Is “Meaning” Really Meaningless?

I talk a lot, on this site, about the importance of purpose and meaning, especially in terms of how to weigh conflicting life decisions. I devoted two posts in December (More Evidence on the Power of Purpose and Community and More on the Importance of a Meaningful Job and Path), in fact, to the the power and impact–not just on others, but even on your own mental fatigue or energy levels–of feeling as if what you do matters.

I also believe that, from a company or organizational standpoint, the best way to improve the performance of a team, and build teamwork, is to get its members to realize why their common goal matters; why getting across that goal line is meaningful, for reasons other than just the bottom line. A team united by a common belief that their common goal is both important and meaningful is far more likely to work cohesively and effectively toward it. A vision of accomplishing something important and meaningful is the fuel that sparks passion, dedication and perseverance for that goal.

Given all that, I was both intrigued and a bit taken aback when I read a column in The New York Times, a while ago, entitled The Problem With Meaning. The thrust of it was that although we all feel this hunger and desire for “meaning” in our lives, pursuing our own definition of “meaning” (as opposed to following a societal guideline about what is meaningful) is a kind of selfish, squishy kind of motivation, “based solely on emotion,” and “fleeting.”

It helps to know that the author, David Brooks, was working on a book about “character” at the time he wrote this particular column. It also helps to know he is a big believer in social structures as motivators.. He believes, as he says in the piece, that people who have had some of the greatest impact on the world (Nelson Mandela, Albert Schweitzer, Abraham Lincoln) “subscribed to moral systems … that recommended specific ways of being and had specific structures of what is right and wrong, and had specific disciplines about how you might get better over time.” (I presume Brooks means after Mandela renounced violence as a valid means to his ends.)

Brooks concedes that a desire for “meaning” in one’s life is about more than material success. That it’s about “giving,” “serving others,” and “significance.” His issue, it seems, is that we allow everyone to decide for themselves what is meaningful, and for how long. Today, you might find meaning in working for social justice, but tomorrow, you might decide there’s more meaning to be found in painting. And in the end, the person you’re really serving in that desire for meaning is yourself, not others.

Two points there. First, I think Brooks is conflating an individually-driven search for meaning with a lack of long-term commitment to any particular goal, effort, or cause. And I don’t think those two elements are linked.
Without question, there are some people–especially young people–who flit around from cause to cause, without ever really settling on anything. Several years ago, I was riding the Washington D.C. metro on the morning of a major protest on the Washington Mall. The train was sardine-can-packed with people of all ages, some carrying protest signs. One of those sign-carriers, a young woman, was commenting to a friend that she’d had difficulty deciding what to write on her signboard. “I mean, really, there are so many things to protest!” she said. I had to bite my tongue to keep from suggesting to the young woman that she might want to focus on the issue she was actually en route to protest.

But I don’t believe most people in search of meaning scatter-shot their energy around like that once they get past the “all velocity no vector,” (as one test pilot friend described it) exploratory stages of youth, where energy and enthusiasm often far outstrip any clear sense of direction.

To have a fulfilling sense of meaning in one’s life is to have a sense of accomplishment in some effort that matters. And accomplishment never comes from a fleeting effort. It requires commitment to something, over time. And that goes for everything from social justice, art, and creative innovation to parenting. In fact, the one enduring reward of parenting that research consistently supports, despite all the conflict, exhaustion, stress and work involved, is the sense of “meaning” that raising children confers.

Second, Brooks seems concerned about who’s deciding what “matters,” in terms of what we commit our efforts to. He believes in the wisdom of secular and religious social structures for moral guidance, versus individual inclination. For starters, I would argue that a personal search for meaning is a large part of what draws people to those religious and societal institutions in the first place. And if we find our own sense of what matters in conflict with the beliefs of the institutions we belong to, or work with, we’re not likely to remain there long.

