The Misunderstanding of Nietzsche and Nihilism

Few philosophers have been as wildly misunderstood as Friedrich Nietzsche. He’s been called a nihilist, an atheist prophet, a proto-Nazi, and a champion of ruthless selfishness. In reality, Nietzsche saw nihilism not as a philosophy to embrace, but as a sickness to be overcome. To him, the death of traditional values and religion was not the end of meaning—it was the start of humanity’s greatest challenge.
Why People Think Nietzsche Was a Nihilist
Nihilism is the belief that life has no inherent meaning, value, or purpose. Nietzsche agreed that traditional sources of meaning—like Christianity in Europe—were collapsing. His famous declaration, “God is dead”, was not a celebration. It was a diagnosis. He believed that Western culture’s old moral and religious foundations were crumbling, leaving a dangerous vacuum.
To those who only read the sound bites, it’s easy to confuse his diagnosis of nihilism with an endorsement of it. But that’s like mistaking a doctor for the disease he’s describing.
Nietzsche’s Real Position: Overcoming Nihilism
Nietzsche’s philosophy was a call to action. He warned that if humanity failed to create new values, it would collapse into despair, decadence, or blind conformity. His concept of the Übermensch—often mistranslated as “superman”—was his vision of a person strong enough to create their own meaning in a post-religious world.
Far from being a nihilist, Nietzsche was a nihilism-slayer. He saw the death of old gods not as a final tragedy but as the dawn of a new human responsibility: to become the authors of our own purpose.
“God Is Dead” — A Warning, Not a Victory Cry
In The Gay Science, Nietzsche writes about a madman announcing that “God is dead” to a marketplace crowd. The crowd laughs, not realizing the enormity of what the madman is saying. Nietzsche’s point: the loss of faith in absolute values is an earthquake that will reshape civilization. Without a deliberate effort to create new meaning, society risks drifting into the abyss.
The Last Man vs. The Übermensch
Nihilism’s most dangerous form, Nietzsche argued, was the rise of the “last man”—a comfortable, unambitious, risk-averse human who avoids challenge and lives only for shallow pleasures. The Übermensch, in contrast, is the creator of values, the one who looks into the void and writes their own law.
Why the Mislabel Matters
Labeling Nietzsche a nihilist isn’t just wrong—it undermines his entire project. He didn’t want us to wallow in meaninglessness. He wanted us to fight it. His philosophy is a sword drawn against the void, a demand that we live with creative intensity rather than passive resignation.
Final Thoughts
Nietzsche is a hero to this author. But we are not bound to worship every word our heroes speak. In Nietzsche’s case, his drift toward existentialism—admitting there is no inherent meaning, yet still trying to “overcome” that void by manufacturing personal meaning—invites serious criticism.
Consider his theory of the eternal recurrence. He first proposed it as a thought experiment, a kind of moral stress test: if you had to live this same life over and over for eternity, could you embrace it? Later, after breakthroughs in physics, he began to suspect it might actually be true—that existence may repeat itself infinitely. But if life truly loops forever, and if there is no ultimate purpose, then why the compulsion to force significance onto it? Why not accept the truth and live accordingly?
This author embraces a far more accepting—and frankly joyful—approach to meaninglessness. Nihilism is not a sickness to be cured, but a license to live without regret. Nietzsche’s quest for some heroic “superman” or constructed meaning is like Sisyphus pushing his rock: an endless, thankless task. The reward isn’t at the summit—it never arrives. Instead, the Dionysian approach wins: indulge, within reason. Enjoy life’s pleasures. Nietzsche called it shameful or decadent; in truth, reasoned indulgence is the only sane response to a reality where nothing matters. Existentialists should stop pretending. By admitting there’s no meaning, they already know better.
For more on this unapologetic approach to life—and the theory and science—yes, science—behind joyful nihilism, see my book You Are Not Alive: The Illusion of Consciousness and Free Will.