NIHILISM BOJACK AND RICK MORTY

What’s up everyone?

Many assume that nihilism simply means believing in nothing but it actually refers to a number

of philosophical, psychological, and ethical positions and while they all differ, these different flavors of nihilism all begin from the shared premise that there is no inherent meaning, value, or order in life.  

“Gentleman. There’s a solution here you’re not seeing”

Although Many an angsty edge-lord might get a kick out of using nihilist catch phrases to show the world their heart of darkness. In reality, most of these folks miss out on the complexity of nihilism.

Rather than a philosophy best embodied by Tyler Durden, nihilism can be the basis for

meaningful worldviews. Today we are going to narrow our focus down to two different branches of nihilism: existential nihilism, and cosmic nihilism (also known as cosmic pessimism).

Part 1: Existential Nihilism

Existential nihilism is the nihilism experienced when we realize that there is no inherent  meaning to our lives, and at its core, human existence is just a precarious dance upon the grave. It is up to us to create meaning in our lives through our own freedom and decisions. We can have values, but we must create and sustain them.

And it’s this worldview which fuels Bojack Horseman. “I’m responsible for my own happiness? I can’t even be reponsible for my own breakfast.”

The term nihilism was first coined at the end of the eighteenth century by German philosopher

Friedrich Jacobi in response to Enlightenment reason, which he worried would explain away

the conditions for religion.

This rationalist method explained away any spaces of uncertainty or mystery, rendering everything there was knowable. Sound familiar?

“Well, scientifically, traditions are an idiot thing.”

One of the first philosophers to think through the implications of nihilism was Søren Kierkegaard, who the New York Times has referred to as the “Danish Doctor of Dread.”

Although Kierkegaard never used the word existentialism, he’s regarded as one of the fathers of modern  existentialism and while Kierkegaard wasn’t known for the substance abuse typical for many nihilists, he did pour so much sugar into his coffee that it piled up above the liquid, like an iceberg warning of adult onset diabetes.  True story — Which is insane.  

And probably more dangerous than sipping scotch bfore you get out of bed.

Kierkegaard thought that despair was an essential part of the human experience, which he referred to as the “sickness unto death”. This human despair is dialectical, which basically means you are always at odds with yourself or put differently, “I don’t know how to be, Diane. It doesn’t get better and it doesn’t get easier. I can’t keep lying to myself saying I’m going to change. I’m poison.”

For example, we’re either in despair because we think nothing is possible, “It happened

again. Why do I keep thinking things will make me happy? What is wrong with me?”

or we despair because we think everything is possible and can’t  make a decision.

We are in despair about being who we are,

“Am I just doomed to be who I am?  The person in that book?”

or in despair because we can’t be who we think we are.

“All this time I assumed there was more to me than everyone thought, but maybe there

isn’t.”

This despair is the root of the melancholy that plagues much of the human experience, the same melancholy we see in almost all of the characters of Bojack Horseman, from Todd’s worries about his sexuality to Princess Caroline’s  anxieties about motherhood.

“Well how do we make it viable again?”

Except Mr. Peanutbutter. He seems fine and of course Bojack is a character that seems to have it all. Successful acting career, beautiful home, money and women. Yet he can’t seem to enjoy any of it and even when seemingly good things happen to him he manages to either feel disappointed

“You’re an Oscar nominee, how do you feel?”

“I feel…I-I feel…the same.”

or sabotage his own happiness.

“Just to be clear, since this morning, you ate all the muffins?”

“Yeah!

I ate them all in one sitting because I have no self control and I hate myself.”

No matter what decision he makes, he’s marked by regret, and no matter how well things work

out, Bojack is haunted by an unshakeable despair.  Kierkegaard describes this experience in his book Either/Or:

No matter what Bojack does, whether it’s virtuous or selfish, the stench of regret  follows.

“Look what I do to the people I’m supposed to care about. I had sex with the one person. I’ve ever seen you be in love with.”

And for Kierkegaard, this isn’t an exception to the human condition, it is the very nature

of the human condition.

