Ernest Becker in The Denial of Death coined the term “vital lies” to describe those beliefs human beings hold in order to give their lives meaning. I know something about meaning, or the lack thereof. There was a time when I considered myself to be not only a dedicated atheist, but a ”reality-based” nihilist as well. I wore my cynical intellectualism like a badge of honor and occasionally used it to bully people. I still do sometimes. I remain unconvinced that the “really real” comprises anything other than brute matter-energy in motion, but I now deal with that distressing possibility more constructively. I know I must avoid allowing myself to sink into the depths of existential despair at all costs, lest my “stinkin’ thinkin’ get the better of me and I fail to remain “sane and sober” (pardon the A.A. clichés). Here’s my system: I suspend disbelief and believe in the realities of my choosing. This isn’t simple denial. It’s actually a pragmatic system similar to William James’s “Will to Believe.”
I suspect that most adults have flirted with the unpleasant idea that they’re merely groomed, perfumed, clothed, enculturated primates living out their brief, ultimately meaningless lives in an impersonal and godless universe while telling themselves “vital lies” to avoid ending it all.* And yet, many of those same people are able to build seemingly meaningful lives, if ones informed only by “soft,” provisional “lies.” It’s as if they know implicitly what James stated explicitly: in the scheme of things, it’s often better to be happy than to be “right.” Life can be rich and nuanced when approached as a creative process to be lived rather than as a set of instructions to be followed.
*I need to lighten up.
