The Sickness Unto Death

A short book that feels like a marathon, Søren Kierkegaard's The Sickness Unto Death looks and is daunting. It is a dense philosophical treatise that goes deep into notions of despair, the self and existence – hardly crowd-pleasers – and also topics that are deeply unfashionable nowadays like faith and the state of Christianity. It is a book that can inflict on us passages like the following, which is by no means the only example:

"If the relation which relates to itself has been established by something else, then of course the relation is the third term, but then this relation, the third term, is a relation which relates in turn to that which has established the whole relation." (pg. 10)

And yet, alongside all this academic show more wordiness and dry dialectic, Kierkegaard can also deliver lines such as "with despair a fire takes hold in something that cannot burn" (pg. 18). The best example of the headache-inducing yet ultimately nourishing nature of the book, and perhaps of philosophy in general, is when Kierkegaard delivers the maddening line "To understand and to understand; are these then two different things? Certainly" (pg. 111), only to follow this up with a clear and interesting discussion of what he means by this, namely that there is a "distinction between not being able to understand and being unwilling to understand" (pg. 117).

Of course, no one is coming to philosophy, particularly philosophy of the calibre of Kierkegaard, with a view to finding their next beach read. Even so, the dense and gloomy nature of the book can be fatiguing, even though Kierkegaard can turn a phrase occasionally, and is bracingly critical of Christendom the church as opposed to Christianity the creed. Even when the book is uplifting it is hard-earned; you have to follow it closely in order to appreciate the positive, uplifting aspect of what he is writing about. Despair, Kierkegaard argues, is not discouraging but uplifting, "since it views every man with regard to the highest demand that can be made of him: to be spirit." (pp21-22)

For all the toughness of the meat, and the difficulty in hunting down the kill, there is plenty that is nourishing and satisfying for a reader in Kierkegaard. My feelings with regard to The Sickness Unto Death – and largely why I'm open to reading philosophy in general – is encapsulated in something speculative Kierkegaard writes on page 149: "To be a particular human being is [perhaps] to be nothing; just think – and then you are the whole of humanity." show less

“To understand and understand; are these then two different things? Certainly.”

Understanding Kierkegaard is not always straightforward. Not only must one know something about Kierkegaard’s personal history, but one also needs to know some of the philosophical background, especially Kierkegaard’s on-going polemic with G.W.F. Hegel. Despite Hegel having died in 1831, almost 20 years before the publication of The Sickness unto Death Kierkegaard spends a lot of time opposing Hegel’s “System” of philosophy. Obviously, I cannot go into any detail here, but Kierkegaard appears to have felt that Hegel had erroneously done away with the element of human existence in his systematic view of history. Hegel focused on large, abstract show more forces in history, but he ignored the individual existence buffeted by these forces. Whether this is a plausible reading of Hegel is beyond the scope of my review or my knowledge, but Kierkegaard, known as the father of existentialism, certainly refers to Hegelian ideas quite often, usually to dismiss them.

Kierkegaard’s existentialism (a term he never used) differs from, say, Jean-Paul Sartre’s atheistic existentialism by focusing very much on Christianity. Kierkegaard was incensed by the sham religiosity prevalent among the well-to-do citizens of Copenhagen, so much so that he called their form of self-satisfied Christianity “Christendom”, a negative formulation for their institutionalised belief. In The Sickness unto Death, written under the pseudonym Anti-Climacus, Kierkegaard diagnoses the “spiritual sickness” he associates with non-believers, but also these quasi-believers, people who feel they are Christians, but who do not really live up to their ideals. Kierkegaard says that “the sickness unto death” is despair, and he uses the story of Lazarus to illustrate this: Lazarus was raised from the dead by Jesus but, as Kierkegaard points out, we have to assume that Lazarus did eventually die. The real resurrection is belief in Christ, and death is only real when one despairs of being saved by Christ. I should point out here that Kierkegaard, despite being very Christian, never tries to prove the truth of Christianity to the reader. In fact, he says that it is “extraordinarily stupid” to defend Christianity, that “the person who first thought of defending Christianity in Christendom is de facto a Judas No.2…” This is because, as Kierkegaard argues, Christianity is based on a paradox of such startling absurdity, of such breath-taking non-sense, that any attempt to rationally defend or explain it is pointless. One either takes the leap of faith, or one doesn’t.