For Kierkegaard, anxiety is caused by the uncertainty that lies beneath every decision and he considers anxiety one of the ways we experience freedom. Because we’re free, we’re responsible for our own decisions, and the weight of these decisions leads to anxiety.

Kierkegaard describes this anxiety as standing at the edge of an abyss:

And this terrifying freedom means we can literally do anything, including botched suicide attempts via yellow convertible.

For Kierkegaard the only way to work through this anxiety and despair is the acceptance  of the comic absurdity of reality, and living one’s life by faith. But if you’re not keen to use religion to combat meaningless, don’t worry, Kierkegaard thinks that faith is simply the courage to attempt a meaningful existence in the face of a meaningless world.

“Sometimes, you need to take responsibility for your own happiness.”

There may be no cure to despair and anxiety, but we can at least try to make our lives

meaningful. However, it’s important to remember that while existential nihilism offers us the possibility of a meaningful life, it guarantees us nothing, and it’s our responsibility to constantly create meaning.

Part 2: Cosmic Nihilism (or, Pessimism)

Now that we’ve seen the ways in which existential nihilism manages to offer some meaning and

hope, let’s look at the less optimistic branch of nihilism, cosmic nihilism.

Cosmic nihilism is a colder, hyper-rational branch of thought which argues that there  is no truth or meaning to be found in the universe, and even constructed human meanings like freedom, love, hope, and joy are just myths we believe in to cope with the empty void at the center of our reality.

Even the meanings we create are at best, fables that act as coping mechanisms. “Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere…everybody’s gonna die…come watch TV?”

For the cosmic nihilist, it’s okay to keep busy while we wait for the coming heat death of the universe; but we’re kidding ourselves if we think that we’re capable of creating  genuine meaning.

“When you know nothing matters the universe is yours and I’ve never met a universe that

was into it. The universe is basically an animal. It grazes on the ordinary. It creates infinite idiots just to eat them. Not unlike your friend Timmy.”

“Yeah hardly matters now sweety. Ya know smart people get a chance to climb on top, take reality for a ride, but it will never stop trying to throw you and eventually it will. There’s no other way off.”

Bojack’s version of this sentiment is slightly more optimistic: “The universe is a wild beast.

You can’t tame it, all you can do is try to live inside it.”

To quote Rick: “What people call love is just a chemical reaction that compels animals

to breed.”

And while Bojack might find meaning in his lingering love for Diane, a good eliminativist

like Rick knows that human emotions are fundamentally bullshit. “To the extent that love is familiarity over time my access to infinite timelines precludes the necessity of attachment.”

We can also view Beth’s arc in season 3 in this light. She is torn between Jerry and Rick – on the one side, pure, sentimental, irrational love for a buffoon.

“I can make a clone of you. A perfect instance of you with all your memories. An exact copy in every way. It’ll love and provide for the kids. You could be gone a day, a week, or the rest of your life with zero consequences.”

But if Rick had a favorite contemporary philosopher, there is a good chance that it would be Thomas Metzinger. Unlike those who assume that the human self is a real thing that we all have, Metzinger argues that no such thing has ever existed. Instead of having a self inside of us, he argues that all we are is a jumbled network of neurons and chemicals.

The self is just a useful fantasy we use to make sense of our experience, like a sort of psychological fairytale.

“So what I am saying is that you all as you’re sitting here are systems that simulate and

emulate themselves for themselves as they are listening to me.”

And if Metzinger is right, we have to give up the illusion that humanity has any real

purpose, or that we have some kind of special unique soul. As a show, Rick and Morty frequently trivializes the self and consciousness, as Rick’s creations become sentient and have existential crises.

There’s this classic: “What is my purpose?”

“You pass butter” “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, welcome to the club.”

“I don’t know Morty. Maybe I hate myself. Maybe I think I deserve to die..I-I-i Don’t know!!”

“In philosophical terms I’m what’s called a pessmimist… We are things that labor under  the illusion of having a self,  programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody.  When in fact everybody’s nobody.”