What is the Alternative to Seeking Meaning
- Kris J. Simpson
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
Can Knowledge free us from suffering?

“Nihilism stands at the door: whence comes this uncanniest of all guests?” — The Will to Power
Fredrick Nietzsche did not endorse nihilism; rather, he cautioned that it would represent the inevitable and tragic consequence of the modern epoch following the “death of God” — a metaphor denoting the collapse of enduring meaning-making traditions that historically underpinned the foundations of our civilizations.
Albert Camus, a prominent French novelist, philosopher, and journalist, and notably the second-youngest laureate of the Nobel Prize in Literature, articulated the absurdity and inherent meaninglessness of life. Nonetheless, he advocated embracing this absurdity through passionate living, the core philosophy of his book “The Myth of Sisyphus,” offering arguably a warmer outlook than Nietzsche's on our endless search for meaning.
Yet other schools of thought hold that the pursuit of meaning is inherently problematic, arguing that such a search inevitably leads to suffering and therefore should not be pursued.
The primary noble truth in Buddhism is characterized by “dukkha,” often interpreted as suffering or stress. The underlying cause of dukkha, as identified in the second noble truth, is tanhā — attachment to meaning and purpose. The proposed remedy, outlined in the third and fourth noble truths, involves relinquishing these cravings through the Eightfold Path, guiding practitioners toward nirvana — the cessation of suffering.
Another ancient philosophy, Taoism (Daoism), takes a skeptical view of imposed meaning. Based on the text of the Tao Te Ching, it promotes Wu Wei, non-action, or the natural way, without force and rigidness towards meaning and purpose.
Arthur Schopenhauer, a 19th-century German philosopher influenced by Buddhism, asserted that the quest for meaning or purpose is ultimately futile and inherently leads to suffering.
Proponents of this view argue that human beings are, in effect, ‘meaning-making machines,’ often to their own detriment.

However, this raises an important question: what is the alternative to seeking meaning?
Human beings are biologically predisposed to seek meaning; our psychological framework is constructed around this pursuit. If existence is ultimately devoid of meaning, as Mark Manson succinctly asks, “Why give a f*ck?” in his book titled “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck”
This capacity for meaning-making distinguishes humans from other life forms. It enables us to discern dualities within our perceptions and to confront paradoxes — contradictions that can lead to mixed meanings, chaos, confusion, and what is commonly referred to as suffering.
If, hypothetically, one were to eliminate the pursuit of meaning and instead focus solely on the acquisition of knowledge — detached from any underlying significance — it is argued that suffering would consequently be eradicated.
However, our understanding of human biology indicates that once our basic survival needs are met — often through competitive cooperation — we possess the cognitive capacity to transcend instinctual existence. This surplus of time has enabled us to engage in reflection and contemplation.
Moreover, a cross-cultural analysis reveals a near-universal human quest for a power greater than oneself. Throughout history, societies have constructed narratives and belief systems that order their collective existence. This raises the question: Is such a pursuit mere coincidence, or does it reflect a fundamental aspect of human nature — a drive embedded in our very DNA — to seek a reason for existence, a phenomenon seemingly absent in other life forms?
Suffering, in this context, may be conceptualized as a form of resistance — a necessary precondition for creation itself. Indeed, creation appears to be an intrinsic characteristic, or perhaps even the underlying ‘meaning,’ of the universe.
One could further argue that the universe is structured in such a way that the construction of matter and form constitutes its dominant, replicating law. This principle has allowed matter to perpetuate and outcompete other possible states of existence — paralleling the theory of natural selection. Conversely, if the universe’s dominant force had favoured the elimination rather than the formation of matter — if, for instance, antimatter prevailed over matter — we might inhabit a universe devoid of, or with only limited, material existence.
Within this paradigm of resistance, all living beings — consistent with the theory of natural selection — can change, adapt, and ultimately persist. This drive toward continuation may be understood as an inherent goal, or ‘meaning,’ embedded within all living species.

