Toward the end of my degree program, I sat down with one of my professors to discuss a topic that I was just starting to be able to put into words. It is heady, and even when I explain it, most people still do not quite understand what I’m trying to get at. I now refer to it as the Issue of Authentically Pursuing Unattainable Goals.

My concern is not whether people can set unattainable goals, nor whether a person could pursue such a goal. Clearly these things are both possible and frequently done. I might decide to become the strongest person in the world, but due to various genetic and chronological limitations, this is a goal that I will never achieve; I might still go to the gym and alter my diet with the aim of achieving this goal, despite knowing I will never achieve it. I believe this seems fairly obvious.

However, the challenge I am concerned about is the level of authenticity in such a pursuit. That is, how much of my time and effort will I be willing to devote to such a pursuit? If I believe the goal is unattainable, it seems to me that I will “hold back” in my pursuit. After all, why dedicate too much to a goal I cannot ever attain?

My partner further added to this concern when I discussed a related goal to her somewhat recently. In her case, she had convinced herself that a goal was unattainable, even though I believed the opposite was true. That is, I believed the goal she had set for herself was very attainable. But what I believed is not relevant here; what she believed is. If she believes the goal is unattainable, then she will act and behave as though that is the case. Which drives us directly to my concern.

For my partner, as she expressed it to me, if the goal is unattainable, then there is no point in even beginning the pursuit. She argued to me that it would simply be a waste of time and effort to begin such a pursuit. All that time and effort would be better spent on goals that were attainable. Her argument is pretty solid, and I am definitely moved by her position.

Which brings us back to my concern: authenticity. If a person knows (or believes) that a particular goal is unattainable, they are likely to hold back in such a pursuit, up to and including giving up the pursuit altogether. This is clearly a problem.

A core issue in this discussion is the idea of belief. What one believes is more important than what is actually the case. If one believes a goal is unattainable, they will hold back. But, the contrary may also then be true: if one believes a goal IS attainable, they may then be prepared to devote all of their time and effort in the pursuit of the goal. They may be able to pursue the goal fully authentically.

It seems to me belief is far more important than whatever the truth of the situation might be. A person is motivated not by the state of the world, but by what they believe is the state of the world. If they believe a goal is attainable, it does not matter if it really is attainable. Even less is it important whether they actually attain the goal. The only thing that seems to matter is that they will be able to pursue that goal fully.

Thus, when trying to motivate people to action, it seems more important to focus on what they believe is the case than worrying about the actual state of things in the world. This brings to mind all talk of religion and culture now, as it is through such vehicles that belief is often formed.

But this also brings us back to me as well. For my belief is such that most things are unattainable.

Life, it seems to me, is such an unattainable goal. More specifically, life has no goal whatsoever. The pursuits in life do not lead to any glorious outcome or ultimate prize. For the devout Christian, there are reasons to be devout, as a good life will earn them a place in heaven. For the one who believes in reincarnation and karma, there are measurable reasons to act in good ways, as it will earn them a better rebirth in the next run. The afterlife is a heavy motivator, and there always seems to be a reward for “living well.”

But I believe that the end of life is simply the end. I do not believe in an afterlife. I believe that once I expire, I cease to exist. I cease to be. This does not mean I believe I will be in pain or that I will suffer. Nor does it mean I will be happy either. It simply means that at the end, everything stops. At least for me. I will have no further worries. I will not be in pain. I will cease to experience time or events. I simply stop.

As this is my belief, it means there is no reward for me if I behave in one particular manner or another in life. To be successful is no different than to be a failure. To live in luxury no different than to live in squalor. Perhaps these things may make a difference in the moment, but ultimately they are the same, as I end the same in all cases.

It is in part for these reasons that I tend to gravitate toward the Existentialists of the mid twentieth century. Toward Simone de Beauvior, for example. That my freedom provides for me the ability to decide meaning and purpose. In the absence of a reward at the end of life, I instead decide for myself what things will have value. I decide whether to be good or to not be good in life.

It is often raised to me that I have no instrumentally good reason for selecting to be morally good. I usually argue against this, as behaving in a manner that is socially acceptable and agrees with those around me fosters positive relationships and allows me to pursue other projects that I might otherwise find rather challenging if those around me were actively working against me.

But all of that is still a side stepping of the original concern. What reason I have to be good or not be good is mostly irrelevant; I am concerned with the authentic pursuit of an unattainable goal. Or, in the case of life, for me, the authentic pursuit of no goal at all.

Unlike those around me who seem to find a way to believe in some sort of ultimate goal in life, which normally manifests in a belief in some sort of afterlife, I have no such goal. Those around me who have such a goal can obviously motivate themselves to pursue that goal in their lives, fully and authentically. Their lives are full of that pursuit, because they honestly believe that goal exists.

I cannot. Because I do not have that belief. And I am unable to somehow manufacture that belief. Others can tell me as frequently and as passionately as they want that there is an afterlife, but I am not moved. In part because there is no evidence to support their claim. Just as there is no evidence necessarily going against their claim either. There simply is no evidence at all. So I am unmoved by their position.

To be clear, I do not wish to disenchant them either. I have no wish to turn to them and try to convince them to my side of the argument. I am happy they have the belief they have. I support their belief, in so far as it provides for them their happiness. Unfortunately, however, it seems for many that their belief requires them to change my belief. And as this cannot be done, they try in vain. A lot.

It is a very difficult situation I find myself in. I have no belief in an afterlife. I have, for some ridiculous reason, decided to follow reason and logic. To follow evidence. To believe things based on evidence, and not to believe in the absence of evidence. The best I’ve been able to say in many situations is that “I am open to the possibility that these things could exist. But for now, I am not convinced, and therefore do not believe.”

Perhaps, some day, I will be convinced. Perhaps someone will provide for me that convincing evidence. This is also where many start to raise the issue of faith. That I need to have faith in the absence of evidence. I do have faith. A lot of faith. Just not in those things they wish me to have faith in. I have tried to have faith in things I do not believe, but I always find myself in a situation of “bad faith” of the sort Jean Paul Sartre talks about. I always knew I did not believe, even when I would say that I did. I was lying to everyone, including myself, and I knew I was lying, even to myself.

My concern remains, for the most part. Whether I am able to authentically pursue an unattainable goal, or whether I am able to authentically pursue no goal at all, the very idea seems to contradict itself. All I can really say is that I am always holding back.