Nihilism, Existentialism and Philosophical Depression (essay)
By Luke Labern
This is an essay I wrote for the "British Undergraduate Philosophy Society" but, due to the unfortunate timing of food poisoning, I was unable to polish and send off in time. However, I still feel that this should certainly be in the public domain. So, if you'll excuse the fact that the references don't denote page numbers, this is an original essay on a topic that I believe I am a pioneer in: philosophical depression. Specifically: the road to (through nihilism) and the way out (through existentialism). I hope this is an enjoyable read but, more than that -- is useful.
Nihilism, Existentialism and Philosophical Depression
“. . . [A] philosopher, to deserve our respect, must preach by example.”[1]
-- Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus
Philosophical sincerity
If the above is true, then acceptance of nihilism necessitates detachment from society, a self-imposed isolation and even a philosophical depression – perhaps suicide. By ‘philosophical depression’, I mean that a clinically depressed subject reached that state through philosophising – specifically, through realisation that the nihilistic doctrine is either true or inherently plausible.
Nihilism can take many forms: the meaning can be stripped from any and all fields (ethics, epistemology, metaphysics, etc.). The brand of nihilism that tends to lead to philosophical depression is the most general form of existential nihilism: that there is no meaning of or to life. All human endeavours, if this doctrine is true, are fruitless. All achievements are really inseparable from failure. Good and evil are both empty concepts: they are both nothing. Morality is nothing. Love is nothing. Humanity is nothing. Life is nothing.
The move from answering the question “Is there a meaning of life?” with “No” to depression is not a difficult one. In fact, it seems the only sincere move. If philosophy has any significance whatsoever, then – regardless how shocking, dark or difficult it is to accept the results – if one believes that a thesis is true; this realisation must influence their life. To philosophise and ignore the results is not to philosophise. As Camus, paraphrasing Nietzsche, wrote, the philosopher who ignores their reasoning does not deserve our respect.
Thus, the vital question arises: what is the nihilist to do? What options are open to the nihilist who denies that life has any intrinsic value? In this essay I shall argue that the creation of subjective meaning – even arbitrary meaning – is not only compatible with nihilism, but is what the nihilist who continues to participate in society is tacitly committed to.
The nihilist who continues to live
Camus writes that “the meaning of life is the most important of all questions”.[2] The nihilist’s position can never be composed of formal logical steps: it is a philosophical commitment. It is a perception: the perception of that which is not there. More precisely, it is the perception that all of the objective meaning that humanity has commonly ascribed (to God and morality, for example) is not only mistaken, but hypocritically so. The nihilist believes that it is quite literally obvious that there is no meaning to life. The ramifications of nihilism are far ranging. It is not simply the grand projects that have no meaning. The reason Nietzsche wrote aphorisms is because he realises the arrogance inherent in trying to build an entire schematic philosophy. His aphorisms are like philosophical bullets that tear through the reader’s noetic structure: far from Descartes’ foundational project, the nihilist is highly sceptical. They do not wish to build: they wish to destroy. And this compulsion is all-powerful.
To believe – not in some dispassionate way, but truly, sincerely and thoroughly – that life is meaningless, pragmatically, one must ask oneself the question: why do I continue to live? Camus argues that it is largely due to “habit”:[3] we are used to existing – it would be a burden and a shock to stop. If the nihilist does not commit suicide and continues to live, we may legitimately ask them the question: what are you doing? What is it that you hope to achieve by continuing to exist? The thought here is that by continuing to exist, the nihilist is making some sort of silent statement that life is worth living. But this is a naïve way to think: if life is, strictly speaking, meaningless, that does not mean that dying is somehow meaningful. The nihilist is more than entitled to continue to live (as apathetically as they wish). They have found themselves alive: whether they choose to carry on living or to cease existing, they are forced to make a choice. Even no action is action.
Whilst they are not necessarily stating that life is worth living, I do believe that they are stating certain other things. The difference here is between the generality of existence and the contents of an existence: the nihilist continues to live, but what are they doing with their life? Whether the nihilist decides to write an essay about nihilism, decides to withdraw from society, or decides to dress in black – they are speaking volumes.
Regardless of their philosophical position, the nihilist is still subject to their human nature – biologically speaking. Assuming that the mind and brain are in some way connected, the nihilist will still continue to feel. They will still need to eat, drink and rest. Whilst philosophising can affect many areas of life, it cannot impact on the irrational, unthinking aspects of the human machine. The tension, I believe, is this: the nihilist who continues to exist is forced into two reactions. The first is the clichéd anarchic nihilist who seeks to destroy the structures they find hypocritical. The second way is to respond as Shakespeare’s Hamlet did: through philosophical depression.
I should note that I believe the first method leads very directly to the absurd: the anarchist undoubtedly enjoys their behaviour. Nietzsche writes that nihilism “reaches its maximum of relative strength as a violent force of destruction – as active”.[4] Biologically speaking, it is clear that the release of adrenaline and endorphins will continue to have their effect regardless of the philosophical intent that led to their release. I also believe that the anarchist can be depressed. It is to the nature of this philosophical depression that I shall now turn my attention.
Philosophical depression
The tragedy of nihilism is that the human machine continues to want to live. It acts as if there is a meaning to its existence. Perhaps there is: to pass down the genetic code it carries. But this is not the sort of meaning that we are searching for. The human body is a survival machine, whereas the human consciousness is a feeling entity. We will, we feel, we yearn for meaning, we strive to do what we ought. The moment we realise the stark reality – that these things are not grounded on anything objective – is the moment nihilism takes hold. Camus describes it as being “undermined”.[5] It seizes the mind and the body: darkness ensues.
