The case against ~isms (1)
P1, ESSAY III: The case against ~isms
Another pattern of behavior which needs to be addressed is that of the hedonists, and the natural question encountered here is that of ethics. Where do ethics fit into this model especially when its contradictory to immediate reward-seeking? To answer that, we have to step into the domain of morals and ask what morals entail in contemporary thought. In religion, the answer is simple: morality is a command, and the debate ends there. However, when we step outside religious frameworks, morality splinters into several competing explanations.
The first, represented by Nietzsche and later by Foucault, views morality as a social tool of repression, an architecture imposed by society to regulate behavior and maintain power structures. A second school counters this by grounding morals in evolutionary and cultural advantage. Here, ethical codes survive because they confer long-term stability and group benefit. Certain behaviors reduce internal conflict, increase cooperation, and therefore persist because groups that adopt them outcompete groups that do not. Morality is therefore a large-scale survival mechanism. So, the contradiction with hedonism arises from scale: hedonism maximizes short-term biochemical gain, while evolutionary ethics maximizes long-term group viability.
The third position comes from Freud and Jung. Freud’s model also hints at morality being a process of repression where the superego punishes the ego with guilt and anxiety when id-driven desires violate internalized ideals. Jung’s model is directed more inwards: the ego represses the shadow, not necessarily because the desires are socially illicit, but because they threaten the ego’s coherence and self-image. However, for Jung, the roots of morality may lie in archetypes, which essentially are patterns of pursuits inherited across generations. These archetypes appear in myth, religion, and dreams, but there is no scientific proof for this collective unconscious. The closest modern parallel is evolutionary neuropsychology: stable neural modules, preserved by selection, that generate patterned moral intuitions.
Across all these explanations, one observation stands out: moral frameworks appear to be at least partially influenced by personal experience given philosophical positions don’t necessarily arise in a vacuum. Nietzsche’s nihilism can be partially understood through the lens of his personal trauma, chronic illness, and psychological isolation. The philosophical rejection of external morality therefore could be a defense mechanism, a cognitive architecture designed to soothe internal conflict and provide an anchor. If we notice, even here, the binding principle remains the same: the mind is organizing itself around the avoidance of excessive cortisol and the preservation of some workable dopamine balance. The central drive may not necessarily be the pursuit of abstract truth; it is the pursuit of a neuroendocrine equilibrium that permits psychological survival.
This brings us back to addicts and hedonists. When addicts articulate philosophies of pleasure, it is almost always retrospective, not prospective. They do not begin with a biochemical or philosophical theory and then build a lifestyle around it. They experiment, get hooked, and then rationalize backward, selecting theories that justify their established pattern. Hedonism works similarly. People do not usually pre-commit to a philosophy of pleasure; they find themselves repeatedly drawn to certain behaviors and then later assemble a worldview that supports them.
So, what do we say to the addict who insists he is simply following the central drive of life but continues to devastate himself? The answer is practical: cognitive restructuring requires a reset in the dopaminergic system. CBT helps, but severe addiction often needs detoxification and intensive programs, not for moral reasons, but to desensitize the dopaminergic pathways enough for the frontal cortex to regain evaluative capacity. Without restoring this balance, frameworks to reframe pursuits cannot be processed because the architecture is too biased to compute alternatives.
The same principle applies to hedonism. If hedonistic behavior does not inflict harm, there is no inherent reason for society to intervene. A person may pursue dopamine and self-interest freely. But when harm spills outward and destabilizes others, societal laws counterbalance that impact. Laws exist not because they embody higher truth, but because they regulate the neuroendocrine pursuits of a group in a way that prevents collective collapse. Personal losses (financial, emotional, or physical) can also serve as natural correctives. Pain slows the mind, forces recalibration, and teaches the brain to incorporate ethics for better outcomes in the long run. But this understanding only emerges after the loss.
Interesting, the arguments we are giving addicts and hedonists revolve around utility and long-term benefit. We tell them they will lose more dopamine in the long run by indulging in destructive short bursts now. On the surface, this sounds utilitarian, but we are not endorsing utilitarianism. Humans do not pursue philosophical ‘~isms’ in their daily pursuits. We pursue neuroendocrine stability, whatever configuration of thought, behavior, or narrative keeps dopamine steady and cortisol manageable. This can be provided by any combination of ‘~isms’. What appears outwardly as utilitarian reasoning, moral reasoning, hedonistic reasoning, or psychological reasoning is simply cognition choosing whichever narrative best preserves equilibrium. All “isms” are therefore post-hoc linguistic wrappers. Beneath them lies a single biological constant: the pursuit of dopamine balance, the avoidance of excessive cortisol, and an internal architecture stable enough to support the mind without collapse. This is not hedonism. It is not utilitarianism. It is not nihilism or Freudian repression. It is the biological denominator beneath them all.
(To be continued)
