Life Has No Meaning... And That’s Where Life Begins

Meaning. It’s probably the buzzword of  the century. Everyone is talking about it,  

and it seems that everyone wants it. When I think of meaning, I think of  

something that gets me out of bed in  the morning; something to live for;  

something that has more significance than  the usual jazz, you know, sleeping, eating,  

watching TV, scrolling on my phone, and exchanging  my time and labor for money to pay the bills.  

It should be something that transcends  all that and makes life worth living.  

But what is ‘meaning’ exactly? What does  it look like? Does it come in a package?  

Do you learn it at school? Can you find it in  romance or friendship? Or in a book perhaps?  

The overall vagueness of the concept ‘meaning’  is probably one of the reasons why people are  

struggling to find it. And many do struggle, so it  seems to me. There’s a whole industry catering to  

people who want to escape their meaningless  lives, be it in the form of psychologists,  

life coaches, authors, gurus, and, I  guess, content creators like myself.  

Meaninglessness is a somewhat ironic byproduct of  a civilization that is richer than ever before,  

with unprecedented options and social mobility.  You’d expect that with so many things to do,  

so many doors to enter, activities to choose  from, finding meaning would be easy?  

I guess that’s not how it  works, as meaninglessness  

and nihilism are so common nowadays. So, how do we find meaning? Do we have  

to look for meaning or create it ourselves? And  do we even need meaning to live happy lives?  

Many philosophers were concerned with the meaning  of life. The existentialists, in particular,  

left us with some interesting ideas about meaning  and purpose, which can be very helpful.  

In this guide, I’d like to briefly explore the  ideas of these philosophers, see how they can help  

us, modern humans, and share my own thoughts on  this subject and how I approach it in my life.  

My name is Stefan. This is not an AI voice; I’m  a real person. I just wanted to make that clear.  

Apparently, there are even AI channels out  there that have cloned my voice for narrating  

their (I suppose) AI-generated scripts. It’s  annoying and flattering at the same time.  

I hope you’ll enjoy this video. And  don’t forget to follow me on Substack  

to stay updated about all my work. 

A lot of people, particularly in the West, 

experience a lack of meaning and purpose in  their lives. Some actively search for it,  

while others escape their sense of meaninglessness  by indulging in easy pleasure and distraction.  

Before we go on, let’s start with a solid  definition of meaning. What does meaning mean?  

When looking for a definition of this word, a  multitude of options appear. Relevant to this  

essay, specifically in the context of the ‘meaning  of life’, I found two definitions by Oxford  

Languages that are quite fitting, which describe  meaning as an “important or worthwhile quality”  

and “implied or explicit significance.” So, let’s just go with these definitions.  

Simply put, our meaning of life should  be something worthwhile and significant.  

It should mean something. Well, I  guess this is still pretty vague,  

as we don’t really know what this ‘worthwhile’  and ‘significant’ thing is all about.  

Questions that immediately come to my mind  are: What makes something worthwhile and  

significant? Are there any criteria for it? Is  ‘meaning’ something determined by an outside  

force? Or does it come from within? Do we find  meaning? Or can we create it ourselves?  

Several notable philosophical ideas attempt  to answer these questions and, thus,  

address the problem of meaninglessness.  But before we dive into these ideas,  

let’s briefly explore where this very notion  of modern-day meaninglessness comes from.  

I think it’s helpful because it shows the reasons  we struggle and may help us on the way out. But  

feel free to skip it if you want to go directly  to the more practical sections of this essay.  

Now, how did we arrive in this mess? What’s  the reason so many people experience emptiness  

and a lack of purpose and, sometimes,  feel that life isn’t worthwhile?  

Years ago, I had a conversation about  nihilism with a Muslim, who told me that,  

by embracing and practicing his faith, he  didn’t experience meaninglessness at all.  

His faith basically solved the problem. And I  couldn’t do anything but agree with him. When it  

comes to the human desire for meaning, religion  is pretty much a life hack. Embrace it, make it  

the center of your existence, and the problem  of meaninglessness pretty much dissipates.  

But many people in the West, especially in secular  societies, do not find religion a very appealing  

form of meaning in life. As I’m from a secular  environment myself, being born and raised in the  

Netherlands, in a family where religion played  virtually no role, I know a thing or two about  

what a lack of religion and, let’s call it  ‘spiritual faith’, can do to one’s life.  

