'Metaphysical, Ethical and Existential Concerns in the Threshold' by Damien Borne

Jean-Paul Sartre was a 20th-century philosopher known for his key role in the philosophy of existentialism. His contributions can be summarised with two ideas: firstly, that humans are condemned to be free, and secondly that for humans, existence precedes essence. These premises, taken together, mean essentially that there is no external purpose to human existence; we are responsible for our own actions, in full, and for choosing our own purpose and meaning.

But this is a philosophy of life, and I am writing this, for the moment, content with the reality of my own death. What of Sartre’s philosophy, and of existentialism in general, applies in the Threshold? In particular, what can it teach us about the nature of ascension, which is given to us as our purpose by Psychopomp? In life, I considered myself an existentialist; can I still consider myself as such in death?

I will focus first on the idea that existence precedes essence. To understand this position, we must consider the converse, that essence precedes existence. Suppose I were to hand a woodworker the blade of a hatchet, and ask them to produce a handle for it. We would expect them, quite naturally, to proceed by measuring - perhaps only by eye, but somehow or other - the size of the blade and the hole in which the handle is to fit, and the size of my own hand. And at this point - before ever beginning to carve, before even selecting the exact wood they wish to use - the woodworker should have a complete understanding of the handle in mind: the size, the shape, the purpose, the form. They could imagine it fitted into the blade, imagine me wielding it. This is the handle’s essence, its nature, and its existence will follow when the woodworker actually produces it.

Thus for a handle, essence precedes existence. The same, it has been claimed, holds true of humans. That is, that we were created to some specific blueprint - made in an image, with a desired purpose and nature. Sartre rejects this notion, because he does not believe in a creator. In life, I too rejected it, and also did not believe in a creator; but I will advance that there is a stronger reason for denying such a claim, one that may be convincing even if you do believe in some divine creator. For both believers of Selca-Clanabe and the Ancients generally hold that the world as a whole, and therefore humanity in particular, was originated by some greater power. But it is evident to all, as a matter of fact, that humans are produced by humans; that we are assembled through biological processes. In my time, advances in natural science have expanded our understanding of childbirth, and so confirmed that, if divine power did originate the human species, it need not interfere any more.

And thus, although the essence of humankind as a whole may have preceded its existence, the existence of each individual human must precede their essence, for no mother has in mind the nature and form of their child before they are born. They do not know the colour of their hair, nor how tall or lean they will grow to be, nor how their personality will develop. The child is born - it comes to exist - and then gains its essence, its form and purpose. In part this is decided by its heritage; in part by its experience and learning; and, importantly, in part by its own choice, by the decisions it makes.

What does this imply for us in the Threshold? Well, if our existence preceded our essence then, then certainly it must still do so now; the passage of time does not edit the order of past events. So we are, in this regard, in the same state as we were in life. Our existence precedes our essence. And therefore, as Sartre argues, we are responsible for all of our actions. There cannot be, say, some intrinsic human nature, or some higher purpose in our creation, and so we cannot appeal to these to explain or justify our actions.

These considerations bring us neatly to our other key idea, that humans are condemned to be free. Because we lack an inherent essence - because we existed before our form and purpose were decided - we have a part in determining our own nature. In fact, ultimately, we have the only part that matters. In life, purpose and meaning are thrust at us from various directions. Our parents might desire us to follow a certain career; our priests might teach us the plans of our chosen deities; our governments and politicians might have a model of a good citizen to which we are meant to conform. In every case, since we already exist, we have a say in the matter, a choice of whether to acquiesce or to resist. Indeed, as our essence is not yet decided, it cannot inform our decision; and so only our free choice can make the final determination. And we cannot escape this: in Sartre’s words, our being is not determined, and so it is up to everyone to create their own existence, for which we are then responsible. Thus we are condemned to freedom.