This is definitely a problem for secular readers of The Sickness unto Death, especially the second part of the book, where Kierkegaard equates despair with sin. If you do not accept the basic foundation of Kierkegaard’s argument (i.e. Christianity) you might very well completely dismiss the book. Which would be a mistake, as Kierkegaard has many interesting things to say about despair and the condition of the individual human being. His vast learning shines through on every page, as does his verbal ingenuity – the translator alerts the reader to Kierkegaard’s wordplay, which often does not make the transition into English.

What did I personally think of Kierkegaard’s argument? I find that difficult to answer. I view myself as a bit of a theistic existentialist (i.e. a believer with existentialist notions), but I have serious doubts about concepts like “original sin” and “eternal damnation”. What does prove reassuring is that Kierkegaard also had doubts: one of the main reasons he writes pseudonymously is because he does not completely ally himself with the viewpoints of the pseudonyms. For instance, Kierkegaard wrote in his journal that he puts himself “lower than Anti-Climacus”, indicating that he is not as “good a Christian” as his pseudonym. This despite Kierkegaard’s own somewhat austere, rigid Christianity. What I am trying to say, in a very groping, unorganised fashion, is that Kierkegaard remains a fascinating-if-problematic influence for me. Sometimes, when I am in despair at the world and at my most pessimistic, or when my doubts about God, or gods, or what-you-will, overwhelms me, I wonder how Kierkegaard, one of the finest minds of European civilisation, could believe in the stuff and nonsense of a 2000-year old legend about a carpenter somewhere in the middle of nowhere. But at other times, I begin to doubt my doubts, and then I worry that I am in the same despair that Kierkegaard writes so penetratingly about.

This book certainly won’t be for everyone. It is densely written and, as I mentioned at the beginning, requires some knowledge of Kierkegaard and his philosophy. But, to paraphrase Yeats, there’s a fascination in what’s difficult. Perhaps others will come to Kierkegaard in time, whether to praise or condemn, I won’t presume to say. show less

In which I am again reminded of a friend's experience with a professor in a class on Kierkegaard: the students spent the first five weeks trying to convince the professor that you can probably only understand a quarter of Kierkegaard unless you read him in the context of Hegel; the professor rejects this and stresses instead Kierkegaard's Socraticism; at the end of the fifth week (i.e., less than halfway through the course) the professor admits defeat. If that doesn't sound remarkable, you haven't taken many courses with philosophy professors, whom you cannot convince of anything unless they already secretly believe it. The moral of the story is: most of Kierkegaard's writing is incomprehensible unless you've read Hegel.

That doesn't show more mean, as the cliche has it, that he's writing *against* Hegel. This book is a kind of depressing mini-phenomenology of spirit, in which, instead of ascending towards absolute knowledge, human kind simultaneously ascends towards (what Kierkegaard takes to be) absolute knowledge (i.e., God), and descends further into despair for any number of reasons and in any number of ways. For Hegel, there's always one destination--you might stop on the way to the truth, but your journey is always in that direction. For Kierkegaard, as for Marx, there are two destinations--the good (God/communism) and the horrific (despair/barbarism)--which are both in the same direction. For Marx, 'science' (in the Hegelian sense) will get you to communism, while ideology/capitalism etc will get you to barbarism. For Kierkegaard, science will lead you closer to God, by deepening your despair, but it *won't* get you to the good. Kierkegaard has very good criticisms to make of Hegel, but not the way that, say, Russell has criticisms of him. Kierkegaard, like Marx, remains on Hegel's side of the fence.

Anyway, SuD is a critique of the various idiocies human kind will perform in order to stay in despair. Unlike 20th century existentialists, to whom he's often compared, Kierkegaard insists that the way we are (both 'eternal' and mortal) does not, in itself, lead to despair--despair is the result of an "imbalance" in ourselves, a stressing of one or the other of these elements at the expense of the other. The human condition is not *intrinsically* one of despair; despair is something we do to ourselves. SuD goes through the many different ways in which we can be unbalanced: pretending we're other than we are, despairing of the way we are, and so on. The 'cure' is to recognize and live with our synthesis, not wish to be entirely eternal (a fantasy) nor believe ourselves to be entirely mortal (which, as a kind of determinism, cuts us off from the possibilities of human existence).

