Modern Marcus: And now the credits (otherwise known as the first book)

I would just like to thank the Academy for this wonderful award (though as a Stoic, I’m not too bothered either way). However, as I’m here, I want to take a few minutes to mention some people who’ve had a massive impact on my life…

My grandfather Verus taught me to be gentle and not easily angered.

My dad gave me my sense of modesty and manliness.

My mum taught me to be generous and live a simple life. She helped me resist intending any evil to those around me. Thanks Mum.

My great-grandfather gave me my love of learning.

My teacher, among other things, taught me to love hard work, not to go chasing after every fancy that entered my head and to keep my nose out of others’ business.

Diognetus taught me not to get caught up in the trivialities of everyday life. He helped me view the world through sceptical eyes, not easily believing what I see or gambling my future on games of chance. He taught me to not be easily offended by what others say. And he’s the one who turned me on to philosophy.

Rusticus helped me get over myself. He showed me that I didn’t have it all figured out (even when I thought I did) and stopped me from looking like an idiot with every word that came out of my mouth. He helped me speak and write plainly and simply — and to make sure I really understood the facts in detail (not just whatever a thirty-second news bulletin managed to squeeze in). He advised me not to jump on every new fashion or blow my money on flashy outfits. He taught me to be quick to accept an apology and move on. And he introduced me to the work of the philosopher Epictetus, who left a powerful legacy on my life.

Apollonius taught me to take action, not to leave things to chance and never to give up my sense of reason. This gave me an unflappable composure (no matter how tough things got). He brought together both an unassuming character and a passion for what mattered. And he helped me accept the help and gifts of my friends without either feeling in their debt or pretending I didn’t care.

Sextus taught me generosity. He gave me a superb example of someone who’s a great father and who lived a natural life with dignity, who looked out for others and who had enormous patience with fools and chatterboxes. His charm was more powerful than any flattery, and everyone respected him. He was also methodical, able to boil things down to what was important and essential in life and deed. I never saw him get bent out of shape — he was always calm and kind. You knew when he approved without him making it a big thing. And even though he was highly educated, he never made a show of it.

Professor Alexander turned me off from finding faults with everyone and everything. He taught me you shouldn’t jump on every little thing others get wrong — from a mispronounced word to a mistimed tweet. It’s better to demonstrate the right approach by slipping it into something you say (especially if you do this while agreeing with what they’re saying).

Fronto made me realise that anger, underhandedness and deceit rub up closely with absolute power and that those who sit in the upper reaches of society rarely know what’s going on with everyone else.

Alexander the Platonist warned me against saying, ‘I’m too busy’ too often. He taught me to keep it for when it was really necessary and not shirk my responsibilities to work, society and my family.

Catulus taught me never to shrug it off when a friend was angry with me (even if they were being unreasonable) but to try to get back on good terms. He also encouraged me to speak well of my teachers and to be genuine and loving to my kids.

My brother Severus showed me what it means to love family, truth and justice. He introduced me to the works of some of the great thinkers and to the core ideas of how a community relies on equality and freedom of speech. From this, I learned that a nation exists to support the freedom of its citizens.

He also encouraged my love of philosophy (though tempered by treating every thought critically and rationally). He taught me to help others by default, to remain optimistic and to always be confident in the love of my friends. He was always straight with those who angered him (you knew where you stood with Severus).

My self-control, sense of purpose and good humour in the face of all the problems of modern life, I owe to Maximus. He managed to balance both dignity and charm and always got on with things without fuss or drama. He left people with the impression that he always spoke his mind and did the right thing by his conscience. He was never moody, never pretended to be happy when he wasn’t, and he didn’t allow anger or jealousy to cloud his thoughts and drive his actions. He never seemed surprised or scared by events. No one could intimidate or embarrass him either. His charity, loyalty and forgiving nature were simply in his DNA. I can’t imagine that anyone felt either inferior or superior to Maximus. What’s more, he loved a joke.