Thus, in the absence of meaning, there would be no resistance and, consequently, no continued existence.
If we accept the premise that humans are inherently meaning-making entities, yet assert that such meaning is not essential for survival, the question remains: what, then, serves as the motivating force in its absence? While survival itself may be posited as an alternative, one must consider whether this aligns with our neurobiological reward systems — systems that not only propel us to action, but also generate suffering when we fall short of our perceived potential. For example, negative emotions such as envy, though potentially detrimental (as seen in the context of social media comparison), might also be reframed as motivational feedback — signalling areas for personal growth and prompting individuals to confront their fears and aspirations.
It is difficult to envision how society could avoid devolving into self-centeredness and destructiveness without some form of higher purpose. While reductionist approaches — viewing humans merely as collections of quantum particles, atoms, and cells — provide a certain perspective, they neglect the complexity and relationality of the whole.
Reality may, in fact, be better represented by metaphors such as the spiral, which illustrates the ever-unfolding and interconnected nature of existence. The word “circumambulation” derives from the Latin circum (“around”) and ambulare (“to walk”), and it has been used in many religions throughout the ages to describe the practice of circling an idol or a sacred symbol. It was also used by Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung to describe the development towards what he called individuation, or the Self becoming whole, which he deemed a non-linear process, more like a spiral ladder, with each encounter seeming to yield the same experiences but with nuances each time.
I used this metaphor for the cover of my fictional book titled “Fruition — A Transformative Journey to Self-Discovery,” which features a spiral fountain in the likeness of a snail’s shell towering towards the sky.

Reductionist philosophies tend to dismiss the implicit, the metaphorical, and the symbolic — elements that the human mind is naturally attuned to comprehend. By privileging only what can be empirically measured, such approaches risk discarding vast domains of meaning as redundant or unnecessary.
It is questionable whether such a worldview is sustainable for humanity in the long term. Scientific paradigms are ever-shifting, and with so many competing theories and a lack of absolute certainty, individuals may struggle to find stability and agency — needs which are also deeply rooted in our psychological makeup.
Such an approach could engender a lack of enthusiasm for life, a pervasive sense of purposelessness, and increased resentment, anger, and conflict. Therefore, if we value the continuation of our species, the search for meaning — and the tools by which we discover it, including suffering — should not be hastily discarded.
Viktor Frankl, a neurologist, psychiatrist, and Holocaust survivor, the author of “Man’s Search for Meaning,” developed a form of existential psychotherapy called Logotherapy, from the Greek word “Logos” (word, logic, reason), based on his experiences surviving the Nazi concentration camps, where he worked as a doctor and was given the chance to escape but chose to stay.
It was in these camps that he developed his belief that “the primary motivational force in human beings is the search for meaning (“will to meaning”), rather than the pursuit of pleasure (Freud) or power (Adler).”
Further evidence for humanity’s innate pursuit of meaning can be observed in scientific endeavours. Scientists, for example, often embark on research motivated not solely by the accumulation of knowledge, but by a deeper quest for meaning; otherwise, what would compel such passionate inquiry?
One might counter that the drive to discover and innovate stems from the desire to improve comfort and satisfy basic needs, implying that passion for scientific discovery is merely a by-product of animalistic urges. However, when pressed, few scientists would likely attribute their zeal solely to such motivations.
Rather, it is plausible that most scientists cannot fully articulate the underlying reasons for their drive to seek new knowledge, as many such motivations reside in the subconscious. Yet, upon deeper examination, it becomes evident that this compulsion is ultimately rooted in the universal human search for meaning — a quest that transcends mere survival.
Interestingly, those who most adamantly deny the existence of meaning in the cosmos — arguing that reality is composed of meaningless matter, the product of random chance — often exhibit great passion and conviction in advancing their viewpoint. This paradox highlights the inherent human tendency to imbue even the denial of meaning with significance, thus reinforcing the argument that the pursuit of meaning is inescapable.
In conclusion, perhaps the resolution to this enduring dilemma lies in the pursuit of reconciliation and the subsequent harmony between seemingly opposing tendencies: the ardent quest for meaning and the dispassionate negation of its existence.





Comments