This is perhaps the most important lesson of Sartre’s teachings, and I would like to take a moment to note that in my own works, I considered it to subsume the first. For suppose that you do not accept that human existence precedes our essence. Suppose you are not satisfied with my argument, and believe that you were created, as an individual, by some higher power, in a specific predetermined image. Even then, essence changes. As you move through life, your personality, form and desires shift with your experiences and decisions. So you may have begun life with some external purpose, but at every step it is your choice whether to actually pursue it - after all, you could simply ignore it. And if you do choose as such, then you are responsible for that choice, just as you would be responsible for, as a somewhat grotesque example, murder, even if your parents had instructed you to commit it. One might argue that it is not their place to dissent from a divinely ordained mission, and this may be true - the ‘right’ choice might be to submit to the divine will - but this itself is a choice, because it is at least physically possible for them to decide that it is their place to ask such questions.

Again I ask, to what extent does this apply in the Threshold? And again I answer that our deaths change little. Whatever else is true of our new existence, we can choose. We have free will, and as argued above our existence still precedes our essence, and so in every case we are responsible for our actions and for defining our own existence. We may well decide to take external sources of purpose for our own - we may well believe that it is right to do so - but still it is our own choice. Still we have to take responsibility for it. And if we were somehow to be wrong, if we discovered we had been deceived, then we could not turn the blame outwards; we made the choice to believe, to have faith, to pursue some certain goal, and our choices are only and solely our responsibility.

So we come to the subject of ascension, the title of this essay. As mentioned in the introduction, ascension is an example of an external purpose. Psychopomp and its employees tell us that our goal here is to seek ascension, indeed that the Threshold itself exists for that purpose. And some among us seem to have assumed that ascension is the goal ordained for them by higher powers in which they believed in life. As in life, however, we are condemned to freedom. Whatever we believe about ascension, we can choose whether to pursue it or not, and either way we are responsible for doing so. Even if one believes Psychopomp’s claims, that we were brought here in order to ascend, we do not need to take it as our purpose. We might well reject the authority of whoever delivered us here - even if they are divine in nature - and fix ourselves ahead on a goal of our own choosing.

Whatever decision we make, we are responsible for creating our own essence, and for the consequences that follow. Nothing about the nature of the Threshold changes that. We are free to be whoever we choose to be, and cannot pass on the choice to an external source - because in doing so, the choice is made. We may, for example, blindly follow the advice of Psychopomp, but we should be aware that this is a decision we have made, and we alone will be responsible for the results.

In practice, it is imperative to note that by its very nature we have no way to verify the results of ascension. We are told, vaguely, that what follows is ‘good’, that it is something worth seeking, but we have no way to confirm this. And as far as we know, neither does Psychopomp. Perhaps the most pressing question of our current existence, in my opinion, is how Psychopomp claims to know anything about the consequences of ascension. Do they even claim to have strong evidence, regardless for the moment of whether we could reproduce it, or are they simply guessing? Either way, if you choose to consent to the purpose they desire for you, then you are doing so purely on the basis of Psychopomp’s claim to authority. This is of course a choice you can make - after all, you are condemned to be free. But you should be aware that it is a choice you are making, and that you are responsible for it, and that if it hurts yourself, or another, then it is you that has caused that suffering.

You should also be aware that, even if you believe that what follows ascension is desirable, you do not have to desire it. A rich chocolate cake is often desirable, particularly if it is cheap and I have no fears as to my weight, but I have every right to decide not to want it. This holds even if I have no strong alternatives, such as an equally delicious victoria sponge; I have the choice to simply pass by such opportunities, because I am condemned to be free, and to decide my own essence. And so too with ascension. You might be convinced that it is something worth seeking, and still choose not to seek it, in favour of other purposes. Of art, perhaps, or philosophy, or friends, or simply existence. Importantly, if you do choose to seek it, this is again your responsibility; that ascension is desirable does not independently justify desiring it.

As a final word, I will say that Sartre sees much of what I have discussed in this essay in a rather pessimistic light. He holds that a man truly aware of his own freedom should be anguished by it, by his complete and total responsibility for his actions and purpose. There is certainly a comfort in having your life decided for you, at least if you view the decider benevolently. It means you need not worry as to the consequences of your choices; you need never feel as though you have made a mistake. But I see it differently. Freedom to choose your own purpose means you are not limited. You can be, as mentioned above, whoever you choose to be, do as you choose to do. You are free to find your own place in this world, as in the last, and I find that beautiful.