Stoicism vs Existentialism on the Meaning of Life

Here's a short essay I wrote for a one-page essay competition on the meaning of life. I was a dumbass and didn't read the rules properly. The rules were one page double-spaced. Mine was one page single spaced which I figured out only after I'd submitted it. Anyway, I've posted it here so it doesn't die a sad death somewhere on my hard-drive.

Existentialism vs Stoicism on the Meaning of Life

Both the existentials and the Stoics purport to provide answers to the meaning of life. Whatever that answer is, both agree that wealth, fame, career, power, graduate degrees, and other ‘externals’ have no value. They disagree, however, with respect to the reasons for externals’ non-value. And the reasons for non-value differ because the existentials and the Stoics fundamentally interpret questions about the meaning of life differently.

For existentialists the question principally concerns life’s significance. What makes life significant? Creating value and meaning. Life and the world we are thrust into are normatively barren; they contain no ready-made meanings or values. As luck would have it, human beings have the capacity to create both meaning and value through deliberate choice and action. The meaning of life and everything in it is the meaning you construct for it—the meaning you choose for it. And so, the answer to the meaning of life is for each individual to introspect and to create their own meaning and values through choice and action. Importantly, meaning and value are inherently subjective since they unfold from the private consciousness of each. Hence, externals have no value unless we choose to impart it upon them in how we structure them into our life projects.

The Stoics understand the question as asking how we can live well. The Stoic answer: By joyfully accepting of the world as it is. Contemplating the meaning of life is understood as assessing what sorts of things reliably achieve this Stoic aim. Unlike with existentialism, both the goal and path—virtuous living—are objective: they apply to everyone.

The Stoics observed that the world is full of unhappy people with wealth, successful careers, fame, and graduate degrees, etc…Externals have no value because of their merely contingent causal relation to cheerful acceptance. Worse still, since the causes of externals’ presence or absence ultimately lie outside of the causal power of our will, incorporating them into our life projects risks not only failure but necessarily undermines joyful living: If you insist on pursuing externals "of necessity you must be envious, jealous, and suspicious of those who can take away those things and plot against those who have that which is valued by you.” Externals have no value because they reliably undermine the meaning of life; i.e., joyfully accepting the world as it is.

So we know what not to pursue, now what? If we seek a life of significance, our projects must in some way conform with our internal reflections on our current and idealized selves. Meaning requires that what we do connects to our considered values and interests. Subjectivity matters for significance. Point existentialists. However, the Stoic arguments support objective constraints on what sorts of ends we ought and ought not to pursue if we want to also live well. Finally, the probability of realizing and sustaining a meaningful project falls without developing the objective virtues of courage, wisdom, self-control, and—more controversially—justice. Point Stoics.

Emotion, Desire, and Life Choices

If you don't get it, read on...

For this post I'm taking off my academic philosopher hat to gloss over fine distinctions I might otherwise make. I want to do philosophy for las masas. Wherever I use 'emotion' in this entry, don't think of it in a technical sense. I just mean any of drive, passion, emotion, strong motivating desire, and so on. The context throughout should make it clear. 

Emotions activate the imagination and enable us to see a world where we commit ourselves to embracing the spirit of that emotion in perpetuity. Let me give you an example. When I took my first philosophy class ever, I fell in love with the content. But I didn't see myself as ever being a philosopher or teaching. 

It was my second professor that opened my imagination to a career in philosophy. We've all experienced such moments and it's nearly impossible to put into words. That moment where you're utterly filled with awe and passion for something. When it hits, it hits hard. You see your entire life vividly unfolding along that new path as though it were actually happening. 

I was just a second year student. But I saw myself in the classroom teaching philosophy. I saw my students--both fascinated and perplexed by philosophy. I saw myself as I saw my professor: wise, kind, and patient. I saw myself fulfilled everyday. I saw the possibility. I saw a possible world. I felt what it was like to live there. I was there. 

In the context of important decisions, this is the value of emotion: It shows us our possible lives in a way a spreadsheet never could. But those lives only remain possible to the extent that we nurture the original emotion and sense of awe that first opened the window to them. 

