Donald Robertson – How to Think Like a Roman Emperor: Book Review & Audio Summary

Book Info

• Book name: How to Think Like a Roman Emperor: The Stoic Philosophy of Marcus Aurelius
• Author: Donald Robertson
• Genre: Social Sciences & Humanities (Psychology, Philosophy, Sociology), Self-Help & Personal Development
• Pages: 272
• Published Year: 2019
• Publisher: Piatkus (an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group)
• Language: English

Audio Summary

Synopsis

Donald Robertson bridges ancient wisdom with modern psychology in this compelling exploration of Marcus Aurelius’ stoic philosophy. The book examines how one of Rome’s greatest emperors used stoic principles to navigate power, adversity, and personal struggles. Robertson, a psychotherapist and stoicism expert, reveals how the four cardinal virtues—wisdom, morality, courage, and moderation—guided Aurelius through the challenges of leadership and life. Through accessible language and practical examples, readers discover how to apply these timeless principles to contemporary challenges, from managing anger and anxiety to finding authentic happiness. This isn’t just philosophy—it’s a practical handbook for developing emotional resilience and living virtuously in an unpredictable world.

Key Takeaways

• Stoicism teaches us to live in harmony with nature by accepting what we cannot control while focusing our energy on our thoughts, actions, and character development.
• The four cardinal virtues—wisdom, morality, courage, and moderation—provide a consistent behavioral compass for navigating life’s challenges regardless of circumstances.
• Authentic happiness comes from mastering our passions and emotional reactions rather than chasing external pleasures or avoiding discomfort.
• Virtue is developed through deliberate practice and consistent choices, not perfection—it’s about continually striving to align our actions with our values.
• Marcus Aurelius demonstrated that even those with immense power and privilege can live simply and virtuously by maintaining focus on what truly matters.

My Summary

A Philosophy Born in the Heart of Empire

I’ll be honest—when I first picked up Donald Robertson’s “How to Think Like a Roman Emperor,” I expected another dry philosophy book filled with abstract concepts that sound great in theory but fall flat in practice. Instead, what I found was something refreshingly different: a practical guide that weaves together ancient wisdom, modern psychology, and the remarkable life story of Marcus Aurelius.

Robertson, who works as a cognitive-behavioral psychotherapist, brings a unique perspective to stoicism. He doesn’t just tell us what the ancient Stoics believed—he shows us how their practices align with contemporary psychological research and, more importantly, how we can actually use them in our daily lives. This isn’t philosophy for philosophy’s sake; it’s a toolkit for better living.

What struck me most about this book is how Robertson humanizes Marcus Aurelius. We often think of Roman emperors as distant, marble statues of perfection. But Aurelius was a real person who struggled with anger issues, faced immense pressure, and dealt with personal tragedies. The fact that he managed to live virtuously despite—or perhaps because of—these challenges makes his philosophy all the more compelling.

Living in Agreement with Nature: What Does That Actually Mean?

The foundation of stoic philosophy rests on a deceptively simple idea: live in harmony with nature. When I first encountered this concept, I thought it meant something like “go camping more often” or “eat organic vegetables.” But Robertson clarifies that the Stoics meant something far more profound.

Living in agreement with nature means accepting the fundamental structure of reality. You were born into this world through natural processes, you’ll eventually return to nature through death, and in between, you’re subject to natural laws you can’t change. Fighting against this reality is like arguing with gravity—pointless and exhausting.

This doesn’t mean becoming passive or fatalistic. The Stoics weren’t advocating for lying down and letting life happen to you. Instead, they recognized a crucial distinction: there are things within your control and things outside your control. Your thoughts, judgments, and actions? Those are yours to command. Other people’s opinions, natural disasters, economic downturns, or even your own body’s eventual decline? Not so much.

Marcus Aurelius internalized this distinction so deeply that it shaped his entire approach to leadership. When faced with barbarian invasions, plagues, political betrayals, and personal losses, he didn’t waste energy railing against fate. Instead, he focused on responding with wisdom and virtue—the only things truly within his control.

In our modern context, this principle feels incredibly relevant. We live in an age of constant connectivity where we’re bombarded with news about things we can’t control: political turmoil, climate change, economic uncertainty, global pandemics. The stoic approach doesn’t ask us to ignore these realities, but rather to focus our energy where it can actually make a difference—in our own thoughts, choices, and actions.

