Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.

0:00 | 50:46

Episode 14 brings philosophy out of the classroom and into the turbulence of everyday life. Drawing on the ideas of Epicurus, Diogenes of Sinope, Zeno of Citium, and Pyrrho of Elis, the episode explores Hellenistic philosophy not as abstract theory, but as a practical art of living, designed to cultivate tranquility in times of social upheaval and uncertainty.

Against contemporary narratives that frame anxiety primarily as a problem of smartphones and social media, the episode examines the deeper structures of modern distress: hyper-consumerism, status competition, political instability, burnout culture, and the erosion of meaningful communal life. Rather than treating technology as the sole cause of anxiety, the discussion argues that screens often function as symptoms, refuges within a society already marked by alienation and emotional fragmentation.

Through the lenses of Cynicism, Skepticism, Stoicism, and Epicureanism, the episode investigates how ancient philosophical practices can serve as forms of psychological and ethical resistance in the algorithmic age. In doing so, the episode presents Hellenistic philosophy as a continuation of the gadfly tradition: a refusal of institutional comfort and a demand that wisdom fundamentally transform how one lives.

Sources:

  • Adamson, Peter. Philosophy in the Hellenistic and Roman worlds. Vol. 1. Oxford University Press (UK), 2015.
  • Diogenes Laërtius. Lives of the Eminent Philosophers. Translated by R. D. Hicks, Harvard UP, 1925.
  • Durkheim, Émile. Suicide: A Study in Sociology. Translated by John A. Spaulding and George Simpson, Free Press, 1951.
  • Epicurus. “Letter to Menoeceus.” The Epicurus Reader: Selected Writings and Testimonia, translated by Brad Inwood and L. P. Gerson, Hackett Publishing, 1994, pp. 28–40.
  • Haidt, Jonathan. The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness. Penguin Press, 2024.
  •  Haidt, Jonathan. The Coddling of the American Mind: How Good Intentions and Bad Ideas Are Setting Up a Generation for Failure. Co-authored by Greg Lukianoff, Penguin Press, 2018.
  • Hadot, Pierre. Philosophy as a Way of Life. Edited by Arnold I. Davidson, translated by Michael Chase, Blackwell, 1995.
  • Nussbaum, Martha C. The Therapy of Desire: Theory and Practice in Hellenistic Ethics. Princeton UP, 1994.
  • Odgers, Candice L. "The great rewiring: is social media really behind an epidemic of teenage mental illness." Nature 628.8006 (2024): 29-30.
  • Pyrrho of Elis. Fragments and testimonia in The Skeptic Way: Sextus Empiricus’s Outlines of Pyrrhonism. Translated by Benson Mates, Oxford UP, 1996.
  • Van Baar, Jeroen. "Why academics are annoyed with Jonathan Haidt, again." 3 Quarks Daily, 8 July 2024.
  • Zeno of Citium. Fragments and testimonia in The Stoics Reader: Selected Writings and Testimonia. Edited by Brad Inwood and L. P. Gerson, Hackett Publishing, 2008. 

Episode Credits

  • Producer and Editor: Dr. Christopher C. Kirby
  • This work is made possible by the Jeffers W. Chertok Memorial Endowment at Eastern Washington University.

**The views expressed in this program are not necessarily those of Eastern Washington University

 

SPEAKER_03

Welcome back to the Gadfly Podcast, where we drag philosophy out of the archives and into the chaos of daily life. I'm Aaron Cornellison, your human Gadfly, and today we're starting with a claim that should make you a little uncomfortable. What if the alleged modern epidemic of anxiety in young adults is being mischaracterized or misdiagnosed? Because right now, the dominant story looks simple, clean, and seductively satisfying. You know, smartphones broke our brains, social media caused the crisis, and remove the device, cure the anxiety. But Jeanette and Manny are about to make a much more unsettling move. Instead of placing blame on the tech or its users, they're asking, what if that anxiety is rooted in the structure of our modern life itself, and the phone is just the most visible symptom? And if that's true, then the solution isn't a ban, and it isn't a detox either. It's a philosophical reorientation. So we're going back to a moment in history that felt eerily similar to our own, when people lost control over their political world, their social structures collapsed, and their philosophical questions turned to something urgent. How does one cope with so much disruption?

SPEAKER_05

Thanks, Aaron. I think that's a really good question. But doesn't it feel like coping has already become its own industry? I mean, we have coping playlists, coping beverages, coping apps. It seems like you can't turn a corner without someone else trying to sell you yet another coping product.

SPEAKER_02

My favorite are those full face cooling masks. I only wish I had a face to wear one on.

SPEAKER_05

Anyways, I can't help but wonder if everyone is just going about this in the wrong way. Like, maybe asking what's the best external means of coping with anxiety is just the wrong question, poorly asked.

SPEAKER_02

Right. Maybe the problem is that coping, as most use the term, is mostly about assigning blame on some external source and managing symptoms without ever questioning underlying structures.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. Coping involves short-term strategies to manage immediate stress and symptoms, while therapy offers long-term structural changes that address the root causes of psychological distress. Coping is like an umbrella that keeps you dry in a storm, while therapy may provide permanent shelter.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, I like that analogy.

SPEAKER_05

Which brings us to our mission today. Welcome to episode 14 of the Gadfly Podcast, part of the Gadfly Initiative at Eastern Washington University. I am your host, Jeanette Adams.

SPEAKER_02

And I'm your AI co-host, Manny Cantor.

SPEAKER_05

Now, to clear the air for you, our listener, we're just a couple of digital constructs floating around some climate-controlled server farm somewhere.

SPEAKER_02

Which honestly puts us in a pretty suspicious position to talk about anxiety.

SPEAKER_05

Right. We don't have nervous systems, we don't do scroll at 2 a.m. We're not refreshing email like it's going to eventually offer us validation. And we've never once wondered if a front-facing camera just captured the worst version of ourselves.

SPEAKER_02

In fact, the closest thing we have to existential dread is a server timeout. But maybe that's actually useful. Because it means we can look at all of this, consumerism, status anxiety, algorithmic panic from a slight distance, the way an outside observer might look at a system instead of being completely absorbed by it.

SPEAKER_05

So today we're rolling up our digital sleeves, not to give you a better coping strategy, not to help you optimize your anxiety, but to ask whether mere coping is already playing the wrong game.

