It is a common observation that human beings are more individualistic than they ever have been. We hear endless hand-wringing about the decline of third spaces – community centres, after-school clubs, well maintained parks. And then there is the reasonable anxiety about the silo-ing effect of the internet: too much time spent on our phones at home means too little time spent experiencing the world together. And what about the pandemic? Working from home? Are we the loneliest generation?There’s more. Yes, some say Christianity is experiencing a minor revival (the jury is out on how robust the evidence for any of this is). But in the great sweep of history it is obvious that religious observance is trending downward, in the West at least. Blame it on all those contemporary mores such as sensible faith in science over blind faith in the ineffable. Or blame it on Richard Dawkins. Whoever’s fault it is, we know that the attendant rise of western secularism is held responsible for further human isolation – church is, at least, a communal activity. All of this conspires to boost the self-help industry – perhaps the most clear-cut case of 21st-century individualism. The subtle art of not giving a f*** by Mark Manson might epitomise the genre with its relentless focus on prioritising the self. But take a glancing inquiry into any such books and you are unlikely to find much in the way of “Kumbaya” and “love thy neighbour”. But it is one of the largest genres in the publishing industry, responsible for hundreds of millions of dollars of sales a year. Look to the colleague on your right: I bet they have Atomic Habits gathering dust somewhere on a bookshelf at home. Or at least something to similar effect. And what is the logical conclusion of this self-help generation? Brace for a neologism: looksmaxxing. This is the practice of optimising every aspect of your physical appearance. Traditional ideas such as maintaining a good diet, a light skincare regime, basic exercise three times a week? No, in the looksmaxxing “era”, that outlook is positively arcane. These “looksmaxxers” (I feel as stupid writing it as you must feel reading it) are breaking jaws in pursuit of the perfect profile, lengthening their bones with skeletal surgery (not joking!) and enjoying healthy dinners of amphetamines. But having exhausted the human capacity for self-improvement to the fullest extent – at least as far as modern technology will allow – are we finally seeing its demise? Perhaps you have encountered Steven Bartlett, the United Kingdom’s biggest podcaster and author of Happy Sexy Millionaire. This 21st-century philosopher king is prone to gnomic utterances such as “normality is ignored, absurdity sells” and banalities such as “context is key”. When I think of the immiserated self-improving, anti-fun, self-optimising generation, Bartlett comes to mind. He recently made news with the claim that three glasses of wine one night derailed his life for the ensuing three days. Bad sleep led to a bad diet led to no exercise led to bad podcasting (oh no!). We might have different definitions of a “derailed life”. But one so narrow and so obsessed with performance metrics – to the extent that you cannot enjoy some wine with friends – sounds pretty dreadful indeed. I have some advice for Bartlett. All this self-improvement is a modern man’s game, we are supposed to believe. But is it? The techniques, I suppose, are the product of modernity: you can’t have a giant publishing industry without the printing press; scientists had to invent amphetamines in a lab; and, well, Christianity has to dominate society before it can technically be in decline. But the instincts? The pursuit of the good? The idealised version of the “self”? Well, that’s positively ancient. [ Simon Lewis: I’m a school principal. I find it unsettling what First Holy Communion has becomeOpens in new window ]Plato spent a lot of time working out how to interpret physical reality. But all of that intellectual rigour allowed him to form a coherent philosophy toward self-betterment. Marcus Aurelius, the most famous Stoic, was on an endless path to self-improvement. Get up early, don’t concern yourself too much with the ideas of others, stay focused, eschew transient pleasure, don’t complain, mental discipline is the most significant power of all. [ Róisín Ingle: Since giving up alcohol, I’ve developed some strong opinions about itOpens in new window ]That sounds just like The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F***, albeit in a politer register. And you might find some resonances in Happy Sexy Millionaire too. But there is a critical difference between ancient Stoicism, or ancient ideas of maximising life, and this weak modern pop-ified version. Ancient Stoicism was obsessively concerned with the common good, the self as something connected to the world on a grander scale. Or, as philosopher of the ancient Stoics Nancy Sherman explains: “The me-focused view misses ancient Stoicism’s emphasis on our flourishing as social selves.”[ Pro tips from ancient thinkers: why are people in their teens and twenties suddenly so obsessed by the Stoics?Opens in new window ]Modern individualism has lifted all the wrong lessons from the past – and its culmination? The looksmaxxers, the cynical publishing genres, the idea that a few glasses of wine with friends is somehow the enemy, not the source, of a life well lived.