The Emergence of Modern Horror

This overly optimistic perspective on modernity, which renders philosophical questioning as impolite and ungrateful, actually reveals a corporatized, self-centered narcissism that underscores the necessity for broader philosophical inquiry.

The narrative of later modernity is largely a story of emerging horror. The first signs that something was wrong in a godless modern age appeared during the English Industrial Revolution, which clashed with the optimistic discourse on maximizing happiness. With minimal government oversight, children toiled in perilous environments, operating heavy machinery with scant training or laboring in mines. While overall living standards in industrialized societies improved, so too did the population of meat consumers and the automation of work, trends that do not guarantee positive outcomes.

The sinking of the Titanic dealt a significant blow to secular utopian ideals, as it became evident that reason could not simply replace God to ease our existence through technology. The devastation of two world wars further mocked that assumption.

Modernity did provide convenience, especially for the affluent who had thrived well before the Scientific Revolution. It also alleviated some hardships for many, lifting millions out of poverty and granting middle classes access to opportunities and entertainments once exclusive to the wealthy.

However, beneath this veneer of progress lies a troubling reality: the gadgets we cherish are produced by workers treated as expendable as the machines they operate. The food nourishing our growing populations comes at the expense of suffering livestock, while urban expansion and agriculture devastate biodiversity and contribute to pollution and climate change. We are accountable for the sixth mass extinction in the history of life.

Early existential thinkers like Søren Kierkegaard, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Fyodor Dostoevsky scrutinized the implications of modernity, with later existentialists such as Martin Heidegger and Jean-Paul Sartre echoing their concerns in the wake of the world wars. Nietzsche famously proclaimed the “death of God” as a cultural disaster, creating a void only a superhuman species could fill. Sadly, the comforts of modern life threaten to democratize a decadence previously confined to royalty or the wealthiest one percent. As consumers, we are conditioned to avoid skepticism, to strive for success, and to live without questioning the meaning of our existence.

Heidegger warned that we risk becoming inauthentic beings, sidestepping the existential realities of life. Rather than confronting the implications of our choices in light of our inevitable mortality, we allow ourselves to be guided by others, functioning as if we were mere machines. We acquiesce to the artificial environments we create, allowing our own creations to dehumanize us.

Lovecraft's Cosmic Horror

The author most explicitly linking modernity to horror is H.P. Lovecraft, a pioneer of weird fiction from the early twentieth century who developed the concept of cosmic horror. Prior to Lovecraft, horror literature often drew from Catholic, Gnostic, or Gothic traditions, depicting demons that could lead us astray and tempt us into sin, ultimately resulting in the horror of eternal separation from God's love.

Lovecraft redefined the horror genre to reflect God's apparent absence and irrelevance. In Lovecraft's mythos, scientists replace theologians as the explorers of cosmic existence, uncovering unspeakable truths about our accidental rise and our insignificance within the vast cosmos. Liberal humanists had already secularized ancient anthropocentric faiths, which had attributed human characteristics to natural forces through spirits and gods. In the modern era, the indifferent wilderness is replaced by an artificial habitat tailored to our needs.

Lovecraft's works introduce powerful alien and ancient deities as symbols that burst the bubble of modern complacency. The wilderness reemerges within our urban centers as scientists attempt to construct the cosmic context that renders all our secular achievements as mere childish tantrums. We learn, for example, that immortal, all-powerful aliens engineered our species to serve them, granting us a brief reprieve while they vacationed for eons. The return of the alien god Cthulhu swiftly reasserts dominance, shattering our sanity.

This strange pantheon mirrors a disenchanted nature. Lovecraft's alien deities are indifferent rather than malevolent; morality, as we understand it, is irrelevant in the cosmic realm. Life evolves within the universe, confronting nature's intrinsic absurdity. There is no supreme being underpinning existence, only the amoral forces and materials science describes. The objective reality starkly contrasts with the subjective values we cling to, which are mere distortions of our true standing. We cling to these values like children to security blankets or as ancient peoples clung to their deities.

Reevaluating the Relevance of Horror

With this background established, let’s reconsider the significance of horror in philosophy. The inquiry can be framed as two interrelated questions:

1. Is there a necessary mental state for living well?
2. Is horror essential to achieving that mental state?

The first question addresses whether there exists a higher calling that imbues our actions with significance, which could be conceptualized as a zeitgeist, human potentiality, existential authenticity, honor, or a cosmic role we ought to fulfill.

The late-modern or "postmodern" skepticism might suggest that this question is resolved negatively: all truths are subjective and relative. We alone determine meaning, and our perceptions can shift. Furthermore, there is no vantage point beyond our own, and the universe remains indifferent to our actions. We are the only observers.