(Note: I'm using positive emotions to illustrate but negative emotions have just as much value in the same respect: Negative emotions can show us what worlds to avoid and why. They show us what worlds await as the consequence of certain choices. I'll stay with positive emotions for simplicity.)

Let's go back to the familiar Sartrian tale of the young student who, during the German occupation of France, must decide between joining the French Resistance to avenge his brother's death or staying with his mother who lost both her husband to treason and her only other child to the Germans. How does he decide what to do? Make a spreadsheet of the 'pluses' and 'minuses' multiplied by their respective probabilities then weigh the outcomes against each other? Suppose, instead we tell him to look into heart. What do you feel? Is it the love for your mother or is it the thirst for revenge?

The respective feelings give him insight into the world he'll inhabit when he choses according to one or the other. 

If the thirst for revenge overwhelms but he stays with his mother, he'll resent her and they'll both be unhappy. He is estranged from the world he wants to inhabit. If his love for his mother overwhelms but he leaves seeking revenge, he'll be miserable thinking of his poor mother on her own. Again, he finds himself alienated from the world he desires. He must act according to, not against his emotion. 

Is that it? you ask. Is this is the culmination of hundreds of hours of studying philosophy? The bullshit platitude "Just do what you feel, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan"? I could have spent $2, 000.00 on a special weekend with some new age self-help guru hack and learned the same thing without having to actually read anything. Why are you making me read? Just give me the answers! Stop making me work! ...

No, that's not it. 

For an emotion to have lasting value as a decision-maker it must continue to be nourished--not merely in thought but in action. The possible world into which it first gives a glimpse must be manifested through action. Otherwise, the emotion--that world's progenitor--wilts along with it.

To repeat: the emotion lets us see what is possible. But that possible world closes when it lingers only in the imagination. We are left standing in a barren landscape drained of passion. The path leading back to the original fork, unrecognizable and concealed. To say that an emotion guided us rightly we must live according to that emotion.

And so the relationship status between decisions, emotions, possibility, and guidance reads "it's complicated". An emotion guides my decision by revealing the possible. The possible becomes real and is sustained through action in accordance with the original emotion. I say I was rightly guided when I live according to the original emotion and embrace that world I construct in its spirit. 

The emotion, however, doesn't sustain itself. I must sustain it through actions characteristic of it. I must build that possible world as it was revealed to me. And as the possible becomes manifest I choose to sustain the original emotion--and hence my commitment to the world I'm constructing. 

Or I respond with a new emotion, one that reveals new future possibilities and the new forks they bring. 

There is no guarantee my future self will feel what I feel now about the world constructed in my current emotion's name. It's a matter of probability. I can't know beforehand. To speak plainly, be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. And so, emotions, as I have been speaking of them, ought not on their own be appealed to. This much seems obvious. They are valuable in that they give us the best available insight into what a decision in one direction could be like. Our choices are presented to us in a way a spreadsheet never could. But then we are faced with the impossible task of knowing whether our desire for a possible world will be sustained once it is manifest.

This may appear an insurmountable task and will no doubt be a probabilistic affair. But probabilistic isn't the same as random. All of us have some sense of what sorts of things have enduring value. If an emotion encourages us to a world devoid of such values perhaps it's a world we ought not to construct...although in some cases it might be fun for while! (See: Ami's pre grad school life) Indefinitely honoring an emotion that sustains one such world is a mistake but feeling otherwise once we are there is a good thing. Our new emotions show us a way out...or at least tell us to get out. And hopefully we learned a thing or two while we were there. That counts for something. Right? 

Doing What Feels Right and Sartre's Existentialism

Introduction
Existentialism can be summarized in one phrase, "existence precedes essence." But what does this mean? Pre-existentialism, philosophical systems presumed Man had an essence. To understand what that means consider a chair. Chairs don't just randomly pop into existence...no sir!  Before they are created someone or something has to have a concept of what a chair is (i.e., something for sitting), then the chair is created in conformity with the concept. The essence of a chair is that for which it is designed--which is sitting, if you didn't know.

