Existentialism at its Best

Anyone who knows me or has read my writing knows that I love existential philosophy. I preach about it regularly. In our increasingly complicated world, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and lose a sense of purpose in life. Existentialism is more important now than ever. I consider myself to be abnormal in some ways. Most of us can arbitrarily label ourselves as “abnormal” in some sense of the word, because the idea of normality itself is somewhat arbitrary. Therefore, we each have an idiosyncratic relationship with existentialism. 

For as long as I can remember, I have tried to perceive reality as objectively as possible. As a result, I had an obstinately cynical and mundane outlook on life. I was trapped in an education system that failed me. I’ve always loved to learn new things, but school didn’t cut it for me; it was a terribly boring place where I’d listen to my teachers lecture concepts I could easily understand by reading a textbook and subsequently complete tedious chores called assignments. I became apathetic and miserable. It took years for me to realize that optimism wasn’t naivete and that perhaps there were insights into these failing systems that only I could explain. My extended struggle with existentialism is about learning how I can fix these systems while abiding by them to ensure that no child has to suffer in the same ways that I did. Daunted by the seemingly immutable absurdities of society, I question my ability to make a change. I also question how best to make use of my abilities and whether my efforts truly make a difference. Sometimes these apprehensions culminate in an existential crisis in which I feel like surrendering to the world. I can’t change anything. I just want to relax for the rest of my life. I think to myself. Ambition is only worth so much without passion-fueled tenacity. 

I’m certain that I’m not the only one who struggles with existential dread and I hope that my experience resonates with at least some of you reading this. In Why We Should Exist For Utopian Altruism, I identified why I want to exist. In What Existential Philosophies In Manga Tell Us, I realized that existential principles can differ depending on sociopolitical and individual factors. In Why Inverse Solipsism is a Remarkable Metaphysical Framework,  I further reinforced the importance of altruism. Finally, in Utopian Altruism Retrospective, I reflected on my philosophies, which held firm. I came to understand my relationship with existentialism by pouring my soul into these articles, but there was one manga that taught me to actually appreciate this intimate relationship. I Sold My Life for 10000 Yen per Year, based on the novel Three Days of Happiness by Sugaru Miaki, is one of my favorite works of fiction ever created and propounds the greatest existential philosophy ever created. 

I’m being completely serious. It’s even greater than the existential philosophies propounded by Nietzsche and Adit Pakala. Let me explain without delving into spoilers. I Sold My Life for 10000 Yen per Year asks how much human life is worth. Although many stories have asked this question, I Sold My Life is the first story I’ve read to reflect on the nuances underlying this question. It’s these nuances that gave me a greater appreciation for life:

1. Why does human life have value?

Most people seem to agree that human life has immeasurable value. Most of us wouldn’t sell our family for any amount of money, but why? Is it because human beings can’t be replaced? The adults who raise us can be replaced. Billions of parents and guardians throughout human history have provided children with the bare necessities. Are parents then valuable because of the invaluable love they display to their children? The smaller subset of parents and guardians who raised their children with love are surely also replaceable. Countless children were abandoned by their biological parents and cherished by foster parents. Why does this perception of human life as a developmental ecosystem feel so wrong? 

Perhaps it is best to postulate an inherent worth to human life. Imagine two hypothetical situations. In the first, you are instantly reincarnated into an alternate universe without memories of anyone from your current life. In the second, you are instantly reincarnated into the same alternate universe with those memories. None of the people you knew in life are in either of these alternate universes. While I cannot guarantee that everyone would be less happy in the second situation, I bet that most of you would feel more distressed in the second situation. No one dies in either hypothetical. You simply find yourself in another reality. For all you know, all of your previous life experiences could have been a simulation. Yet, the knowledge that everyone in your life has ostensibly disappeared is traumatizing. 