The Four Cardinal Virtues: Your Behavioral GPS

Robertson dedicates considerable attention to what the Stoics called the four cardinal virtues: wisdom, morality (or justice), courage, and moderation (or self-discipline). These weren’t just abstract ideals to admire from afar—they were practical guidelines for daily decision-making.

Wisdom, in the stoic sense, means seeing things clearly as they really are, not as we wish them to be or fear they might become. It’s about distinguishing between what matters and what doesn’t, what we can change and what we must accept. Marcus Aurelius constantly reminded himself to strip away the stories and judgments we layer onto events and see the bare facts underneath.

Morality or justice involves treating others fairly and recognizing our interconnectedness. The Stoics believed we’re all citizens of a universal community, and that harming others ultimately harms ourselves. This wasn’t naive optimism—Aurelius knew people could be frustrating, selfish, and difficult. But he chose to respond with understanding rather than contempt, recognizing that people act poorly out of ignorance, not malice.

Courage meant more than physical bravery in battle. It included the courage to face uncomfortable truths, to admit mistakes, to change course when wrong, and to stand up for what’s right even when it’s unpopular. For Aurelius, courage also meant confronting his own mortality and accepting the impermanence of all things without flinching.

Moderation or self-discipline was perhaps the virtue that required the most daily practice. It meant choosing delayed gratification over immediate pleasure, restraint over indulgence, and simplicity over excess. Remarkably, Marcus Aurelius—who had access to every luxury the Roman Empire could provide—chose to live relatively simply, often sleeping on a hard camp bed even in his palace.

What I find powerful about these four virtues is how they work together as a system. Wisdom helps you identify the right course of action. Morality ensures that course benefits not just yourself but the broader community. Courage gives you the strength to follow through even when it’s difficult. And moderation prevents you from being swayed by fleeting impulses or overwhelming emotions.

Training Your Mind Like an Athlete Trains Their Body

One of Robertson’s most valuable contributions is explaining how the Stoics actually practiced their philosophy. This wasn’t armchair theorizing—it was active training, similar to how an athlete develops physical skills through repeated practice.

Marcus Aurelius used several specific techniques that Robertson explores in detail. One was the practice of morning meditation, where Aurelius would mentally prepare for the day ahead. He’d remind himself that he’d encounter difficult people—those who were selfish, ungrateful, or hostile—and he’d prepare his responses in advance. This wasn’t pessimism; it was realistic preparation that prevented him from being caught off-guard and reacting poorly.

Another technique was evening reflection, where Aurelius would review his day and examine his actions. Did he live according to his values? Where did he fall short? What could he do better tomorrow? This practice of self-examination, done without harsh self-judgment, allowed for continuous improvement.

The Stoics also practiced something Robertson calls “cognitive distancing”—the ability to step back from your initial emotional reactions and examine them objectively. When you feel anger rising, instead of immediately acting on it, you pause and investigate: What story am I telling myself about this situation? Is that story accurate? Is my reaction proportionate? What would wisdom, morality, courage, and moderation suggest I do instead?

I’ve personally found this practice incredibly useful in my own life. Just last week, I received a critical email that immediately triggered defensiveness and anger. My first impulse was to fire off a sharp reply. Instead, I took a stoic pause. I realized I was interpreting the email as a personal attack when it was actually constructive feedback delivered awkwardly. By creating that space between stimulus and response, I was able to reply thoughtfully rather than reactively—and actually improved a professional relationship rather than damaging it.

Mastering Anger: Marcus Aurelius’ Greatest Challenge

Robertson reveals something that made Marcus Aurelius much more relatable to me: he had serious anger management issues as a young man. This wasn’t a naturally calm person who effortlessly floated above life’s frustrations. He was someone who struggled with intense emotions and had to work deliberately to manage them.

The stoic approach to anger is fascinating and differs significantly from modern advice. The Stoics didn’t advocate for “venting” anger or “letting it all out.” They recognized that expressing anger often reinforces the neural pathways that make you more prone to anger in the future. Instead, they focused on addressing anger at its root—in the judgments and interpretations that generate the emotion in the first place.