From my adopted father, the Emperor Antoninus Pius, I learned to stick to the decisions I made. He helped me become compassionate and to ignore praise. I admired his work ethic and the way he stuck at his tasks. He was always willing to listen when it came to anything that was for the good of society. I learned that rewards should be in proportion to merit. He knew when to be strict and when to chill out (also when to keep it in his pants).

Antoninus also understood that his friends had their own lives and didn’t try to dominate their time. He gave every question that came to him careful and deliberate thought (and never dismissed anything on his initial gut feel and assumptions). His friendships were long lasting — simple, honest and without show. In everything he did, he considered the details, understood the possible consequences and worked to determine the best solution. And he cared for the empire with careful planning and by avoiding waste.

He wasn’t superstitious about gods and he didn’t suck up to other people. He knew that it was better to demonstrate self-control and was suspicious of admiring something new just because it was new. What’s more, he wasn’t bothered whether people looked up to him or not and, while he enjoyed the benefits of being wealthy, he didn’t chase wealth for its own sake and was just as happy in modest surroundings.

He didn’t shoot his mouth off about this or that. He didn’t nitpick everything others said or did. He certainly respected those who were knowledgeable and wanted to learn, though he didn’t talk down to those who didn’t.

From him, I learned to take care of my body without obsessing over how I look. He taught me to relax, to avoid jealousy and to be quick to recognise others’ achievements (whatever they are). And when he did get sick, he’d soon get back to work afterwards (if anything, with more energy and purpose than before).

Antoninus didn’t keep many secrets — and most of those he did were to do with matters of state. He wasn’t big into grand gestures. He was always more focused on what was necessary to achieve a public good than what would look good in the eyes of others. He didn’t sneak off to the baths when people needed him and was content with whatever food he ate or clothes he wore.

One example that sums him up was how he treated a tax collector who targeted him by mistake. He didn’t get angry or lose it. It was more his style to weigh up the pros and cons — without either rushing or hesitating. He’d make decisions calmly and consistently but also with certainty and with fairness.

Ultimately, he was equally able to enjoy or deny himself all the stuff and nonsense that makes so many people crazy.

If there are gods, I should thank them for giving me good grandparents and parents, a good sister, good teachers, companions and friends (well, good for the most part anyway). I’m thankful I never fell out with my friends despite being the sort that might well do so if circumstances went a certain way.

I’m also thankful that I didn’t have sex too early or feel the need to prove I was a ‘real man’.

I had a father who helped me avoid being too arrogant and showed me that I didn’t need all the masses of stuff, legions of people or empty luxuries to live a good life. He taught me I could live like pretty much anyone else and still be able to lead my people.

I had a brother, Lucius, who challenged me to maintain my self-discipline and whose affection I found so disarming.

I was also fortunate to have children who were smart and healthy. I was fortunate too to be merely average at things such as rhetoric, poetry and other studies that could have easily consumed all my time if I hadn’t found them so tricky. Freed from trying to perfect these things, I could promote my teachers to the positions they deserved without worrying that they were too young or else putting it off and promising them rewards at some later date.

I’m thankful that I met Apollonius, Rusticus and Maximus. They gave me a true picture of how to live a rich inner existence. It meant that I had no excuse for leading anything other than my best life. I may not be there yet, but that’s solely down to me.

I feel blessed that my body has stood up to everything I’ve put it through. I’m glad I never hooked up with Benedicta or Theodotus and feel lucky that I escaped from other infatuations unscathed.

I’m thankful that, though Rusticus and I argued on many occasions, I never did anything so dumb that I’d regret it later. I’m also grateful that I got to spend so much time with my mum in the final years before her early death.

I’m lucky that whenever I found someone in need that I wanted to help, I was never told I couldn’t afford it. Fortunately, I was also never in a position to need such help myself.

I am so thankful to have found my wife — someone so loving, kind and unpretentious.

I’m glad I attracted great teachers for my kids.

Finally, I’m grateful that for all my love of philosophy, I didn’t end up learning from some hair-splitting pedant or wasting my time reading pointless theory.

For all this, I am truly thankful.