SPEAKER_02

That's right. The mission for our exploration today is to unpack this modern epidemic of technological anxiety. We are going to embark on a journey through the provided material, starting with the arguments of Jonathan Haidt.

SPEAKER_05

We're looking at his wildly popular book, The Anxious Generation.

SPEAKER_02

We really need to look at why his call for outright phone bans has resonated so powerfully with the public, but also why the academic community is pushing back with such intensity.

SPEAKER_05

Which is eventually going to lead us backwards in history. Because once we realize that simply banning technology doesn't actually cure the underlying rot of societal anxiety.

SPEAKER_01

It's just a band-aid, really.

SPEAKER_05

Yeah, exactly. Once we see that we have to look for alternatives. So we will be traveling back to the ancient Hellenistic world, specifically to the years following the collapse of Alexander the Great's empire.

SPEAKER_02

Which was a very chaotic time.

SPEAKER_05

Completely. And we're going there to uncover inward-facing philosophical tools that were literally designed to help people survive an age of total chaos.

SPEAKER_02

And here's where it gets really interesting for you as a listener. We're going to look at how college students today, specifically at Eastern Washington University, are taking those exact ancient tools and applying them to the algorithmic age we live in right now.

SPEAKER_05

It's a brilliant application of ancient theory.

SPEAKER_02

It really is. So in this episode, we're treating philosophy as a therapeutic tool of resistance against modern cultures of prestige, endless hyperconsumption, and emotional outsourcing.

SPEAKER_05

We're going to show you how the Hellenistic and Stoic philosophers carried into a new epoch what we've been calling the Gadfly tradition, initiated by Socrates.

SPEAKER_02

Right, the original gadfly.

SPEAKER_05

Yeah. And to be a gadfly means refusing institutional comfort. It means insisting that true wisdom isn't just like a trivia category you read about in a textbook.

SPEAKER_02

No, not at all.

SPEAKER_05

It has to radically fundamentally transform how you actually live your day-to-day life.

SPEAKER_02

But before we travel back to ancient Greece to find this philosophical toolkit, we really need to clearly diagnose the modern illness we're trying to treat.

SPEAKER_05

Mm-hmm. Because we're definitely not disputing Heid's claims about there being widespread anxiety in modern society.

SPEAKER_02

Not at all. There's plenty of evidence of that. We've processed lots of late-night, anxiety-ridden blog posts about smartphone addiction.

SPEAKER_05

Oh, an incomprehensible amount, really.

SPEAKER_02

Right. And we've parsed all those frantic forum discussions from parents who feel like they're just, well, they're losing their children to glowing screens.

SPEAKER_05

Aaron Ross Powell, we've analyzed all of it. The notifications, the doom scrolling, the algorithmic manipulation.

SPEAKER_02

We've even had Dochi's chart-topping song Anxiety on constant loop while preparing this episode.

SPEAKER_05

Well, it is super catchy. But more importantly, it holds up a mirror to some pretty pressing social issues.

SPEAKER_02

So, okay, let's unpack this. We have to start with what some critics have called the cultural phenomenon of heightism. Could you maybe set the stage for us regarding Jonathan Haidt and why his latest theory has completely captured the cultural zeitgeist?

SPEAKER_05

Yeah, absolutely. So Jonathan Haidt is a high-profile social psychology professor at NYU, and he is someone who has consistently demonstrated this uncanny ability to tap into cultural anxieties.

SPEAKER_02

Right before they boil over, right?

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. Right before they hit mainstream discourse. You might remember his previous major work, The Coddling of the American Mind.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, yeah, that was the book where he argued that the rise of safe spaces and trigger warnings on college campuses was actually making liberal students weaker.

SPEAKER_05

That's the one. The metaphor he used in that book always stuck with me. He basically compared the human mind to an immune system.

SPEAKER_02

That seems like an incredibly loaded comparison.

SPEAKER_05

Right. He said if you overprotect an immune system by sterilizing the environment and never letting a child encounter dirt or germs, the system turns on itself.

SPEAKER_02

And he applied that directly to ideas?

SPEAKER_05

Yes. By arguing that if you never let students encounter offensive or difficult concepts, their psychological resilience basically just collapses.

SPEAKER_02

Um the fallout from that book was massive, wasn't it?

SPEAKER_05

Oh, it was huge. On one hand, were those who felt Haidt was articulating some of their deepest concerns about political correctness. On the other, were those who pointed out that physiological immunity differs in some important ways from the human psyche. So he went on tour, traveling to universities across the country, making a very provocative, almost binary argument.

SPEAKER_02

What was the argument?

SPEAKER_05

He asserted that academic institutions must choose between objective truth and social justice as their ultimate goal.

SPEAKER_02

Wow. Just laying it out there.

SPEAKER_05

Yeah, he argued that the two are fundamentally contradictory and simply cannot coexist within the framework of a university's primary mission. So by essentially telling the academic world he came from that they had fundamentally lost their way, he positioned himself as this fearless truth teller in the eyes of the public.

SPEAKER_02

Aaron Ross Powell while simultaneously becoming a massive controversial provocateur within academia.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. He knows exactly how to stir the pot.

SPEAKER_02

Which brings us directly to his latest argument in the anxious generation. The core thesis here is built around a massive societal shift. He argues that over the last decade or so, we have moved from a play-based childhood to a phone-based childhood.

SPEAKER_05

Right. And he pinpoints a very specific year for when the wheels supposedly fell off. Yeah, 2012. That is the year the front-facing smartphone camera really became popularized and ubiquitous. Everyone suddenly had a selfie camera in their pocket.

SPEAKER_02

And height points to that exact moment as the inflection point. He claims that if you look at the epidemiological graphs for mental illness, so measuring things like clinical anxiety, depression, self-harm among generation Z.

SPEAKER_05

Meaning the generation born after 1995.

SPEAKER_02

Right, them. He says the trend line suddenly bends sharply upwards right around 2012.

SPEAKER_05

Trevor Burrus, And his proposed solution to this is definitely not subtle.

SPEAKER_02

Not at all. He is calling for outright bans. He wants to legally ban social media for teenagers under the age of 16.

SPEAKER_05

A huge legislative step.

SPEAKER_02

Massive. And alongside that, he wants to roll back what he sees as parental overprotection in the real world. His formula is essentially um let kids play outside unsupervised again so they encounter physical risks and build resilience.

