Misanthropy and Compassion

The misanthrope, by Peter Bruegel the Elder

I went to bed early and didn't watch the Brazil vs. Haiti match on July 19th. I was fast asleep when my cell phone rang; at the time, I didn't even realize it was the Civil Defense alert tone, a tone I’d heard a few times before during dangerous, heavy rains. It briefly crossed my mind that it might have been some crazy alert about a Brazil goal against Haiti. But since it was the middle of the night and the match was already over, I realized that wasn't it. The message simply read "Misantropi4." I glanced at it and went back to sleep. My girlfriend got it too, so did my parents and several friends. It turns out they investigated and discovered that someone unknown had used the login credentials of Civil Defense agents from the middle of nowhere to blast that "misanthropy" message out to everyone. Wow, such a rebel! Anyway, I went back to sleep without giving it much thought. It was only in the days that followed that I started piecing the details together. That’s when I saw people and news outlets discussing the concept of misanthropy. They churned out all the usual chatter that follows whenever a word like that emerges from humanity's collective shadows to give us a scare.

What is misanthropy? Simply put, it is a term combining the Greek words misos (hatred) and anthropos (human), signifying hatred or aversion toward human beings. Schopenhauer, whom I constantly speak about and will continue to discuss until the day I cease to exist, is considered a prime example of a misanthropic thinker. Misanthropy is not the same as philosophical pessimism, though the two can go hand in hand; they are not necessarily mutually exclusive. In fact, despite his misanthropic attitude toward humanity, Schopenhauer regarded compassion, the recognizing of oneself in the suffering of another, as the true foundation of ethics. Whereas for Kant it is practical reason that dictates what we should consider ethical or moral, for Schopenhauer the foundation is not reason, but the sentiment of compassion. The fact that a sentiment forms the basis of what we deem right or wrong is does not invalidate ethics in Schopenhauer’s view. For him, feelings are essential to grounding a genuine morality. Before Kant, Hume recognized this but did not go far enough for Schopenhauer’s liking: Hume lacked the justification of an immanent metaphysical connection between the "me" that suffers and the "others" who suffer.

Since, for Schopenhauer, the innermost substrate of all things is what he calls the will, and since this will is the same in me as it is in other beings capable of suffering, the connection is established. Contrary to Schopenhauer, however, I would argue that this underlying metaphysical reality need not actually exist, even though I concede that there is likely a single origin for everything behind all phenomena. After all, according to contemporary cosmological models, the observable universe in its infancy was smaller than a subatomic particle, on the order of 10⁻³⁵ meters. Its density approached infinity. This means that the particles that make up your body were once smashed together with the particles of the most distant galaxy the James Webb Space Telescope can photograph. If the entire, almost unfathomable vastness that constitutes today's universe was once compressed together, then we have all been part of the same heap since the very beginning, regardless of what you choose to call it: the will, the primordial one, or whatever else. Whether we like it or not, we are linked in some way to the victims of the cannibalism, dismemberment, and slaughter that occur in the world's ghettos. Compassion is not something magical or illusory; it is the deep, internal recognition that the other creature is the same as us.

Yet that does not prevent us from seeing in humanity all the flaws we see in ourselves. Hence Schopenhauer’s aversion to mankind, even as his entire ethical system is grounded in compassion. A misanthrope who fails to recognize himself in others is less a misanthrope and more a "self supremacist." He believes every other human being is a piece of shit, except for himself, whom nature miraculously spared from the rest, and that they deserve nothing but to wallow in the muck. He alone is endowed with supreme intellect and virtues no one else possesses, he alone is truly human, or perhaps more human than human. A misanthrope who feels no pity for others, despite his anger or loathing, is like one of those petty internet rebels who justify, or even think it’s cool, when socially inept losers carry out massacres at schools or other public places. They are the very embodiment of the pathetic, the dim-witted, and the bestial, nothing more. Such people often appropriate terms and philosophies without understanding their actual meaning, simply to validate their fantasies of self-supremacy.

A recent example was a Brazilian "red-pill" virgin on Twitter who, about two years ago, wrote in his profile that he was, all at once, a Nietzschean Übermensch, a Nazi, a "Stoic," and an "antinatalist." After a few weeks, he removed the term "antinatalist" from his bio himself, most likely because he had been heavily mocked and torn apart by neo-Nazis, Nietzscheans, and Stoics who were more experienced than him, and to whom he deferred. No neo-Nazi, Nietzschean, or Stoic who is consistent with the principles of their respective worldviews would ever describe themselves as an "antinatalist." Only a brainless person who refuses to read or study, someone without real friends, an internet virgin, would do such a thing. And that is exactly what he did, until he was reprimanded by people higher up in the hierarchy of those ideologies and philosophies. Regarding the Stoics, I don't think it is necessary to point out just how ridiculous that angry kid's attempt to link them to antinatalism was; but let's talk about Nietzschean philosophy and Nazism.

From his first book, The Birth of Tragedy, to his last, Ecce Homo, Nietzsche could never be described as a pessimist in the Schopenhauerian sense, let alone as an antinatalist in any sense. Quite the contrary: his guiding principle is that life is the yardstick by which everything must be measured. For him, being anti-life, condemning existence, is a sign of error and weakness. As for Nazism, the case is even more extreme: while the Nazi regime committed genocide against those it deemed inferior, it promoted forced procreation among those it deemed superior. The philosophical pessimism that rejects existence, and gives rise to what is now called antinatalis, is essentially grounded in a universal, extreme compassion. It seeks to spare other sentient beings from a meaningless existence whose immutable characteristic is friction. Harboring enough compassion to reject reproduction out of pity for people who do not even exist has nothing to do with the pseudo-ideals of internet rebels, disaffected types who use as profile pictures images of medieval knights, anime characters, Cartman from South Park, or Rick from Rick and Morty.

