For the past week, the United Kingdom and the world mourned the death of Queen Elizabeth II. Many of her subjects were shocked by the emotions her passing produced, with even the most jaded Brits finding themselves teary-eyed at the long-expected news.
Obviously, it wasn’t due to a life cut short. The 96-year-old was the realm’s longest reigning monarch who lived a fuller life than most mortals can imagine.
A deeper reason for most is that she was queen their entire lives. And her voluntary service in World War II severed one more link to the heroic generation that endured German bombs and defeated the Third Reich.
But the most profound loss is her seemingly outdated style of leadership. Among world political leaders, Queen Elizabeth II was the last Stoic.
We’re familiar with the cliché of British emotional reserve that dominated the Victorian Age. Elizabeth took that one step further, turning duty into the sum total of her public life.
Her stiff upper lip and quiet strength was an anachronism in our era of tell-all books and emotional incontinence. A wonderful anachronism.
Despite its recent embrace by tech bros and self-help gurus, Stoicism still gets a bad rap.
Monarchy’s future:Why the queen’s funeral is more than just ceremony
Founded in ancient Greece and refined in Rome, the philosophy was never about bottling-up your feels while brooding over classical literature. One dictionary defines stoic as “not showing or not feeling any emotion,” but reading their books paints a very different picture.
Put simply, Stoicism was designed to maximize happiness even when life does you dirty – and it will do you dirty. The philosophers claimed the best way to accomplish this is to focus only on those things you can control and don’t sweat all that stuff you can’t.
The Stoics weren’t against emotion; they were against useless, counterproductive, negative emotion.
When the guy almost sideswipes you in traffic, take a deep breath and count to 10 instead of chasing him down and sideswiping him for real. When your daughter badly sprains her ankle on a hike, carry her to a doctor instead of cursing the heavens and dissolving into tears.
Stuff happens, but after a lot of practice, the stuff won’t freak you out so much.
Over her 70-year reign, a whole lot of stuff happened. The British Empire collapsed, deep economic woes hit, and wars were waged abroad. The Queen met each challenge with calmness and courage. She consulted with politicians behind closed doors, danced with leaders of the newly independent nations, and became the eye of the storm to her worried countrymen.
She kept calm and carried on.
Compare that to the younger members of our political class and the difference is stark. One elected representative lobs a juvenile Twitter insult at a colleague; the insulted pol posts a screamy video on Instagram condemning the outrage.
Partisans take their places and screech at their opponents, increasing public rage (and contributions for both politicians). It’s no wonder American politics are such a mess.
Elizabeth refused to take the bait. Some say the Windsor Family motto is “Never Complain, Never Explain,” and the Queen clung to it through family scandal, cruel gossip and the media frivolities of the day.
Her popularity waxed and waned, history tossed curveballs, but she nobly rose above it all. For seven decades, she remained steadfast and consistent – a very stable genius, if you will.
In the past few days, videos have shown King Charles III losing his cool over the old-fashioned fountain pens and inkwells he was asked to use. Granted, he’s had a very rough week, but perhaps he could read some Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, Epictetus and other great Stoics.
There are probably a few copies in mum’s library.
Jon Gabriel, a Mesa resident, is editor-in-chief of Ricochet.com and a contributor to The Republic and azcentral.com. On Twitter: @exjon.