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Something I've heard from more the theistic types sometimes is without God or an afterlife, what's the point of anything? If one day you'll die, everyone you ever knew or will know or who remembers you will die, the sun will explode and the universe will end and erase everything, why does anything matter?
I played a video game recently that examines this exact topic, but it was as good a philosophical piece of media as I've ever seen.
SPOILERS FOR THE OUTER WILDS! I highly suggest anyone interested in such things plays it themselves and stops reading.
A brief setup, the premise of the game is its a puzzle exploration game where you are in a time loop. Every 22 minutes the sun goes supernova and you fly around your solar system in your species early space program trying to figure out what's going on. You remember everything from each loop but (almost) nobody else does. There was some alien civilization before you in your system that all died out while looking for the "eye of the universe" which they believed to be older than the universe itself.
As you travel and explore the solar system it becomes apparent that it isn't JUST your sun going supernova...the universe is dying. Throughout the 22 loop stars slowly explode and disappear from the sky.
There is a conversation with an character in the game that I think really contextualizes the point the game is making. You meet another explorer sent out to map the stars. When you first talk to them early in the loop he notes a lot of stars are going supernova. Then they start to become concerned as more and more stars disappear as a faster rate. With your knowledge of the time loop you can tell them the universe is dying. At first they are distraught, and exclaims all their work was for nothing. Then...they gather themselves and if you talk to them again they say this;
And you can just sit, have a nice moment with Chert as they play their little drum and keep them company as the stars go out and your sun collapses then explodes.
Eventually you solve all the puzzles and get to the "eye of the universe". When you enter it you go through a weird interstellar like experience where you gather all your friends and fellow astronaut explorers around a campfire and just play a song together. And you realize there is NOTHING you can do. Not only can you not stop your solar system being destroyed...you can't stop the entire universe ending either.
And so you sit at the campfire with your friends and just watch and wait until it takes you too. Then the game ends. Credits roll. After a few minutes "14.3 billion years later" appear on the screen and you see a solar system similar but different to your old one with a new civilization excited to explore the stars.
I really like the conversation with Chert. It doesn't progress the game in any way. You don't unlock a new piece of the puzzle. And in the end of the game you realize that everything you were doing, solving all the puzzles, trying to save everyone, was pointless anyway. Even Chert won't remember you talked to him or that you kept him company in the next loop. But I sat with him anyway.
The point was the experience. Small moments of human connections with the characters. Going to a planet just to explore there and not even to solve a puzzle. Sitting and looking at the stars and not worrying about how much time you have left in your loop. The game frequently forces you to slow down. To not race towards the end or singularly focus on solving the next puzzle. Sometimes by choice and sometimes not (there are many temporal puzzles that require waiting), you just sit there and are just present, listening to the soundtrack and watching a sunrise.
And so in the face of oblivion, the erasure of everything you've done, your entire species, and any marks they might have made on the universe the game shows you how to find meaning in the meaninglessness. It is a very melancholy game, but it certainly isn't nihilistic. I think it has a fantastic philosophy for how to process not only death, but the magnitude of universe we live in and our very small cozy place in it.
I played a video game recently that examines this exact topic, but it was as good a philosophical piece of media as I've ever seen.
SPOILERS FOR THE OUTER WILDS! I highly suggest anyone interested in such things plays it themselves and stops reading.
A brief setup, the premise of the game is its a puzzle exploration game where you are in a time loop. Every 22 minutes the sun goes supernova and you fly around your solar system in your species early space program trying to figure out what's going on. You remember everything from each loop but (almost) nobody else does. There was some alien civilization before you in your system that all died out while looking for the "eye of the universe" which they believed to be older than the universe itself.
As you travel and explore the solar system it becomes apparent that it isn't JUST your sun going supernova...the universe is dying. Throughout the 22 loop stars slowly explode and disappear from the sky.
There is a conversation with an character in the game that I think really contextualizes the point the game is making. You meet another explorer sent out to map the stars. When you first talk to them early in the loop he notes a lot of stars are going supernova. Then they start to become concerned as more and more stars disappear as a faster rate. With your knowledge of the time loop you can tell them the universe is dying. At first they are distraught, and exclaims all their work was for nothing. Then...they gather themselves and if you talk to them again they say this;
And you can just sit, have a nice moment with Chert as they play their little drum and keep them company as the stars go out and your sun collapses then explodes.
Eventually you solve all the puzzles and get to the "eye of the universe". When you enter it you go through a weird interstellar like experience where you gather all your friends and fellow astronaut explorers around a campfire and just play a song together. And you realize there is NOTHING you can do. Not only can you not stop your solar system being destroyed...you can't stop the entire universe ending either.
And so you sit at the campfire with your friends and just watch and wait until it takes you too. Then the game ends. Credits roll. After a few minutes "14.3 billion years later" appear on the screen and you see a solar system similar but different to your old one with a new civilization excited to explore the stars.
I really like the conversation with Chert. It doesn't progress the game in any way. You don't unlock a new piece of the puzzle. And in the end of the game you realize that everything you were doing, solving all the puzzles, trying to save everyone, was pointless anyway. Even Chert won't remember you talked to him or that you kept him company in the next loop. But I sat with him anyway.
The point was the experience. Small moments of human connections with the characters. Going to a planet just to explore there and not even to solve a puzzle. Sitting and looking at the stars and not worrying about how much time you have left in your loop. The game frequently forces you to slow down. To not race towards the end or singularly focus on solving the next puzzle. Sometimes by choice and sometimes not (there are many temporal puzzles that require waiting), you just sit there and are just present, listening to the soundtrack and watching a sunrise.
And so in the face of oblivion, the erasure of everything you've done, your entire species, and any marks they might have made on the universe the game shows you how to find meaning in the meaninglessness. It is a very melancholy game, but it certainly isn't nihilistic. I think it has a fantastic philosophy for how to process not only death, but the magnitude of universe we live in and our very small cozy place in it.
and please note that the poem is translated by me and not by an expert...)
