What Does it Mean to be a “Better Human?”

The question “what does it mean to be a ‘better human?’” presupposes some metaphysic depending on the answer one gives.

Are things whole, unified, and static, as the Pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Parmenides thought, or is everything chaotic, in flux, and “fire” as his iconoclastic contemporary Heraclitus thought?

It’s unclear whether one or the other philosopher is entirely wrong. Humans are both — metaphysically speaking — being and becoming.

That is why across the span of our lives, even though we’ve changed, we still feel like “ourselves.” The “one” or “whole” that has borne witness to many transformative fires, so to speak.

People are, and they become.

Ideally, one strikes a balance in this seemingly contradictory state of affairs, but the plight of humanity is in the fact that most of us don’t — and by that token, most of us fail to become “better humans.”

If one stays what they are — if one gets stuck in their ways and lacks self-determination due to being wholly other-determined — they will not become what they are, as the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche would have said.

This is how things are — there is no other definition of “being” than that!

In that case, what are we to do with the plight of our “being?” How can we become more than what we already are?

Through great suffering and loss — significant enough to risk one’s life and/or spirit.

For us humans, this means defying norms where they abjectly harm us.

Retaliatory descriptions of “cruelty,” “disloyalty,” and the like will proceed as a further infliction of harm in an attempt to reel one back from the brink of ascendence through guilt and cruelty “in kind.”

In other words, to become a better human, one needs to reevaluate their values — to self-determine their rank order as a means of self-preservation from the harmful effects of other-induced value rank orderings.

Nothing Prepares You For Revolutionary Calls of Conscience

It is remarkable how much one takes for granted as a human — how full of prejudice we are at all stages of our lives — how egoistically in denial of this we are!

There have been numerous reevaluations of my cares and beliefs across my life, and none of them have been particularly enjoyable. Most, in fact, have been profoundly excruciating.

Nevertheless, they always preceded periods of flourishing and thus may only be regarded as spiritual birth pangs.

For example, my high school gang of buddies were through and through people, I regarded as family. I felt safe with them and loved their company.

This, however, was predicated on a system of beliefs I’d hitherto never reflected on — one based on teasing, manipulation, exploitativeness, and an active hatred of negative feelings that inevitably respond to such behaviors.

And when such negative feelings are coercively accompanied by feeling a need to suppress such feelings for others, you are in a context whose norms — at the very least — warrant some critical evaluation.

My reevaluation resulted in lacking any friends whatsoever for several years.

At first, of course, this hurt, but it also gave me the space and time to reflect, which was necessary for exploring my values independent of what anyone else thought about them until I was able to identify what they were and how I could behaviorally manifest them in my everyday life.

Figuring out what I needed from life and then how I could obtain it peacefully and with self-confidence took the utter destruction of my social life.

Without going into any excessively personal factors, it wouldn’t have happened under circumstances any less extreme than these.

I was with individuals who I loved but whose reciprocity consisted in my untimely [spiritual] death —

And while you probably think, “my situation won’t end up being that bad,” you should guess again.

If your life hasn’t yet had a crisis, but your emotions are running wild, a crisis might be needed!

For a long time, I knew my friends were no good to me. The months preceding my departure consisted of a repeated prolonging of the inevitable — either I will perish here, as I am, or I will figure something else out to see what I become.

This is the difference between “being” and “becoming” by transformative standards — our Being as “humans” consists of this difference (it is this capacity for betterment or its horrible antithesis that makes us human.)

Without a struggle of our choosing, someone else will choose it for us and will be far less likely to be as forgiving as you would’ve been on yourself — a state of discipline that comes from others is obedience, not a state of volition; being commanded, as opposed to commanding oneself.

Of course, such obedience has a necessary place in human life — one shouldn’t whip themselves just as much as they shouldn’t whip others — but let us not make that our argument for maintaining it for our whole duration on this Earth!

Norms aren’t always “Normal.”

To give another personal example: I had happily been writing as a contributor with a prominent publication for nearly a year.

The norms we had established as an editorial team were spot on, as the permitted creative freedom — I felt, in virtue of that, trusted.

Consequentially, I was permitted to write a lot of high-quality material on a daily basis as my job — and because it paid quite decently, I was financially happy.

Until a new manager showed up and started changing everything — really, to put it mildly, they destroyed all of the norms that made the publication a great place to work at.

I was appalled, for instance, at being told my writing was — verbatim, mind you — “too good.” Standards were expressly dropped — meanwhile, increased hours were expected to meet such lowered standards (all for less pay!)

As I had been exposed to something better in the same context, I immediately knew something was wrong — though it took me some time to leave, as one always reserves the hope that previous states of affairs would resume.

Patience dwindled, however, so I left — and making even less money, at least I now had creative freedom again (something in my writing profession that I value above all else, as I see it as integral to the quality of produced content.)

These situations where one can stay who they are or become something more constantly appear throughout our lives, and one must suspend their judgment in rational reflection (assuming there’s time to do that) if they are to choose the latter wisely.

I did not want to leave the job I had so much cherished but simply had no choice but to at some breaking point.

Such suspension should ultimately amount to determining what you take to be “normal” without others having too much say or influence on that process.

What is customary is not for everybody, and for those who want to become “better humans,” it is the exact opposite of the road to that destination.

Those through history that we most admire didn’t necessarily attack customs or regard them as unconditionally “bad,” just as customs do regarding dissent.

Instead, such great individuals — like the Buddha, Socrates, and Jesus — viewed customs critically — and thus, conditionally, concerning context and many confounding factors.

To “self-overcome” is, therefore, to become an analyst and critic of the norms in your life — don’t wholesale reject them, but don’t “follow the herd” and wholesale accept them either (especially when that “herd” is the reluctant companion in your head whose hellbent on helming your downfall.)

This instinct is correct if this course of action leads you to believe a better course of action is available.

Indeed, as Nietzsche notes, customs are often designed to anticipate this through conditioned guilt, so if you feel guilty for dissent, beware!