On Cosmicism: Part Three

Read [Part One]  [Part Two]

“Lovecraft had a pretty bleak life, therefore, cosmicism may strike one as nihilistic and extremely pessimistic, however this is not quite so.  Lovecraft thought of himself as neither a pessimist nor an optimist but rather as a 'cosmic' indifferentist, a theme expressed in his fiction.  Things are important to humans on the human scale but we simply don't matter in the cosmos.” (Lovecraftian Cosmicism)

It is important to make a clear distinction between cosmicism and nihilism.  The crushing existential weight of cosmicism can make it seem that Lovecraft thought human life was meaningless.  That is not the case.  Recall his essay on “Time and Space” I quoted in Part One.  Lovecraft specifically states that cosmicism: “...should not be permitted to discourage humanity in its devotion to the ideals it has always pursued.  Life and mankind have their place in the natural plan, however infinitesimal that place may be.”

While cosmicism shares some similarities with nihilism, it does not necessarily argue that life is meaningless or devoid of value. In fact, Lovecraft says otherwise.  Instead, cosmicism merely orients humanity as cosmically insignificant in an indifferent universe (as does EOD).  The struggle to find meaning and purpose in a universe that is fundamentally unknowable is completely compatible with cosmicism and Lovecraft's writings.

In his fiction, this struggle often takes the form of characters who are forced to confront the terrifying reality of the universe, and who must grapple with the limitations of human knowledge and understanding. While this can lead to feelings of despair and hopelessness, as Rubenstien pointed out, it can also lead to a sense of awe and amazement in the face of the vastness and mystery of the cosmos.

There are many of atheists who believe the cosmos is a great example of Beauty and find it to be fundamentally inspiring.  Lovecraft was one of them.  Beauty has (had) meaning.  The Beauty of the vast cosmos is part of the not-nihilistic flavor of seeing the cosmos as both terrible and wonderful.  For Lovecraft, putting it coldly and materialistically, we must continue to evolve as a species.  But for that to even become possible Beauty and more attributions like it have to have human value and meaning, the vast terror of the cosmos be damned.  That, too, is certainly a part of EOD if not cosmicism.  

Perhaps cosmicism gets most conflated with nihilism in how both address the act of human attribution.  The two concepts share the idea that there simply is no attribution humans can make that will result in their cosmic significance.  God, reincarnation, resurrection, cosmic consciousness, quantum entanglements, astrological forces, whatever the human mind can imagine, none of it makes humanity significant outside of the strictly human context.  There is no attribution that can make us significant, even Beauty.
 
But that is not the point of Beauty.  Beauty has value to my life.  The universe and the natural world are Beautiful in the Platonic sense of St. Augustine.  Lovecraft would not agree with Augustine, of course, but he did recognize Beauty in his own way.  Nevertheless, cosmicism is a bitter pill to swallow.  Beauty and other Platonic Forms are not enough for most human beings.

With respect to cosmic consciousness, to pick an example, a new scientific theory states that human consciousness “exists outside the constraints of time and space” and that when we die our consciousness simply transfers to another universe.  This is the great “leveler” isn't it?  No matter the size of the cosmos, our consciousness is not bound to it and exists on its own quantum scale.  Such a theory attributes our consciousness to (rather vague) quantum variables that transcend anything to which cosmicism attends.

This strikes me as the latest spin on “death is not the end” and “we are significant because...” consciousness (or spirit) works in a non-materialist way.  Of course, this is possible but it is not very likely.  It involves the same twisted sort of logic applied to physics that is usually applied to religion.  It is another of the endless series of examples of attributing some special force or power to humanity.  And even if it is true, so what?  

We know nothing of this “other universe.”  Which is to say, we imagine it.  Interaction or understanding with this dimension is apparently impossible.  Maybe we should pull in the idea of Heaven being this other universe or perhaps it is actually the holding space for our consciousness until it reenters this world via reincarnation. Maybe this is the universe that gives us ghosts and makes the Ouija board work.  The possibilities are as staggering as the absurdity of the baseless proposition.

Nevertheless, people find meaning and purpose in their lives through this sort of charlatan belief construct.  Like bad theoretical physics, religion, philosophy, or others systems attribute significance to human existence. These systems provide a framework for understanding the universe and our place within it, and they can help to alleviate some of the anxiety and despair that can arise from contemplating our cosmic insignificance.

