Why It’s Good To Be An Existentialist

I am an existentialist philosopher. For anyone not familiar with this term, it’s a particular mode of thinking, and here’s the nutshell version: If there’s any meaning in the world or in your life, it’s because you put it there. You have the freedom to do so, and you’re responsible for it, as well as how it impacts others. Choosing to do nothing is still a choice, and blaming anything or anyone else for your actions is not cool. There is no end to this process of self-evaluation and reevaluation.

It doesn’t sound like it feels good, does it? I get that. It sounds like an angry kid phase one goes through as an undergrad, whilst hanging out in cafes and shaking one’s fist at the establishment. Thank goodness I never outgrew this phase, because being an existentialist philosopher is one of the key reasons why I still have at least some of my wits about me. It’s a big part of why, even in the messiest of times, I still have a little gas left in the tank. It still works for a lot of folks, and I thought I’d share some of the reasons why.

It’s about d*** time.

Existentialism was built and road-tested during a period of incredible tumult (you know, like in the midst of world wars). It gained its footing at a time when ideals and worldviews were being reevaluated, when institutions and authority were being called into question, and when there was great division between groups of people. Thinkers in this school of thought were prisoners of war, political activists, Nobel Prize decliners, poets, playwrights and novelists. They lived through some of the worst bits of modern history, and still managed to see potential and possibility in humans. One might even say existentialists led the charge (in a good way) toward social change.

Here we are, watching the proverbial brown stuff hit the fan again. If mullets and skinny jeans can make a comeback, then so should something as useful as existentialism.

We’re on our own.

At its core, existentialism is about taking responsibility for one’s self, taking ownership of one’s actions and attitudes. I think it’s safe to summarize the current state of things as such: no one is coming to save us. To the government, I am someone who works and contributes to the economy. To big corporations, I am someone who buys and uses stuff. As far as institutions and infrastructure go, that’s about it. If I’m going to be happy, healthy, safe, and anywhere near fulfilled as a human being, it’s all on me. It sounds bleak, but I’d kind of rather be at the controls, sweating and swearing, than to leave it up to the powers that be and have them screw everything up.

I’m little and pessimistic, but I’m scrappy and stubborn, and I have good ideas. Existentialism not only leaves room for that, but it makes it into a good thing.

It’s not all about me.

I’m incredibly lucky to have resources and privilege enough to (kind of) be in charge of my own destiny, but I fully recognize that others might not be (or at least they’ve been told as much).

Existentialism, in addition to telling individuals to get their own kaka together, also reminds them that imposing limits on others is not only cruel, but just logically stupid. Simone de Beauvoir wrote thousands of pages that spelled out in painstaking detail why being a woman wasn’t reason to assume that someone couldn’t do or be this that or the other thing. The same applies to anyone marginalized, with their freedom to choose diminished. If I take stuff away from someone because they are (fill in the blank with some ridiculous stereotype), I diminish my own freedom too. Same thing if I watch others beat up on someone (remember, “do nothing” is still a choice). If I tell them “Yes you can” and then do what I can to make it happen, then I reaffirm my own freedom.

Existentialism isn’t a “you do you” kind of freedom. It’s more of a “With great freedom comes great responsibility” situation. Every choice I freely make, even if it doesn’t directly impact those around me, serves as a model. I’m not an island, and as frustrated as I am with the world at the moment, I take a bit of solace knowing that when I try to do the right thing, it might matter at least a little bit.

Any existentialist will tell you that being in the world with others is hard. One of them even described it as “hell” (thanks Mr. Sartre). We have to coexist with roughly 8 billion other humans, most of whom don’t give a rat’s behind about us, who would just as soon sell us for sandwiches as lend us a hand. Even in the midst of being flipped off, ignored and generally disrespected, it’s still my job to think of how my existence, my choices, ripple out into the world. Human interaction is nothing like an episode of Barney, but it’s work that has to be done.

Life is still good.

Every heard of Sisyphus, that poor sap stuck rolling a boulder up hill every day, for ever and ever and ever? Well, Camus, another funky existentialist, challenged us to try and imagine Sisyphus happy, giant rock and all. I guess it’s kind of like that thing our grandmothers used to tell us about making your own fun. That boulder isn’t going to push itself uphill, and our happiness, our fun, our sense of purpose aren’t going to make themselves either.

Being an existentialist has taught me that difficult does not equal impossible. Even in the midst of all this crap, I can still have joy, connection, and meaning. It’s not going to be what I thought it was, and it’s not going to be easy. The boulder is never going away, and I’m going to have to deal with it every single day. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m going to have to recognize that my boulder is probably smaller and more mobile than those of many others, that the hill up which I’m pushing it might not be as steep as some. It’s my responsibility to not only take care of my own rock, but also try and clear the way a little for others too, even if it’s only as a cheerleader.

And Finally….

I’m not looking to convert anyone. Peer pressure really isn’t on brand for an existentialist. There is no one magical way to put out the many dumpster fires of the 21st century, and these are weird and awful times we’re living through right now. But being an existentialist has kept many a poor soul moving forward when it felt like there wasn’t anywhere to go. It’s there if you need it, and it is most definitely on brand for an existentialist to say “help yourself.”