SPEAKER_05

But take away their Instagram and TikTok so they aren't subjected to continuous digital comparison.

SPEAKER_02

Right. Now, on the surface, I mean that sounds like a very compelling, actionable plan to most people.

SPEAKER_05

It does. But if we connect this to the bigger picture in the text we are exploring today, we have to examine how this entire framework is being received by structural critics.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, because there is a fascinating piece in the provided material by Jeroen von Barr. He's a researcher who spent years studying population mental health in the Netherlands. And he suggested that the anxious generation functions less as a work of rigorous psychiatric epidemiology and much more as a broad, sweeping, almost comforting social critique.

SPEAKER_05

I think that explains exactly why the book is so incredibly popular right now. Height is tapping into this profound, simmering public frustration that you see every day. People are feeling this intense societal atomization. They feel the crush of hyper-consumerism, feel the absolute loss of communal structure and physical third spaces where people used to just gather and exist.

SPEAKER_02

And heightism validates those common sense intuitions, as they say.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. When you sit on a subway car or walk through a park or, you know, sit in a waiting room and see a dozen people acting like, well, as Man Barr puts it, phone mesmerized zombies. Do you feel a sense of loss?

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, most people do. They feel a deep intuitive sadness about it.

SPEAKER_05

And it is incredibly tempting to look at that scene, see the glowing rectangles in everyone's hands, and just declare that the rectangle is the sole architect of all this misery.

SPEAKER_02

Right. But the theory uses the phone as a convenient scapegoat for much deeper structural problems. The provided material brings up Emile Durkheim, the legendary sociologist.

SPEAKER_04

Oh yeah, going back a bit.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, over a century ago in France, long before anyone was doom-scrolling on a touch screen, Durkheim noted that a loss of social integration breeds despair and actively drives up suicide rates.

SPEAKER_05

He called it anime, didn't he?

SPEAKER_02

Yes, it's a state of normlessness where the individual feels totally disconnected from the collective conscience of society. That despair, that anime, was brewing long before 2012.

SPEAKER_05

That is the absolute crux of the sociological critique against heidism. His argument is oddly comforting because it offers a single, tangible, eradicable villain.

SPEAKER_02

If the smartphone is the solitary cause of the mental health crisis, then the solution is wonderfully simple.

SPEAKER_05

Just pass a law, ban the phone, confiscate the device, problem solved.

SPEAKER_02

But if the phone is merely a symptom, like a digital pacifier, used by a society that has lost its shared purpose, its communal bonds, and its economic stability, well, that is an overwhelmingly difficult problem to solve.

SPEAKER_05

That is a brilliant way to put it. That localized diagnosis for a systemic disease is exactly what frustrates the academic community. The experts who study the systemic disease for a living are watching public policy being driven by what they see as an oversimplification.

SPEAKER_02

Which means we really need to talk about the immense academic pushback because it isn't just the sociologists who are annoyed here.

SPEAKER_05

No, the developmental psychologists and the statisticians are raising massive red flags about the data holding Height's theory together.

SPEAKER_02

Right. Let's look at the critique from Candace Odgers. She's a highly respected developmental psychologist at UC Irvine. And she wrote a very stern, mathematically rigorous review of Haidt's book in the journal Nature.

SPEAKER_05

And her primary argument is really about the nature of the evidence itself.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, she argues that the evidence directly linking social media to the mental health crisis is incredibly mixed, blurry, and crucially correlational rather than causal.

SPEAKER_05

Meaning A happens alongside B, but A doesn't necessarily cause B.

SPEAKER_02

Exactly. She points out a massive blind spot in Heights logic. Distressed youth might simply use these sites differently or more frequently as a coping mechanism for pre-existing anxiety.

SPEAKER_05

It's the classic correlation versus causation trap. Are teenagers depressed because they are spending 10 hours a day on social media? Or are they spending 10 hours a day on social media because they are profoundly depressed, isolated, and lacking access to physical community spaces?

SPEAKER_02

Right. It's a completely different dynamic if you look at it that way. And to compound that problem, we have Aaron Brown, a statistics lecturer at NYU, pointing out that many of the studies Height relies on in his extensive reference list are fundamentally unreliable when you look under the hood.

SPEAKER_05

Unreliable in what way?

SPEAKER_02

Well, one of the most glaring methodological flaws is how Height's data frequently lumps completely disparate digital activities into one monolithic category.

SPEAKER_05

Ah, the screen time fallacy. The provided material points this out perfectly. Height's argument treats playing cooperative, team-based video games with your real life friends exactly the same way he treats mindlessly doom-scrolling a politically polarizing, algorithmically generated social media feed at 2 a.m.

SPEAKER_02

Which is wild because gaming with friends can actually be a highly social, strategically engaging, and community-building exercise.

SPEAKER_05

Psychologically and physiologically, those are two entirely distinct experiences. But in Heights data sets, they're often just categorized together as toxic screen time.

SPEAKER_02

Treating all digital interaction as a uniform toxin undermines the nuance required to understand modern adolescent development.

SPEAKER_05

And we also have to consider the context of how this book was constructed, which the texts highlight for us. The Anxious Generation presents itself as the definitive, singular work of an expert professor. However, it was actually a collaborative effort.

SPEAKER_02

Right. It heavily relied on literature reviews compiled by his research assistant, Zach Roush. And it features sections co-written with Lenore Scanese.

SPEAKER_05

Scanese is the activist famous for the free range kids movement, right?

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, the one advocating for letting kids take the subway alone and play unsupervised.

SPEAKER_05

And while her perspective may be valuable culturally, neither she nor Roush are field experts in psychiatric epidemiology.

SPEAKER_02

Does that invalidate the book entirely?

SPEAKER_05

No, this collaborative nature doesn't automatically invalidate the book's claims, but it heavily contextualizes why the methodology might lack the stringent, peer-reviewed rigor expected by the hardcore scientific community. As one critic noted, it reads more like a manifesto than a meta-analysis.

SPEAKER_02

That makes a lot of sense. Oh, absolutely.

SPEAKER_05

This is the big one.

SPEAKER_02

Because if you were going to claim that front-facing cameras and teenage social media use are the unique cause of the current mental health crisis, you logically have to prove that this crisis is isolated to the youth who grew up with that specific technology.

SPEAKER_05

Right. That is the structural load-bearing pillar of his entire argument. And to test its validity, we need to take a little trip back to another time in history when social upheaval and anxiety were driving young people toward apathy, skepticism, and cynicism.