On the one hand, as a secular person, you  are blessed with a certain freedom. There’s  

no religious authority telling you how to  live, which, after decades of Christianity  

and the church ruling many areas of life, can  be very liberating. However, on the other hand,  

not having an overarching, traditional structure,  such as Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism, can also  

have negative consequences for one’s life. Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche was very  

concerned with the decline of religion,  which he referred to with his iconic phrase:  

“God is dead.” As you may know, he wasn’t a fan  of Christianity; he found it a religion based on  

so-called ‘slave morality’. But he did recognize  the role of Christianity in people’s lives.  

Nietzsche saw that Christianity offers something  fundamental. It gives people this enormous  

narrative about where we’re coming from, why  we’re here, what our purpose here on Earth is,  

and why we suffer. It also provides a moral  structure: a roadmap to a better life on Earth  

and in the afterlife. Christian values also  affect how we treat each other. Instead of  

the law of the strongest, ideas such as equality,  compassion, humility, and forgiveness can really  

transform and stabilize a society, making it a  safe and harmonious place for the majority.  

Now, imagine such a system  declining. What will happen?  

This is what Nietzsche feared. He was afraid  that without Christianity, people wouldn’t  

know what to do anymore. People would struggle  with deciding what’s good and evil, morals would  

erode without any decent replacements, grand  ideals and goals would disappear, and life  

would seem meaningless. His fear? Nihilism. Nihilism is the belief that life is meaningless  

and that all values are baseless. There’s no  moral truth, no inherent purpose. In practice,  

Nietzsche believed that people would  live a flat, meaningless existence,  

settling for comfort, safety, and superficial  pleasure. Someone leading such an existence,  

he called a “Last Man.” He wrote: The earth has become small, and on it hops  

the Last Man, who makes everything small.  His species is ineradicable as the flea;  

the Last Man lives longest. “We have discovered  happiness” – say the Last Men, and they blink.  

End quote. Now, if you’re like me, you’d feel  

that most Western or Westernized societies have  pretty much evolved into what Nietzsche predicted.  

Most people seem to choose comfort above all. The default position regarding living in today’s  

consumerist society is just going through  the motions: the Sunday evening dread,  

driving to the plant the next morning,  doing one’s duty as a cog in the machine,  

and counting the hours before the weekend,  all spent in a weird mixture of complacency  

and escapism, disguised as happiness. Nietzsche proposed a cure, or rather,  

an invitation to overcome such meaninglessness:  the overman or Übermensch, who dares to break  

free from the system and create his own  values. Check my video about Nietzsche’s  

Übermensch if you want to know more. Let’s consider the idea of freedom from  

systems that dictate how we live. Here’s where  the existentialists come in. Individual freedom  

is what they’re all about. They sought to  confront the problem of meaninglessness  

without relying on external systems like religion,  tradition, or ideology to give life purpose.  

If we consider the purpose of our lives,  we could look at it in two ways.  

We could see purpose as inherent: we’re  born for or with a specific purpose. Thus,  

the meaning of our lives is already fixed.  We see such views on purpose in religion:  

one’s purpose is to serve God, one’s purpose  is to follow God’s command, and so forth.  

But we could also view purpose as extrinsic:  we enter this world without a purpose,  

as there is no inherent purpose to our existence.  But we can create our own purpose later.  

The existentialists follow the second view of  purpose, as they argue that “existence precedes  

essence,” a phrase coined by existentialist  philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre. So, we exist first,  

then we can give an ‘essence’ to our lives. So, how can we acquire this essence? How can we,  

somehow, find or create something worthwhile  and significant enough to live for?  

It starts with acknowledging our freedom. I  know it’s frightening. Freedom means that we  

can do anything we want, within the confines  of the external world, that is. Maybe I sound  

like Captain Obvious here, but I suspect that  many people don’t truly understand and realize  

how free they are. Speaking for myself, I  often tend to forget my radical freedom.  

Let’s do a thought experiment. Suppose you’re not in prison. You’re sitting  

behind your computer or TV, or perhaps you’re  lying in bed or on the couch with your phone,  

or you’re walking on the streets or sitting  in a train or bus. Given you have some money  

in your bank account, you could get a  ride to the airport, fly to the Arctic,  

buy a little boat and a tent, and live the rest  of your life with the penguins. There are many  

reasons why this path is not recommended,  but you could, right now. And that’s the  

point. It’s just a reminder of how free we are. In all those cases, you are free to go to your  

kitchen, get a knife from the drawer, and go  outside and stab a bunch of people. By the way,  

this is not advice, of course, it’s  just a reminder of how free we are.  

