The case against ~isms (2)
What about Stoicism? Stoicism today is not believed in its classical or metaphysical sense. No one genuinely subscribes to the ancient mystic explanations behind it. Its modern appeal is almost entirely utilitarian: it helps with financial decisions, reduces stress, prevents impulsive reactions, and gives us a cognitive tool to soothe the brain and regulate the neuroendocrine balance. Instead of saying, “I want to avoid excessive cortisol and keep my dopamine steady,” people say, “I am being stoic,” more because it sounds cool. But the underlying principle remains the same.
Determinism is another concept that often underlies or leads to nihilistic or quasi-existentialist thought patterns. Determinism can present itself in two broad ways: retrospectively and prospectively. Retrospectively, people look back on their life, reflect at what they have done, and feel no internal energy, or emotional satisfaction from their achievements. In that state of low reward and chronic stress, deterministic or material explanations of life suddenly appear more appealing. They offer a narrative that conveniently fits the internal emptiness. The truth of determinism cannot be known unless the questions of God, origin, and metaphysics are settled once and for all, which is not the case on any collective scale. So retrospective determinism is simply the mind selecting an explanation that matches its own neurochemical state.
Prospective determinism works differently. Here, a person uses analytical power to conclude, in advance, that life may be deterministic. And even if the philosophical claim happens to be true, it still doesn’t change the neuroendocrine reality. People who believe in determinism still continue their daily routines, still engage in hobbies, relationships, and work, because those activities bring a neuroendocrine equilibrium. Determinism rarely translates into a radical behavioral shift because the philosophical conclusion alone does not generate reward. It does not soothe the brain, or produce dopamine. So even if a person is convinced by determinism, he still behaves as an existentialist, doing the things that keep him functional. The only exceptions are extreme cases, where a person who is already depressed, stressed, or emotionally overloaded adopts determinism in a destructive way, and may even consider extreme acts like suicide. But again, the susceptibility itself, not the philosophy, is what explains the behavior. The philosophy fits the neuroendocrine pattern; it does not cause it.
Nihilism represents the other extreme. To understand nihilism, we must define what “meaning” is. Meaning is usually something that fills the internal void, provides energy, and answers the simple question of why we do what we do. The disciplined life, the moral life, the social life, the ambitious life, all of these are forms of meaning. They emerge from multiple sources for different individuals: religion, philosophy, cultural traditions, moral systems, or the pursuit of utility. Some people find meaning through discipline and achievement, which gives them dopamine through a sense of utility. Others find meaning in romanticism, in an idealized life driven by internal ideals and the superego rather than the material utility. These contradictory pathways fuel the same sense of meaning for different people because they eventually lead to the same end: neuroendocrine equilibrium.
Nihilism, in essence, discards all of these sources. It discards religion by declaring that God is dead. It discards society by calling it repression. It discards morality by saying it is relative. It discards utility through intellectual argument, by insisting that material achievement is shallow. It discards romanticism by asserting that ideals themselves are fabricated. When religion, society, morality, ideals and utility are all rejected, then comes the unbearable void. And that void is exactly what nihilism later tries to inhabit. Nietzsche’s claim that an Übermensch would emerge from this void is essentially a suggestion that a new meaning will eventually be constructed once the old architecture collapses, which is not necessarily true.
But again, we must ask whether nihilism arises prospectively or retrospectively. Most often, people grow up within a society, inherit all its codes, and then deconstruct them. Their philosophical stance is influenced by their surroundings and their internal emotional state. A person in a stable neuroendocrine state is unlikely to become a nihilist. A person in chronic stress, emptiness, or internal conflict is far more likely to adopt nihilism because it fits the internal chemistry. The path a person takes downstream from determinism, whether its existentialist, or nihilist, is therefore not chosen because it is intellectually true; it is chosen because it aligns with the brain’s tendency to seek the neuroendocrine equilibrium.
This is the underlying point, the conclusion, and the assertion. Humans do not pursue stoicism, determinism, nihilism, romanticism, or utilitarianism as doctrines. They pursue neuroendocrine stability, which is therefore the basic drive of human life.
