Anxious? Me too. About what? A lot of things, as I'm sure is the case with you, dear reader. Would you like some confidence rooted in action, not abstraction? Allow me to offer this formulation: materialist confidence.
"Materialism regards nature as primary and spirit as secondary; it places being first and thought second. Idealism holds the contrary view." - V.I. Lenin, Materialism and Empirio-criticism, Chapter 2.1, 1909
Lenin, drawing from Engels' Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy, succinctly outlines the fundamental distinction between materialism and idealism. This philosophical dichotomy is not merely an abstract academic debate--it has profound implications for how individuals understand themselves, their anxieties, and their place in the world. Self-awareness--the recognition of one's existence, thoughts, and relationship to the external world--can generate anxiety precisely because it forces an individual to confront the tension between subjective experience and objective reality. The moment we become aware of "I", we simultaneously become aware of "not I." This fundamental separation can be terrifying. We are no longer seamlessly integrated with our environment but are distinct, finite beings in a vast, often indifferent universe.
This realization carries with it an awareness of our mortality, our limitations, and our vulnerability. Furthermore, self-awareness thrusts us into the complex web of social existence. We see ourselves in relation to others, leading to comparisons, judgments, and the often-painful recognition of societal expectations. Do we measure up? Do we belong? This internal scrutiny, this constant self-monitoring, can easily curdle into a gnawing anxiety. But anxiety is not inherently negative--its value depends on how it is processed. Does it lead to withdrawal and alienation, or does it spur engagement and transformation? The key lies in the philosophical framework one adopts: idealism, which often seeks meaning in abstract or moral narratives, or materialism, which grounds understanding in empirical reality and historical conditions.
When the anxiety born of self-awareness is not productively channeled, it tends to manifest in ways that lead to withdrawal, alienation, and a fundamental dehumanization either of the self or of others. The individual, feeling a profound sense of dissonance and alienation from the world, might internalize this discomfort. This can lead to a corrosive internal dialogue: "I don't fit in with this world, so what is wrong with me?" This self-directed negativity is a fertile ground for various forms of psychological distress, including depression, debilitating self-doubt, and a pervasive sense of inadequacy. The world appears as a coherent, functioning system from which the individual feels inexplicably excluded, leading to the painful conclusion that the fault must lie within their own essential nature. Life becomes a burden, and self-awareness a curse, illuminating only one's perceived flaws and failures.
Conversely, this profound unease can be externalized, projected onto the world and its inhabitants. The internal monologue shifts: "I don't fit in with this world, so what is wrong with everybody else?" This perspective can breed a deep-seated cynicism, a bitter misanthropy, and a generalized refusal to engage constructively with society or its institutions. Others are perceived as the source of the problem--ignorant, malicious, or simply "other"--leading to their dehumanization. This externalization can manifest in various forms, from bitter resentment and social isolation (albeit of a different flavor than the internalized version) to aggressive anti-social behaviors or an embrace of ideologies that scapegoat particular groups. In both scenarios, whether the anxiety turns inward or outward in these negative ways, the individual remains trapped. Their self-awareness, instead of being a tool for understanding and growth, becomes a source of persistent torment, locking them into cycles of despair or animosity, preventing any meaningful engagement with the root causes of their distress.
Yet embedded within this anxiety is a spark of profound potential: curiosity. The very question "what is wrong?"--whether directed inward or outward--is an implicit desire for understanding, a nascent yearning for truth. When this curiosity is nurtured, when the individual chooses to explore the roots of their unease rather than succumbing to it, anxiety transforms from a paralyzing agent into a vehicle for engagement. It prompts investigation, a deeper dive into the self and the world to uncover the underlying realities that generate such discomfort. The problem, therefore, is not anxiety itself--it is a natural, perhaps even necessary, byproduct of a conscious mind grappling with existence. The crucial determinant of its ultimate impact lies in the modes of thinking applied to address it.
Idealism, which prioritizes thought over material conditions, tends to interpret anxiety in one of two ways:
A. Moral PanicThe individual's discomfort is framed as a personal failing--a lack of virtue, discipline, or spiritual alignment.
"If I were more disciplined, I wouldn't feel this way.", "My anxiety is a sign of weak faith." This approach places the burden entirely on the individual, ignoring systemic and material factors.
B. PredestinationThe anxiety is seen as part of a grander narrative where the individual must "find their place" in a preordained order.
"Everything happens for a reason.", "My suffering is part of a divine plan." Both responses are idealist because they treat consciousness as primary, suggesting that the solution lies in adjusting one's mindset rather than altering material conditions.
Materialism, in contrast, examines the total conditions of existence:
1. State of Being: The individual recognizes that they exist in a material world populated by others.
2. State of Environment: They assess the empirical reality of their surroundings (economic structures, social relations, historical forces, etc.).
This approach does not dismiss anxiety as a personal failing but treats it as a signal--an indication of contradictions between the self and the world. The materialist framework offers a scientific methodology for understanding and acting upon anxiety:
1. Empirical Grounding: Instead of relying on abstract narratives, materialism demands engagement with observable reality.
2. Historical Analysis: Learning from past struggles and dialectical developments provides context for present conditions.
3. Dialectical Action: Theory must be tested and refined through practice--change is not just interpreted but enacted.
From this materialist framing emerges the concept of "materialist confidence." This is not blind optimism or arrogant self-assurance, but a confidence rooted in the understanding that there is a tangible, scientific methodology to obtain truth, rather than the idealist approach of constructing subjective "truths" detached from empirical verification.
1. Learning from History: History provides a vast repository of human experience, revealing patterns of social development, class struggle, and the consequences of different modes of organization.
2. Applying Dialectics: Understanding contradictions within systems and how they drive change.
3. Engaging in Praxis: The unity of theory and action--not just interpreting the world, but changing it.
"The highest point reached by contemplative materialism, that is, materialism which does not comprehend sensuousness as practical activity, is contemplation of single individuals and of civil society." - Karl Marx, Theses On Feuerbach, Point 9, 1888
Through this process, materialist confidence is built and reinforced. Each attempt to understand and change the world--even if met with partial success or temporary setbacks--provides new data, refines theoretical understanding, and builds collective capacity. The anxiety that once felt overwhelming and isolating can be channeled into collective effort, fostering solidarity and a sense of agency. It is the confidence that comes not from an idealized notion of self or destiny, but from the tangible experience of grappling with reality and striving, alongside others, to shape it for the better.
In conclusion, the self-aware individual, armed with materialist confidence, no longer asks "what is wrong with me?" or "what is wrong with everybody?" in a spirit of despair--instead, they ask: "What are the material conditions creating this unease?", "How can we collectively act to transform them?"
Anxiety, then, becomes not a symptom of a flawed spirit, but a testament to a sensitive consciousness engaging with a complex, contradictory, yet ultimately changeable world. By adopting a materialist framework, we shift from passive suffering to active transformation--turning existential dread into a driving force for understanding, comradeship, and revolutionary change.
Have fun out there!