For some, religion offers meaning in life. Others might find meaning in family, career, politics, activism, or some cause. In contrast, science seems to offer an indifferent view of physical existence as inherently meaningless. While it is possible to take comfort even in that stance, the comparison is flawed. Meaning (or the lack of it) is not a property of the universe itself. It does not exist in outer space but in inner space. Nor can meaning be divinely given, for it is a mortal human judgment.
More precisely, it’s a biologically-based personal judgment. Every organism evaluates things and events in its environment as significant, potentially bearing pain or pleasure, opportunity or fear. It could not survive otherwise. To every organism the world is inherently—even compulsively— charged with significance. That’s our natural heritage. In addition to it, we humans have overlaid a detached viewpoint, in our relative security at the pinnacle of the food chain. Yet, this relative detachment has not spared us existential anxiety, bogeymen in the closets of imagination, nor real dangers. It has not freed us from the realm of meaning, with its potential for suffering along with satisfaction or happiness. But it does give us the insight that meaning is something we confer or withhold, not a property of the world itself. It is our doing and responsibility. Though life can seem painfully significant, any complaint that “life is meaningless” is no more than an ultimately meaningless personal judgment.
Science has formalized the detached viewpoint. It focuses all the better on objective reality by removing the subjective from its picture. There is no intention to directly free anyone from suffering, which is not its purpose. On the other hand, there are philosophies which do intend to free one from suffering—Buddhism, for example. Its formula: don’t be attached and you won’t suffer. The irony, however, is that one may then be attached to the formula: to avoid suffering, maintain an even keel, a tranquil state. That is little different from the natural homeostasis of the organism. Even the amoeba seeks to carry on undisturbed. And even the diligent meditator can fall into distraction and be upset at this failure.
The situation is far worse for the religious believer, who seeks salvation but is always in danger of falling from grace. The logic is: let God judge me so that I don’t have to. (Of course, not being an organism, God has no need to judge anything at all!) Being an organism, one may continue to judge oneself, projecting that judgment onto God, society, or others and forfeiting responsibility for it.
At least science does not deny the dilemma, but simply ignores it. Yes, the universe and life have no inherent meaning. So? It is absurd to imagine they should have. If there is only us chickens, then the only meaning is the one we make while scratching about. It can never amount to more than chickenfeed in the cosmic scale of things. It is up to us whether that suffices.
Detachment does not mean not caring. There is a difference between caring and taking things personally. One can have goals that matter and not take frustration or defeat in a personal way that discourages further effort. If we put value on such efforts, then disappointment is an inevitable possibility we must face. Just being alive is an effort, ultimately frustrated by death. It would be sour grapes to shun effort simply to avoid disappointment—and then justify that because life is meaningless anyway. Disappointment and suffering (feelings, after all!) are symptoms of life. Life will continue to lack inherent meaning whatever we do. Just because the universe is indifferent does not mean we have to be.