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T. K.'s avatar
Apr 3Edited

Our civilization runs on extraordinary abstractions that hide rather ordinary facts: our species, on the whole, prefers belief to knowledge because we suffer less from what we feel than from what we know. Pointing out the gap between abstractions and actual problems, the nihilist, from least "optimistic" to most, is declared the enemy of every civilization with the same certainty of true believers who ennoble themselves as its saviors. If you explain to a drowning man that he cannot be saved by the mere idea of a boat, no matter how much he may believe in it, he will blame the nihilist rather than himself or the boat. Every parent wishes, in this way, to keep their children from nihilistic drowning. Every generation, in this way, teaches the next to become more ignorant of themselves, more ignorant of reality, although they are tragically aware that this will only entail more cycles, over many more centuries, of belief and disbelief, illusion and disillusion, invention and reinvention, as human nature cannot change.

When the pressure comes, if it does come, do you change? Or do you learn how to explain why you didn't? What I know alters how I feel: therefore, everything I do is moral, until I discover it to be immoral, in retrospect, and adjust.

Exactly this life-long practice cannot be taught, imitated or sustained by any brand of faddish optimism, and there is absolutely no reason to assume this is nihilism's fault. Nihilism doesn't offer a lifestyle, nor does it offer a one-and-done philosophy: in its most undiluted form, nihilism is an unplanned, unanticipated event; a moment when what one knows ceases to sit quietly in the mind and begins to interfere with what one does. Knowledge ceases to be a "safe space" and begins to cut. Sometimes, deeply enough to rewire feeling and force action where there was none.

This event either happens, or it doesn't. The nihilist interrogates reality until it penetrates and changes him, or it doesn't. That potential break into action is where nihilism exists and it is the only meaningful form of nihilism in existence. Most people just never encounter it: they inherit values, perform them convincingly, defend them when challenged, and remain unchanged at the core. The fake system functions, the fake person functions, and reality never reaches them. Nothing new grows under the sun, because nothing compels them, because nothing requires them to look at reality long enough to change who they are -- and if reality doesn't change who they are, nothing else will.

Neither the sure knowledge of harm nor self-harm will deter a significant percentage of people from the pursuit of their own happiness. The vast majority of people are both self-indulgent and self-destructive, drifting towards what feels good even as it hurts them, trapped in cycles of short-term, self-centered thinking. Political leaders manipulate them to behave as if they cared for the poor, as if they reflected deeply on the long-term goals and interests of society, as if they cared for other people -- for all mankind, even. Leadership stages the false appearance of virtue, producing outcomes that contradict it, and this is the gap, and once the gap between virtue and reality grows wide enough, the same people can convince themselves, with the same mask of virtue, that increasing beef production is civilization's most urgent need, right up to the moment their civilization expires. They will even be courageous in fighting for the future of that illusion, rather than being paralyzed, in the present, rehearsing moral questions that will prepare them to be moral persons ahead of the next unplanned event.

We increasingly cultivate abstract virtues in response to the herd, to maintain our place within it, while neglecting the problems outside it that we're supposed to pay attention to -- and the tragedy is this: not everyone is capable of applied curiosity in real-world situations. Curiosity can't be learned or made into a rule and enforced. It can only be discovered; it can only emerge for each person out of a process of uncertainty and doubt, or it doesn't -- and there is no reason, again, to lay the blame for this deficit at nihilism's feet. Lack of curiosity is not a failure of nihilism; it is a failure of preparation that falls on every parent, leader, and serious educator. To then treat this blindness by reasserting the necessity of meaning, within the same structure that collapsed it, is to manage the symptoms rather than confront the condition. The question shifts from fact to function, from what is real to what keeps a person from drowning in too much of what's real. The question shifts from what your alternative escapes to what it simply refines: whether it is anything other than a more disciplined illusion, a more elegant cage within a cage, or a more faithful practice of looking away. While the instinct to protect -- indeed, "save" -- people from drowning is understandable, it's also an evasion, a shortcut to the idea of a boat, without naming it as such, that may buffer against sustained exposure to the ocean's waves, while the illusory belief remains: sturdier, guarded, and accepted out of the same compulsive, herd-like mentality that quietly sustains the illusion that first spread the nihilistic "disease" among the crew.

Would you raise a child without inherited meaning? Or do you administer small doses of illusion early on, knowing they'll have to detox again and again? If it's "copium" all the way down, and if the poison is sweet enough, then, like every addict, you'll have to convince yourself that it's manageable and fine for them to keep swallowing it. After all, you were able to quit before the fatal hit, right?

How many poisoned years have you consumed?

Ethical action is only possible if there is a powerful alignment between what we know and what we feel, and this relationship is not something every human is capable of. Even if someone is capable of it intermittently or occasionally, we should not assume they're capable of it constantly or frequently. We should not assume morality is universal: if what we know cannot change how we feel, we are as incapable of ethics as the sperm cells racing towards the egg, and have as little morality as the bombs dropping from our planes. It is endlessly tempting for the average vegan to say, "if only you knew the cruelty that produced this cheese and that steak, you could not possibly enjoy eating it", as if the taste would turn to ashes in your mouth. Not a single person I know is for animal cruelty, yet every person I know refuses to adopt a plant-based diet. The truth is that I know it, and feel it, while billions can know the same facts without a corresponding change in feeling. I cannot be moral for someone else, just as I cannot be nihilistic for someone else, and even if I manage to share some of my nihilism, I will still be unable to share all of my morality.

You wrongly assume that, without shared values, we drift into apathy, despair and isolation, when the actual collapse of meaning isn't caused by its absence, but by this missing link between feeling and doing -- the widespread symptoms of which are now as unmistakable as the withdrawal tremors of any long-fed addiction: the shakes of a system coming off its most psychoactive and hallucinogenic lies. When you remove inherited illusions from a person trained to depend on them, trained to never think without them, trained to believe in more and more, as opposed to less and less, they break, of course, because they did nothing to earn and test receiving meaning. The danger of replacing one ism with another doesn't vanish when one rejects "optimistic" nihilism, but mutates when one enthrones a diluted version of it as the only alternative. Both moves become refuges for a certain temperament, each flattering a different kind of fear: one avoids commitment via conspicuous hedonism, the other fetishizes the life of the mind. Neither concerns itself with the deeper rift. The danger is not that life lacks inherent meaning, but that most humans aren't built to function without borrowing it or outsourcing it. You invoke Nietzsche, but Nietzsche never promised liberation when he was reduced to, "create your own meaning and be happy". Nietzsche warned, more bluntly, that, "you may not survive the absence of it. Therefore, amor fati." Skipping the abyss is not an option, but neither do you patch it over with comforting narratives that, while useful, have proven fundamentally dishonest again and again. The subsequent vertigo seems philosophical.

It isn't.

Cont'd in comment 👇🏻:

Anatol Wegner, PhD's avatar

"What is the meaning of human life, or of organic life altogether? To answer this question at all implies a religion. Is there any sense then, you ask, in putting it? I answer, the man who regards his own life and that of his fellow-creatures as meaningless is not merely unfortunate but almost

disqualified for life." -Albert Einstein

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