The Meaning of Life, Reconsidered

Imagine that you are strolling through a park, communing with nature, when a stranger walks up to you. He reaches into a bag, pulls out a handful of pencils, and asks you to explain them. Puzzled, you ask for clarification. “I want to know the meaning of pencils,” he replies.

You pull out your cellphone, access your dictionary app, enter “pencils,” and read him the response: “Pencils are instruments used for writing and drawing that have a hard outer part and a black or colored center part.” You then smile in a self-satisfied manner.

“No, no,” he responds. “I don’t want to know the meaning of the word ‘pencils,’ I want to know the meaning of the pencils themselves.” At this point, you might be tempted to abandon the conversation, but if you are a Thinker, you might treat it as a teachable moment and go into explanation mode.

You would start by explaining that things fall into different categories. For example, numbers can be sorted into those that are even and those that are odd, as well as into those that are prime (divisible only by one and themselves) and those that are composite. Animals can be sorted into various species. Likewise, words can be sorted into grammatical categories, including nouns, verbs, adverbs, and so on.

There are, however, limits with respect to such categorization. Whereas it makes sense to categorize the number two as being even and as being prime, it would be inappropriate to characterize it as having a color. In particular, the number 2 cannot be green, since the color concept doesn’t apply to numbers. Likewise the concept of being prime (in the sense just described) doesn’t apply to species or words.

At this point, clarification is in order. Although the numeral 2 can be green—imagine using a green pen to write it down on a piece of paper—the number 2 can’t be green—or any other color, for that matter. Whereas the numeral 2 is a physical object (consisting of ink on paper), the number 2 is a mathematical object, and whereas physical objects are capable of having color, mathematical objects aren’t.

Assert that the number 2 is green, and we will be making what mid-twentieth-century philosopher Gilbert Ryle referred to as a category error. We would likewise be making a category error if we asked what grammatical category elephants belong to or what species nouns belong to. Such claims, Ryle argues, are not false; they are nonsensical and therefore incapable of being true or false. More generally, Ryle argues that we are doing ourselves an intellectual disservice by entertaining such claims, since in doing so, we run the risk of falling down a rabbit hole. In chapter 7 of my book How to Think More and Better: Being Reasonable in Unreasonable Times, I explore some of these rabbit holes, including the seemingly profound claim that “love is just a word.”

One category error that has likely had a significant impact on the lives of many people can be found in the New Testament. It is Jesus’s claim that “I am the truth” (John 14:6). The problem is that whereas claims are capable of being true (or false), beings aren’t. Had Jesus said that “Everything I say is true,” he would have made a meaningful statement—maybe false, but nonetheless meaningful. In claiming to be the truth, however, Jesus is attributing a characteristic (truth) to something incapable of having that characteristic. Consequently, he is making a category error and is therefore—to put it bluntly—talking nonsense.

[A note to my Christian readers: You might take umbrage at my suggestion that Jesus could talk nonsense. If that is the case, please write a comment in which you explain to me exactly what Jesus meant in claiming to be “the truth.”]

Once we are aware of category errors, we can appreciate the role they play in human communication. When a guru tells his followers that “Sanity is just another form of madness”—followed by a pregnant pause—it is easy for them to assume that he just made a profound utterance and that if they can’t understand what he is saying, it is because they lack insights that their guru possesses. When Thinkers hear such an utterance, however, they will dismiss it as a category error, since mental states—like sanity—aren’t themselves capable of having mental states—like madness. They will therefore dismiss the guru’s claim as nonsensical, and maybe dismiss the guru as a fraud.

Having clarified these issues, let us turn our attention back to the stranger with the pencils. In asking to be told what they mean, the stranger is making a category error. Although words and sentences are capable of having a meaning, pencils aren’t. That said, even though pencils don’t have a meaning, they can be used to do meaningful things, such as writing a haiku or a grocery list.

This brings us to the meaning of life. Tell a Thinker that you are searching for the meaning of life, and they will first determine whether what you seek is the meaning of the word “life” or the meaning of life itself. If the former, they might tell you that life is the sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up the existence of an individual. If the latter, they will explain that life doesn’t have a meaning, for the simple reason that it isn’t the sort of thing capable of having one.

The Thinker might then take some of the edge off this pronouncement by adding that although life itself has no meaning, your life can be used to do meaningful things. For some people, this might involve starting a family or taking actions to change the world for the better. For other people, it might mean becoming powerful, famous, or maybe rich enough to buy a house so big that they have to use GPS to find the bathroom. Having said this, I hasten to add that if your ultimate goal is to flourish in the one life you have to live, you are unlikely to achieve that goal by becoming powerful, famous, or the owner of the house just described.

If the foregoing claims are correct, trying to discover the meaning of life is a waste of time and energy, since there isn’t one to discover. That time and energy would be much better spent creating a meaning for your life.

The first step in doing this is to reconsider your goals. By pursuing them, are you likely to flourish as a human being? If not, you need to replace them with goals that, given your character and circumstances, will maximize your chances of attaining things of real value. Do this, and the life you subsequently live won’t just be meaningful; it might be the most meaningful life that you could have lived.

Need more food for thought? Click here for my past essays, listed by title. Want to listen to rather than read my essays? Click here for narrations of my essays on becoming a Thinker, and click here for narrations of my essays on “applied thinking.” Narrations of my essays on becoming a Thinker are also available on your favorite podcast app. To play them, open that app and search for “Thinking More and Better,” and add episodes to your playlist.