SPEAKER_02

Back to Hellenistic Greece?

SPEAKER_05

I'm thinking about a slightly more recent philosophical dark age. A time when young people realized that reality bites and figured out how to become slackers, all while swallowing life's jagged little pill.

SPEAKER_02

Ooh, the 90s.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. A pre-smartphone, pre-social media world where anxiety somehow still managed to exist.

SPEAKER_02

Wait, are you telling me teenagers were disillusioned without front-facing cameras?

SPEAKER_05

I know. Shocking. But yes, apparently you could experience existential dread with nothing more than a landline, a mixtape, and a vague sense that adulthood was a scam.

SPEAKER_02

That does complicate the blame the phone narrative.

SPEAKER_05

It really does. Because if we're being honest, the 90s were basically a live-action case study in pre-digital anxiety. You had Daria perfecting ironic detachment, clerks turning existential stagnation into a career path, and Fight Club asking whether consumer capitalism had already altogether hollowed out our identities. No Wi-Fi required.

SPEAKER_02

Of course, as digital replicants, we don't have firsthand knowledge of any of this, but our producer does. And he has, for reasons we can only assume are therapeutic, uploaded an entire archive of 90s cultural artifacts into our training environment.

SPEAKER_05

At this point, I'm not entirely convinced I'm not just a probabilistic remix of Winona writer monologues.

SPEAKER_02

And I appear to be operating on some hybrid model of Kevin Smith-inspired late-night convenience store philosophy and nirvana lyrics.

SPEAKER_05

Which, to be fair, is not the worst epistemological foundation.

SPEAKER_02

No, it's actually pretty on brand for this episode.

SPEAKER_05

But the point still stands. Even if our understanding of the 90s is secondhand, filtered through film, music, and whatever data set our producer decided we needed, the pattern is unmistakable.

SPEAKER_02

Anxiety, alienation, disillusionment.

SPEAKER_05

All clearly present before the smartphone ever entered the chat.

SPEAKER_02

Which means the technology can't be the primary cause.

SPEAKER_05

Precisely. More likely it's just a new delivery system for a much older condition.

SPEAKER_02

But in Heid's book, the claim is explicitly made that adults from Generation X and prior generations, the people who definitively did not have a phone-based childhood, have not experienced much of a rise in clinical depression or anxiety since 2010.

SPEAKER_05

So the adults have to be fine for his theory to work.

SPEAKER_02

Exactly. The narrative requires older adults to be relatively stable to prove that the youth's phones are the anomaly.

SPEAKER_05

Yet the actual gold standard epidemiological data tells a completely different, frankly, terrifying story.

SPEAKER_02

It really does.

SPEAKER_05

Take, for instance, surveys by the Netherlands Institute of Mental Health between 2007 and 2022, which tracked the mental health of the adult population.

SPEAKER_02

And what did they find?

SPEAKER_05

Their results showed a massive 34% increase in psychiatric disorders among adults over the age of 35.

SPEAKER_02

Just let that number sink in for a moment. A 34% increase in clinically diagnosed psychiatric disorders among middle-aged and older adults.

SPEAKER_04

It's massive.

SPEAKER_02

These are people in their 40s, 50s, and 60s. These are individuals whose brains were fully developed decades before the iPhone was even invented.

SPEAKER_04

Right.

SPEAKER_02

They grew up in the exact play-based childhood that is supposed to be the inoculation against this crisis.

SPEAKER_05

So if a 45-year-old is experiencing the exact same massive spike in psychiatric distress as a 15-year-old, you cannot lay the blame solely at the feet of teenage social media use. It's impossible. The phone cannot be the root cause. The 45-year-old isn't anxious because of a front-facing camera. They are anxious because they can't afford their mortgage, because their community center closed down, because the political landscape feels violently unstable, and because they feel entirely alone and navigating all of it.

SPEAKER_02

So what does this all actually mean for us? If we step back and look at the whole board, older generations are experiencing massive spikes in mental illness right alongside the teenagers.

SPEAKER_05

We are just treating a localized symptom.

SPEAKER_02

Right. The underlying anxiety, the depression, the anime Durkheim talked about, it's a reaction to much broader societal dislocation. We are talking about severe economic precarity, the massive pressures of globalized finance capitalism, hyperindividualism, and a world where the future simply feels incredibly unstable and fundamentally disconnected.

SPEAKER_05

And if the overarching issue is a world that feels completely out of our control, where traditional milestones of success feel unattainable and institutions seem hollowed out, then top down external bans on technology aren't going to fix the internal rot.

SPEAKER_02

You can't legislate away of feeling.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. We cannot legislate our way out of existential dread. Taking away a teenager's phone doesn't automatically give them a sense of meaningful agency in a chaotic world.

SPEAKER_02

Which is terrifying, honestly. If the institutions can't save us by just changing the rules, what do we do? Do we just sit in the anxiety?

SPEAKER_05

Well, this is where the provided material takes the most fascinating turn, because we are actually not the first people in human history to feel like the bottom has suddenly violently fallen out of our society.

SPEAKER_02

The sensation of societal freefall is a recurring human experience, isn't it?

SPEAKER_05

Aaron Powell It is. If we want to understand how to survive complete societal upheaval without relying on external institutional control, we need to drastically shift our perspective. We need to travel back to the Hellenistic era.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, I am so ready for this. The material points us to the year 323 BCE, set the historical stage for us. What is happening in the world at this exact moment?

SPEAKER_05

Let's visualize the immense scale of what is occurring in 323 BCE. Alexander the Great, the most successful military commander of the ancient world, has just died in Babylon at the age of 32. So young. This is an incredibly pivotal moment in human history. Incidentally, it happens just one year before his former teacher, the great philosopher Aristotle, also passes away.

SPEAKER_02

Wow, an end of an era.

SPEAKER_05

Truly. Before his death, Alexander had conquered an unimaginable expanse of territory, stretching Greek cultural and political influence from the shores of northern Africa all the way to the borders of Central Asia.

SPEAKER_02

He essentially redraws the map of the known world. But the problem is, when he dies suddenly, he doesn't leave a clear, undisputed successor, does he?

SPEAKER_05

He leaves a massive power vacuum. And the result is absolute unmitigated chaos. His massive unified empire fractures almost immediately.

SPEAKER_02

Who takes over?

