You know the people. Indeed, you might be one of them. I am speaking about all of us and the objectives we pursue. The list includes items like money, power, status, beauty, attention, control, and fame.
According to Yuval Harari, the historian, author, and public intellectual, we are missing the point. He doesn’t talk in terms of purpose. Rather, he believes much of humanity views existence as a story.
Their story.
We search for our part in a play, looking for the musical score we perform and the lines we must speak.
It might not be in a book. Anywhere we think the answer can be found is acceptable. This could put us on a ball field, in school, raising a child, formulating a meal recipe, or serving in an orchestra or the military.
It might be something we discover within a religious faith.
The historian suggests reality is not about the drama or the character we play in it. We fail to understand life when we close our eyes to much of the anguish embedded in our world, and produce the very pain we wish to bypass.
Thus, ignorance is the cause of many predicaments, according to Harari.
Ignorance of reality.
We brush aside cautionary information we should ponder. Think of the times we cannot bear to face the events and choices generating discomfort.
Paradoxically, by wearing a blindfold while pursuing our goals, we increase our chances of hurting ourselves, our acquaintances, our family, and those who are different from us.
Looking is inconvenient. We decide to cross out the difficult parts in the play’s manuscript. Alcohol and drugs are available to serve as masks. TV is one of the endless distractions.
By avoiding what the mirror shows and turning away from careful, honest consideration of how we cause injury, we do not recognize or acknowledge our contribution to pain. This leaves us unable to remedy either our own misfortune or that of others.
As Harari notes, “We can’t fix something we are busy ignoring.”
To eliminate this tendency, the alternative is to engage in human life rather than hiding from significant parts of it. The unpleasant wisdom it offers begs for attention.
We hope to avoid pain, but discover that anguish does not obey our attempt to flee from it. As Henry Fielding said, “When you close the door to nature, she comes in at the window.”
Satisfaction in a life well-lived is the result of triumphing over its difficulties.
What is needed is the realization that not all unhappiness is inevitable. Our complex and potential difficulties can often be relieved by acknowledging our condition honestly, so we can take them on and improve ourselves.
Here is another hard truth. We can control, to some degree, the present moment and our own minds, but little more. The past is unchangeable, and the distant horizon offers no guarantees, no matter our plans, efforts, and ingenuity.
Not even the greatest and most powerful leaders do better. We grasp all too well the history of their mistakes and the limitations and unexpected consequences of their decisions.
The fix, Harari might tell us, is to work within the terms life allows, not denying them, not ignoring them, and not running from them.
This includes the most inescapable fact of living.
We age, we die, and everyone precious to us passes away.
Our end arrives at an uncertain time, while attempts to live forever have their shortcomings. Some of the wealthiest men want to reach eternity, an expensive way of denying death.
Downloading their consciousness to a computer becomes a goal. Moving to another planet is planned should the world become more unfriendly.
No wonder some of them build rockets.
No wonder we try to hide or alter the evidence of aging.
A number among us consider bringing forth children as our posterity, perhaps winning a Nobel Prize, or having our name in a record book, or on a building. Thus, we hope to be remembered, reaching a form of immortality.
Are the names of the following men familiar?
- Physics: Charles Édouard Guillaume
- Chemistry: Walther Hermann Nernst
- Medicine: August Krogh
- Literature: Knut Hamsun
- Peace: Léon Bourgeois
Each won a Nobel Prize in 1920.
Harari is not alone in pointing out our tendency to evade the reality of death, accepting it only as an abstraction somewhere in the distance, and trying to dodge thinking about it. Ernest Becker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning book, The Denial of Death, deals with the subject.
Becker wrote it over 50 years ago.
Bottom line: Yuval Harari believes increased contentment comes from accepting the realistic conditions of life, thereby increasing our chances of reducing our pain and the suffering we cause.
Game on.
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The first photo is a Supercell in Lubbock, Texas, in June 2025. It is the masterful creation of Laura Hedien, with her permission: Laura Hedien Official Website.
