How can the stoic philosophy of Seneca (Córdoba, 4 BC – Rome, 65 AD), one of the greatest philosophers of ancient times, be brought into the 21st century? And how can words written millennia ago speak to a present defined by resilience, adaptability, and collaboration? The map leads us to another great Spanish philosopher, still living today: Fernando Savater (San Sebastián, 1947): "There’s no one like María Zambrano (1904-1991)," he states. “She’s the best modern starting point.” Her book Séneca (Siruela, 2002) is essential reading. A philosopher recommending another to help explain a third— like stars aligning in the sky of wisdom.
This great Andalusian thinker was a realistic optimist, perhaps due to his experience as a teacher, lawyer, and philosopher in his time. Major changes take a lot of effort. They always have. But they also create opportunities for societies to grow. Today, one of those major shifts is the energy transition: moving from a fossil-based world to a sustainable one. What follows is an invitation to rethink our relationship with energy. Senecan thought encourages us to practice virtues like resilience, justice, the common good, and innovation— priorities that, more than 2,000 years later, are more relevant than ever. How do we get there?
The extraordinary thinker María Zambrano wrote: “Man must know what he is and who he is.” In Aristotelian terms: “The acorn yearns to become the oak within it.” The greatest challenge of our time is to replace fossil fuels with renewable energy, promote electric vehicles, and recognize that same Aristotelian potential that emerging solutions like green hydrogen and biofuels have. A steady change, guided by stoic calm.
The philosopher’s book opens with a beautiful line: “To have culture, to be part of a culture, is to have a treasure behind each person’s life—sometimes anonymous, sometimes named and visible.” That treasure is the Earth as we’ve known it for 400,000 generations (the entire span of human existence). It's clear (just look at the news or our surroundings) that climate change sets unavoidable limits and compels us to change how we produce and consume energy. Here, resilience emerges as one of the great virtues of Seneca’s thought.
And of course, it’s far from the only one. Socrates already said it: “Virtue can be taught; we are the masters of our own destiny.” This lesson isn’t limited to personal or moral life—it can also guide us through the significant collective challenges of our time. One such challenge is the transformation of mobility, visible today in the rise of electric vehicles. It requires changing travel habits, relying on new infrastructure, and—as we’ve seen—adapting to a different energy consumption model. Seneca’s thought frames any transition not as an obstacle, but as an opportunity for a more efficient way of living. Just as physical exercise strengthens the body and mind—a core principle of ancient philosophy—technological adaptation strengthens a society's ability to innovate and progress.
One of the most important things we can take from Zambrano was her gift for understanding the ancient world and linking it to the present. Her literary work and thinking remain remarkably relevant today. For example, she wrote: "Man has found the faith to calm himself in the face of enormous physical forces." Today, this can be read as an invitation to trust in our ability to turn those forces into our allies. In terms of energy, this confidence manifests as technologies like green hydrogen, one of the most ambitious avenues of current energy research. And she added: “Life is dispersed; it needs unity.” Her words remind us to stay calm during long and complex processes, and to see difficulty as an opportunity for learning. The energy transition isn’t a race to see who can finish first; it’s a long-term vision that will make a difference in the coming decades.
Seneca was a philosopher in pursuit of reason and truth, seeking to distinguish the essential from the accessory. He lived in an era marked by as much dishonor as one can imagine. As people searched for answers, public debates raged on, economic uncertainties loomed, and resistance to cultural change was widespread. Today, our objective is clearly mapped out: stay the course and avoid getting lost in the noise. The goal is to reduce carbon dioxide emissions, curb global warming, and ensure a better future for generations to come. We have to prioritize what truly matters. “All men are human, and what is possible for me should be possible for others,” wrote journalist and poet Juan Gelman (1930–2014) in Bajo la lluvia ajena (Libros del Zorro Rojo, 2018). And in each of us lies the possible need to collaborate and innovate— perhaps one of the greatest levers for the decades ahead.
Innovation is making incredible progress. Europe and Spain are leading the way in electric mobility, renewable energy, and hydrogen projects. Following Gelman—a stoic in his own time—companies, institutions, and citizens are beginning to view the energy transition not as a burden, but as a pathway to new opportunities in competitiveness, employment, industry, and global leadership. Seneca—as mentioned earlier—the Andalusian lawyer, teacher, and protector of the vulnerable, “was an intellectual, and an intellectual is always a reformist,” Zambrano recounted. He knew exactly where he was headed. As we stand on the shores of the energy transition, we envision a sustainable, efficient, and resilient system. This task demands discipline, international cooperation, and above all, the conviction that every step matters. Just as the Stoics calmly accepted nature’s cycles, today we must recognize that sustainability is no longer optional—it’s the only path to the future.
Seneca lived in a time ripe for contemplating the nature of time itself. The world was fuller than ever before, brimming with splendor, power, leisure, and commerce. Yet his message had already been cast in the bottle for the centuries to come. Our homeland—as Juan Gelman suggested—is now the entire planet, and our brothers and sisters are all of humanity: The world, our partner. No rain that falls is foreign to us. And even less so the energy transition, which not only compels us to rethink our relationship with energy, but also opens—just as this article opened—the door to Stoic virtues: resilience, justice, the common good, and innovation. This is the power of philosophy: by understanding its own time, it can anticipate and illuminate the centuries ahead.
Miguel Ángel García Vega
He has been writing for EL PAÍS for some 25 years, currently for Cultura, Negocios, El País Semanal, Retina, Suplementos Especiales, and Ideas. His texts have been republished by La Nación (Argentina), La Tercera (Chile) or Le Monde (France). He has received, among others, the AECOC, Accenture, Antonio Moreno Espejo (CNMV) and Ciudad de Badajoz awards.