James Stockdale: Resilience, Reality, and the Courage to Endure

This entry is part 11 of 41 in the series Journey Through Stoicism

This past Saturday, June 21, I attended a live performance of Hidden Brain, a show hosted by Shankar Vedantam. This is a show and podcast I listen to regularly on NPR. The event took place at the Bilheimer Capitol Theatre in Clearwater, Florida. The theme of the show was how perception shapes our choices. It offered seven short insights, each compelling in its own way. But for me, the most powerful came right at the beginning.

Vedantam opened with the story of Admiral James Stockdale. Most people remember him as Ross Perot’s running mate in 1992. In the vice-presidential debate, he opened awkwardly with, “Who am I? Why am I here?” That moment became a punchline, though I’m sure he was being his naturally insightful self. What didn’t make the headlines was the life he had already lived. That life included years of study, intense personal discipline, and an unmatched example of inner strength.

Stockdale was a Navy fighter pilot during the Vietnam War. In 1965, he was shot down over North Vietnam and taken prisoner. As he parachuted toward the ground, he later recalled thinking, “Five years down there, at least. I’m leaving the world of technology and entering the world of Epictetus.“¹

At the mention of Epictetus, I tuned in even more and likely gave a bit of a grin. I’ve been reading the Stoics over the past few months. It’s been a quiet study rooted in reflection and personal need. So, hearing the name Epictetus spoken on stage caught my full attention. Here was a radio show about perception, and it opened with one of Stoicism’s clearest voices.

Stockdale wasn’t just quoting a philosopher. He had studied Epictetus seriously, not as a side interest, but as preparation for life. During his military service, he carried a pocket copy of the Enchiridion, the Stoics’ handbook. Before ever setting foot in Vietnam, he had already committed to the idea that suffering was not the enemy — losing one’s character was.

He ended up spending over seven years in the “Hanoi Hilton,” a North Vietnamese prison. Four of those years were spent in solitary confinement. He was tortured repeatedly. He was denied basic contact with the outside world. And yet, he became a leader to the other prisoners. He built communication systems using taps and signals. He resisted propaganda efforts. He disfigured himself to prevent being used in staged photos. He made hard choices. But above all, he kept faith with his values.

That mindset would later become known as the Stockdale Paradox. It can be stated this way:

That paradox is the essence of Stoicism. The Stoics never promised that life would be easy. They didn’t ask people to ignore pain or pretend that bad things didn’t happen. They ask us to tell the truth about what we face and respond with courage, justice, and self-control.

Stockdale’s strength was not blind optimism. It was clarity. He knew what he could not change, but he also knew what he still controlled: his integrity, choices, and will. That is the heart of what Epictetus taught—that we do not control events, but we always control how we meet them.

It’s striking that Epictetus, a man born into slavery and later physically disabled, became the guide for a 20th-century military officer. But that’s what Stoicism does. It crosses time, rank, and role. It offers a way to remain upright, even in confinement. Stockdale’s suffering became his test but also his testament.

After the war, Stockdale served as president of the Naval War College. He lectured on ethics, leadership, and the practical use of philosophy. His writings make it clear that he never glorified what he endured. He simply tried to live with honor inside of it. He saw Stoicism not as a shield from pain but as a way to stay free in the deepest sense.

This kind of strength has very little to do with public image or success. It has everything to do with how we respond to pain, loss, and fear. Most of us will never face what Stockdale did, but all of us will face something that tests us at some point.

Today, our challenges are different. They come in the form of uncertainty, disappointment, or loss of direction. We are pulled by distractions and overwhelmed by complexity. The Stoics still have something to offer. They remind us that we are not powerless. We still have a say in how we act, what we value, and what kind of person we choose to be.

In a culture that often tells us to avoid discomfort, Stockdale reminds us that some truths must be faced, not avoided. Pain cannot always be escaped, but dignity can still be preserved. The Stockdale Paradox does not promise that things will get better soon. It only says that we must not lie to ourselves about where we are and that we must not give up on where we hope to go.

When we left the theater that day, I learned a great deal about perception and a bit more about Stoicism and one of its modern thinkers and practitioners. Stockdale taught about a quiet kind of endurance in hard times (perhaps the most difficult imaginable)—the kind that says, “Wherever I am, whatever my circumstances, I have choices.”

Stockdale would never want us to think of his story as a tragedy, but a study in character. This is part of why I think I’ve found my way to this study.

1. Warrior Philosophy – Marine Corps Association. https://www.mca-marines.org/gazette/warrior-philosophy/ ↩

2. Torres, J. M., & Akwaji-Anderson, C. (2020). 2020 Convocation. https://core.ac.uk/download/352135473.pdf ↩