Next comes an Eharo mask from Papua New Guinea. The eharo masks were worn during ritual dances, before formal sacred rituals. They were intended to be humorous figures, dancing with groups of women to the amusement of all. This particular item is in the Muséum de Toulouse collection and was sourced from Wikipedia Commons.
While most of your readers probably do not recognize the names of the Nobel prize winners today, that does not negate the contributions each of these individuals made to their field, contributions which the future generations built upon and and the world is better for. The end goal is not to be remembered for ever but to have mattered, to have contributed in whatever way possible, to leave your corner of the world a little better, and to send out ripples into the future we will not live to see. Yes, we do run from the inevitable conclusion, and the harshness of life. We deny death. That’s built in, I believe, to our human psyche. The “inescapable fact of living”, however, is exactly what gives life its meaning.
I agree, Evelyn, that in our best moments we do some good in repairing the world. I think what Harari is saying, in part, is that if we wish to be remembered as a big part in an important story, we misunderstand the way the world usually works. Therefore, he would agree with you.
Interestingly, the Iliad has a few words to say about the value of stories. The great heroes of war didn’t believe they would go to any heaven we might recognize as a worthwhile afterlife. Nor did they expect books (which didn’t yet exist) to be written about them. Thus, they hoped to obtain the spoils of war, and that stories about their valor would be told and retold over the years, long past the time of their demise. This was the form of immortality they valued.
As to death, it helps to recognize that in denying death we can do some real and lasting damage to the world. Ernest Becker has lots to say about that. I am sure you can think of some of the richest people in the world who have already demonstrated the harm they can do. As to your last sentence, I don’t know what Harari might say, but I agree with you 100%. Thank you for your thoughtful words.
Wow, a beautiful way to point us to reality, Dr. Stein. “What is needed is the realization that not all unhappiness is inevitable. ” – Fascinating. And the encouragement to live within the terms life allows? That is a good reality check. Thank you for this thought-provoking essay!
Thank you, Wynne. Harari’s message is indeed encouraging in the way you have described. He recognizes that we have some (limited) agency, and that self-reflection can be helpful if it helps us reduce the suffering we bring into our lives and those of others.
I like how you tackle life without forcing it into some tidy, one-size-fits-all ‘purpose.’ Your thoughts on aging, loss, and how our sense of purpose shifts over time really hit home for me. It’s comforting to think meaning comes from small acts of curiosity, kindness, and engagement, not some big achievement. Thanks for putting words to that tension so many of us feel but haven’t found the words to say out loud.
I am glad the essay was helpful, Erin. As to the things we don’t say, I have reached the point where I can be fairly shameless in bringing up uncomfortable topics. As Harari said, “We can’t fix something we are busy ignoring.” Thank you for your encouragement.
“We can’t fix something we are busy ignoring.” Amen to that! The uncomfortable topics are the ones we need to be talking about, so keep it up!
Great piece, Dr. Stein. It made me think of the line from the line Robin Williams delivers in The Dead Poets Society: “That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”
― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society
One of the lines that most resonated with me is: “We can’t fix something we are busy ignoring.” Being a bystander may be safer when we see something wrong going on, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right action.
“Being a bystander may be safer when we see something wrong going on, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right action.” You are absolutely on target there, Pete. Since I am probably the only person not to have seen “The Dead Poets Society,” I appreciate the Williams quote, as well. Thank you.
I have always seen life as a story, with chapters of different lengths, each one flowing into the next, and I was often surprised by how and when and why they ended/flowed/transitioned, it is only in the looking back process that it all became clear.
I actually used stories a great deal in my clinical psychology practice. Stories have a considerable draw, as Harari, said, and I found that sometimes people could be helped if they were open to recognizing that there were multiple stories that might apply to their lives. If they could be led to reframe the way they thought about their history, it often made a big difference. And, as you say, significant surprises and changes are possible. Thank you, Beth.
