Wombats and Nihilism
The wombat is my favorite animal. If I were to describe a wombat with one sentence, I’d say they’re fat Australian squirrels that don’t give a crap. How can an animal not give a crap? What does a zebra do when it sees a lion? The obvious answer is that it gets its massive glutes in action and bolts. What does a wombat do when it sees its natural predator, the Dingo? It sticks out its rear end and dares the Dingo to attack. You see, the wombat is a fascinating creature. In times of danger, it leaps into a burrow, leaving only the hairy behind facing outward. The wombat’s butt is a fearsome weapon. Made of cartilage and tough skin, the posterior is impervious to the attacks of predators. In fact, if a Dingo dares to venture into the wombat’s burrow, it’ll find its head crushed–squashed to death by the impenetrable rump of the awe-inspiring wombat. The wombat doesn’t give a crap about your fancy schmancy food chain.
“The wombat’s butt is a fearsome weapon.”
I think we should all learn something from this magnificent creature.
Stop caring so much. We are enamored with this concept of caring. At face value, it’s in line with what we expect. We think: the more we care about something, the better we’ll do at it. For example, if I have a math test tomorrow, doesn’t it seem reasonable to assume the more I care about that test the better I’ll do on it? After all, the emphasis placed upon that test will force me to rise to the occasion and study hard.
To a certain extent, this is true. However, a byproduct of our level of concern and subsequent desire for control is stress. Stress occurs when something that you care about does not go your way. Sometimes stress even starts to rear its ugly head before the event in question has even had the opportunity to happen, like that math exam.
Aside from the obvious health reasons, why is stress bad? Like I mentioned previously, doesn’t caring about something lend you motivation for improvement? In one of the most well-documented psychological studies in the past century or so, research scientists Robert Yerkes and John Dodson measured the effects of stress on performance. Their 1908 study concluded in the Yerkes-Dodson law, a law which essentially concludes the relationship between stress and performance in complex tasks to be negatively correlated at higher levels. What this means is that if you have a complex task coming up like a test, caring too much could actually cause you to do worse than if you just took it a little more relaxed. But this shouldn’t be news to you. “Stress, bad,” we all know this. The real question is: how do we stop caring so much?
Well, I’ve got a solution. Why not ask the enduring question: what is the meaning of life? Introducing nihilism, the philosophy that argues life has no meaning. It’s not all doom and gloom however, look on the bright side: at least you won’t have to care about that test anymore. Nothing is meaningful, so nothing is important. Problem solved? Not quite. The concept of hopelessness, whether it be on an existential or a mundane, day-to-day level, often leads to unproductivity. So, on one hand, we have “oh my god, I care about this so much, I don’t what I’ll do if I fail”. And its polar opposite “ugh it’s not like it matter anyways. It doesn’t matter if I try, the end result is the same.” Neither of these are the solution. Especially the latter one, while the lack of stress brought about by absolute hopelessness may seem appealing, remember the Yerkes-Dodson law? What I forgot to mention was that the Yerkes-Dodson law found stress’ correlation with performance actually lies on a bell curve. Too little stress is just as bad as too much. So how do we find the magical zone of caring just the right amount?
“Nothing is meaningful, so nothing is important.”
Maybe nihilism does have an answer. Kind of. Enter Friedrich Nietzsche, the philosopher who’s famous for arguably the most nihilistic statement ever put on paper: “God is dead”. But Nietzsche is misunderstood. Nietzsche argues that yes, life is meaningless, but society must move past this inherent truth. Instead of searching for meaning that isn’t there or being squashed by the crushing of weight of chaotic existence, we should focus on more concrete things that we can control–a practical alternative. I’m not saying we should take Nietzsche’s word for it, after all this is a man who was also known for more radical avenues of thought. But he does have a point. Let’s apply his mindset to the mundanity of daily life. We can accept that some things that we care about won’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things, whether it be in endlessness of the cosmos or even in our unremarkable lives, and that’s okay.
By acknowledging that we sometimes place an inordinate amount of importance on minor aspects of daily life, we are able to take a step back. Sometimes, knowledge of the problem is a solution in and of itself. It opens the avenue for careful introspection. Sure, that math test that you are so stressed about won’t really make a difference in your life as a whole. Even if you were to completely fail it, there will be plenty of opportunity to make up for your failure in the future. That being said, wouldn’t it be nice to ace it? It’s not just tests either. This concept of taking a step back applies to anything that we care about, whether it be social issues or our favorite sports team. By balancing caring too much and caring too little, a happy compromise can be achieved.
It’s true that we often find ourselves caring too much, which is why we should aspire to be more like the wombat. But maybe we shouldn’t be completely like the majestic marsupial. Not giving a crap about the predator that is intent on ending your life seems a bit extreme. As awesome as it might be to achieve the level of bad-assery that the wombat embodies, let’s instead focus on a more practical alternative and find that middle ground.
“majestic marsupial."