The quasi-Hegelian 'portraits' of various people in despair still read like a rogue's gallery of contemporary intellectuals:

"Have hope in the possibility of help, especially on the strength of the absurd, that for God everything is possible? No, that he will not. And ask help of any other? No, that for all the world he will not do; if it came to that, he would rather be himself with all the torments of hell than ask for help." (102)

Here are your militant atheists, 'scientific' determinists*, literary existentialists, and solipsistic nihilists of all stripes, wallowing in self-satisfaction, "he prefers to rage against everything and be the one whom the whole world, all existence, has wronged, the one for whom it is especially important to ensure that he has his agony on hand, so that no one will take it from him--for then he would not be able to convince others and himself that he is right." (103).

The second part, on despair as sin, is a much easier read, and not quite as interesting, although it does include the wonderful thought that "a self is what it has as its standard of measurement," (147). Kierkegaard's attack on 'Christendom' comes up here, and is as right as ever, but you'd have to be pretty convinced of the perfection of institutional Christianity to find it all that affecting, and I, dear reader, am not.

In short, there's a great lesson in here for 21st century types who like to harp on about humanity's existential loneliness and how evolution means we're destined to rape and pillage because there's no meaning anymore: if you think only a God can give us meaning, then leap into faith, or come to the somewhat easier realization that actually, we can give ourselves meaning. It's childish to think otherwise.


*I've always found it odd that so many people who, quite rightly, hold firm to empiricism, take so seriously the idea of determinism (a reasonable assumption for experimental science, but not therefore a fact) despite the absence of evidence for it. Granted, there can be no evidence for it (despite those idiotic 'experiments' in which people's brains 'decide' something 'before' the people do). But determinism and God have that in common. That won't change anyone's mind on God or determinism, of course, because, as Kierkegaard puts it in a different context, "the despairer thinks that he himself is this evidence" (105). show less

What is decisive with regard to the self is consciousness, that is to say, self-consciousness. The more consciousness, the more will; the more will, the more self. Someone who has no will at all is no self. But the more will he has, the more self-consciousness he has too.

Kierkegaard is certainly thought-provoking, if not always coherent. While the overall view has much to recommend it as a phenomenological account of existential despair, it leaves a lot to be desired in terms of a cogent metaphysical theory of the self and its attendant states. It is especially hard to take up his notion of the self if one doubts some of his foundational premises—specifically, his assertion that the self must have been established by God. And if one show more does not buy this, the rest is hard to swallow. That being said, the text is always engaging and insightful. show less

This book argues for the importance of discovering one's own identity. Through that process, one can develop his own individuality as a person. The author claims that in order to eventually become self-aware, one must overcome hopelessness and denial. Kierkegaard is certainly thought-provoking, even though he isn't always rational. Although the overall perspective has much to offer as a phenomenological explanation of existential despair, it falls well short in terms of a coherent metaphysical theory of the self and its attendant states. If one challenges some of his underlying presumptions, especially his assertion that God had to have created the self, it is especially challenging to embrace his conception of the self. And if one does show more not believe this, it is hard to accept the rest. However, the text is consistently insightful and engaging. show less

What is Despair?

"Just as a physician might say there isn't a single human being who enjoys perfect health, so someone with a proper knowledge of man might say there is not a single human being who does not despair at least a little, in whose innermost being there does not dwell an uneasiness, an unquiet, a discordance, an anxiety in the face of an unknown something, or a something he doesn't even dare strike up acquaintance with, an anxiety about a possibility in life or an anxiety about himself."

According to Kierkegaard, there is not a human being who is not in despair. If you've never despaired, it's because you've never hoped, and that itself is precisely despair. Despair is the sickness unto death, not of the body but of the show more spirit.

This is a brilliant treatise on psychology, philosophy and theology. Part I provides insights into 1) the nature of self, which is a synthesis of infinitude and finitude, possibility and necessity; 2) the nature and cause of despair, which is an imbalance between infinitude and finitude, and an unsettling relation to self. Part II expounds the Christian concept of original sin, as despair is sin, the intensification of despair and the resulting torment, "dying you shall die".

The Self as Spirit

Just as we determine the meaning of a word in the context of the book, so we find the meaning of an individual in the context of the society in which he lives. An individual experiences despair when the fabric of his existence is disrupted or destroyed, e.g., the loss of a loved one, a vocation, or any other object of his pursuit on which his happiness depends.