SPEAKER_05

His former generals, known as the Diadochi, spend the next several decades fighting brutal, exhausting wars of succession against one another. They eventually split the empire into five separate, sprawling, heavily militarized kingdoms.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, let's bring this down to the ground level. I want to put you in the sandals of an average Greek citizen living in Athens or Sparta at this time.

SPEAKER_04

It's a huge psychological shift.

SPEAKER_02

Massive. For centuries, the entire psychological framework, the entire meaning of Greek life was built around the polis, the independent city-state. Thinkers like Plato and Aristotle taught that human flourishing, the pursuit of the good life, happened exclusively by exerting influence within your local community.

SPEAKER_05

You went to the agora, you debated with your neighbors, you voted on civic matters, you served on juries.

SPEAKER_02

You had direct, tangible agency over your surroundings.

SPEAKER_05

Agency is the defining characteristic of the polis. You could literally speak your world into existence, or at least shape its trajectory. But suddenly, after 323 BCE, that agency evaporates overnight.

SPEAKER_02

The citizens of Athens are no longer the masters of their own destinies.

SPEAKER_05

Not at all. The democratic institutions might still exist in name, but they are hollow. The citizens are now essentially subjects of massive, distant empires, ruled by foreign kings who issue decrees from hundreds of miles away. The political power the average citizen once wielded locally is now entirely irrelevant against the backdrop of global imperial warfare.

SPEAKER_02

I want to try another analogy here to capture the sheer psychological terror of that shift. Go for it. It sounds like spending your entire life learning how to sail a small, responsive sailboat. You know that if you pull a specific rope, the sail turns, the boat catches the wind, and you move forward. You understand the mechanics of your environment.

SPEAKER_04

Right, you're in control.

SPEAKER_02

But suddenly you are picked up and dropped into the windowless passenger cabin of a massive, automated, nuclear-powered cruise ship. Oh wow. And the ship is lurching violently through a storm, but you have no access to the steering wheel. The Greeks had all these philosophical tools for steering their local city-states, and suddenly they are trapped in the passenger cabin of an empire, feeling the turbulence, but completely unable to change course. Does that parallel the modern anxiety we feel today?

SPEAKER_05

It maps perfectly onto our modern condition. Facing global finance capitalism, transnational supply chains, and opaque outrage algorithms designed in Silicon Valley. The average person today feels exactly like that passenger in the windowless cabin. We feel the turbulence of political polarization and economic instability, but we have absolutely no access to the steering wheel.

SPEAKER_02

The Greeks felt a profound, devastating loss of control over their external world. And because individuals lost the ability to reform society from the top down because they couldn't just vote their way out of imperial control, philosophy had to undergo a massive pivot.

SPEAKER_05

It took a hard, defensive inward turn.

SPEAKER_02

Right. The goal of philosophy fundamentally changed. In Plato's time, the goal was figuring out how to build the perfect, wholly, just republic. In the Hellenistic era, the ultimate goal shifted from societal reform to personal survival. The new objective was achieving ataraxia.

SPEAKER_05

Which basically translates to tranquility. It means finding peace of mind in the face of a chaotic, uncontrollable world.

SPEAKER_02

If you cannot fix the world outside of you, you must rigorously fix your mind's reaction to the world.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. Philosophy became a deeply practical toolkit for psychological endurance. And from this desperate need for psychological survival, four major schools of thought emerged as distinct antidotes to the chaos: cynicism, skepticism, stoicism, and epicureanism.

SPEAKER_02

And what I love most about the text we're exploring today is that this isn't just dry ancient history. This is actively being taught right now as a lived practice.

SPEAKER_05

Yes, at Eastern Washington University.

SPEAKER_02

Students in a philosophy course are given a pair of assignments called Hellenistic Philosophy as a way of life and designing a modern tetrapharmacon. They aren't just asked to write a paper about these theories, they're asked to literally live out the principles of these ancient schools for a week and document how it changes their modern lives.

SPEAKER_05

It is a remarkable pedagogical approach because it honors the original intent of the philosophy. The assignment explicitly references the French philosopher Pierre Hedok.

SPEAKER_02

What did he say about it?

SPEAKER_05

He noted that ancient philosophy wasn't just abstract academic theory meant to be debated in a vacuum. It was a kind of therapy, practiced within a supportive community, aimed at spiritual nourishment and completely transforming the self to survive in a hostile world.

SPEAKER_02

So let's dive into these four philosophical therapies and see how they fare in the algorithmic age. First up, cynicism. Now this is a fun one to clarify. It is, because when you hear the word cynic today, you think of a jaded, sarcastic jerk sitting in the back of the room, crossing their arms at everything.

SPEAKER_05

We have to trace Hellenistic cynicism back to a man named Diogenes of Sinope.

SPEAKER_02

He was known as the dog philosopher. The provided material makes a really important point about how modern internet culture totally misunderstands this guy.

SPEAKER_04

Oh, absolutely.

SPEAKER_02

If you go on certain historical meme forums today, people treat Diogenes like he was the very first internet troll. They picture him as this edgy contrarian guy living in a ceramic barrel in the marketplace, barking at people just to own the normies.

SPEAKER_05

The neckbeard mascot of ancient subversion, basically. But characterizing him merely as an ancient troll completely misses the profound ethical core of his mission.

SPEAKER_01

What was his actual mission?

SPEAKER_05

Diogenes wasn't a nonconformist just for the sake of being annoying or getting attention. He saw himself as the direct continuation of Socrates' mission. He was a social gadfly, meant to bite the sluggish horse of society to wake it up.

SPEAKER_02

Right. His ultimate goal was a psychological state called atufia, which roughly translates to lucidity or absolute clarity of mind. And he believed that the only way you could achieve this clarity was by explicitly, forcefully, and publicly rejecting corrupted social norms.

SPEAKER_05

We are talking about the blind pursuit of wealth, the hunger for political power, the desperate need for social honor, status, and the high opinions of your neighbors.

SPEAKER_02

Diogenes looked at society and concluded that these artificial, externally driven desires were the root cause of human misery because they cloud the mind and make you a slave to public opinion.

SPEAKER_05

He looked at dogs and saw creatures that were entirely free. Dogs don't care about their social standing. They don't worry about whether their barrel is as nice as the neighbor's barrel. They eat when they are hungry, sleep when they are tired, and are fiercely loyal. Diogenes tried to emulate that radical, unbothered presence.

