The Arrogance of Nihilism
When we declare that life has no value, we are making an extraordinary claim: that we have understood existence completely. This is, at its core, a remarkable assertion of omniscience. How could we possibly know, with any certainty, that the remainder of our days holds nothing of worth when we have yet to experience them? There is something not just pessimistic but curiously arrogant about such definitive conclusions about the meaninglessness of being.
The question of whether life is worth living inevitably leads us to a more fundamental inquiry: can life be measured in terms of value at all? Perhaps the very framework we use to assess our existence is fundamentally flawed.
The Economy of Time
The Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca observed something profound about our relationship with time:
“The life we are given isn’t short but we make it so; we’re not ill provided but we are wasteful of life. Just as impressive and princely wealth is squandered in an instant when it passes into the hands of a poor manager, but wealth however modest grows through careful deployment if it is entrusted to a responsible guardian, just so our lifetime offers ample scope to the person who maps it out well.”
This sentiment echoes across millennia, finding resonance in the biblical book of Ecclesiastes with its observation that “life is but a vapor.” Both perspectives are getting at something crucial: the subjective experience of time is shaped by how we choose to spend it.
Seneca invites us to consider life as an inheritance of wealth that requires careful stewardship. Our modern minds might translate this into a more familiar capitalist metaphor: time is money. But unlike money, time cannot be saved or accumulated—it can only be spent, and we are spending it continuously, whether mindfully or mindlessly.
The First-Day Mindset
We might benefit from a radical shift in perspective: what if we approached each day not as one in an endless, monotonous series, but as if it were our first? Not with the naïveté that this implies, but with the wonder, openness, and appreciation that typically accompanies beginnings.
To be born is to receive a gift of incalculable value—a canvas of possibilities upon which we might paint experiences of love, curiosity, pleasure, connection, and meaning. But like all valuable gifts, it comes with responsibility.
The Investment Portfolio of Existence
Each morning, we wake to make decisions about how to allocate the currency of our hours. Some investments yield remarkable returns: deep relationships, personal growth, creative expression, meaningful work. Others amount to squandered potential—hours lost to mindless distraction, unnecessary rumination, or pursuits that align poorly with our deeper values.
When we find ourselves in periods of despair, convinced that life holds no value, we might see this as something akin to a failed investment strategy rather than a fundamental truth about existence itself. The wisdom lies not in abandoning the market altogether but in reconsidering our portfolio.
There is particular waste in the hours we spend berating ourselves for past mistakes. Self-criticism, beyond the point of useful reflection, becomes a misallocation of our most precious resource. To dwell endlessly on one’s failures is to continue investing in assets that have proven themselves worthless.
Our Cosmic Insignificance—And Significance
We cannot avoid the vertiginous truth: we are infinitesimally small parts of an incomprehensibly vast universe that would continue without the slightest disruption should we cease to exist.
Modern cosmology tells us we are, quite literally, made of stardust—the debris of cosmic events that occurred billions of years ago. By astonishing coincidence, we find ourselves on a planet that appears to be exceedingly rare. Among an estimated 700 quintillion planets in the observable universe, Earth may be unique in its capacity to harbor complex life as we know it.
From this perspective, we might see ourselves as precious anomalies. In economic terms, rarity often confers value—diamonds and gold are valued precisely because they are scarce. Perhaps our existence, against astronomical odds, carries inherent worth simply by virtue of its improbability.
The Convergence of Creation Narratives
It’s worth noting how scientific and religious accounts of creation share surprising structural similarities. Both the Big Bang theory and Genesis describe a movement from chaos to order. Both evolutionary theory and religious texts describe the emergence of self-awareness in cognitive beings. Both science and religion attempt to articulate the fundamental laws that govern reality.
These parallels exist not because one framework is derivative of the other but because both represent human attempts to comprehend the incomprehensible. Our understanding is inevitably limited by what we can observe and process.
A Response to Cosmic Pessimism
If we allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by our cosmic insignificance, we may indeed conclude that life is merely an exercise in occupying space and time until we return to dust. But this perspective offers a false binary: either we matter on a universal scale, or we don’t matter at all.
To those trapped in this thinking, one might suggest either of two radical alternatives: either end your existence if you’re so convinced of its worthlessness (though we would strongly counsel against this), or dedicate yourself to contributing to the collective human potential that might one day alter the very cosmic order that now seems to render us insignificant.
As Thomas Aquinas observed, “It is not necessary that the human mind should be endowed with any new light from God in order to understand those things which are within its natural field of knowledge.” We are equipped to make meaning within the parameters of our existence.
From Chaos to Order
If we are products of the Big Bang, then we are, in a very real sense, fragments of creation itself. Our origin story—whether framed in scientific or religious terms—is one of order emerging from chaos.
When our lives become chaotic, perhaps we might see it as our inherent purpose to restore order—not just because it benefits us psychologically, but because it aligns with the fundamental pattern of existence itself.
To wake each morning is to implicitly answer “yes” to the question of whether life is worth living. Having made that choice, we might turn our attention to the more productive question: how will we increase the value of this one wild and precious life that we have been given?