In the same way, you could quit your job today,  you could end your relationship, get a divorce,  

move to another country, ask your crush out, take  a crap in the middle of the supermarket, and even  

become a Patreon supporter if you like my work.  You can do all those things, right now, today.  

Yet, many people are so stuck in their ways,  so stuck in the system; it’s as if they cannot  

see their freedom. Or… could it be that they  don’t want to see it? Could it be that they  

fear it so much and therefore reject it? Hence, embracing freedom is essential here.  

Embracing freedom means you embrace the fact  that you always have a choice and must bear  

the consequences of that choice. Sartre  was huge on this, saying that choosing  

not to do something is also choosing. Suppose you’re working a dead-end job,  

but you’ve always wanted to become a science  fiction writer. As long as you’ve got access to  

a computer, typewriter, or even a pen and paper,  you can become a science fiction writer right now.  

Because (at least from an existentialist  viewpoint) actions define who you are:  

you become a writer by writing. And, most  likely, that’s really just a matter of choice.  

Still, many people never dare to choose, which  reminds me of a scene from the movie Fight Club,  

where Tyler Durden meets a guy named Raymond  K. Hessel, who works in a convenience store.  

Holding a gun to his head, Tyler finds an expired  college ID in his wallet, and asks him what he  

wanted to be. Raymond actually wanted to be a  veterinarian, but says that “too much school” is  

required to get there. “Would you rather be dead?”  Tyler asks, who then goes on to threaten him,  

saying that if he’s not on his way to becoming a  veterinarian within six weeks, he will be dead.  

Yes, it’s a pretty unconventional way of  motivating someone, but Tyler is showing him  

that where there’s a will, there is a way. How to find meaning according to Sartre? By  

embracing your radical freedom, consciously  choosing who you want to be, and taking full  

responsibility for those choices. And  you can do that by devoting yourself  

to projects that truly matter to you. If you want to learn more about Sartre’s  

existentialism, by the way, I made a  whole video about it, so check it out.  

Jean-Paul Sartre had a partner in both philosophy  and life, although these things seemed one and  

the same for this couple. Her name was Simone de  Beauvoir, a significant figure in existentialism.  

Fun fact: I named my cat after her. Simone de  Beauvoir (the philosopher, not my cat) had some  

interesting things to say about the pursuit of  meaning in an inherently meaningless universe.  

In the previous section, we explored  the importance of embracing freedom and  

responsibility for one’s choices. So,  what if you refuse to do this? In her  

book Ethics of Ambiguity, Simone de Beauvoir  introduces an interesting archetype, namely,  

the sub-man or subhuman, which is  the ungendered version of it.  

The sub-man doesn’t like freedom. He also  hates choice. He’s passive and reactive,  

led by circumstances and the people  around him. He doesn’t consciously take  

a position in life or stand for something.  He prefers not to choose, but, by doing so,  

he quite paradoxically chooses nonetheless. The sub-man doesn’t want to see the ambiguity of  

life, which is that we are both constrained  and free. We’re dealing with facticity,  

which is the circumstances, the facts about  our existence, including our limitations,  

that we didn’t choose. But we’re also free,  outside of these facts and constraints.  

Facticity is the domain of the sub-man.  As he doesn’t acknowledge his freedom,  

he’s stuck in what’s given. He lets circumstances  decide his life and remains stuck in his habits,  

unwilling to accept that he could change.  Everything is fate. He is who he is,  

and any hopes he once had have long since faded.  The mantra of the sub-man? “It’s over.”  

Beauvoir urges us not to be like the sub-man.  Don’t let your circumstances and constraints  

define who you are, including culturally  defined gender roles. There may be things  

holding you back, sure, but you still have this  vast freedom of movement; a giant playing field  

in which you have infinite possibilities! So, we could lament on and on about our past,  

our looks, our height, our socio-economic  status, and how others have it so much  

easier than we do. But what’s the point? Such  an attitude won’t improve anything. Instead,  

we should focus on the freedom we have and  transcend our facticity by taking control  

and shaping our lives in the areas we can. Now that’s empowering, isn’t it? I think it’s  

good to maintain one’s focus on freedom rather  than facticity, because that’s where growth is  

to be found and, most likely, also where we  can find a deeper sense of fulfillment.  

