I have always been drawn to the quote by Friedrich Nietzsche that “Freedom is to struggle with no hope for reward.” There a great deal of courage in that line. There is comfort in the notion that something can us keep us going, even when the circumstances seem insurmountable. As I have maneuvered the various bumps and tight spots that invariably arise in life, I have often recalled that mantra to fuel the sort of “real time resilience” described by Reivich and Shatte (2002). But is Nietzsche really describing what is going on when we act with courageous persistence? Or is the line’s existential heroism just poetic hyperbole?
I have done many things in my career as a lawyer. By far the most rewarding has been when I assisted people fleeing torture in their homeland. Hope is certainly central to each case. For example, I may hope to convince the asylum officer that my client was tortured because of his ethnicity, and not just to extract money from him. If I can, I can assure that he will not be sent back to the people trying to kill him. However, while these victories ARE victories, at times I feel like a wide-eyed tourist quietly pressing coins into the palm of a starving child. The relief is singular and temporal. But when I lift my gaze from that child’s eyes I find that I am at the center of a mob of hungry children: each one desperate; each one in need. And despite my struggling for one person here or there, I become conscious of a human suffering that washes out in every direction beyond a comprehensible horizon. What can one person do? Can we sustain the “struggle with no hope for reward”? Maybe, for a little while. But most of us need something to keep us going.
Nietzsche’s line offers a heroic vision. However, as much as I am drawn to it, it distracts from the true fount of sustainable effort. Individuals experience hope when they have an expectation that a desired goal can be achieved (Snyder, Rand, & Sigmon, 2002). It requires 1) goals we wish to attain, 2) beliefs about how to attain those goals (“pathway thoughts”) and 3) a belief in our ability to successfully follow the chosen pathway (“agency thoughts”) (Snyder, Rand, & Sigmon, 2002).
It is easy to feel a paralyzing hopelessness in the shadow of epic traumas: A nation torturing its citizens; child mortality; global hunger. There is little that one person can do. So when faced with seemingly insurmountable conditions, the key to sustained action (and greater well-being) is to locate the opportunities for hope within those conditions. While not denying the magnitude of what one is facing, having the mindfulness to ask “what can I hope for”?
In this way, hope is dynamic. The “reward” that we hope for is going to be different for each person, and in each circumstance. So while I cannot stop a nation from torturing its people, I can help one person flee to safety. I can help him reunite with his family in a secure place. He can help inform others about the crisis in his country, and attract attention and aid. As we discuss together the things that we can hope for and can affect, our energy increases and our action is sustained.
So freedom is not to struggle without hope for reward. Freedom is to find what you can hope for, and what you can control, despite an appearance of hopelessness.
Feudtner, C. (2005) Hope and the prospects of healing at the end of life. The Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine. 11: 1, pp. S23 – S30.
Reivich, K, & Shattẻ, A. (2002). The Resilience Factor: 7 Keys to Finding Your Inner Strength and Overcoming Life’s Hurdles. New York: Broadway Books.
Snyder, C.R., Rand, K.L., and Sigmon, D. R. (2002) Hope theory: A member of the positive psychology family. In C. R. Snyder & S. J. Lopez (Eds.). Handbook of Positive Psychology. 257-267. New York: Oxford University Press.
J. Bond Francisco 1890s courtesy of freeparking