Trump v Starmer. From World War II to Modern Politics: A Stoic's Guide to Navigating Emotional Incontinence.

How Stoic Principles Can Help Us Navigate a World of Emotional Incontinence.

(A satirical cartoon contrasting Donald Trump's emotional, reactionary style with Keir Starmer's calm, pragmatic persona.)

I wasn't there, of course. It was way before my time. But from what I've learned, those who lived through World War Two didn't just survive; they learned to master hardship. I reckon the stoics of ancient Greece would have looked at the British "stiff upper lip" and thought, "Ah, yes, they've got it." While our forebears may not have called it by name, they were living out the principles of stoicism, an ancient philosophy that teaches us how to remain calm and resilient in the face of immense adversity.

Ancient Wisdom, Modern Lessons.

This idea of stoicism isn't something that belongs only to the past. It's a timeless human quality. While I haven't faced a world war, my own life, as I've shared in my autobiography, has required a similar kind of quiet resilience. It's a lesson we all learn in different ways: to focus on what we can control and let go of what we can't.

One of the great ancient stoics, Epictetus, is a brilliant example of this. Born into slavery, he endured physical abuse that left him lame, yet he never succumbed to bitterness. He taught that our external circumstances are beyond our control, but our thoughts and judgements are entirely our own. He’s the original 'mind over matter' guru, really. He rose above his physical bondage by choosing to be a free man in his mind, focusing on his inner character rather than his outward condition.

Now, you might think I'm some academic type with a deep understanding of ancient philosophy, but nothing could be further from the truth. I've simply learned through lived experience, coupled with a basic interest in what it means to live a good life. The attitude I've tried to embody is something most people would just assume to be a somewhat satirical indifference to everything.

The Meaning of 'Indifference.'

So, putting my satirical mind to one side for a moment, what does 'indifference' really mean? The dictionary says it's a lack of interest, concern, or sympathy. Fair enough. But, if you dig a little deeper, the stoic perspective has far more to do with considering things like wealth, social status, and even health as "indifferents"—they're not inherently good or bad, just "preferred" or "dispreferred." So, in this world of utter turmoil, 'peace' is preferred as much as 'war' is dispreferred, by example. The true good or bad, the stoics would say, lies only in our character and our moral choices.

A World of Emotional Incontinence.

It's a stark contrast to today's world, where we see an emotional incontinence permeate society. Instead of focusing on our inner state, we're encouraged to express every passing feeling, no matter how fleeting or trivial. We've become a culture of outrage and performative emotion, where we take offence at the least little thing, and our feelings override what we used to call common sense. The quiet, stoic approach of our forebears is often dismissed as a sign of weakness, but we have forgotten that true strength lies not in broadcasting our feelings, but in learning to master them.

Politics, Emotion, and Stoicism.

So, if true good or bad lies only in our character and moral choices, what in this modern world most influences those things within us? I'd say it's the never-ending noise of social media and the pressure to be seen. Our worth is now often measured by 'likes' and shares, not by who we are as people. It's a game of constant external validation, which can chip away at our ability to make good choices. And of course, the world of politics and government is always there, telling us what to be angry about, what to fear, and who to blame.

This brings me to a thought-provoking comparison. I recently took an interest in characterising Donald Trump during his visit to the UK, and just how far off course he is from a more stoic approach. It's safe to say his public image is the complete opposite of a calm, rational, and philosophical mindset. He appears to be deeply invested in external goods like wealth, fame, and power—the very things a stoic would classify as "indifferents." Rather than remaining unbothered by criticism, his entire political brand is defined by a constant, public reaction to his critics. His style isn't about reasoned debate; it's about emotional appeals and the projection of strength and authority. I could be wrong, of course, but it seems to me that he perfectly embodies the emotional incontinence we've been discussing.

And then, as a comparison, I chose to characterise our own Prime Minister, Keir Starmer. While Trump's style is all about explosive emotion, Starmer's public persona is one of studied calm. He is the quiet, methodical professional, a leader who appears to favour reason and policy over emotional appeals. This makes him, on the surface at least, a much more stoic figure. However, a stoic would not only remain calm but also stand firm in their virtues. Where Starmer’s approach may be seen as pragmatic and controlled, critics might argue that this can sometimes veer into a cautiousness that lacks conviction. It’s the difference between a philosophical commitment to inner strength and a political strategy of appearing unflappable.

An Odd Couple on the World Stage.

Given these two contrasting characterisations, how well are they suited to one another? One might assume they'd be a terrible match, but oddly, their differences seem to create a functional dynamic. Starmer's measured calm appears to give Trump the space to be himself, while Starmer can quietly work behind the scenes. In a strange way, their wildly different approaches—one an expression of emotional incontinence, the other a near-absence of it—cancel each other out, creating a peculiar but stable political pairing.

A Final Thought on Starmer's Future.

So, with all this in mind, let's play a speculative game with a nod to the current turmoil in Westminster. The rumour mill suggests Keir Starmer's public troubles might lead to a leadership challenge. If that were to happen, and he were to find himself without a job, his stoic-like character makes him an intriguing candidate to be our new ambassador in the USA. Given Peter Mandelson's recent sacking, a man of Starmer's temperament might be seen as the ultimate safe pair of hands. On the world stage, this would be a fascinating reversal. The UK would be sending a leader whose public persona is one of quiet reserve and meticulous preparation, a man who would present a calm and unflappable front to the world. It would be a stark contrast to the emotional bombast of Trump, but perhaps that very difference is what would make it work. It would be the ultimate test of the two extremes: the politician of pure emotion versus the statesman of pure reason.

As a final thought, perhaps our world doesn't need leaders who promise to feel our pain or rage on our behalf. Perhaps what we really need, in these chaotic times, is a return to that quiet, unglamorous strength that a generation before us learned out of necessity. It's a lesson worth remembering, and maybe even a philosophy worth trying.