Like Sartre, Beauvoir also suggests  creating meaning by engaging in projects,  

and doing so makes our freedom concrete. But  she emphasized that our projects should also  

enhance the freedom of others. She believed  that freedom does not exist in a vacuum: the  

freedom of the self requires the freedom of the  other. “No project can be defined except by its  

interference with other projects,” she argued. If your project contributes to limiting the  

restriction of others, for example, by supporting  an oppressive regime, it’s not authentic in terms  

of freedom. And she goes as far as to say that  your projects must actively seek to help those who  

aren’t free. If not, you’re being complicit. Now, there’s another approach to the inherent  

meaninglessness of existence.  Let’s take a look.  

Trying to create or find meaning in a project,  shape our own lives, and transcend our facticity  

sounds really great and all… but what if that  doesn’t cut it? What if we, despite our efforts,  

still experience this nagging truth of the  inherent meaninglessness of it all? What’s the  

point of doing all that stuff when, in the end,  it doesn’t matter? Seriously, what’s the point?  

For some people, this kind of thinking leads  to despair. Because no matter how hard we try,  

at the end of the day, aren’t we still  an utterly forsaken bunch of primates  

stuck on a floating rock, somewhere in an  unbelievably vast universe, ignorant of why  

we’re here and what we’re supposed to do? Absurdist philosopher Albert Camus, therefore,  

found the apparent mismatch between our  desire for meaning in the face of a silent,  

indifferent universe to be absurd. But rather than trying to replace the  

Absurd with fabricated meaning, Camus tells us  to lean into it and live in full awareness of  

it. According to him, we should rebel against the  Absurd: accept that life has no inherent meaning,  

recognize the futility of searching for  it or creating it… and live anyway.  

So, why not live it fully as if every  day is the last day of our lives? If  

nothing means anything anyway, why not embrace  everything that makes life vivid and real?  

Go to the beach, have a cup of coffee,  make that trip you always wanted to make,  

ask your crush on a date, divorce that narcissist,  shave your head, rebel against injustice,  

give money to the homeless, sit in  silence, and enjoy the game on TV.  

Whatever you do, go all the way; not because  it matters in some cosmic sense, but because  

this moment, this choice, this experience  is all there is. It’s real and enough.  

Although I love the existentialist  approach by Sartre and Beauvoir,  

the ideas of Camus also resonate with me. (I’ve  created some in-depth videos about his philosophy,  

by the way, if you’re interested.) In the next part, I’d like to share  

what I make of this all when it comes to my own  life. I’d like to give you a practical approach,  

and end with some final thoughts  about the idea of ‘meaning’ itself.  

The existentialist philosophers have surely  influenced my life. I have fully embraced the  

idea that ‘existence precedes essence’. I create  my own purpose in life, as I’m free to do so,  

and I’m also responsible for my choices, and I  take the well-being of others into account.  

I’m also a fan of engaging in projects that  feel meaningful to me. Doing so gives me  

a sense of fulfillment and a reason  to get out of bed in the morning.  

Around two years ago, I worked at a coworking  space for a couple of months in my own town. On  

a Monday morning, I entered the building with  a smile. A guy who also worked for himself,  

just like me, asked why I was so cheerful. “I don’t know,” I replied. “I guess  

I’m just cheerful right now.” He looked at me as if he saw water  

burning. “But it’s not the weekend anymore. Do  you actually look forward to working then?”  

I instantly recalled that sentiment  from my previous regular jobs,  

where many of the employees, myself included,  were affected by the Monday blues. After all,  

it’s Monday, which is supposed to be  miserable because you have to go to work  

again after a weekend that was way too short. I thought for a little while and replied. “Yes,  

I actually do look forward to working today.” And so, I realized that there was an essential  

difference between that guy and me:  I actually liked what I was doing.  

Even though I wasn’t sure which direction to take  my channel recently and also had a burnout, work  

is still pretty interesting to me. I usually don’t  dread workdays. And my work feels meaningful.  