It is not only Schopenhauer who is considered a misanthrope, Cioran is as well. And Cioran himself wrote the following in his Notebooks:

Given what I know and what I feel, I could not have brought someone into the world without falling into total contradiction with myself, without being intellectually dishonest, and without committing a moral crime.

Cioran echoes Schopenhauer’s philosophy as expressed, for example, in the famous passage from Parerga and Paralipomena:

Let us imagine for a moment that the act of procreation were neither a necessity nor accompanied by intense pleasure, but rather a matter of pure rational deliberation; could the human race really continue to exist? Would everyone not feel such compassion for the coming generation that they would prefer to spare it the burden of existence — or, at the very least, shrink from assuming, in cold blood, the responsibility of imposing such a burden upon it?

As for the "misanthrope" who fancies himself an internet Knight Templar and loves to shock others, he hates himself just as he hates others. When he hurts others, whether by hurling insults or inciting massacres, he hurts himself, he devours his own flesh, yet, being a fool, he fails to realize it. They live to hate, they possess a wretched character, in the Schopenhauerian sense. They are wicked and vile, people whom Christ, the embodiment of pure selflessness and compassion, would have despised. Christ was nothing like the ridiculous Crusader-king figure those types pretend to believe in and follow while plastering "Christ is King" and "Deus Vult!" all over their social media profiles. Incidentally, another absurdity among these repulsive people is their attempt to combine Nietzsche with European Christian supremacism. Nietzsche would be pissed if he returned and saw what they had done to his philosophy — and mind you, I am no Nietzschean myself. They fancy themselves Übermenschen, yet they are the exact opposite: weaklings who wouldn't last thirty seconds in a fistfight against a handicapped person who actually lives in the real world, away from online spaces like Discord, Reddit, and 4chan. They are adolescents, even the ones who are already in their 20's.

The type of misanthrope who harbors an aversion to humanity and wishes to turn his back on it, does so not out of childish hatred or a pathetic pseudo-warrior mentality, but simply because he is weary. He does not seek to sow further chaos by hurting others, he simply does not wish to live amidst suffering. This explains why the figure in the painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, and in the modified copy by his son, Pieter Bruegel the Younger, is depicted as an ascetic, a monk. He longs to escape suffering but cannot, of course, because suffering is inescapable. The misanthrope in the Bruegel paintings feels aversion. His hatred, if one can even call it that, is not active. He is not an incel who would harm others, he's unlike those pseudo-warriors who live chronically online, spouting "red-pill" nonsense and other equally vile drivel.

Yet even this type of misanthropy, which might be described as anthropophobia, fails to bring peace. Those who adopt this attitude, the anthropophobic misanthrope, may delude themselves for a time; however, unless their mind is trained to the point where it is utterly drained of any will to live, they will continue to suffer. The reality is that while isolating oneself from humanity may offer a certain comfort, it cannot bring total peace, for the damage was done the moment we were born. Isolation does not guarantee ataraxia, tranquility of the soul, because becoming itself is friction, even in the absence of other humans. The world of becoming is affliction. it is will to manifest that cares nothing for us, even when we seek to withdraw from the world. At best, isolation offers the peace of not having to deal with others of our species, who are generally deluded. It offers the peace of not having to deal with incels who fancy themselves Nietzschean Übermenschen and Knights Templar rolled into one. Yet we must still contend with physiological needs, illnesses, and the hell that is our own mind, which is the mouthpiece of the will to live, and which will ceaselessly whisper temptations and absurdities.

But which type of misanthrope was likely responsible for hacking the Civil Defense system and sending the word "Misantropi4"— spelled with a "4" instead of an "a" at the end — to all of Brazil? I think it’s obvious. It’s that "troll" type, the chronically online type, "hue-hue" kind of guy, the sort who would define himself in absurd, contradictory ways just to seem edgy and rebellious. If he were a real misanthrope, he wouldn't go around pestering people like that. Going back to the Bruegel paintings: the misanthrope tries to escape the human world, he doesn't want to interact with the world anymore. Maybe, just maybe, this misanthrope might write some texts, and publish them. What he wouldn't do is rub his member in people's faces as if that demonstrated some kind of superiority. In reality, that would only shows how small his member is. We're talking 14 centimeters or less. And that would be fine. It’s normal for many men not to be well-endowed. It happens, and no one should be belittled for it. But don't make that everyone else's problem. If he were truly strong, an Übermensch, a warrior, he wouldn't be pestering others like a little kid.

In the Bruegel paintings, incidentally, the actual misanthrope, dressed as a monk, is pestered by one of those types, one of those dumb-eyed imbeciles who are fucking annoying, and who proceeds to steal the monk's purse. I highly recommend that you admire both paintings. In the version by Bruegel the Younger, the background scene even shows someone about to be executed, further emphasizing the wretchedness of the world. In the painting by Bruegel the Elder, there is an inscription in Flemish:

Because the world is perfidious, I am going into mourning

The misanthrope, by Peter Bruegel the Younger

The two paintings are online for the whole world to see and appreciate. Yet I bet fewer people look at them, or any painting for that matter, than waste time pestering others in ridiculous forums, whining about how women are "hypergamous," how "Western values ​​have been corrupted by postmodernity," how "we must be Templar warriors," and other absurd drivel that only brainless slugs in human form could possibly take seriously.

Anyway, I'll wrap things up here.

by Fernando Olszewski