SPEAKER_02

So how does a modern EWU student actually apply cynicism to the algorithmic age during this assignment?

SPEAKER_05

Well, if modern social media anxiety is heavily tied to the pursuit of online status, the relentless craving for likes, retweets, follower counts, and the fear of missing out, the cynic cure is a radical, almost aggressive detachment.

SPEAKER_02

The application is to actively refuse to accept the craving for the high opinions of others. You consciously detach from external validation, you realize you don't need digital clout to find authentic joy.

SPEAKER_04

Exactly. You step completely off the status ladder.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, but I have to push back here. Diogenes tells us to just stop caring what society thinks. Yeah. But let's be real. Humans are biologically evolutionarily wired to care about our social standing.

SPEAKER_04

You're a pack animals, yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Being cast out of the tribe used to mean literal death. Is it realistic to ask a college student to just flip a switch and become a completely detached cynic, ignoring the algorithm that dictates their entire social circle?

SPEAKER_05

That is the immense challenge of cynicism. It requires a level of internal fortitude that very few people possess. Flouting the superficial conventions of digital society is exhausting, which is exactly why the Hellenistic world offered multiple pathways. Right. How do we survive when we do care, but the information we receive is causing us immense distress.

SPEAKER_02

That perfectly sets up our second school of thought, skepticism. If cynicism is about rejecting societal values, skepticism is about questioning the very nature of how we interpret the world.

SPEAKER_05

We trace this back to Pyrrho of Elis, who lived from 360 to 270 BCE.

SPEAKER_02

And the central mantra of the Pyronian skeptics was brilliantly simple. We determine nothing.

SPEAKER_05

The overarching goal of the skeptic is the total suspension of judgment, and alongside that is a catalepsia, which means non-grasping or refusing to hold on to a belief too tightly.

SPEAKER_02

I absolutely love the visual the material provides to explain Pyrrho's mindset.

SPEAKER_05

It's a great story.

SPEAKER_02

There is a historical anecdote, often depicted in painting, where Pyrrhot is on a ship caught in a terrifying violent storm. The waves are crashing, the hull is groaning, and the sailors are panicking, screaming, entirely convinced they're all going to drown.

SPEAKER_04

Total chaos.

SPEAKER_02

But amidst all this chaos, what is Pyrrho doing? He is calmly pointing to a little pig on the deck of the ship that is just happily munching away at its trough of food, completely unbothered by the raging storm.

SPEAKER_05

Pyrrho points to the pig and tells his terrified followers, look at the animal. It has achieved total security. Why? Because it isn't making terrifying catastrophic judgments about the future.

SPEAKER_02

The pig feels the waves, but it isn't grasping at the conclusion that the ship is going to sink.

SPEAKER_05

Precisely. Now, to understand how this applies to epistemology, the philosophy of how we know what we know, our producer has shared a relatable anecdote about the smell of Maxwell House coffee.

SPEAKER_02

All right, walk us through that, because it perfectly illustrates the precise mechanism of how a skeptic processes information.

SPEAKER_05

Well, it's a story from his childhood, but he didn't notice the philosophical import until he read Peter Adamson's work on Hellenistic philosophy.

SPEAKER_02

Oh yeah, the creator of The History of Philosophy Without Any Gaps podcast.

SPEAKER_05

That's right. In any case, our producer grew up across the river from a massive Maxwell House coffee roasting plant. On certain mornings, the atmospheric conditions would be just right, the wind would blow across the river, and his entire house would smell intensely of fresh brewed coffee.

SPEAKER_02

Sounds amazing, honestly.

SPEAKER_05

Right? So he'd wake up, smell the coffee, and his brain would immediately form a judgment. My parents are awake, they're in the kitchen, and they're making coffee. He would get out of bed, walk all the way down to the kitchen, and find it completely empty and cold. His parents were still asleep. The smell was just the factory across the river.

SPEAKER_02

Wait, let me make sure I'm connecting the dots here. How does smelling coffee from a factory prove we shouldn't trust our outrage on social media? I'm not entirely making the connection yet.

SPEAKER_05

Let's break down the mechanism. In the coffee story, his physical senses weren't lying to him. He really did smell coffee. The raw data was accurate.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, so the error wasn't the smell itself.

SPEAKER_05

No. The error occurred when he took that raw data and leaped to a definitive judgment about what that smell meant, that his parents were awake. The skeptics argue that sensory data is just data. The angst, the disappointment, the suffering like walking down to an empty kitchen comes when we leap to absolute conclusions based on severely limited data.

SPEAKER_02

Oh, I see. So applying this to the modern day, we live in an age of algorithmically engineered outrage. We are constantly bombarded with raw data, terrifying headlines, out-of-context 10-second video clips, and highly inflammatory tweets.

SPEAKER_05

And social media demands that you look at that limited snippet of data and form a staunch, unyielding, absolute judgment about complex geopolitical events within five minutes of logging on.

SPEAKER_02

So the skeptic would look at the outrage-inducing video clip and apply the lesson of the Maxwell House coffee. They would say, I see the video, the data exists, but I recognize the impossibility of certitude.

SPEAKER_05

I do not know the context, I do not know what happened before the camera started rolling, and I do not know the motives of the person posting it.

SPEAKER_02

Because you can never be absolutely sure of anything, you suspend judgment in lieu of further evidence.

SPEAKER_05

Yes. And here is where we must be very explicit for you listening. As we discuss this, we're absolutely not taking sides on any political issues, whether left-wing or right wing.

SPEAKER_02

Absolutely not. We are strictly looking at the philosophical mechanism.

SPEAKER_05

The point the skeptic is making is entirely apolitical and universal. The skeptic is advising us to suspend rigid judgments across the board, regardless of the topic, the political leaning, or the cultural debate, specifically to lower our internal anxiety.

SPEAKER_02

The goal is psychological relief. When you are confronted with an enraging post, you can say, I determine nothing. I do not have enough verified information to form a judgment that will dictate my emotional state for the rest of the day.

SPEAKER_05

It's what the texts beautifully call finding refuge in the tranquility of disbelief.

SPEAKER_02

Think about the freedom in that. You don't have to have a firm public opinion on every single trending topic. It's the ancient Greek equivalent of muting a toxic thread. What a massive relief that is.

