Meaning Is Not Just Our Make-Believe
Denying nihilism its ground from a naturalistic view-point
We’ve been slugging it out with nihilism—staring down a universe that doesn’t care, carving purpose from the void with our bare hands. The Golden Rule gave us a lifeline: act like you give a damn, treat others as you’d want, complexity be damned. But let’s push deeper. What if meaning isn’t just our stubborn invention? What if it’s baked into us, etched in our bones by the brutal grind of evolution? What if nihilism is ultimately … wrong?
Nature’s Blueprint
We’re not blank slates. We’re twigs on life’s gnarled tree, shaped by millions of years of trial and error, the hand that Darwin happened to discover. Survival is the game evolution plays, and it has rigged us with instincts that light up when we nail the basics: a good meal, a warm bed, a kid who carries your genes, a friend who’s got your back. That rush of joy when you eat? The sting when you’re ghosted? Those aren’t random—they’re nature’s scorecards, fine-tuned by eons of pressure to keep us kicking. They’re not opinions; they’re facts of flourishing, as objective as gravity.
Beyond the Grind
But here’s where it gets wild. Modern life dials down the survival panic—most of us aren’t dodging sabretooths or starving—and suddenly we’re left asking, “Is this it?” And to such hearts, there is transcendence. That ego-melting bliss when the world quiets down, when you’re not clawing for the next breath—it’s not some cosmic fluke. It’s another evolutionary perk, a reward for hitting a higher gear. Those moments of pure being, when the “me” fades and you just are? They’re wired into the same system that kept our ancestors alive. Biology doesn’t just want us to scrape by—it wants us to thrive.
Curiosity’s Old Trick
Even our restless minds fit the pattern. That itch to know more, to scroll X, to crack life’s riddles—it’s not new. It’s the old adaptive drive to map the terrain, spot the threats, and snag the wins. Our ancestors who puzzled things out lived longer; now we chase the same high through books or likes. It’s not shallow—it’s ancient. Recognizing this doesn’t cheapen our quest for meaning; it anchors it. We’re built to seek, to connect, to grow—not because we’re dreamers, but because we’re survivors.
Nihilism’s Half-Truth
So, nihilism’s got a point: the universe isn’t handing out gold stars. But science doesn’t dump us in a void—it shows us the wiring. Our feelings, our highs, our ache for something bigger—they’re not delusions; they’re the hum of evolutionary machinery still churning. Meaning is not some flimsy human plaster over a crack—it is the pulse of what we are. We don’t just defy the silence; we’re built to shout back.
Tying It to the Fight
This hooks right into the Golden Rule. Treating others as you’d want isn’t just a nice idea—it’s an extension of the instincts that bind us. Empathy’s not soft; it’s survival, honed when cooperation meant eating instead of starving. Complexity taught us humility, sure, but this naturalistic lens doubles down: we act because it’s in our blood. The pursuit of collective good, of joy over suffering—it’s not arbitrary. It’s us, raw and real.
The Call Stands
Nihilism thought it had us cornered, but it missed the plot. The universe might shrug, but our nature doesn’t. We’re rigged to care, to seek, to build. So, we don’t just ask, “Would I want this done to me?”—we know why it matters. Then we act. Not because it’s eternal, but because it’s human. That’s the defiance that counts.