Sure, not everyone can have work that gives them  so much fulfillment; most people still work jobs  

they don’t like just to pay the bills. But meaning  doesn’t have to be one’s job. It could easily be  

an activity outside one’s work, something  that makes life fulfilling, and the dreaded  

9-to-5 that facilitates it is worthwhile. Of course, if there’s a possibility to do work you  

deem meaningful, take it. For me, I’d rather keep  doing my creative activities full-time as long as  

I can pay the bills than do a job I dread, even if  it offers a much higher salary. I’d rather live in  

a cheap apartment and spend my time on what truly  matters than take a high-paying job and sacrifice  

what I love just to upgrade my lifestyle. Money is still a thing, though. We need it  

to survive. I’ve been struggling with finding  an attitude toward money that works for me.  

Focusing too much on money pushes me into bad  faith: I’m no longer doing it for its own sake,  

but merely as a means to an end. Making money  for the sake of money isn’t really a purpose,  

is it? It’s more akin to greed. And greed,  I believe, stems from fear: a fear of not  

having enough, a fear of being diminished.  It’s understandable, but, in my opinion,  

not a guideline I’d like to follow. Not making money at all doesn’t work  

for me either. If I don’t pay the bills, get  evicted from my home, and can’t buy groceries,  

how can I possibly sustain this channel, for  example? I cannot make content while living  

under a bridge without a cent in my pocket. So, a middle way between a sort of practical  

facticity (thus, my requirement of meeting  practical needs paid for with money) and  

purpose seems the best approach for me. Money  is a means to sustain a life doing what I love,  

which automatically means that this life should  also, in some form or another, generate income.  

So, it’s pretty simple. I find  purpose in things I enjoy doing  

and that give me a sense of fulfillment,  while also being able to pay my bills.  

But this isn’t the whole story.  Even though I think meaning matters,  

I also believe that this supposed human desire for  meaning is a bit overblown. I’ll tell you why.  

What I like about Camus is that he accepts the  futility of searching for inherent meaning. Life  

has none, so why waste time looking for it?  Instead, we should rebel against the Absurd;  

live despite it, and enjoy life anyway. Although I agree with Camus’s idea of the Absurd,  

I think there’s a different way to approach  it. Meaning, no matter how profound it  

seems, it remains a human construct. It’s an  idea, and its content is subject to change.  

We can experience something as our purpose right  now, but we can also stop doing so. No matter how  

tightly we cling to our purpose, there may come  a day when it simply stops resonating with us,  

like a childhood toy we once loved but eventually  outgrew. Whatever I draw up for myself today, I  

might feel totally different about it tomorrow. Sure, some people may hold on to their purpose  

their whole lives. But meaning is not a fixed  monolithic thing. It’s something we create,  

or project onto something we decide is important.  It’s because we crave a story for our lives;  

a scheme to justify our existence. “I’m a parent, put on this Earth  

to raise the next generation.” “I’m an artist and I exist to create beauty.”  

“I’m a man, therefore I’m here  to protect and provide.”  

I’m not saying these things have  no significance. But to what extent  

do we need such stories to legitimize  our lives? Let alone cling to them?  

There have been plenty of moments in my life when  I didn’t even think about meaning. I didn’t need  

it, I didn’t miss it. These were the moments when  I was fully immersed in whatever I was doing,  

whether it was listening to music, walking,  having a nice meal, or simply enjoying the  

fact that my fridge and freezer are full of food,  after I put away the groceries. There were even  

whole periods I was just enjoying life… having  fun, without a lack of meaning gnawing at me.  

So, this desire for meaning seems to be a bit  like a desire for companionship when alone;  

when it pops up, it’s fierce and cuts  deep, but very often it’s absent.  

Life without meaning isn’t necessarily  nihilistic. For a nihilist, meaning, or rather,  

the lack of it, remains a central concern. But  when the question of meaning doesn’t arise,  

a meaningless life can be pretty delightful.  There’s no suffering meaninglessness because  

the whole notion of meaning isn’t there. Sure, my projects are important to me. But I  

try not to get too attached. What are  they, after all, but mere responses  

to a desire so fleeting and unstable that  taking it too seriously would be silly?  

And maybe, one day, my desire for meaning will  fade altogether. Perhaps that will be the moment  

I’ve made peace with the pointlessness of it  all, when nothing’s left to do but laugh at the  

cosmic joke, and live.

Thank you for watching.