Given where the bulk of humanity presently resides in terms of Spiral Dynamics, without such frameworks, most people become disoriented, they don't find meaning and purpose in their lives, especially if they believe that their existence ought to ultimately be significant in the grand scheme of things. Nietzsche's idea of the "horrible truth" suggests that some truths may be too difficult or dangerous for us to bear, and that our need to find meaning and significance in life may lead us to distort or falsify the truth in order to make it more palatable.

This is a perfectly understandable experience, it can hardly be otherwise for humanity as a whole, given most of us possess medieval psychologies.  With attribution, we can assign our own meaning to something or someone beyond obviously finite bodies (or “buy in to” a group meaning like religion). By attributing significance to a higher power or entity, we can find purpose and meaning in a way that elevates our existence.  Attribution works for most people.  For them, it is almost impossible to have a meaningful experience without it.

For this reason, and because humans are so diversified, attribution manifests many ways, such as attributing significance to a higher power, a cause, a community, or a personal goal. Without attribution, most people struggle to find purpose and meaning in their lives unless, of course, they are willing to grow beyond attribution and change as persons, which is rarely the case.

Lovecraft's cosmicism emphasizes the insignificance of human beings and their creative imaginations in the grand cosmic scheme of things. It removes the idea of any higher power or divine purpose in the universe and portrays a reality that is largely indifferent to human existence. It rejects the notion that humans need cosmic attribution to have meaning and significance in their lives. Instead, it invites individuals to embrace the menacing vastness and uncertainty of the universe and preserver in the face of that.

Cosmicism challenges the idea that humans need to find meaning and significance through attribution to a higher power or cosmic order. By portraying the universe as indifferent and chaotic, Lovecraft's work (and EOD) suggests that there is no inherent cosmic meaning or purpose to human existence. This is unsettling and even terrifying for those who have a strong need for attribution (which is one reason Lovecraft's fiction is so affecting to read).

However, as Rubenstein suggests, the double movement of wonder may provide a way to reconcile this existential terror. Rather than seeking to impose meaning or significance onto the universe, individuals may be able to find wonder in the sheer existence of the universe itself. This can involve recognizing the complexity and mystery of the universe without trying to simplify or explain it through attribution (divine creation, cosmic consciousness, etc.).

In this way, Lovecraft's cosmicism insists that individuals move beyond their need for attribution and find a deeper, more relevant sense of wonder while accepting in the universe as it truly is. This involves embracing the unknown and accepting the limits of human knowledge and understanding, rather than trying to impose our meaning onto the cosmos.

I am empathetic to some degree with the fact that most people will find it difficult or uncomfortable to let go of attribution and the idea of a higher power or divine meaning. I understand that it provides a sense of security, comfort, or purpose. However, some of us find a sense of meaning and purpose without relying on attribution, such as through personal experiences, relationships, or a connection to nature.  It is possible to grow beyond attribution.  As I pointed out in Part Two, meaning and purpose are fundamentally relational, not attributable.  Meaning arises in the way we live our lives with each other.

But most people don't see it that way.  They feel the need for attribution for various reasons. Attribution makes sense of the world around them and their place within it. Attribution provides a framework for understanding events, objects, or concepts in a way that is familiar and comfortable to the individual.  It can serve as a means of assigning value or significance to something. By attributing importance or meaning to certain things, individuals may feel a sense of purpose or connection to those things (like in the cosmic consciousness example above).

Another reason for attribution may be to establish a sense of control or agency over one's surroundings. By attributing cause and effect to events, individuals may feel as though they have some measure of influence over the outcomes.  Conversely, and perhaps more prevalent, it can also serve as a means to simply “let go” of our anxieties and sufferings and “entrust” them to a “higher power.”  I'll let Jesus take care of that.

Yet, attribution is often influenced by individual biases and cultural contexts, which inevitably lead to limited or inaccurate understandings of the world. Though most people do not see either their own biases or their cultural lens (most people lack self-awareness), it is nevertheless better for humanity that at least some of us can approach attribution with a critical and open-minded perspective, acknowledging the potential for personal biases and being willing to consider alternative perspectives.  In fact, this is a clear indication of possessing a more sophisticated psychological toolbox and a more refined human awareness.