Philosophical depression is no different from clinical depression: depression is depression. Philosophical depression is, rather, the manner in which clinical depression is arrived at. I am accepting all of the biochemical explanation for depression (serotonin depletion, etc.), but am focusing on the psychosomatic transition from philosophising to suffering.
The nihilist who continues to exist will inevitably become depressed. The tension between what we seem instinctively to seek and believe – indeed, the very philosophical principle that questions are worth asking – and the nihilistic reality of the matter (that there are no answers to the great questions) is quite literally insufferable.
The result is quite literally to ask the question: “To be or not to be?”[6] If we choose the former, for whatever reason, we will be slave to “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”. Our world is one ruled by luck and survival of the fittest – not because of God’s will. What is at stake here is not trivial: as Camus notes, “many people die because they deem life is not worth living”. Perhaps it is the case that those who cannot kill themselves – due to fear, or uncertainty – will, eventually, ruin themselves. Perhaps, in a fit of passion, they will cheat on their lover, quit their job, or commit some heinous crime (as Dostoevsky’s Raskolnikov does in Crime and Punishment): these are all results of nihilism’s powerful repercussions. What nihilism does to the mind cannot be measured: only the sufferer knows in “the silence of [their] heart”.[7]
What else can a passionate and intelligent thinker do but become depressed when the world they live in lies to them? Nietzsche is the prime example: a great mind tortured by its own discoveries. Refusing suicide at first, relishing his own greatness, he could not hold out indefinitely: eventually his mind crumbled under the weight of its discovery. The human mind longs for meaning, but the world will give us none. The question is: is there any hope for the nihilist? Is there any way that the nihilist can salvage something out of their life? I believe that they can.
Existentialism as saviour
Existentialism is not only compatible with nihilism, but it is born out of it. Sartre argued that our “existence precedes [our] essence”.[8] Thus, there is no objective meaning in the world. Sartre does not even believe that there is a human nature: he believes that each man must create their own. What is the difference, then, between the nihilist and the existentialist? I am going to argue that there only the acceptance of authenticity and a passion for life separates the two positions.
The reluctant nihilist may not want to step into this territory of crafting their own subjective meaning. But the gap is incredibly small: all the nihilist has to do is accept that the concept of “value” has some semantic meaning. Perhaps the nihilist wants to refuse: but how can this be done? Clearly the nihilist understands what is meant by the word “value” – how else could they reject the label? Once this is accepted, the nihilist already has one foot in the door of existentialism. The nihilist is more than welcome to reject all objective meaning: so long as the concept of “value” makes sense, the nihilist can craft their own.
The beauty of existentialism is that the meaning a man gives to himself can be as arbitrary as he likes. The meaning one gives to one’s life can be as simple as: write essays about nihilism – or continue to philosophise – or to participate in anarchy. The problem of morality is the one downside to this way of thinking, but the arbitrariness of the legal system goes some way to fix this. With particular reference to philosophical depression, however, the compatibility of nihilism and existentialism becomes not only clear, but persuasive.
The nihilist has continued to live. They have refused suicide, for whatever reason. Though they continue to exist, they find themselves tortured by the incompatibility of their in-built search for meaning and the world’s refusal to give them anything objective. They find themselves depressed through philosophising. The question is: how long can the nihilist continue to exist in this state? Surely not indefinitely. The solution, then, is for the nihilist to craft themselves an existential meaning: to overcome their depression.
In doing so, the nihilist will not become the hypocrite they so despise. They are not searching for some objective meaning, or entering into the mistaken schema of society. They will simply be doing. They will be doing for themselves – making use of their existence. There is nothing in the nihilist doctrine that makes action hypocritical. “Nihilism . . . can be a sign of strength”:[9] so long as the nihilist maintains the ironic distance advocated by Camus, in realising that life is absurd, they can continue both to hold that the nihilistic doctrine is true and, most importantly, continue to live. How else could a nihilist live an authentic existence? How else could a nihilist deserve our respect if not by acting on his nihilism?
The spectrum of subjectivity
Nihilism, existentialism and absurdism are all positions on the same spectrum. The spectrum may well not be linear. But they are certainly connected: all three positions hold that there is no objective meaning of life. Nihilism, in particular, is destructive and sceptical. Philosophical depression is the only sincere outcome. The passionate nihilist may well burn out and commit suicide before realising that to craft their own meaning – as arbitrary, ironical and sceptical as they wish – is not a contradiction. The existential nihilist is merely the nihilist who continues to exist. As soon as the nihilist realises that in accepting that the concept of “value” does, ironically, have a value itself, the nihilist should realise the absurdity of their situation. Absurdism, indeed, is the true remedy to philosophical depression. To realise that there is no objective meaning to life and that any attempt to build a subjective one is entirely arbitrary is to realise the absurdity of existence. To realise the absurdity of existence and to laugh at this fact and live life as passionately as one possibly can – that is nothing short of heroic.
References
[1] Camus, A. (year) The Myth of Sisyphus. Place:publisher.
[2] Nietzsche, F. (year) The Will to Power. Place:publisher.
[3] Shakespeare, W. (year) Hamlet. Place:publisher.
[4] Sartre, J-P. (year) Existentialism & Humanism. Place:publisher.
A Short Story,
Published 28 December 2012
Published 28 December 2012