I’ve spent a lot of time trying to improve the quality of The Strong Stoic. Recently, I realized I wasn’t entirely sure what I meant by “quality.”

Better cameras. Better audio. Tighter editing. These things can improve an episode—but what might they leave behind?

In this open solo reflection, I explore the tension between polish and authenticity, the difference between communicating efficiently and letting an idea carry weight, and how improving our craft can leave us fixated on things our audience barely notices.

There’s an uncomfortable question on either side: am I calling it authenticity because I don’t want to do the work? Or am I chasing high standards because I’m afraid of being seen thinking?

Before we try to make something better, we should be honest about what we’re trying to improve—and what we’re willing to sacrifice.

What does a champion learn when someone else’s growth becomes the priority?

Spencer Moorman is a five-time national weightlifting champion, former US national team athlete, and the coach behind Iron Hex. He began lifting at eight years old under his father’s guidance and went on to train at California Strength. Today, he brings that experience to coaching athletes, including young Canadian lifting standout Rory van Ulft.

I joined Spencer at his home in Ottawa to explore the transition from competitor to coach—and the judgment it takes to know when to push, when to hold someone back, and when to step back yourself.

We discuss why technical knowledge isn’t enough to coach well, how a coach must evolve alongside the athlete, and whether strength training builds character or reveals it.

What stayed with me was Spencer’s thoughtfulness. There’s a real competitive intensity to him, alongside kindness and a deep appreciation for the people and experiences that shaped him.

A conversation about strength, identity, gratitude, and helping others become stronger—in every sense of the word.

Before serving in Vietnam, Jim MacKay entered a Franciscan monastery at seventeen. Across those very different paths, his desire to help people remained.

I joined Jim at his home in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, to talk about brotherhood, fear, rescuing wounded men, responsibility, and what he wishes people understood about those who return from war.

What struck me most was his kindness. I went to hear about his life and left feeling like I’d made a friend.

I encourage you to watch the video version if you can. Jim’s expressions and the quiet moments add something that’s hard to capture in audio alone.

Watch the full conversation:
https://youtu.be/0H8mLsb5AmI

Coming soon: a tour of Jim’s home, including his medals, photographs, and memories, plus a bonus conversation with a Vietnamese woman about Vietnam and Vietnamese culture for paid Substack subscribers.

We like to believe that difficulty inevitably makes us stronger. Sometimes it does. But some chapters simply ask us to survive with whatever pieces of ourselves we can protect.

Through the life of Marcus Aurelius, this episode explores the limits of turning suffering into growth, the difference between acceptance and passivity, and why philosophy can help us carry what we cannot fix.

You don’t have to turn every tragedy into a lesson. You don’t have to be grateful for every scar. Sometimes making it through without losing all of yourself is enough.

Nobody starts as a master.

When we see someone who is strong, skilled, or exceptionally good at what they do, we see the finished product. We don’t see all the years they spent being bad at it.

Recently, after more than six years of podcasting, I found myself spending an hour and a half learning a basic audio-editing skill I probably should have learned years ago. I had no idea what I was doing.

And maybe that’s exactly the point.

If you want to become good at something, you need enough humility to be bad at it first. You need to make mistakes, look foolish, and occasionally admit that you have no idea what you’re doing.

In this episode, I talk about mastery, ego, being a beginner again, and why sometimes we just need to take ourselves a little less seriously.

JP Primeau is a strength coach, former university football player, and Olympic weightlifting coach in Nova Scotia.

But this conversation isn't really about lifting.

It's about what happens when the identity you've spent years building begins to change.

JP and I talk about his transition from football into Olympic weightlifting and eventually coaching, what it feels like to go from being good at something to becoming a beginner again, and the difficult process of accepting that some of our ambitions may not turn out the way we imagined.

That leads us into a question I've been thinking about more and more: when does perseverance become stubbornness?

Stoicism teaches us to work with the obstacles life puts in front of us. But wisdom also requires us to ask whether we're pursuing the right obstacle in the first place. Sometimes continuing is courageous. Sometimes walking away is.

JP offers a useful rule for those decisions: don't make them only on your worst days. Make sure you still feel that way on a good one.

Later, we turn toward coaching and leadership—why technical knowledge isn't enough, what it means to listen to what someone isn't saying, and why a good coach has to respond to the actual human being standing in front of them rather than blindly following the program.

Near the end, JP summarizes much of the conversation in five words:

“It's a skill to give a shit.”

A conversation about strength, identity, perseverance, coaching, listening, and learning to genuinely care about the people we're responsible for.

Find JP Primeau:
Instagram: @CoachPrimo
Coaching: Primo Weightlifting Club
Based at KAOS CrossFit in Bayers Lake, Nova Scotia

JP coaches the Primo Weightlifting Club with team training on Thursdays and Saturdays.

The Strong Stoic: strongstoic.substack.com

Jocko Willink’s philosophy of Extreme Ownership teaches leaders to take responsibility for everything that affects their mission. If something goes wrong, don’t make excuses. Own it and fix it.

It is a powerful leadership doctrine—but is everything that happens truly your fault?

In Episode 433, I examine Extreme Ownership through a Stoic lens. We explore why the philosophy works, how it restores agency, and why ownership builds trust. We also consider where it becomes incomplete by confusing fault, responsibility, influence, and control.

The Stoic correction is not to abandon ownership. It is to become more precise about what we own:

Our judgments. Our choices. Our preparation. Our conduct. Our response.

You may not control the outcome, but you remain responsible for what you do next.

What if you worked hard at something for years and nobody noticed? Would the work still be worth doing?

I've been wrestling with that question lately as I've become more focused on views, analytics, and growing The Strong Stoic.

There's nothing wrong with wanting success, recognition, or influence. The danger begins when being noticed becomes the reason we do the work.

Marcus Aurelius reminds us that doing the good thing is already the reward. And much of what makes a good life happens without applause anyway.

Train. Build. Lead. Keep your promises. Improve your craft. Chase success.

But every once in a while, remove the audience and ask yourself:

Would I still be proud of the person doing the work?