Why Children Are Not Nihilist

Ava Zhao / The Exonian via Midjourney

by FORREST ZENG ‘26

Student 1 and Student 2 find themselves at the beach on Academy Life Day. In the background, their dorm members run in the sand, playing football.

Student 1: It is so good to finally be back on campus.

Student 2: Perhaps. And yet, in front of us, we have another year of struggle and new experiences. 

Student 1: That is true. 

The two students are silent for a brief moment.

Student 1: Say, I enjoy Harkness. It is a much more demanding but also engaging method of learning.

Student 2: I agree. I meant to tell you about a math class — or rather, what I heard after the discussion.

Student 1: Well, go ahead.

Student 2: You see, I am in a math class with Joseph. Do you know him?

Student 1: Indeed.

Student 2: Yes. Anyway, we ended class normally, and we both had a free period after. He came up to me, and we struck up a conversation about our English classes. Joseph believes that English exemplifies the Harkness method, while I don’t believe that. 

Regardless of that, he went on a certain tangent from the discussion, which, although it was irrelevant to our conversation about English, was the most significant event that I remember from my conversation with him. We never resolved our debate about English, but I heard an interesting story. 

Student 1: Well, don’t make me wait!

Student 2: He began on track: 

“Look, I am in an English class with a bunch of stupid philosophers. They enjoy bringing up all these mundane philosophical ideas during class and connecting those ideas with the text. This particular class wasn’t too bad — we simply talked a little bit about our homework and also about the artwork we saw around campus.”

“Radiant Beasts?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he replied. “After packing up, I went into the hallway of the basement and upstairs, following these two philosophers, Sam Altman and Niko Todorov. The former is known for his debate skills and the latter as a pilot.” 

At this point, Joseph and I were walking to Elm Street to get some food. He continued to talk quickly, even as we crossed the street with eight honking cars on both sides.

“I decided to follow them, for I didn’t have much to do. I knew them both pretty well, but at the moment, they were engrossed in some kind of energetic discussion that I couldn’t make out. They sat down in Agora, plopping down in the massive brown sofas. I sat down near them. This time, I could hear clearly what they were saying. 

Sam asked Niko, ‘Let’s look at it this way. Why do you fly planes?’

Facepalming, Niko responded, ‘It just seems so amazing to fly in the air with no care of being bound to the ground.’

‘So you are elitist.’

‘When it comes to being trapped on the ground, yes. Don’t be limited to two dimensions.’

‘Yet, when you die, you will forever be stuck to the ground. If your purpose in life is to fly airplanes and to escape the ground, then everyone fails, because eventually, we all end up as soil in the ground. How can your purpose be flying airplanes, then, if it will always fail? Logically, then, there is no purpose in life.’

‘Ah, but what if the purpose of life is simply to continue life? I fly airplanes because I enjoy it and because it is a good paying job that lets me live longer.’

‘Let’s say that scientists one day discovered a magical drug that could make you immortal. The philosopher’s stone has been found. No matter what happens to you, you will eventually heal and live forever. Nothing could stop your existence.’

‘I can see that.’

‘You believe that the purpose of life might simply be to continue life — so essentially, to fight against death.’

‘Yes.’

‘The philosopher’s stone, however, would remove that necessity.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that, if we were immortal so that life was infinite, then we don’t have to do anything anymore. At the same time, we would choose immortality over mortality because it is the end all be all tool for fighting biological death.’

‘I see,’ said Niko. ‘While immortality gets rid of biological death, it also leads to the death of purpose. There isn’t much to do after you’ve lived forever. But that doesn’t mean the purpose of life isn’t fighting death. What we have shown is only that the means of fighting death is an end in itself.’

‘Yet we all die eventually, yes?’

‘Obviously.’

‘And our purpose, therefore is futile. In that no matter how hard we fight death, it will catch up to us anyways.’

‘It seems so.’ 

Throwing his hands up, Sam exclaimed, ‘So life has no purpose!’

Niko shifted in his seat and said, ‘But wait, don’t make that jump just yet. If fighting death is futile, then what about serving your country? Or what about simply being a virtuous person?’

‘These are indeed common purposes. Let’s examine them closely, then. What philosophies are these purposes based upon?’

‘Serving one’s country in the military would be from patriotism, and being a virtuous or ‘good’ person can be seen through the Neoplatonist perspective of imitating God.’

‘What do all these have in common? They rely on a supernatural existence that provides meaning and purpose to life. Patriotism is blind attachment to an imaginary country — and Classical virtue is an imitation of the supernatural.’

‘That is correct.’

‘In that sense, religion, too, gives a purpose to one’s life through supernatural ideas — especially because most ritualistic religions such as Christianity guarantee existence after death.’

‘It seems so. It also seems that while many people say that the purpose of life is staying healthy and fighting death, almost certainly, they will also have another purpose. Whether it be fighting for one country, being a well-rounded person, or working for a more pleasing afterlife, purposes of the supernatural kind are prevalent in humanity.’

‘At the same time, from a rationalist and materialist point of view, there is absolutely no purpose to humanity. A materialist would believe that religions and countries are phony myths. A materialist would believe death and chaos are inevitable.’