But the reality is, what gives us a sense of meaning in our lives really does differ, from person to person. Having children might be incredibly fulfilling to one person, and a burdensome task to another. Having impact, and leading a purposeful and “meaningful” life, first requires figuring out what unique gifts we have to offer the world. For we all have different strengths, and different gifts to offer. I respect Albert Schweitzer, who went to medical school in his 40s and then spent most of his remaining years providing health care to poor communities in Africa. But I can’t stand the sight of blood. I’d make a lousy doctor. And while the advances in human rights by leaders such as Mandela and Lincoln are beacons of light in a sometimes dark world, so is the poetry of Maya Angelou and the music of George Frideric Handel. Humans need more than one kind of food to thrive.

What’s more, if an individual sense of meaning is no more than a squishy, fleeting emotion focused on making ourselves feel good, then how do we explain Viktor Frankl’s powerful observations from the concentration camps of World War II?  Frankl, a Jewish Austrian psychiatrist who survived four different concentration camps during the war, observed that those who survived were the individuals who had a strong belief that they needed to survive. Not for themselves; self-preservation is actually a surprisingly weak motive, when it comes to enduring pain for any length of time. And not even for some big social good. But because of a someone or something else; some very personal unfinished task, tie, or responsibility that meant something to them, and for which they believed they needed to survive. As Frankl put it, we can endure almost any what, if have a clear understanding of why.

The power that a strong sense of meaning creates–regardless of its origin–is anything but fleeting, lightweight, or squishy. Frankl’s book Man’s Search For Meaning, based on what he observed and learned in the camps, had such impact that it’s still in print today. And Frankl spent the rest of his professional life helping people come to terms with a wide range of suffering by helping them find that sense of meaning in their suffering and their lives.

I don’t think those concentration camp prisoners were consciously searching for a sense of meaning. Frankl simply observed that those who had it were able to find the strength to survive–regardless of where that sense of meaning came from. Likewise, I think many of us stumble upon a sense of meaning. We–like Mandela, Lincoln, or any number of others–take on something because we believe it’s important, and only later realize that we feel very satisfied with how we’re spending our days. It’s only if we look deeper that we realize that our sense of fulfillment or satisfaction stems from a sense that what we’re devoting ourselves to matters.

Sometimes, however, we wake up and realize just the opposite. We feel drained, because we realize that we don’t believe what we’re doing is important, or matters. Even if we’re making a lot of money, or are receiving a lot of public acclaim for doing it. So what then? That’s when you tend to hear people talk about wanting more meaning in their lives. They want to feel as if what they’re committing to is important. Makes a difference. Matters.

But how to do you achieve that sense, if you don’t have it? Sometimes, harnessing the power of meaning can be as simple as reframing how a person or team views what they do. But other times it can take a bit of searching for someone to find a new direction or path that fits that criteria. For some people, those religious or civic structures Brooks talks about can help in that search. But it’s not the only way a person can find a lasting, deep, and powerful sense of meaning in how they engage in the world.

The initial steps might be fueled by a conscious search for meaning. Or, they might be sparked by an outward desire for something else (to keep that drug dealer out of the neighborhood, right a social wrong, become a parent, become a musician, or minister to the poor, the sick, and the homeless). Either way, it’s what we find that’s the magic key. We find a job, career, pursuit, cause, or goal that–for whatever reason–feels meaningful and important. And so we commit. We find ourselves willing and able to take on the hardships along the way. And one day, we wake up and find that we no longer feel drained. We feel fulfilled. And if we look deeper, we realize it’s because we believe that what we’re working on matters.

Should we worry that what matters to one person might be art, while to another it’s raising children, and to another it’s social justice? I don’t think so. The world needs many things: beauty, music, compassion, strength, justice, and even well-raised children who will become contributing members of society as adults. There’s certainly enough room and need for everyone to find their own niche to work on. I’d rather have people working with passion on something than sitting back passively, working on nothing besides their own material pleasure and gain.

If a desire for meaning gets someone to search for, and then commit to, something that involves giving of their best self to make a positive difference to others in the world, we all benefit. If the people we work with, or who work for us, believe that what they’re doing is worth their best effort, because it matters, then what we can accomplish together expands tremendously.  If the individuals themselves also benefit–well, that’s all the better. A win-win.

Where, why, or how people start doesn’t strike me as all that important. It’s where they end up that matters.