Yes to Life: In Spite of Everything

by Viktor E. Frankl

the finite nature of our relationship with another person also makes the life of each individual not meaningless but only meaningful. What is meant by this is the fact of our imperfection, our inner limitations, as they can be seen in the different characteristics of human beings. But before we think about the meaningfulness of our imperfection, we must, for the moment, ask whether the despair of human beings over their own imperfection and inadequacy can ever justifiably exist. For we must ask whether people who measure their “being” against a “what ought to be,” who thus measure themselves against an ideal, can ever be completely worthless.

the finite nature of our relationship with another person also makes the life of each individual not meaningless but only meaningful. What is meant by this is the fact of our imperfection, our inner limitations, as they can be seen in the different characteristics of human beings. But before we think about the meaningfulness of our imperfection, we must, for the moment, ask whether the despair of human beings over their own imperfection and inadequacy can ever justifiably exist. For we must ask whether people who measure their “being” against a “what ought to be,” who thus measure themselves against an ideal, can ever be completely worthless.

To demonstrate this, we have an apt model from the biological world: originally, in the evolution of living beings, cells are known to have been capable of anything. A “primitive” cell can do anything: it can feed, move, reproduce, and somehow “sense” its environment, etc., and the individual cell only becomes specialized following the slow process of evolution of cells into higher forms of organic cell groups so that the individual cell is finally used only for one single function.

discussed earlier, just as death proved to be necessary for finding meaning in that it justified the uniqueness of our existence and with it our responsibleness, we can now see that the imperfect nature of human beings is meaningful since—now regarded positively—it represents the individuality of our essential inner being. However, this uniqueness as a positive value cannot be based on itself alone.

Analogous to the functional value of the single cell for the whole organism, the unique individuality of each human being is given value through its relationship with an overarching whole; namely, a human community. Individuality can only be valuable when it is not individuality for its own sake but individuality for the human community.

Analogous to the functional value of the single cell for the whole organism, the unique individuality of each human being is given value through its relationship with an overarching whole; namely, a human community. Individuality can only be valuable when it is not individuality for its own sake but individuality for the human community.

If we were to try to summarize in a formula the unique nature of existence and the uniqueness of every human being, and this uniqueness as a uniqueness “for”—in other words a uniqueness that is focused on others, on the community—a formula that can remind us of

If we were to try to summarize in a formula the unique nature of existence and the uniqueness of every human being, and this uniqueness as a uniqueness “for”—in other words a uniqueness that is focused on others, on the community—a formula that can remind us of the terrible and glorious responsibility of human beings for the seriousness of their lives, then we could rely on a dictum that Hillel, a founder of the Talmud, made into his motto almost two thousand years ago. This motto is: “If I do not do it, who else will do it? But if I only do it for me, what am I then? And if I do not do it now, then when will I do it?” “If not I”—therein lies the uniqueness of every single person; “If only for me,” therein lies the worthlessness and meaninglessness of such uniqueness unless it is a “serving” uniqueness; “and if not now,” therein lies the uniqueness of every individual situation!

the terrible and glorious responsibility of human beings for the seriousness of their lives, then we could rely on a dictum that Hillel, a founder of the Talmud, made into his motto almost two thousand years ago. This motto is: “If I do not do it, who else will do it? But if I only do it for me, what am I then? And if I do not do it now, then when will I do it?” “If not I”—therein lies the uniqueness of every single person; “If only for me,” therein lies the worthlessness and meaninglessness of such uniqueness unless it is a “serving” uniqueness; “and if not now,” therein lies the uniqueness of every individual situation!

