by Christopher Horner
Existentialism was my introduction to the world of philosophy. I was first drawn in by its core idea, that individuals forge their own identities through their actions and, through the values they embrace. This notion held appeal for a young man searching for identity beyond family ties, a philosophy both romantic and invigorating. Like many others, my early intellectual heroes were the post-war French thinkers who seemed to embody these ideals: primarily Sartre, but also Camus, and although I vaguely sensed Camus’ approach to the absurd was different, I clumped him in with Sartre, which was a mistake. Then there was Simone de Beauvoir, whom I relegated to a secondary role: I was wrong about that, too. Those formative years painted existentialism as inherently French and Parisian and I was only dimly aware of other figures like Heidegger, Kierkegaard, and Nietzsche. The literary dimension and imagined Left Bank lifestyles added to existentialism’s allure. The glamour of it all! Where has it gone?
Radical Choice
In retrospect, I find many aspects of Sartrian existentialism problematic. Central among these is the concept of the individual as a ‘radical chooser’—the idea that meaning and value, absent from the world, must be created through acts of choice, thereby affirming value. This amounts to a form of extreme voluntarism: something is deemed good solely because one wills it to be so. “Existence precedes essence”—we become what we do. This is an untenable position.
I have previously discussed this issue of ‘existential choice’ on 3QD and will not elaborate at length here.[1] Briefly, if our choices are radically free, unconstrained by external facts, then any decision is justifiable only by the will of the actor. There are no external criteria for determining whether a choice is ‘right’, only that it is made freely. But then, choices look arbitrary, or they would if that was what happens in real life. People don’t act like that over any but the most trivial choices. Our decisions, our actions, presuppose commitments and frameworks of value, and dilemmas arise precisely because such frameworks are already in place. One may agonise over a moral dilemma, uncertain whether one has chosen rightly, but one cannot choose whether a situation constitutes a dilemma in the first place.
Authenticity
This critique necessitates a reconsideration of Sartrian existentialism, and of existentialism more broadly. Fortunately, Sartre offers more than radical choice, and among his enduring contributions is the concept of authenticity. This principle, of choosing oneself without deflecting responsibility onto circumstances, genetics, or upbringing, and avoiding what he termed “bad faith”, remains compelling. Yet the term “authenticity” itself is problematic if interpreted as uncovering some essential self simply by stripping away layers of social influence. The self is more dynamic and constructed than this. Yet there remains something valuable in this idea.
To better understand this, it is helpful to turn to Friedrich Nietzsche. Is Nietzsche an existentialist, or a forerunner of existentialism? It doesn’t matter. Nietzsche’s assertion that “one must become what one is” reframes identity as a process of becoming rather than something static. In doing so, we confront and take responsibility for our inherited circumstances, even if our inheritance consists, to borrow Yeats’s words, of the “foul rag and bone shop of the heart.” There is no singular, unchanging ‘real self’ to uncover, nor does anyone start from nothing. We are shaped by our upbringing, experiences, and inherited values, not blank slates, but beings constantly formed and re-formed by past and present. Think of it as the bits and pieces of junk and broken masonry that we find already in place, and that we shall have to work on. We must make what we can of it, and with it.
As children, we learn to anticipate and respond to the desires of others, gradually forming structures of desire within ourselves. The psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan expresses this thought as ‘all desire is desire of the other’. Perhaps this is why he suggests that true guilt arises only when one betrays one’s own desire. Being authentic, in this sense, does not mean adhering to an immutable self, but rather remaining true to the lack or drive that propels me forward in the way that is uniquely mine. Desire, here, is not about egoistic wants but a fundamental element of subjectivity and of existence. Failing to honour my desire is to abandon myself in favour of societal expectations or the demands of the “Big Other,” as Lacan calls it.
Importantly, authenticity does not license unrestrained hedonism, the pursuit of whatever pleasures capitalism seems to offer. Nothing could be less free or less satisfying in the end. Rather, it calls upon us to become ethical subjects, individuals capable of both good and bad yet committed to embracing and cultivating the unique selves that we could be. This is the existentialist ethic that endures and is worth upholding.
[1] ‘Existential Choice’ : https://3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2019/12/existential-choice.html