Upon further reflection, I believe that the collective experiences we share with people is what creates the inherent worth of human life. Utility and love are replaceable. Anyone can love other people like Bob or repair furniture as well as he can. Anyone can mimic his kind smile or his muscular physique. But what about his skill in cooking or his foul breath? As I enumerate more and more of our imaginary friend’s traits, regardless of how positive those traits are, it becomes clear that Bob has value because of who he is in his entirety. No one can completely replace Bob and by virtue of holistic human appreciation, he has worth as a human being. I just conceived this guy from my imagination and I’m already starting to feel sentimental. I Sold My Life excels in its ability to extend this holistic appreciation of humans to life in its entirety.

2. But is all human life really equal?

Let me tell you about my other imaginary friend Jim. Jim works his 9-5 and earns a decent salary. He spends all of his time outside of work either finishing chores, eating, or sleeping. Jim has no friends and no one remembers who he is. If human worth stems from a holistic appreciation and shared human experiences, why should it matter if Jim dies? Observe that I made several unrealistic assumptions in creating Jim. I assumed that Jim has never had an emotionally significant interaction with any human being in his entire life, including his parents. I failed to supply a description of Jim’s personality. I also assumed that there is no context behind his lifestyle. No one is like Jim. Even the protagonist of I Sold My Life, despite his initial portrayal as a nondescript failure in life, is characterized in greater depth. He had a childhood. He has values. He has a personality. It’s possible to find value in every human being because none of us can ever be Jim.

I Sold My Life is chiefly concerned with people who believe they are Jim and have given up on life. When questioning the belief that all human life has worth, we also concern ourselves with despicable people. Meet my enemy Adam. Adam is a serial killer who took the lives of several innocent children without remorse. Adam is about as unequivocally heinous as they come and I wish I could pretend that there are no Adams in the real world. If the world is better off without Adam, that appears to disprove my claims regarding human worth. However, Adam still has worth. Ignoring the serial killing, he was actually a pretty decent guy we could appreciate holistically. I’m not saying that he’s a good person (after all, it’s difficult to ignore serial killing), but he still has worth. When I say that he has worth, I don’t mean that the world is better off with him alive. It definitely isn’t. I mean that at least some miniscule fiber of his being could be missed. And when I say that his life is equal to Bob’s I’m not saying that Adam is just as good of a person. I’m not saying that they both deserve the same quality of life. I’m saying that the same set of moral principles applies to all humans. If Bob committed serial murders, he would be a terrible person by the same principles that label Adam as a bad person. I believe this perspective that all humans have worth and should be evaluated by the same moral principles allows us to value life more and to view humans more objectively.

3. Is there any value in dying tomorrow instead of today?

The protagonist of I Sold My Life is given a limited time to live and believes that none of that time matters. He feels that he’s wasted his life and that he can’t achieve anything in his last few months alive. I won’t spoil how he spends the remainder of his life, but I can say that it taught me to treasure every moment of my life. If given a choice between dying today and dying tomorrow, I would choose to die tomorrow. In the grand scheme of things, my death is nothing. Billions of humans throughout human history have died and many of those deaths are tragic. One day is approximately .000158% of my life (yes I counted the number of days I’ve been alive). Why then, should one day make any difference? To me, the value of one day can’t be quantified. One more day to live is one more day to appreciate the joys of life. I could rewatch my favorite piece of fiction, Erased, read my favorite books, and enjoy my last remaining hours with friends and family. I wish that all of us could share this sentiment. If not, I hope that all of us have at least one moment in life that would be worth living an extra day for. If having just a few extra days to live means that I can spread even a little more happiness into the world, I’m all for it.

Afterword

I Sold My Life for 10000 Yen per Year revolutionized my perspective on existentialism. It allowed me to reflect on why I value life. It taught me to see value in all of us, irrespective of how we compare to each other. And most importantly, it encouraged me to cherish every moment I spend in this world. I cannot recommend the manga and novel enough and anticipate that it will leave as strong of an impact on you all as it left on me.

Recommendations

1. Erased: my favorite piece of fiction by far and one I wholeheartedly recommend to anyone who enjoyed this article, its controversial ending notwithstanding

2. Barakamon: an anime that also appreciates the little things in life

3. Land of the Lustrous: a psychologically horrific perspective on the ideas of time, life, and immortality