Bringing you the goods…

This is taking long. Something’s wrong.

top of page

Why Reason Cannot Justify Life

Writer: Hareesh S
Hareesh S
Aug 31
10 min read

I hate to start this newsletter with a novice writing trope, using a philosophical-sounding quote from some long-gone writer, but alas, this time I have to. I'll just insert it here now, unprompted. Nonchalantly.


"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide."


Bam! How was that? The landing was great, the only issue is that following a quote from Albert Camus is a little harder than I thought. This often-repeated line kicks off Camus' essay, The Myth of Sisyphus, written in 1942. The piece reinterprets the ancient story of the Greek king Sisyphus, who repeatedly tries to outsmart the gods, occasionally getting the best of them. Eventually, as a punishment for his deceit, he is sent to the underworld, where he is tasked with pushing a massive boulder up a hill, only for the boulder to roll back down magically every time he nears the top. But prior to Camus' interpretation of this story, Sisyphus was viewed as a warning against arrogance and heedless human cleverness. Camus, however, shifts the focus away from Sisyphus' actions, instead pointing attention towards the nature of his punishment, likening his ceaseless effort to push the boulder up the mountain to humanity's endless search for meaning in a universe that continuously responds indifferently. He argues that even though Sisyphus is condemned to this fate forever, if he becomes conscious of this and refuses to be defeated by it, we must imagine him to be happy. This, to Camus, is the foundation of the question of suicide. Once the older systems of meaning-making, primarily religious and traditional cultural institutions, are questioned, the most urgent philosophical problem that remains is whether life is worth living in the face of meaninglessness.


But this question regarding the preservation of human life is one that our species has wrestled with since our brains evolved to process modern cognitive self-awareness, somewhere between 50,000 and 100,000 years ago. This era is known as the Upper Paleolithic period, but I vote that we start calling it the "What the fuck is going on, who am I?" period. It was during the WTFIGOWAI that humans began to think abstractly, develop complex language, and form concepts of the individual self. Prior to this period, had Apple released its smartphone, it would have just been called the Phone, for our brains had not yet developed the ability to turn their awareness back onto themselves. The "I" was yet to be conceived.


The first written records of existential contemplation are found in an ancient Egyptian poem written nearly 4,000 years ago in the Middle Kingdom. The "Dispute Between Man and His Ba" depicts a despairing person plagued by misery, societal corruption, and betrayal, regretting his existence and longing for death as a release from suffering. Throughout the poem, he is engaged in a dialogue with his Ba (soul), who attempts to dissuade him from ending his life, reminding him that he still has duties to fulfil in his life and that, if he does end his life, the promised afterlife would be uncertain. The poem concludes with a compromise. The Ba agrees that his suffering is heavy, and the man agrees to face life and eventually transition to death together. A beautiful and tragic ending.


Though he, like Sisyphus, finds a way to continue pushing his boulder up the hill the burden of continuing in the face of suffering, with no promise of a better tomorrow, is the tragic thread that ties these two stories together. But this tragedy seems to be quintessential to the human experience. No amount of wealth, power, or fame can shield a person permanently from the suffering that awaits them. But then what? What is one meant to do in the face of this inevitable hardship?


If this were a play, this would be where the religious gurus, cultural pundits, and eager businessmen would enter the frame, each with their own answer to this dilemma. The religious folk would tell you that their God rewards life and procreation, while the cultural pundits would talk about duty and obligation to a nation, community, or caste. Whoever still straggles behind looking for meaning would be preyed on by the eager businessmen who will tell you at every opportunity that their magical product will make your existence uniquely worthwhile.


But to embody this conversation into an example, let's take a made-up person and call him Miraj (named after one of my best friends). In this hypothetical world, Miraj is brought up in a religious household where they believe that if a person pays careful attention to God's words, they will be rewarded eternally. In addition, his family has been teachers for generations, so they believe that it is deeply embedded in their genes and familial practices that their children must also grow up to be teachers to carry forward their proud family name. In his free time, he is a devout Knicks fan. He surrounds himself with people who spend their every evening keeping close track of the basketball team's every movement and game, so that they can bring the championship back to the City one day.


But recently, Miraj goes on an early-morning hike with his dog, and his mind wanders about how Jalen Brunson is a singular win away from (in his opinion) the greatest championship run of all time. As he becomes more entranced by his daydream, he trips and falls. He wakes up dazed but realizes soon that a question sneakily entered his mind.


Why does any of this matter? Who cares if the Knicks win? What if I don't grow up and become a teacher? What if my God doesn't exist, and my afterlife isn't promised? Then what? If everything I thought that made my life matter isn't true, then where do I go from here? He decides in that moment that he will spend the rest of the year trying to find an answer. He searches every nook and cranny, talking to every person he can find, asking them what makes their life meaningful.


On one of these adventures, Miraj arrives at a prestigious school in the mountains of a distant land. The school has been around for decades, and some of the brightest minds in the region go there. He thought that schools, as primary sources of nourishment for the children of tomorrow, must have a profound answer to this question of meaning. Why else would they pour so many resources into educating the youth if they didn't think existence itself was worth it?


He enters the principal's office and excitedly asks her for the answer. "Why do you educate your students?"


To which the principal responds, "Well, we believe in offering the highest form of education to as many students as possible. We prepare them to go into the world to be outstanding citizens who are responsible, hard-working, intelligent, and caring. A good education expands what a child is capable of becoming, and our mission is to provide this type of education in an accessible way to as many students as possible."