‘You describe a nihilist.’

‘I do—nihilists are materialists in nature. This is because they won’t accept any purpose, whether it be physical (fighting biological death) or supernatural (fighting for a nation). Do you think many people are nihilists?’

‘Not many, but I think more than animals who live in the wild,’ Niko said.

‘Wild animals? And why is that?’

‘Well, think of it this way. We have discerned two kinds of purpose in life — physical and supernatural. Do you agree that only humans can have the supernatural purpose since humans are the only animals that can imagine myths and stories?’

‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘I mean that only Homo Sapiens can create non-tangible social fictions, allowing many humans to collaborate.’

‘Give an example.’

‘Take the United States of America. What exactly is it? It’s a nation, yes?’

‘Right.’

‘But can you touch it? Hear it? See it? You can sense the land which the USA possesses. The idea of the USA, though, isn’t a physical thing. Yet at the same time, we treat it as if it’s a real thing. The USA, although an imaginary myth, is very real in our minds.’

‘Interesting. And so what is the purpose of having imaginary myths like the USA?’

‘They allow for massive human collaboration. Think about religions — they are inherently non-tangible ideas that are nevertheless social. If I am a Muslim, then I am connected in some non-tangible way to every other Muslim in this world. And this is very powerful. It allows the citizens of abstract nations, the followers of non-tangible religions, and the employees of mythical companies (e.g., “Apple” or “Phillips Exeter Academy”) to work together and survive.’

‘That seems to be an accurate way of describing society. However, I don’t see how this connects to our discussion of nihilism.’

‘I’m getting there. Do you agree that, since only humans can create imaginary social fictions, only humans can have imaginary purposes — like serving one’s country or following in the footsteps of a prophet?’

‘I suppose. I couldn’t see any other animal doing that sort of thing.’

‘And if a human doesn’t believe in a supernatural purpose, because they are atheist or perhaps disinterested in public service, then they are left with a physical purpose.’

‘It seems so.’

‘But here comes the twist. For any other animal, a physical purpose is enough: there isn’t anything beyond spending life foraging for food and fighting for predators. Humans, however, can question this physical purpose. They can be skeptical of the physical purpose. They can engage in nihilistic, philosophical discussions like we are having now. Only humans can doubt whether life is worth living.’

‘And that leads people to be nihilists.’

‘Right. Humans can think logically and out of the box.’

‘Alright — so to review, to develop the perfect nihilist, you need someone who has no supernatural purpose and someone who can be skeptical of life.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But why would someone be skeptical, though? For a typical person who isn’t a philosopher, it would seem like a waste of time.’

Niko thought for a second, then said: 

‘Skepticism is the human condition. When difficulty arrives, the human asks, “Why am I doing this?” When the human asks, skepticism takes over. When skepticism takes over, the human loses purpose.

We are predisposed as a species to overthink. We are predisposed to look for reasons before solutions.’

They both sat there in the chairs for a moment, thinking deeply. Then Sam asked, ‘So let me ask you this. First of all, do you have a younger sibling?’

‘No,’ Niko replied.

‘I have a sibling who is nine years old right now — and what I’ve noticed is that he is far from a nihilist. He has a clear purpose, which is to have fun and perhaps annoy his older brother. But he also satisfies the conditions of a nihilist which we detailed earlier. He isn’t old enough to understand social fiction — so he can’t be patriotic or religious. But I have never met a nihilist child.’

‘So you are asking why children aren’t nihilists, while adults are?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Do children have the ability to question things?’

‘They do — in fact, one of the strongest abilities. Children are always curious about the world, wondering and questioning about different things.’

‘What exactly is it that children question?’

‘Well, I suppose small things — why the sky is the color blue, where dinosaurs came from, how airplanes work, and the such.’

‘The object of his questioning is, therefore, physical things, then. Have you heard your brother ask yet about the nature of morality or the purpose of life?’

‘No, not yet. It seems like although he is an apt questioner, he doesn’t yet deal in abstract ideas.’

‘So why not?’

‘A matter of maturity, I guess. At the moment he is discovering his environment and this sort of curiosity helps him gain a greater understanding of the physical world. The physical world, after all, is the first thing he is exposed to. Although, it does become annoying after some time.’

‘Upon birth, the human knows little about the physical world, except that its purpose is to survive. That is encoded in its DNA. The human will cry when not fed, smile when tickled, and sleep when needed. 

Within human DNA is also the ability to question. First, the human questions the physical world. Throughout its childhood the human experiences and absorbs knowledge. With nothing to stop it, the human voraciously questions its surroundings. One day, it will run out of questions—and so ends the curiosity of a child.

But the human cannot stop questioning. So it turns to the next most obvious thing to question—the abstract world. The human will doubt. The human will think about life and existence. Human nature will push it to never be satisfied. And if the human thinks enough, it will know that life has no purpose.

Children aren’t nihilists because they aren’t at that stage yet. Abstract ideas develop after physical ideas.’

And here we had to go to class, so I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation.”

All of this is what Joseph told me. 

Student 1: A fascinating discourse. Let us enjoy our Academy Life Day knowing these things.