Why Do We Persist?

When we think about what keeps us going, what causes us to persevere, what compels us to persist, what comes to mind? This is perhaps a moot question, and one that invites too much speculation with a less than lucrative return for consideration. After all, a lexicological library of cliches exist reminding us that the answer to such questions is meaningless in the face of cold reality. Worse yet, delving too far into that conundrum might cause inclined people to consider the alternative to perseverance, an option not worth pondering for a sensible thinker. It has always been the lot of everyday folk, to continue striving, building, and persisting for whatever reason, or for no reason at all. A dismal proposition, but is it reasonable to search for an alternative?

For generations, humankind looked beyond the material world for a reason to live. Despite the example set by nature, it was not enough for man to progenerate for the sake of it. At the risk of stressing an already overused term, humans had to have meaning in their lives. Perhaps life was not just a depressing effluvium in the careless fog of time; if there was some eternal consequence for our being, we could reason that we must keep going to better our celestial standing. This idea is so integral to our development as a species that we can hardly discuss human society without heavy acknowledgment of that most ancient of institutions: religion. An allegorical one-stop-shop for all of those things that make humans distinct from animals, religion by necessity must answer those deepest of questions. Sometimes those answers come with equally deep explanations, other times they come with threats of fire and brimstone, but however they are delivered, religion can provide that reason to persist we all seem to need. Why do we go on living? Because life is a gift from God and it is not ours to refuse. Why do we better ourselves and our communities? Because our bodies are created in the image of God and temples to our eternal souls, and our communities are made up of fellow children of God, to be loved the way he loved us. As for that ever elusive meaning of life, it is to love the lord and seek to do his will. It does not matter the situation, those two axioms can always be followed, and can always give meaning to whatever life.

At some point, though, the growing power of humanity and the logarithmic expansion of mankind’s knowledge came at odds with the mystical trappings of religion. Gradually, we as a society have become disenchanted, so to speak, with the supernatural, unable to accept that which cannot be fully explained or observed. In the course of scientific discovery, no one ever found a God in the cosmos, thus, he must not exist at all. The consequences of this idea have been expounded on at length, and the tremors of this as-yet unfinished shifting are still rocking the world today. The search for meaning continues, but without the sureness of faith and the wisdom of God.

Perhaps meaning can be found in one’s very being. Is not the phenomenon of existence meaningful enough? We can look back on a storied history of societal, cultural, and technological development that has only gotten faster in our times. Just to be a part of that journey might be profound enough to see us through. However, looking at that storied history from another angle might make all of it feel completely bereft of meaning. Society has developed into a cold, heartless meta-community that alienates and castigates at its capricious whims. Culture has developed into an amoral, relativist nightmare where meaning is whatever feels right at the time, with no accounting for even material futures. Finally, technology has provided wonders beyond reckoning, but we use it to pursue all manner of dalliance and vice, and worst of all, to end life with extreme prejudice and efficiency. No, there is no meaning inherent in human progress.

If the above prognosis is in fact true, then how much worse is the problem of perseverance through absolute futility in the face war and tyranny? Even if meaning can be found in pursuing happiness, we can hardly stay happy in a world ready to erupt and steal it all away. Why toil and sew if the fruits of our labors will be stolen away by a tyrant or utterly sundered by wars and famine. There is nothing we can do about these near cosmic forces, exerting power over our lives with all the brazen surety of a god. It’s all stacked against us, and trying only makes the failure more painful. The rich stay rich, and those in power never get their just deserts in the 21st century.

My last article discussed the “black pill” trend online in as much as it relates to government and voting. But those that have studied philosophy to even an elementary degree will recognize the cultural moniker as merely the awful specter of nihilism in another form. Characterized as a “belief in nothing” to some, nihilism is better understood as a philosophy devoid of meaning, a belief that principles, morals, even societies of any sort are worthless because nothing can provide any real fulfilment. Life is suffering, and there is no reason for it, so why strive for anything at all? Even if the modern nihilist bemoans a life without meaning, he is unwilling to even consider what a meaningful existence might look like, much less rise up and seek that meaning out. He persists, perhaps, because he fears death more than emptiness, or perhaps because of vain hope that meaning will find him. Either reason ends the some way, with another life breathed worthlessly into the winds of time.

If we ignore the nihilists, divorce ourselves from the meta-culture, and focus on family and friends, we might just find meaning in each other. This could be the most relevant reason to persevere, because it has the least to do with ourselves. Work is done to support the ones you care for, and you better yourself to facilitate a more meaningful life for someone else, whatever that means. Those of us that have ever loved someone will know the obligations that are inherent in the relationship. When love is given and returned, the two people now live for eachother, and maybe that elusive meaning can be found in that love. Then again, love dies, marriages fail, and even those you love can hurt you and crush your meaningful status quo. The dismal returns of the titular question are manifesting in the worst ways possible now. Humanity has no meaning, we cannot love ourselves, and we cannot count on love from others. The question “why” is now a bitter, horrifying vision of the true suffering of nothingness.

What is the answer, then? Perhaps it is different for everyone, and maybe that is better for all of us. If someone finds meaning in their work, art, or studies, then that might be enough for them. If someone finds meaning in the love of their family or a significant other, then only a bitter fool could chide them for it. At its most cynical, the answer could even be carnal pleasures for some, though the case against such philosophies is thorough and convincing. There is a reason that religion is so old, and it is because this question of purpose and meaning is as ancient as thought itself. It is likely we will never find the definitive answers to these questions, and each individual will have to reason with the problem of meaning for themselves. How great a gift we forsook, in our hubris, when we rejected the higher purpose of God, choosing instead to wander, bewildered, and find nothing but bitter compromise and venerable catechism without response.