The Meaning of Meaninglessness – and Vice Versa

One of the illustrated epigrams on which my strange career has been built shows a little cherub hovering in the air, holding a large volume, while an unseen speaker demands, “BRING ME A DICTIONARY – I WANT TO KNOW THE MEANING OF LIFE.”

Well, after all, if you can’t find meaning in a dictionary, where can you find it? For the record, my Webster’s New World College Dictionary, Fourth Edition gives as its primary definition of meaning – “What is meant” – which raises the interesting proposition that, for there to be any meaning, there must be a “MEANER.”

Viktor Frankl thought that he found meaning in a Nazi Death Camp. But the only part of his writings that has stayed in my mind was his recalling one night in that camp, when the man in the next bunk was having a bad dream, tossing and moaning. Frankl’s impulse was to take pity and wake him. But, as he reached out to do so, he suddenly realized that no dream, however bad, could be as bad as the reality this man would be returning to when he woke.

We are fortunate to be spared that terrible situation. But we need not be exposed to such horrors to find meaning – or meaninglessness. They are spread equally all around us. They are virtually two sides of the same coin.

Most of us have probably had the experience of realizing, after the event, that we were so busy, so intently involved in some activity (presumably because it seemed so meaningful) as to have at least temporarily forgotten whatever it was that had been troubling us before. What does this say about meaning? It seems to equate meaning with oblivion – or at least with distraction.

What it comes down to is that when we say a person finds meaning in something, what we “mean” is that it diverts his attention from everything else. But being in love, though it may be a kind of insanity, is surely not a condition of oblivion or even of distraction. And yet, as countless love songs assure us, it seems to give meaning to life.

But a good meal can also give meaning to life. So can a good night’s sleep, or even a good bowel movement. Unfortunately, these experiences of meaningfulness are, like being in love, impermanent – and even more ephemeral. It seems that The Meaning of Life, even if you find it, has to be sought over and over again.

How have I written all this about meaning, and so far never even mentioned God or religion? It surely is true that, to many people, there is, or there need be, no other answer. But to me personally, there is more meaning in science than in religion – though I know that nowadays they tend more and more to blend together at the outer edges. And I know that ultimately, the scientists seem to be as baffled as any other truth-seekers. Yet a scientific endeavor such as the project of decoding the human genome – though I can hardly claim to understand it – says more to me about meaning than any conceivable doctrines of theology.

So, then, what about art and literature, and all the other manifestations of creativity? Don’t they make life more meaningful? Actually, I would argue that they might provide as much ammunition for those who flaunt the banner of meaninglessness. After all, while there may in the past have been many great works created to the glorification of various deities and religious ideas, the more recent trend, whether in painting or poetry or music, appears to be to celebrate the absence of meaning, and indeed to rejoice in the freedom to be meaningless.

This entire phenomenon is symbolized by the pages we occasionally encounter (particularly in government publications) on which are printed nothing but these words: “THIS PAGE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK.” (Ironically, those words leave the page no longer blank.) Imagine God himself taking up the theme with the message “THIS UNIVERSE INTENTIONALLY LEFT MEANINGLESS.”

Monty Python’s 1979 film The Life of Brian [satirizing Jesus], concludes with an unforgettable sequence in which Eric Idle, himself fixed to a cross, leads a literally crucified chorus in singing “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”. When I saw this again recently, I had coincidentally just that week written my own pertinent comment:

“They tell us to ‘look on the bright side’ – but in Hell, it’s bright on all sides.”