we now summarize what we said about the “meaning” of life, we can conclude: life itself means being questioned, means answering; each person must be responsible for their own existence. Life no longer appears to us as a given, but as something given over to us, it is a task in every moment. This therefore means that it can only become more meaningful the more difficult it becomes. The athlete, the climber who actively seeks tasks, even creates the difficulties for himself: how delighted is that climber when he finds in a rock face another difficult, an even more difficult, “variant” of his task! At this point we must note, however, that religious people, in their sense of life, in their “understanding of being,” distinguish themselves in that they go a step further than the person who merely understands their life as a task, in that they also experience the agency that “gives” them the task or that sets them before the task—the divine being! In other words, religious people experience their life as a divine mission. And to sum up, what could we say about the question of the “value” of life? The view that presented itself to us is perhaps most aptly expressed in the words of Hebbel, who says: “Life is not something, it is the opportunity for something!”5

we now summarize what we said about the “meaning” of life, we can conclude: life itself means being questioned, means answering; each person must be responsible for their own existence. Life no longer appears to us as a given, but as something given over to us, it is a task in every moment. This therefore means that it can only become more meaningful the more difficult it becomes. The athlete, the climber who actively seeks tasks, even creates the difficulties for himself: how delighted is that climber when he finds in a rock face another difficult, an even more difficult, “variant” of his task! At this point we must note, however, that religious people, in their sense of life, in their “understanding of being,” distinguish themselves in that they go a step further than the person who merely understands their life as a task, in that they also experience the agency that “gives” them the task or that sets them before the task—the divine being! In other words, religious people experience their life as a divine mission. And to sum up, what could we say about the question of the “value” of life? The view that presented itself to us is perhaps most aptly expressed in the words of Hebbel, who says: “Life is not something, it is the opportunity for something!”5

ONE OF THE CONCLUSIONS WE WERE TRYING TO REACH in our first discussion is as follows: if life has a meaning, then suffering must also have a meaning. Of course, illness is part of suffering. “Part of,” we say, because “suffering” and “illness” are not the same thing. A person can suffer without being ill, and they can be ill without suffering. Suffering is such a purely human matter, which in itself is somehow already part of human life, that in some circumstances it is precisely this “nonsuffering” that can actually be an illness.

For the mind cannot actually get sick; the cognitive dimension can only be true or false, valid or invalid, but never sick. The only thing that can become sick, that can fall ill, is the psyche.

For the mind cannot actually get sick; the cognitive dimension can only be true or false, valid or invalid, but never sick. The only thing that can become sick, that can fall ill, is the psyche.

relative apathy. It is

paradoxically as it were—suffer from not being able to suffer! There is, in fact, a special form of melancholy that, unlike the usual form, does not occur

How deeply in the consciousness of humankind must lie the knowledge that suffering belongs to life itself! But for all of us, this fact is not as strange as it would first appear;

Somehow we know how much we were able to grow and mature precisely during these joyless periods of our existence.

We have already heard that the fulfillment of meaning is possible in three main directions: human beings are able to give meaning to their existence, firstly, by doing something, by acting, by creating—by bringing a work into being; secondly, by experiencing something—nature, art—or loving people; and thirdly, human beings are able to find meaning even where finding value in life is not possible for them in either the first or the second way—namely, precisely when they take a stance toward the unalterable, fated, inevitable, and unavoidable limitation of their possibilities: how they adapt to this limitation, react toward it, how they accept this fate. In the course of life, human beings must be prepared to change the direction of this fulfillment of meaning, often abruptly, according to the particular “challenges of the hour.”

We have already heard that the fulfillment of meaning is possible in three main directions: human beings are able to give meaning to their existence, firstly, by doing something, by acting, by creating—by bringing a work into being; secondly, by experiencing something—nature, art—or loving people; and thirdly, human beings are able to find meaning even where finding value in life is not possible for them in either the first or the second way—namely, precisely when they take a stance toward the unalterable, fated, inevitable, and unavoidable limitation of their possibilities: how they adapt to this limitation, react toward it, how they accept this fate. In the course of life, human beings must be prepared to change the direction of this fulfillment of meaning, often abruptly, according to the particular “challenges of the hour.” We have already heard that the fulfillment of meaning is possible in three main directions: human beings are able to give meaning to their existence, firstly, by doing something, by acting, by creating—by bringing a work into being; secondly, by experiencing something—nature, art—or loving people; and thirdly, human beings are able to find meaning even where finding value in life is not possible for them in either the first or the second way—namely, precisely when they take a stance toward the unalterable, fated, inevitable, and unavoidable limitation of their possibilities: how they adapt to this limitation, react toward it, how they accept this fate. In the course of life, human beings must be prepared to change the direction of this fulfillment of meaning, often abruptly, according to the particular “challenges of the hour.”