Notice two things: (a) having an essence, in the sense I've described, implies a creator and (b) that the creation's essence is determined before it comes into existence. And so, artifacts--things like chairs, computers, cars, iphones, etc--all have creators and have an essence/nature/purpose before they come into existence.

Let's return to "existence precedes essence." For existentialists, human beings are unlike artifacts in that we exist before we have an essence/nature. We are not designed and so there is no predetermined essence that defines who or what we are. Who/what we are comes after we exist. We are thrust into the world and create ourselves through the actions we choose. This is what "existence precedes essence" means: first we exist, then we will acquire a nature (though our acts).  If I do harmful acts and act selfishly, then this is what I am. If I create and share, then this becomes my nature. There is no predetermined nature beyond what I actually choose to do. Again, contrast this with artifacts: first they have a nature/essence/purpose then they are brought into the world.

For existentialists, the human condition is (a) understanding that we are free to choose our own essence (through our actions) and (b) figuring out how we ought to create ourselves given we have no intrinsic nature. Another way of thinking about this is to say that we are responsible for who we are.

Radical Freedom and Responsibility
Although we have no common nature among us we all share the same conditions: We are "condemned" to be free thus we have to make choices about how to live and 'be'. There is nothing objective in the world to grab to guide us in our choices. Every choice is exactly that--our choice. And because every action is a consequence of our own choice, we bear absolute responsibility for it. Pretending you don't have a choice is what Sartre calls "bad faith". Bad faith is lying to yourself about the reality of your radical freedom. Even when you act in bad faith you cannot escape responsibility for your choices which define who you are. It was your choice to lie to yourself.

The existential condition is that there are no objective values to guide our decisions and no one but our selves to decide which values we adopt. Now some might say that we can turn to religion or authorites to guide us. There are a few problems with this. First, you are shirking your responsibility as a free being for decisions. By deferring to an outside source for your decisions your are denying your responsibility to choose for yourself.

One might say that choosing to follow this or that text or leader is a choice--and it is. But this doesn't allow you to escape the subjectivity of the human condition:  how you choose to interpret the various texts and advice will also be a matter of your own choice. There's no external source you can lean on to tell you how to interpret. You cannot escape the subjectivity of your existence and so you still must bear the responsibility of choosing one interpretation over another.

Furthermore, your essence is nothing more that the sum of the things that you choose to do. And if trying to deny your radical freedom and offload responsibility are part of your actions, then you are a coward. Anguish, for the existentialist, in part comes from knowing that he bears full responsibility for what he does and who he is and that this responsibility is inescapable.

Moral Choice
If there are no objective values in the world, it seems like anything goes. Again, just like with any other choice, the ethics that you choose define your essence. If you choose and act on a selfish ethic, then that's what you are and you are responsible for everything that comes from it.

But, in a sense, our actions aren't completely unconstrained. Here's where we exit subjectivity. Every choice that I make not only defines who I am but also defines the essence of Man as a whole because I am a part of that whole. This demands that I consider the consequences of my choices on what will be the nature of Man.

For every man, everything happens as if all mankind had its eyes fixed on him and were guiding itself by what he does. And every man ought to say to himself "Am I really the kind of man who has the right to act in such a way that humanity might guide itself by my actions? (Existentialism)

I am responsible, through my choices, for how Man is defined for my time in history because I am a part of Man.

But this is vague. How do I decide what to do in specific cases? Unfortunately, general moral principles can't tell us how to decide particular cases. Sartre give the following case:

[The young man's] father was on bad terms with his mother, and, moreover, was inclined to be a collaborationist; his older brother had been killed in the German offensive of 1940, and the young man, with somewhat immature but generous feelings, wanted to avenge him. His mother lived alone with him, very much upset by the half-treason of her husband and the death of her older son; the boy was her only consolation. The boy was faced with the choice of leaving for England and joining the Free French Forces--that is, leaving his mother behind or remaining with his mother and helping her to carry on.
He was fully aware that the woman lived only for him and that his going off--and perhaps his death--would plunge her into despair. He was also aware that every act that he did for his mother's sake was a sure thing, in the sense that it was helping her to carry on, whereas every effort he made toward going off and fighting was an uncertain move which might run aground and prove completely useless; for example, on his way to England he might, while passing through Spain, be detained indefinitely in a Spanish camp; he might reach England or Algiers and be stuck in an office at a desk job. As a result, he was faced with two very different kinds of action: one, concrete, immediate, but concerning only one individual; the other concerned an incomparably vaster group, a national collectivity, but for that very reason was dubious, and might be interrupted en route. And, at the same time, he was wavering between two kinds of ethics.
On the one hand, an ethics of sympathy, of personal devotion; on the other, a broader ethics, but one whose efficacy was more dubious. He had to choose between the two. Who could help him choose? Christian doctrine? No. Christian doctrine says, "Be charitable, love your neighbor, take the more rugged path, etc., etc." But which is the more rugged path? Whom should he love as a brother? The fighting man or his mother? Which does the greater good, the vague act of fighting in a group, or the concrete one of helping a particular human being to go on living? Who can decide a priori? Nobody. No book of ethics can tell him. The Kantian ethics says, "Never treat any person as a means, but as an end." Very well, if I stay with my mother, I'll treat her as an end and not as a means; but by virtue of this very fact, I'm running the risk of treating the people around me who are fighting, as means; and, conversely, if I go to join those who are fighting, I'll be treating them as an end, and, by doing that, I run the risk of treating my mother as a means. (Existentialism)

And so a general ethical principle can't help us decide specific cases. And besides, even if we do choose a general ethical principle, there is no guide to tell us which to choose as either a general guide of action or for particular cases. We also have to make that choice and we bear responsibility for it and accept that it now defines us in so far as we act on it.

Sartre and Emotions
General ethical principles can't tell me what to do in particular cases. Maybe I ought to do what feels right to me. If the young man feels that his love for his mother is great enough to sacrifice his other desires, then he should do that. But if the feeling of love for his mother isn't enough to make him give up everything else, then he ought to leave.

But how will he know that he loves his mother enough to give up everything else unless he actually does it? To know that his feeling leads him to the right choice he has to live that choice. He has to see how it plays out. He might try it and find out that the desire to avenge his brother overwhelms him and he's unhappy staying behind and so the feeling misguided him. But he can't know this before he lives it. The feeling can't tell him in advance what to do.

Consider another case that many can relate to. How do you know if marrying someone will be the right choice? Consulting your feelings before you're married can't tell you. You'll only know if it's the right choice if you actually do it. If it turns out well, it was the right choice. If it turns out poorly, it wasn't. The feeling can't tell you what's going to happen and so can't tell you in advance what the right thing to do is. Besides, if feelings were a good guide to marriage, we'd expect the divorce rate to be substantially lower.

It Isn't All Doom and Gloom
So, we are hurled into the world, condemned to be free with no fixed points to guide us in how we ought to live, yet we are somehow responsible for everything we do and are. This is the existential forlornness and anguish.  Forlorn because we cannot turn to anyone to make decisions for us and anguish because of the tremendous responsibility that comes with creating both our own essence and that of Man.

But chin up, butter cup! The good news is that existentialism is a philosophy of action. You might not have any guides but you get to create yourself--with every choice. Bonus, if you didn't like where things were going, you can reinvent yourself at any moment, if you so choose.

There is no reality except in action. Man is nothing else but his plan; he exists only to the extent that he fulfills himself; he is therefore nothing else than the ensemble of his acts, nothing else than his plan. (Existentialism)

Before you go skipping off into the sunset, existentialism is a demanding philosophy if you take it seriously. In creating yourself and defining Man, with every act you are saying "this is what I think all mankind ought to be--follow me!" When taken seriously, that is a massive responsibility to bear (hence, all the angst).

It also means that there is nothing that exists that is not expressed in action. There are no great authors with unwritten great books, no charitable people with kind deeds undone, no great loves who have not loved.  "Reality alone counts and [...] dreams, expectations, and hopes warrant no more than to define a man as a disappointed dream, miscarried hopes, as vain expectations" (Existentialism).  In other words, coulda woulda shoulda is worthless. At the end of the day, what matters is what you did with your life and whether it was an example for others to follow.