When someone cuts you off in traffic, the event itself doesn’t create your anger. What creates anger is your judgment: “That person is a reckless idiot who disrespected me!” The stoic approach asks you to examine that judgment. Maybe the person didn’t see you. Maybe they’re rushing to the hospital. Maybe they’re just a poor driver struggling with a skill they haven’t mastered. None of these interpretations excuse dangerous driving, but they don’t require anger either.

This aligns remarkably well with modern cognitive-behavioral therapy, which Robertson notes throughout the book. CBT recognizes that our thoughts mediate our emotional responses, and by changing our thoughts, we can change our emotions. The Stoics figured this out two thousand years ago without brain scans or psychological research—just through careful observation and practice.

Marcus Aurelius developed such mastery over his anger that those who knew him remarked on his extraordinary patience and equanimity. But this didn’t happen overnight. It was the result of decades of consistent practice, daily meditation, and countless moments of choosing the virtuous response over the emotionally satisfying one.

The Path to Authentic Happiness

Robertson makes a crucial distinction between pleasure and happiness that the Stoics emphasized. Pleasure is fleeting and dependent on external circumstances—a delicious meal, a compliment, a financial windfall. These things feel good in the moment, but they don’t provide lasting satisfaction. In fact, chasing pleasure often leads to misery as we become dependent on things outside our control.

Authentic happiness, according to the Stoics, comes from living virtuously regardless of circumstances. It’s the deep satisfaction of knowing you’re living according to your values, treating others well, developing your character, and accepting life as it unfolds. This kind of happiness doesn’t depend on whether you’re rich or poor, healthy or sick, praised or criticized.

Marcus Aurelius had access to every pleasure the ancient world could offer. Yet he recognized that many wealthy and powerful people were profoundly miserable because they’d built their happiness on unstable foundations—external things that could be lost at any moment. He chose instead to find satisfaction in virtue, which no external force could take from him.

This concept challenges much of modern consumer culture, which constantly tells us that happiness comes from acquiring the next thing—a better car, a bigger house, the latest technology. The stoic perspective suggests this is a trap, a hedonic treadmill where satisfaction is always just out of reach. True contentment comes from within, from the development of character and the practice of virtue.

I’ll admit this is one of the harder stoic principles to fully embrace. We’re so conditioned to seek external validation and material success that it feels almost countercultural to suggest these things don’t matter much. But Robertson presents compelling evidence, both from ancient sources and modern psychology, that people who base their happiness on internal values rather than external achievements report greater life satisfaction and resilience.

Applying Stoicism to Modern Life

One of the strengths of Robertson’s book is how he translates ancient principles into contemporary applications. Here are several ways stoic philosophy can address modern challenges:

Managing Social Media and Information Overload

The Stoics would likely view our constant connectivity and information consumption with concern. We’re exposed to thousands of opinions, news stories, and crises daily—most of which we can’t influence. The stoic approach would be to drastically limit exposure to things outside our control and focus instead on our immediate sphere of influence. This doesn’t mean ignorance, but rather intentional consumption of information that actually empowers meaningful action.

Handling Workplace Stress and Difficult Colleagues

Marcus Aurelius’ morning meditation practice, where he prepared himself to encounter difficult people, is directly applicable to modern work environments. Before a challenging meeting or interaction, you can remind yourself that people act according to their own understanding, that you can’t control their behavior, and that your task is simply to respond with wisdom and professionalism regardless of how they act.

Dealing with Anxiety About the Future

Stoicism offers a powerful antidote to anxiety. Most anxiety involves worrying about future events we can’t control or that may never happen. The stoic practice of focusing on the present moment and accepting uncertainty can significantly reduce this mental suffering. As Aurelius wrote, we don’t have to carry the weight of the entire future—we only need to handle this present moment.

Navigating Personal Relationships

The stoic virtue of justice or morality, combined with the recognition that we’re all imperfect and struggling, can transform how we relate to others. Instead of demanding that people meet our expectations, we can accept them as they are while still maintaining healthy boundaries. We can choose to respond to conflict with understanding rather than escalation.

Facing Health Challenges or Loss

Perhaps nowhere is stoicism more valuable than when confronting illness, aging, or loss. The stoic acceptance of mortality and impermanence doesn’t make these experiences painless, but it can prevent the additional suffering we create by fighting against reality or asking “why me?” Marcus Aurelius faced multiple personal tragedies, including the deaths of several children, yet maintained his equanimity by accepting these losses as part of the natural order.

