The Three-Test Framework I Use Before Setting Any Goal
Most goals are designed to fail. Epictetus explained why 2,000 years ago.
I set a goal earlier this year that failed within nine days.
It wasn’t ambitious. It wasn’t complicated. I just wanted to stretch every morning for ten minutes. That’s it. Ten minutes on the floor before coffee.
By day four I was doing it in the evening instead. By day seven I was doing five minutes. By day nine I was doing nothing and feeling vaguely guilty about it.
The self-help explanation would be that I lacked discipline. Or that I needed a better system — a habit tracker, an accountability partner, a reason to do it that was tied to my identity.
The goal was broken from the start. And Epictetus — who was born a slave and somehow became one of the most clear-headed thinkers who ever lived — figured out exactly why.
He gives us three tests.
Test one: Control.
The opening line of the Enchiridion — Epictetus’ handbook — draws a hard line between what’s up to us and what isn’t. Our judgements, choices, and actions are ours. Our body, reputation, property, and status are not.
This blows up most goals people set. “Lose 20 pounds” depends on your body cooperating. “Get promoted” depends on your boss. “Be happier” depends on a feeling you can’t command.
So you convert the outcome into a practice. Not “lose weight” but “move for 30 minutes and eat according to a simple rule I can keep.” Not “get promoted” but “do excellent work and act with integrity.” The outcome becomes a bonus. Not the point.
Test two: Cost.
Epictetus tells a story about someone who wants to win at the Olympics. So do I, by the gods, he says. But then he lists everything Olympic training actually requires — the brutal diet, the injuries, the humiliation, the complete surrender to a coach.
His point: before you sign up for the medal, count what it costs.
If you haven’t written down the three hardest things your goal will demand from you, you don’t have a goal. You have a fantasy. And if you look at that list and think no chance — that’s fine. Pick a different mountain. The shame isn’t in choosing something smaller. It’s in lying to yourself and quitting two weeks in.
Test three: Consistency.
Epictetus calls out people who jump between identities — wrestler one month, gladiator the next, philosopher the month after. With your whole soul, he says, you are nothing.
Every “yes” requires ten “no’s.” If you can’t name what you’re giving up, you haven’t made a real choice.
I made a video that goes deeper on all three — including how to apply them to the goals people set most often and a quick scoring system to test whether yours will actually stick.
And if you want a structured way to put this into daily practice, the 7-Day Stoic Challenge walks you through it: stoicchallenge.co
Go well, Jon