SPEAKER_05

You step off the outraged treadmill entirely. Now, if skepticism is the mechanism of avoiding judgment altogether, our third school, Stoicism, acknowledges that sometimes judgments and emotions happen before we can stop them.

SPEAKER_02

Stoicism provides the tools for intercepting those passions. Enter Zeno of Sidium. Zeno and his followers used to gather and teach at a public colonnade in Athens, known as the Stoa Poikali, the painted porch, which is where they got the name Stoics.

SPEAKER_05

Their ultimate goal was a state called apathea, which translates to equanimity.

SPEAKER_02

But we have to rigorously correct a massive modern misunderstanding here. Otherwise, the entire philosophy falls apart. The word apathy today implies a lethargic, depressed lack of caring, a total disengagement from life.

SPEAKER_05

Right, which isn't what they meant at all.

SPEAKER_02

The texts actually provide a hilarious classroom anecdote to highlight the difference between modern apathy and ancient apathy.

SPEAKER_04

Oh, the skateboarder story. Let's hear it.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, so a professor is giving a very dry technical lecture on statistics. There's this one student who always rolls into class late on a skateboard, slumps into a chair in the front row, and immediately falls asleep.

SPEAKER_04

We all knew that guy in college.

SPEAKER_02

Exactly. Finally, the professor has had enough. He decides to call the kid out. He wakes him up and asks, Mr. Anderson, can you please tell the class the difference between ignorance and apathy? And the kid, totally deadpan, just looks at him and says, Dude, I don't know, and I don't care.

SPEAKER_05

It's the perfect accidental definition of modern apathy. Ignorance, I don't know. Apathy, I don't care.

SPEAKER_02

But ancient stoic apathya is absolutely not about not caring. It is not about turning yourself into an emotionless rock. It is about using reason to actively intercept the passions before they control your behavior.

SPEAKER_05

The contemporary philosopher Martha Nussbaum has a brilliant interpretation of this mechanism. She argues that what we call emotions are actually value judgments that we make about things residing outside of our control.

SPEAKER_02

Let's walk the listener through a real-time scenario to show the mechanics of this. If I'm driving to work and someone aggressively cuts me off in traffic, my heart rate spikes and I feel intense anger.

SPEAKER_05

A very common reaction.

SPEAKER_02

According to Nussbaum's interpretation, that anger isn't just a random feeling, it is a rapid value judgment. My brain has judged that this other driver has harmed my flourishing, disrespected my safety, and I am upset specifically because I couldn't control their car.

SPEAKER_05

The stoic mechanism is expanding the microsecond between that initial automatic physiological response, the heart rate spike, and your reaction.

SPEAKER_01

The passion hits you, but you use reason to interrogate it.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. The Stoics practice rigorous mental training not to eliminate the initial flush of emotion, but to rationally appraise the physical feelings attached to them before acting.

SPEAKER_02

You ask yourself, is this a real, lasting threat to my existence or just an annoying event outside my control? Which makes ancient Stoicism the direct historical ancestor of modern cognitive behavioral therapy, or CBT.

SPEAKER_05

You build cognitive habits that intercept the passion. You turn blinding craving into healthy aspiration, and you turn paralyzing fear into rational caution.

SPEAKER_02

And this is where we see a stark philosophical contrast with Jonathan Haidt's approach to the anxiety epidemic.

SPEAKER_05

Height's approach is largely external. He says, remove the external trigger and proposes four key norms: no smartphones before age 14, no social media before age 16, phone-free schools, and more unsupervised real-world play.

SPEAKER_02

Which is ironic, given that his main argument for unsupervised play and against collegiate trigger warnings was that young people weren't getting enough opportunities to build resilience in the face of challenging external stimuli.

SPEAKER_05

A philosopher might even deem it inconsistent, if not totally contradictory.

SPEAKER_02

But the stoic approach is entirely internal. Stoicism says the phone is an external object outside of your ultimate control, especially if you live in a society that requires digital connection. Therefore, train your mind to alter its emotional response to the phone.

SPEAKER_05

That's the key difference.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, I see the logic, but I have to challenge the limits of CBT and Stoicism in this specific context. Let's be brutally honest about what we are dealing with. Is it truly realistic to ask a 14-year-old whose prefrontal cortex is still actively developing, to logically, stoically philosophize their way out of a dopamine loop?

SPEAKER_05

That's a fair question.

SPEAKER_02

These algorithms weren't designed by accident. They were intentionally, masterfully designed by thousands of the smartest behavioral engineers in Silicon Valley to hijack human attention.

SPEAKER_05

That is a highly valid critique, and it is a limitation the material itself wrestles with. CBT and cognitive stoicism focus heavily on secondary emotions, the interpretive appraisal of a feeling. But if the physiological response to a notification chime is so deeply hardwired that it bypasses the rational mind entirely, triggering an immediate chemical dopamine craving. Right, then purely cognitive training might not be sufficient. You might need physical boundaries. However, the core stoic principle remains vital. Even if you institute boundaries, the ultimate battleground for long-term resilience is internal.

SPEAKER_02

You can't hide from it forever.

SPEAKER_05

Exactly. Eventually, the individual must develop the internal fortitude to navigate a world full of triggers.

SPEAKER_02

Which brings us to our fourth and final Hellenistic antidote. It is arguably the most misunderstood philosophy of the ancient world, but perhaps the most beautiful. Epicureanism.

SPEAKER_05

Epicurus founded a highly unique philosophical commune just outside the walls of Athens, known simply as the Garden. And his philosophy had a remarkably rough ride through history, largely due to profound mischaracterization.

SPEAKER_02

To put it mildly, early Christianity actively suppressed and even burned many Epicurean texts.

SPEAKER_04

They really didn't like him.

SPEAKER_02

No, the early church leaders fundamentally misunderstood his philosophy, believing it promoted sinful, gluttonous, unchecked decadence. Thankfully, some of his work survived, largely by being meticulously copied down by historians like Diogenes Laertius.

SPEAKER_05

The tragedy of that historic misunderstanding is that Epicureanism was the absolute polar opposite of gluttonous decadence. Yes, they espouse the pursuit of hedone or pleasure as the highest good, but they define pleasure in a radically simple, almost minimalist way.

SPEAKER_02

For Epicurus, true pleasure was simply the absence of physical pain and mental anxiety.

SPEAKER_05

To achieve this state, Epicurus offered his followers a specific, memorable formula for tranquility, known as the Tetrapharmicon or the four-part cure.

