Seneca on Social Media as Corrupting Society

An imaginative retrieval of Seneca's advice to Nero Caesar

Seneca the Younger, a Stoic philosopher and statesman, still has much to teach us in our digital age. For Seneca, an emperor without clemency endangers not only his reign but the stability of the empire itself. He even argues that sometimes clemency means refusing to punish, and that speaking too much about inequality can stir rebellion. I cannot help but read him in light of our digital age, where each of us becomes a miniature emperor, our own CEO, curating and defending a personal brand.

Assuming Seneca is right for the sake of argument, I want to ask: how does recording every action we take and posting it to social media, especially bad behaviour, make us cynical, world-weary, and prone to assume the worst in each other?

Seneca’s Argument about Crime

Seneca wrote On Clemency around 55 AD, when Nero had just become a teenage emperor (54 AD). The work sought to instruct Nero in the virtue of clemency. Clemency means giving mild punishments or even pardons to those who deserve punishment. It is the glory of kings and those in high places.

Near the end of Book 1, Seneca writes:

“You’ll see, moreover, that the crimes commonly punished are the ones commonly committed. … The men of the very distant past, who were supremely farsighted and very canny about the nature of things, preferred to overlook the crime as though it were unthinkable and beyond all daring, rather than punish it and thereby show that it could be committed: thus parricides came into existence along with the law, as the punishment drew their attention to the deed. Filial devotion reached its nadir once we saw more sacks than crosses.” (On Clemency 1.23.1)

In context, Seneca recalls how often Tiberius used the poena cullei to punish those who murdered their fathers—a penalty in which the criminal was sewn alive into a sack with wild animals and thrown into a river. Yet despite the severity of the punishment, the crime of parricide only increased. It was almost as if emphasizing the crime made people consider it possible, and that thought led to action.

Seneca suggests that by over-emphasizing an evil deed, we can encourage more of it. So what is the alternative? He explains:

“In a community where people are rarely punished, innocence comes to enjoy general support and is kindly regarded as a common good. Provided that a community thinks itself innocent, it will be; it will be more indignant at those who depart from the general standard of goodness if it sees that they are few. It’s risky, believe me, to let a community see how many more wicked men there are” (1.23.2).

In other words, everyone does evil. But if we punished everyone strictly, society would collapse. People would see how bad we are and cynically assume, “Well, we’re all corrupt anyway.” And if there is no goodness, why should I strive to be good?

Jesus affirmed a similar principle when he confronted the Pharisees in Matthew 19. They claimed that Moses permitted divorce for any reason, but Jesus quickly pointed out that God created human marriage to be permanent. Paul likewise speaks of the reality that where law increases, sin also increases (Rom 7:8).

The problem is not with good laws. The problem lies in the human heart. We find it nearly impossible to respond rightly to correction because of the corruption of our flesh.

Seneca’s Argument about Slavery

To make the point another way, Seneca refers to slavery. At one point, it was proposed that slaves be distinguished from freedmen by their dress. But the problem would be obvious: once slaves saw their true numbers, they might realize their strength, creating a danger for freedmen.

Seneca explains:

“It was once upon a time proposed in the Senate that slaves should be distinguished from free men by their dress: it then became apparent how much danger would threaten if our slaves began to count us. Be sure that we would have to fear the same outcome if none received forgiveness; it would quickly become apparent how preponderant the worse segment of the community was. Having many occasions for punishment is no less a disgrace for a prince than many deaths are for a doctor. People better obey someone who gives his orders in a milder manner” (1.24.1).

Granted, we rightly reject slavery today. But using his words as an illustration of a general principle, his point is clear: the more we highlight inequality or lawlessness, the more unrest we stir up.

Christians argue against slavery by beginning with the truth that all people are created in God’s image. Second, Christians affirm that we cannot own another human like cattle. Therefore, it is wrong to own slaves. On this, consider reading Gregory of Nyssa’s homily against slavery for a classical expression of a similar argument.

So I do not want to imply that Seneca somehow should encourage us to cover up acts of sin or evil. But rather, I want to infer from Seneca’s general principle that by focusing so much on inequality instead of fostering greater benefit for all, we may have bred instability in North America. And by over-legislating and restricting speech and thought, we may have created a culture ready to resist authority altogether.

Seneca further observes:

“The human mind is stubborn by nature, struggling against anything that opposes it or puts an obstacle in its way, and it follows on its own more readily than it is led; just as noble thoroughbred horses are better guided with a loose rein, so a willing innocence follows clemency with an impulse all its own, and the community thinks it worth preserving for its own good. This is the path on which we make more progress” (1.24.2).

By offering public mercy or clemency, society preserves goodness and remains more stable.

Seneca’s Imagined Argument about Social Media

One of Seneca’s points is that sometimes concealing the full extent of vice preserves social order. If every slave were marked by clothing, the sheer number would unsettle society. Likewise, if every petty crime were punished, people would despair at how lawless things are.

By analogy, when every failing, mistake, or outburst is recorded and broadcast on social media, we face a constant stream of human folly. This flood of exposure makes us cynical, weary, and quick to assume the worst in others. Instead of correcting morals, it erodes trust and hope—just as Seneca feared constant exposure of vice would unravel Rome.

Our overly litigious, hyper-transparent culture of surveillance has helped unravel public morality. We see so much evil, so much disorder, that we assume everyone is like that.

Recently, I spoke to a bus driver who said, “All politicians are corrupt.” That may be, but it struck me as a deeply cynical way to see public service. Yet television, digital news, and social media do seem to confirm his view. It truly does feel like everyone is corrupt.

Daily videos of rudeness, crime, and disorder stir our indignation. Even well-known pastors and leaders sometimes quote-tweet opponents to showcase their offensive words. Yet by dwelling so much on human evil, I fear we begin to imbibe a steady cynicism. We start to assume that “other people” are bad. Perhaps even now we feel less moved to do the right thing, reasoning that if no one else seems to—why should I?

So we grow cruel. We lambast others online. We demand the harshest penalties. But Seneca reminds us:

“Cruelty is the least human sort of evil and unworthy of the gentle mind of man; it’s a bestial sort of madness to take delight in bloody wounds, casting off one’s humanity to assume the character of some woodland creature” (1.25).

And more succinctly, Peter writes: “Love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).

Conclusion

Seneca was right: we need presidents, judges, leaders, ordinary people to exercise clemency. We are too quick to cancel and destroy lives because we lack a public morality that honours the greatness of a clement soul.

Seneca remains valuable not because he had a flawless moral code (he still assumed the rightness of slavery), but because he knew human nature.

There will always be a place for strong rebuke and strict justice. Yet we must still learn this key lesson: cruelty destroys, clemency preserves, and justice must always guide. And as Peter reminds us, “Love covers a multitude of sins.”