Miraj, expecting this answer as he had heard it from countless others, asks, "Well, if you don't mind my prodding, why do those things matter?"


"Because education helps a person live a fuller life. A student who can think clearly and choose freely is less likely to be trapped by poverty, manipulation, ignorance, or fear. They are more capable of giving back to their family, community, and larger society. We want our students to live lives filled with agency, knowledge, and connection."


"But why are agency, knowledge, and connection good?"


"Well, if we take agency, for example, it is good because without it, a person is merely acted upon by the world. They are pushed around by forces they do not understand. Education allows them to become active participants in their own lives. They become the ones in control."


"But why is it better to control and shape your own life than to simply accept and endure it?"


"Because it allows a person to live with dignity."


"But why does dignity matter?"


"Dignity matters because every person has worth. A child is not just a future worker or a future citizen. A child is a human being, and human beings deserve the chance to develop themselves and to understand their own lives."


"But why does a human being have worth?"


For the first time, the principal does not answer immediately. "Because they just do," she finally says. "Because if we do not begin there, then everything else collapses. If a child does not matter, then their education does not matter. If their life has no worth, then their freedom, dignity, safety, curiosity, and future do not matter either. At some point, Miraj, we have to begin with the belief that a life is worth protecting."


"But can you prove that?"


"No," she says. "But I can show you what follows when we believe it. I can show you the kind of school it creates, the kind of society it protects, and the kind of child it allows to grow. But I cannot prove the worth of life without already assuming that life is the kind of thing whose worth matters."


"So, in your school, education begins with an assumption that you can't prove? That life is inherently worthy for some reason?"


"Yes."


And cut scene. Thank you, Miraj, for your contribution. I really needed this favor. But this scene that just took place isn't fictional. You can find it everywhere you look. Take anyone in your life. It doesn't matter who. Focus on any decision they have chosen throughout their lives. From here, start the endless task of asking why. Broken record. Why, why, why, why, why? No matter how many justifications they may have, eventually, they are led to the original question of why life is important in and of itself. Here, each person will eventually lean upon certain assumptions they have about why life is important. Some of these examples are:


Conscious experience is worth preserving.

The possibility of joy justifies endurance.

Life matters because it affects other lives.

Love creates an obligation to continue.

The unknown is worth reaching.

The search for truth is inherently worth it.

Existence is the necessary condition for all value.


These statements are axioms. An axiom is a statement accepted as a starting point within a system of reasoning, rather than proven by that system. Axioms are essential because reason cannot begin from nothing. Every system of reasoning needs some original starting point. It is from here that the rest of the system is built. If I say that education matters because it helps children live good lives, I have already assumed that a good life matters. If I say that justice matters because people deserve fairness, I have already assumed that fairness is valuable. If I say that suffering should be reduced, I have already assumed that suffering is the kind of thing that should not be ignored. Reason can help me move from one claim to the next, but it cannot begin the movement by itself. It needs something to stand on first.


This is why the first starting point is impossible to question. If you question a later belief, you can usually explain it by appealing to an earlier one. But if you question the very first belief, there is nothing beneath it that can justify it in the same way. It cannot be justified through the same process of reasoning that is used to understand later statements, because it is that very condition that makes those later statements possible. At the bottom of every argument, there is some claim, value, or assumption that is not proven by the system it supports. This is where the system begins.


These axioms can be found in every reasoning system around us. A legal system might begin from the assumption that every person has rights, that people are innocent until proven guilty, or that punishment must be justified. A culture may begin from the belief that individual freedom matters most, or that tradition deserves respect, or that equality should guide public life. In science, researchers usually begin from the assumption that the world is orderly enough to study, that evidence matters, and that experiments can reveal reliable patterns. In every case, the axiom is the starting point that allows the field to build on itself.


But if an axiom cannot be proven, does that mean that the entire system is built on a lie? No. Unproven does not mean false. An axiom is not proven by the system it supports. But this does not make it a lie. It just means it functions as a starting point. However, it is important to note that not all axioms are the same. They have to meet certain standards. I'm attaching links about axiom systems theory at the end, in case you want to research more.


But the way I think about axioms, roughly speaking, is that they are like the rules of a game. You choose certain starting assumptions and then ask what follows if we accept these. Trying to prove an axiom will always fall short, but this isn't a failure of the axiom. It's a shortcoming of reasoning itself. There is no self-closed reasoning system. Reason can explain why particular actions matter only after some value has already been accepted. But reason cannot, by itself, prove the original value. Therefore, in our context, reason does not fail to justify life because life is meaningless. Reason fails because it cannot prove the value from which all meaning begins.


To better depict this process, I put this diagram together. A side note, I like Canva a lot.

Article content

If we start at the top with the red box, we take an action. Just because I'm really hungry right now, and these words only feed an existential hunger, let's take choosing what breakfast to eat. A person might choose cereal or eggs and have a list of reasons for why they pick one over the other. Preferences, cultural practices, or dietary restrictions. But if we keep asking why, we eventually land on the axioms. And we can't go deeper from here. The leap of faith that is taken is what moves us from the existential question of what makes life worthy to our axioms. I hope you like the stars I put in the background of the existential box.


Perhaps at a time when so many people feel like life is meaningless, I want to present that perhaps the failing isn't with life, but with reason. In part three of this exploration, which will be released next week, I will explore the different ways we can move through this possibility. I want to explore the people who are masters at existing without a reasoned-through meaning: children. I hope you enjoy!


 
 
 

Comments


Untitled design (3).png
bottom of page