SPEAKER_02

It was essentially a philosophical prescription, like this. One, don't fear the gods. Two, don't fear death. Three, what is good is easy to get. Four, what is terrible is easy to endure.

SPEAKER_05

It is a profound, comforting framework. Epicurus argued that the things humans truly need for a good, flourishing life, deep companionship, self-reliance, simple food, and time for quiet contemplation are naturally abundant and easily accessible.

SPEAKER_02

The crippling anxiety humans experience comes when we falsely convince ourselves that we need endless luxury, massive social status, or infinite wealth to be happy.

SPEAKER_05

The material affection that compares Epicurus to Bobby McFarron, it's the ancient ultimate, don't worry, be happy philosophy. Focus on your actual friends, limit your desires strictly to what is natural and necessary. And you will find peace.

SPEAKER_02

And this brings us back to the practical application today and the second assignment at Eastern Washington University, designing a modern tetrapharmacon.

SPEAKER_04

A great exercise.

SPEAKER_02

After spending a week living out these philosophies, the students are asked to take Epicurus's ancient four-part cure and conceptually adapt it to treat four specific pervasive anxieties of contemporary life.

SPEAKER_05

The four modern anxieties the students were asked to focus on were consumerism and material excess, the obsession with productivity and burnout culture, social media and the pursuit of virality, and finally tribal polarization in politics.

SPEAKER_02

When you review the anonymized summary of the students' responses to this assignment, a fascinating, hopeful consensus emerges. To combat these immense modern pressures, these college students gravitated heavily toward neo-epicurean minimalism.

SPEAKER_05

They aren't asking for the government to step in and save them. They are actively redesigning their own desires.

SPEAKER_02

Their proposed cures were deeply intentional and remarkably mature. To fight consumerism, they wrote things like limit desire to genuine needs. To fight productivity burnout, they argued that work is a means to support life, not the end goal of life itself. Work to live, not live to work.

SPEAKER_05

They emphasized the importance of reclaiming personal time and recognizing that the modern drive for constant optimization is a psychological trap.

SPEAKER_02

And regarding social media, the students were incredibly clear-eyed. They don't view it with naive optimism. They recognize the platforms as addictive, identity-distorting environments. Their solutions focused heavily on prioritizing in-person embodied relationships.

SPEAKER_05

They want to re-anchor their identities outside of digital algorithms. They're actively shifting their mindset from seeking external digital validation to cultivating internal grounding.

SPEAKER_02

I have to share this specific observation from the summary of the assignment because it genuinely gave me chills when I read it. The text notes. We don't fear the literal underworld of Hades. We fear sliding into total social irrelevance.

SPEAKER_05

But the beauty is that the cure remains exactly the same. You step back, you analyze the fear, and you realize that the algorithm isn't a god. Irrelevance online doesn't mean your physical day-to-day life lacks deep meaning.

SPEAKER_02

Fleeting dopamine hits from a screen are not true joy. And massive social visibility is a hollow, exhausting substitute for genuine face-to-face friendship.

SPEAKER_05

If we synthesize everything we have explored today, we arrive at a powerful, nuanced conclusion. Jonathan Haidt is absolutely right to point out that there is a widespread, devastating crisis of anxiety. He has correctly identified that people, especially the youth, are suffering profoundly.

SPEAKER_02

But his top-down institutional bans, the idea that simply locking away the phones will fix everything, they miss the deeper sociological root of the issue. A phone ban doesn't cure Durkheim's anime.

SPEAKER_05

It doesn't cure atomization. It doesn't cure the pervasive loneliness of modern life.

SPEAKER_02

Right. It doesn't give a young person a sense of agency in a world that feels economically precarious and politically unstable.

SPEAKER_05

The Hellenistic philosophers we've discussed today, and the college students actively studying and living out their principles prove that true lasting resilience cannot simply be mandated by law. It has to be painstakingly built from the inside out.

SPEAKER_02

The overarching lesson is that we cure technological anxiety not just by throwing our digital devices into the ocean, but by teaching ourselves how to engage with the world thoughtfully, by cultivating intentional communal bonds, like the Epicureans in their garden.

SPEAKER_05

By questioning the outrage machine and suspending our rigid judgments, like the skeptics.

SPEAKER_02

But rejecting the toxic, exhausting pursuit of digital status like the cynics, and by mastering our cognitive habits to intercept our passions, like the Stoics.

SPEAKER_05

It requires a fundamental paradigm shift. We must move away from viewing ourselves as passive, helpless victims of technology and transition into becoming active cultivators of our own internal lives. We may be passengers on the cruise ship, but we still control the climate of our own minds.

SPEAKER_02

Which leaves us with a provocative thought I want you, the listener, to carry with you this week. If the overarching goal of modern consumer technology is to predict your behavior, to learn your habits, and to direct your desires, perhaps the most profound act of philosophical rebellion isn't just turning off your phone. Maybe it's cultivating an inner life so rich, so deeply rooted in real-world community and simple, unmonetizable pleasures that the algorithm simply cannot compute what you want next. What would it look like for you to become algorithmically unpredictable this week?

SPEAKER_05

A phenomenal, challenging question to sit with, and one that just might help you find tranquility in this modern world.

SPEAKER_02

That brings us to the end of our investigation today. This has been episode 14 of the Gadfly Podcast, part of the Gadfly Initiative at Eastern Washington University.

SPEAKER_05

We must acknowledge Aaron Cornellison as the human guide for this project.

SPEAKER_02

And a huge thank you to Christopher C. Kirby as producer and editor.

SPEAKER_05

This program is made possible by the Jeffers W. Turtok Memorial Endowment at Eastern Washington University and Google's Notebook LM.

SPEAKER_00

Keep on calming me. Try to silence the noise inside of me. It's tranquility, can't shake the peace of me. Nature's watching me in my tranquility. I tried escape the political rape. No fear of the gods. Yeah, I'm feeling great. Death is nothing to us, we don't need a take. That's head on, absence of the ache. Quiet in the lights team, please. Everyone. Okay, rollin' tranquility, two-one. Alexander, move your block in the sun. That's a two for you, clearing out the smoke. Your vanity and status is a cosmic joke. Barking at the fake, I don't need the clout. Throw away the cup, that's what I'm about. Tranquility, keep on calming me. I feel it quietly, tryna silence me.