Nevertheless, the notion of enlightenment persists, even among the most secular and progressive circles. Those who critique capitalist and non-democratic institutions still assert that justice matters, that microaggressions and offensive humor are unacceptable, and that standards of social justice apply universally.

Claiming that our values are “subjective” and “relative” rather than objective and inherent does not necessarily lead to nihilism or apathy regarding how we should live. While modernity has stripped away the intuitiveness of traditional theistic beliefs, it does not imply that the answers to our inquiries are arbitrary.

For example, it appears significant whether an individual is mired in the past or adheres to what philosopher GWF Hegel termed the present “world-historical stage.” Even if history is self-created rather than directed by a higher power, there are objective milestones that either enhance our reputation or cast doubt on our value as a species. The expansion of human populations exemplifies one such objective measure, along with globalization, computational efficiency (Moore’s law), and technological empowerment. We can choose to acknowledge these trends or remain oblivious, and our lifestyles can either embody outdated paradigms or signal prophetic insights into our trajectory.

The second question implies that, considering the cosmic backdrop, there is something grotesque about a modern social or personal identity that is overly optimistic. Works by Franz Kafka, “The Stepford Wives,” “The Matrix,” and “Westworld” articulate this suspicion that our obsession with consumption reduces us to mere commodities. Edvard Munch's painting "The Scream" encapsulates the modern anxiety often hidden beneath our superficial concerns and self-deceptions.

We develop a false sense of significance, losing sight of the bigger picture, and as scientific understanding expands to encompass the Big Bang, black holes, and quantum mechanics, we paradoxically find ourselves in shrinking social spheres. Our exploration of available knowledge diminishes, as our behaviors become monotonous, and our sensibilities dulled by the emptiness of digital distractions.

The value of human existence risks becoming as shallow as the goods we consume. (Indeed, we are what we "eat.") We identify with curated personas showcased on social media, as these identities serve as islands of self-created purpose in an indifferent, dehumanizing environment.

Thus, an appreciation for modern horror might signal that one grasps the historical actions of our species, the existential stakes in our decisions, and the nature of the world, where we fit within it, and how we ought to act in response.

Enlightened Theodicy

The most constructive approach to addressing the relevance of horror may involve contemplating the more favorable alternative offered by Eastern philosophies and religions, such as Buddhism, which provide tranquility and contentment.

We need not delve into the surface-level religious alternatives to modern horror, as modernity has largely diminished their significance. Nor should we take for granted how modernity is presented, as the advantages of freedom are ironically undermined by the darker aspects of modernity, including the threat of horror when confronted with unfiltered reality. The sword of reason that vanquished the gods may well turn against us.

Long before the revolutions championing individual rights, ascetic monks distanced themselves from the collective delusions that constitute conventional wisdom, engaging with their consciousness through meditation or entheogens, ultimately discovering inner peace or nirvana.

The choice thus lies between two visions of enlightenment: one that envisions a harmonious cosmic balance, as in the unity of Self and World (Atman and Brahman), and another that denies the existence of a neat theodicy, a definitive harmony to reassure the knowledgeable. The question is whether the accumulation of experience and reasoned thought are indeed worthwhile or if the human journey is a Faustian bargain. Are we wise in our pursuit of Luciferian potential to uncover the universe's secrets, or is the universe mocking our vanity? Are we Homo sapiens or Homo fatuus (foolish beings)?

Let us set aside abstract considerations and focus on the issue of suffering. Life's evolution is a magnificent process, yet it is also a ruthless one. Living organisms rely on one another for sustenance, which is why the very notion of individual rights feels almost miraculous. From a genetic standpoint, bodies serve as vessels for safeguarding and transmitting genetic material. However, these living entities are also exploited by one another. Predators utilize prey for nourishment, and even herbivores depend on plants for survival.

Organisms parasitize each other in myriad ways, leading not only to immense suffering within the animal kingdom but also to the absurd, amoral spectacle that characterizes life's diverse species. The countless acts of killing are appalling, as are the mating rituals, the monopolization of mates within hierarchies, and the numerous instances of betrayal and savagery.

There is valor in natural competition and cooperation, yet an overwhelming sense of anticlimax arises from the role of chance in life's events. How often has one creature rescued its companion from peril, only to be undone by fortune moments later? How rarely does poetic justice prevail “under the sun,” as Ecclesiastes remarks?

What then is the enlightened response to this apparent imbalance, this profound embarrassment in the manner life has propagated, given the universe's indifference to its struggles? Should we dismiss this humiliation as mere illusion, employing mental strategies to cultivate peace by adopting a nonchalant attitude? Or should we acknowledge the horror, despair, disgust, awe, and grim determination that highlight the genuine conflict between natural reality and the clever, indignant beings we have proven ourselves to be?