It is difficult, if not impossible, to completely divorce attribution from individual biases or cultural contexts. As Spiral Dynamics contends, our perceptions and understanding of the world are shaped by our psychologies and the cultural frameworks we operate within. Even when we attempt to be objective, there is always some level of subjectivity and personal bias involved in the attribution process.

It is likely that attribution has been a part of human culture at least since the Neolithic period, which began around 12,000 years ago (probably far longer). As humans developed more complex societies and cultures, they inevitably started to ascribe meaning and significance to various aspects of the world around them, such as natural phenomena, animals, and other people. This attribution was influenced by their individual biases, cultural beliefs, and religious or spiritual practices.

To take yet another example, Taoism is a philosophical and religious tradition that emphasizes the interconnectedness and harmony of all things in the universe. Taoists believe that everything is interconnected and that there is a spiritual essence or energy, called "qi" or "chi," that flows through all things. This belief in the spiritual essence or energy in all things can be seen as a form of attribution to the natural world. Taoists believe that by living in harmony with the natural world, one can cultivate this spiritual energy and achieve balance and peace. The Taoist approach to spirituality and nature is characterized by humility, simplicity, and a deep respect for the interconnectedness of all things.

Even if this interconnectedness truly exists outside human imagination, it is nevertheless insignificant to the cosmos.  Interconnectedness does not “level things out” in cosmicism any more than multiverses do.  There is no leveling out or equalizing of our humanity with the cosmos.  None.  Nevertheless, for all the reasons given here, human beings need to attribute to some thing that makes us significant.  Taoists believe the universe, everything, is Tao.  And Tao does its thing.  And everything within Tao is part of everything else doing its thing.

That is probably true.  I admit to being an accidental Taoist myself.  Taoism is a form of humanism that seeks to elevate humanity by claiming that we are meaningfully connected to the Tao and that it has a meaningful impact on our lives.  That also strikes me as legitimate.  But from the perspective of cosmicism (and EOD), though they exist, both of these meaningful connections remain insignificant.  The Tao is far larger than even the Taoists believe.  So big that you loose all sight of humanity and the natural world.  I repeat, Lovecraft says find your meaning elsewhere, the cosmos has spoken.  Seeing meaning as relational instead of attributable is the right way to start.

From This One Idea Will Change How Your See Your Entire Life (Youtube):  “5.5 billion years.  The Sun cools and expands consuming the Earth completely.  A once lively planet billions of years old wiped out without a trace, a grand finale of a light show with no ovation.  The Sun is dead.  The Earth is gone.  The universe doesn't notice.  There's so much time left.  100 trillion years.  The last remaining stars begin to die.  Fading out and burning up.   […]

“What we can know is that somehow we are here a part of that story.  Of all the things that could exist, of all the things that never will, for some reason, we are each one of the things that does.  While we are here, we will experience things, we will cry, we will laugh, we will hopefully love, we will know what it means to have awoken as an embodied collection of dead particles onto a strange, lushly coated wet rock floating through a vast expanse of energy and matter.  Made from and destined for apparent nothingness.  We will worry.  We will dread.  And we will try.  We will fail.  We will move on.  We will die.  We will be forgotten, but for now we are here. […]

“Not considering the absurdity and insanity of what is taking place around and through us, at least on occasion, can cause us to easily become submerged into falsity, into mundanity, into misunderstanding, into unnecessary anxiety and stress.  While we are here our lives naturally consume us.  But, in the end, insignificance consumes all life.  And considering this, at least on occasion, can perhaps help us better see and decide what we truly want to be consumed by while we are still here.”

In other words, according to cosmicism, the universe is indifferent and yet your life is enough.  When we encounter the strange, terrible truths of life it is up to each of us to take the next step.  There is joy and awe within our overwhelming cosmic insignificance.  This tension of “withinness” is the very basis for Rubenstein's “strange wonder.”  That is the way things really are, with or without our consciousness.  Nietzsche knew this when his Zarathustra spoke: “One must still have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star.”  Herein, the embrace of ultimate reality meets the true force intimate human self-creation.  Becoming who you are is without attribution. 

Get a sense of the vast scale of cosmicism here.