The Strengths and Limitations of Stoicism

Robertson’s book is admirably balanced in presenting both the power and the potential pitfalls of stoic philosophy. On the strength side, stoicism offers a practical, time-tested approach to developing emotional resilience, making better decisions, and finding meaning regardless of circumstances. It’s particularly valuable in our current era of constant change and uncertainty.

The integration with modern cognitive-behavioral therapy is another significant strength. Robertson demonstrates that stoic techniques aren’t just ancient wisdom—they’re approaches that contemporary psychology has validated as effective for treating anxiety, depression, and other mental health challenges.

However, Robertson also acknowledges some limitations. Stoicism’s emphasis on acceptance and equanimity can sometimes be misinterpreted as passivity or emotional suppression. The Stoics weren’t advocating for becoming emotionless robots—they recognized natural human feelings and advocated for managing them wisely rather than eliminating them entirely.

There’s also a risk that stoicism could be used to justify tolerating unjust circumstances rather than working to change them. While the Stoics emphasized accepting what we can’t control, they also believed in actively working to improve things within our sphere of influence. Marcus Aurelius didn’t just accept the problems in the Roman Empire—he worked tirelessly to address them within his capacity as emperor.

Some critics argue that stoicism can seem cold or lacking in empathy, but Robertson counters this effectively. Marcus Aurelius was known for his compassion and concern for his subjects. Stoic equanimity doesn’t mean not caring—it means caring deeply while not being overwhelmed by emotions that might cloud judgment or lead to poor decisions.

How This Book Compares to Other Stoicism Resources

Having read several books on stoicism, I can say that Robertson’s approach is uniquely accessible and practical. Ryan Holiday’s “The Obstacle Is the Way” offers a more contemporary, business-focused take on stoicism with modern examples. William Irvine’s “A Guide to the Good Life” provides a more systematic philosophical framework.

What sets Robertson’s book apart is the dual focus on Marcus Aurelius’ life story and the psychological mechanisms behind stoic practices. By weaving biography with philosophy and psychology, Robertson creates a more engaging and relatable narrative than purely philosophical treatments of the subject.

For readers who want to go directly to the source, Marcus Aurelius’ own “Meditations” is essential reading, though it can be challenging since it was never meant for publication—it was Aurelius’ private journal. Robertson’s book serves as an excellent companion to “Meditations,” providing context and explanation that makes the ancient text more accessible.

Questions Worth Pondering

As I finished Robertson’s book, several questions stayed with me, and I think they’re worth considering:

How would your daily life change if you truly accepted that you can only control your own thoughts, judgments, and actions? What energy are you currently wasting on things outside your control?

If you were to choose one of the four cardinal virtues to focus on developing over the next month, which would have the greatest impact on your life? What specific practices could help you develop that virtue?

Marcus Aurelius had immense power and wealth yet chose to live relatively simply and focus on character development. In what ways might our modern pursuit of success and accumulation be making us less happy rather than more?

Final Thoughts: Ancient Wisdom for Modern Times

Donald Robertson has created something genuinely valuable with “How to Think Like a Roman Emperor.” This isn’t just another self-help book promising quick fixes or easy answers. It’s a thoughtful exploration of a philosophical system that has helped people navigate life’s challenges for over two thousand years.

What I appreciate most is Robertson’s honesty about the difficulty of living stoically. He doesn’t pretend that reading this book will instantly transform you into a sage. Instead, he presents stoicism as a practice—something you work at daily, with inevitable setbacks and gradual progress.

The book has genuinely changed how I approach certain situations in my life. I find myself pausing more often before reacting, examining my judgments more carefully, and focusing my energy on what I can actually control. I’m not perfect at it—far from it—but I’m better than I was, and that’s the point.

Whether you’re dealing with stress at work, relationship challenges, anxiety about the future, or just feeling overwhelmed by modern life’s complexity, this book offers practical tools grounded in both ancient wisdom and contemporary psychology. Marcus Aurelius proved that these principles work even under the most extreme circumstances. The question is: are we willing to put in the practice?

I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve read the book or tried applying stoic principles in your own life. What practices have you found most helpful? What challenges have you encountered? Drop a comment below and let’s continue this conversation. After all, philosophy is best explored in community, and I think Marcus Aurelius would approve of that approach.