“Looking is inconvenient”…three words with oomph and impact for me this morning. Stay engaged, aware and unified. Especially now. Thank you, Dr. Stein. ❤️
Thanks, Vicki. Yes, we need to keep looking. It is the only path to learning and not giving in to those whose eyes are wide open and contributing to unhappiness. Be well, my friend.
The conclusion: “Yuval Harari believes increased contentment comes from accepting the realistic conditions of life, thereby increasing our chances of reducing our pain and the suffering we cause,” has me reflecting on this. I always want to be informed and though I dearly love graciousness and diplomacy, I find myself bristling when people mask their worry or pain rather than honestly revealing it. I wish we could respect and trust each other more so that we could share the burdens and increase the chance of helping one another and ourselves.
I agree, Lori. There seems to be the expectation that when a person is asked, “How are you?,” the answer should be some version of buoyant. Getting to know the individual, assuming they are neither perpetually sunny or atypically direct in revealing how they feel, tells us more. In the times we live, however, many who might otherwise be open tend to steer the conversation toward a safe place. Nice to know that you want something more. Kudos!
Thank you, Dr. Stein!
Yuval Harari is a man after my own heart. I totally agree with him that “We can’t fix something we are busy ignoring.” That goes for all aspects of our lives. I believe that in facing the reality of my life, with all of its ups and downs, I’m better able to prepare for and deal with adversity. Thanks for sharing.
I should not be surprised at your response, Rosaliene. Your blog reflects your admirable courage in taking on the most important issues of our day and our lives. That is why I read it. Thank you, Rosaliene.
Your post reminded me of two things. First, the people who don’t accept the reality of what is happening in this country, which could have been avoided if citizens were fully engaged instead of trying to ignore the history and background of certain characters leading this country. We can’t fix the past, but we can definitely face reality and vote accordingly to build a better future.
The second thing was about the consequences of not accepting death as unavoidable. In the last few weeks, I have been discussing estate planning with my wife. At the same time, we see around us family and friends who are not willing to discuss these matters. In a few of those cases, their ignoring death as a fact will impact the lives of others, as family members are struggling to help their loved ones.
In one particular case, a daughter has been trying for a year to get her mom’s affairs in order, as she is in a home and has lost all her faculties. The daughter is suffering immensely because of decades of her mom ignoring reality. Not only is the daughter suffering, but her marriage and children are affected as well. At some point, I’ll be facing the same situation with my mom.
Your bottom line, “contentment comes from accepting the realistic conditions of life, thereby increasing our chances of reducing our pain and the suffering we cause,” goes to the heart of this problem. Accepting reality and making a few preparations before leaving this world will not only reduce pain and suffering for the departing soul, but also for those who bear the tremendous responsibility of caring for them.
A thoughtful response, Edward, echoing and expanding what Lori wrote. Let me add one note. A couple of years ago I decided to tell everyone I am close to that I appreciated them, including the reasons why. I also apologized for my failings and specified the harm I did.
During the years of my clinical practice, I heard many people who struggled with the words they or a parent had not said. Too often the words were simple, but unspoken: “I love you.”
Thank you, Dr. Stein. What you did was impactful, and I’m sure it touched the hearts of those on the receiving end. I’m also confident that they learned from the experience, and some of them will do the same.
Those words and acts of affection can be so hard for some people to say or do. For those of us who didn’t receive much of that growing up, it’s necessary to work on breaking those barriers so we don’t repeat the cycle. I hug, kiss, and say “I love you” to my son every day. He’s almost 18, but I want him to know that it’s normal for a father to express love that way toward his children.
You are doing him a great favor, Edward. I started the practice of hugging my dad long before he died. As you might know from my posts, I did a four hour video life history with him when he was 75. I still watch it from time to time, now 40 years after he and I did it.
That’s awesome. I tell you, a hug seems like a simple thing, but what a powerful expression it is.
We’re all part of a rich tapestry that shows many images, many scenes. No stitch or thread is more important than the other, we’re all in it, together.
Beautifully said, Tamara. Thank you.