Kierkegaard uses the example of being deserted by a loved one. Some psychologist might say the despair in that case is limited only to the person's love life. But Kierkegaard argues that despair is actually and always over oneself, e.g., not wanting to be oneself without the loved one. Seen from that perspective, despair is a pervasive and inherent state.

He goes further and states that an individual is not only a social being, but spirit. The social context is like a garment, and the true self underneath is revealed once the garment is removed. Even when he is securely grounded in society, he is in despair with regard to his relation to spirit, the eternal self, though he may not be conscious of being in despair.

In a sense, there is a deeper, more inherent and consistent context for the individual than society, it is God. An individual is always related to God and accountable before God, who is also the Standard by which the meaning and value of an individual is determined.

Despair or Hope, The Choice is Yours

Would you recommend your friend to see a doctor if he doesn't look quite right? Of course. But, what if you suspect that your friend has a terminal disease, and all the doctor can do is to give the proper diagnosis without providing any cure?

According to Kierkegaard, despair is a disease that is incurable, though not in the usual sense of the word. There is no cure for it, because the cure comes not from outside but from the individual himself. Paradoxically or ironically, if the individual has the cure, he wouldn't be or remain in despair in the first place.

Since God, with Whom all things are possible, is always present with the individual, the individual always has a choice to either open to Him in faith and thereby have hope in Him, or reject Him and remain in despair in himself.

Half way through the book, Kierkegaard revealed that he himself was also subject to despair. Yet, for him and for all Christians, there is hope. They may turn to the Physician who can heal all their diseases. The opposite of sin is not virtue, but faith, and God is "the author and finisher of our faith". "The self in being itself and in wanting to be itself is transparently grounded in God". show less

This can be called a Phenomenology of Despair. Kierkegaard is frequently considered as anti-Hegel but this book can be considered as a kind of dialectic of the self. Kierkegaard looked at the self the same way as Hegel looked at the world, his universal spirit.

Here we see his iterative definition of the self,

The self is a relation which relates itself to its own self, or it is that in the relation that the relation relates itself to its own self; the self is not the relation but that the relation relates itself to its own self. It must in turn relate to the power which established the whole relation. The self is a dynamic process. It is simultaneously becoming and and unbecoming from what one is.

and the self as a synthesis,

A human show more being is a synthesis of the infinite and the finite, of the temporal and the eternal, of freedom and necessity, in short, a synthesis.

Despair results from lack of balance between these opposites and takes three forms,

Being unconscious in despair of having a self. This is the most common form of despair. Despair of an aesthete. Where someone is lost in something external that they are not aware of their eternal self or that they are in despair. A spiritless existence. From Kierkegaard's point of view, almost everyone is in despair, and most of them are not aware of it.
not wanting in despair to be oneself happens if one has finitude and necessity but without infinitude and possibility, i.e. no faith. For God is infinite, for God everything is possible. The opposite is where you have infinitude and possibility without being grounded in temporal and necessity, Where one is carried away by dreams and fantasies without being grounded in something temporal leading to despair and wanting in despair to be oneself.

One can contrast this with materialism, where alienation and despair are caused by material circumstances and they can be rid of by changing the society. Even though they never encountered each other’s works, Marx and Kierkegaard were contemporaries and both of their thoughts germinated in the rapidly industrialising society. But for Marx, a materialist, this alienation ultimately took the form of a worker being alienated from his labour and it can only be overcome by changing the society, and for Kierkegaard, the individual self is all that matters despair can only be overcome by the self through faith.

Among the western thinkers, existentialists have a lot in common with buddhist and hindu thinkers. The similar emphasis on the self, the importance of self-realisation and in this book there is also some similarity in the understanding of despair. Despair as a sickness of the spirit and the opposite of being in despair is to have faith. Standing openly in front of God.

Here we also see the Christian notion of despair as a blessing. Something which we see in Dostoevsky’s works as well. Despair transcends banal experience and it leads to salvation. So despair is also a blessing. To arrive at deliverance one must pass through despair.

The second part got too Christian and esoteric for me. It mainly deals with sin. This work is rooted in christianity but still has universal applicability. If you want to understand how your relation is relating itself to itself, you must read this book. show less