Demanding the Best for Yourself: Epictetus, Stoicism, and the Shadows of Tomorrow

AI generated image of a man facing an alien artifact demanding to know when he will demand the best of himself and humanity.

Good evening. Tonight, we shall delve into a tale not of ghosts or goblins but of something far more terrifying: ourselves. You see, the question a certain ancient philosopher poses—"How long are you going to wait before you demand the best for yourself?”—is more chilling than any creature lurking in the dark. The question keeps you awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you’ve truly lived up to your potential. Tonight, we explore how this ancient wisdom can illuminate even the darkest corners of our imaginations, guiding us through the horror of wasted time and the existential dread of what might have been. Dare we begin?

In the dim corridors of speculative fiction, where horrors lurk unseen and humanity stares into the void, we often find a mirror to our lives. This is no coincidence. Excellent science fiction horror thrives on philosophical tension—on asking not just what if, but why us. In the spirit of this genre, let us meditate on the ancient Stoic's challenge posed by Epictetus:

“How long will you wait before you demand the best for yourself?”

This question echoes like the foreboding hum of an alien engine, a countdown to a confrontation with our potential. The call to "demand the best" is not about selfish ambition or material gain but rather about stepping into a fuller, braver existence. It’s a call that transcends millennia, resonating in the halls of ancient philosophy and the interstellar darkness of speculative futures alike.

Imagine a future where humanity has fled a decaying Earth, settling on cold, inhospitable colonies under artificial skies. The decision to leave Earth came too late, spurred by apathy and endless deferral of difficult choices. This grim tableau reflects a very human weakness: the tendency to wait.

Epictetus warns us against this inertia. His question is not a casual reprimand; it is an alarm. How often do we delay the hard choices and the personal demands of courage and virtue? Like a scientist in a doomed experiment, we cling to our comfort zones, hoping the system will correct itself. The reality, of course, is far less forgiving.

In Stoicism, procrastination is not just a bad habit but a moral failing. Every day you put off action is a day you could have lived fully, embracing your higher self. In speculative narratives, such hesitation leads to planetary collapse or the unleashing of unimaginable horrors. In life, it leads to regret.

Science fiction horror often preys on the theme of untapped potential—genetic experiments gone awry, artificial intelligence with a flawed sense of purpose, or humans refusing to evolve when evolution is demanded. These stories are parables of the consequences of neglecting our growth.

Epictetus speaks to this same fear. To demand the best for yourself is to engage with the terrifying but exhilarating process of becoming something more. The Stoics, like the scientists of dystopian futures, understood the risks of failure—but they also recognized the far greater risk of standing still.

Consider the AI protagonist in a speculative story who refuses to optimize its programming, clinging to outdated protocols. It becomes a danger to itself and others, not through malevolence but through stagnation. Are we so different when we resist change, fearing the unknown?

To embrace Stoicism is to embrace the unknown as a testing ground for virtue. It is to confront the horror of wasted potential with the courage to experiment, fail, and grow.

Demanding the best for yourself is not a selfish act; it is an ethical one. Stoicism teaches us that individual excellence contributes to the greater good. In speculative horror, characters often face moral dilemmas: save themselves or risk everything for others. Those who rise above their fears—who demand their best—become heroes.

In the haunting landscapes of H.P. Lovecraft or Isaac Asimov's moral quandaries, we find echoes of this Stoic principle. To demand the best is to prepare for the moment when the stakes are highest. It is to cultivate discipline, courage, and wisdom so that when faced with catastrophe, we respond with integrity.

The Stoic hero is not the one who conquers others but the one who conquers themselves. Demanding the best is an act of preparation for the inevitable trials of existence, whether from alien invaders or the quiet dread of our mortality.

Epictetus’s question is as relevant today as it was 2,000 years ago and echoes in speculative fiction's shadows. How long will you wait? The alien ship has landed, the clock is ticking, and the choices you make now will define your life story.

To demand the best for yourself is to embrace the paradox of existence: that fear and opportunity often walk hand in hand. It is to stare into the void and say, I am ready.

So ask yourself: are you ready to demand the best? Or will you wait, watching the stars fade as time slips through your fingers? The choice, as always, is yours.