Find the flaws in my thinking, and please give me something to read that is not from a man.
Today, I found myself bombarded with questions about my beliefs by a colleague, which led me to realize just how many holes I still have in my thinking. The first question he hit me with was:
What would I be, and what would I do in an anarchist society?
We spent hours on chatting. We didn’t even pretend to work. Fast forward ten hours later—me, alone, staring at the wall, contemplating my existence—and I found myself asking a much darker question:
Am I suicidal?
Let me fill you in. I’ll walk you through the madness, but fair warning: this conversation was less of a dialogue and more of a rant. We also, as usual, didn’t listen to each other much.
At first, when asked what I’d do in an anarchist society, I said the first thing that came to mind: an insane amount of sex. But after reflecting on it more, I admitted that probably a lot more ordinary. I’d do what I do now—care for my friends, family, and cat. I’d cook, laugh, organize events, and just be with the people I care about. Then even a bit after that, I wanted to add that I would love to create art (whatever that means to me), and perhaps learn and seek a deeper sense of rapture in being alive. But I bit my tongue and didn’t say it. I felt it was too individualistic, not aligning with the anarchist ideals I hold. To express myself—whether on an intellectual or any other path—felt selfish in that moment. I didn’t allow myself to share these desires because, deep down, I probably believe that individualistic pursuits don’t truly contribute to the greater good of the community. In fact, part of me feels that the greatest good I could offer the community might be if I were to disappear altogether. So this brings me to my last question. Am I suicidal?
My argument pal claimed that I am nihilistic—that I reject, or wish to reject it. ((Although can I truly reject anything at all if I somewhat believe that asserting oneself is bad? And if that’s the case, can I even hold an opinion? Does this mean I want to ‘kill off’ myself in every way, in every situation? Am I this suicidal?))
The conversation stretched on for quite a while, and it wasn’t always the smoothest. There were many moments when we didn’t truly listen or respond to each other, so recounting it might feel a bit disjointed. Still, I’ll try to walk you through it because somewhere along the way, it should become clear where my worldview comes from—at least from someone else’s perspective. As for me, I’m lost.
Somehow asking myself what would I do in an anarchy led me to an other question. Would I be the same person in an anarchy? or would I have different aims.
Would I act inherently different if there is no surveillance or control from an external force?
If so, how would my actions change if there were no external authority or oversight?
Does human behavior still get shaped by internalized rules and expectations in an Anarchist society?
In community-based societies wouldn’t we internalize the need and want of the community? If we are liberated from external control, do we still carry an internal obligation to act for the greater good of the community?
I imagine that in this kind of society, everyone would place more value on communal activities. It would definitely shape all of us into different people. It would be held in hight regard to teach, nurture, and care for others..—think of the kinds of jobs, often associated with women today, and are undervalued. Anything that brings us closer to connectedness would be prioritized. I’d probably love to be a tantra masseuse in this society (or in any society, really). We’d all be equal in each other’s eyes.
What is real equality, and how is it achieved?
My utopia led me to question equality. What does it truly mean? Is it about ensuring we’re all the same, or is it about dismantling the divisions and hierarchies that separate us? I sense that, as a woman, my personal experience of the world tells me that equality can’t be achieved if we continue to objectify one another in any way. Real equality comes not from treating men and women as equal, but from realizing that the distinction between them is not real. No matter how many genders we claim to have, in the end, we are all one (though perhaps on a spectrum – let’s not get into this debate).
To truly feel equal (for me the word ‘feel’ is broader than ‘think’—it has to be experienced, not just intellectualized), does it require us to stop seeing ourselves as separate from others?
To achieve real equality, must we shift from viewing ourselves as isolated individuals to recognizing our interconnectedness and shared existence? This is a huge counterpoint to my beliefs, and I’m about to reveal where they stem from. I believe that the moment we create ourselves as individuals—is the moment we disconnect from the maternal and form our sense of self—and is also the moment we lose our connection to others. This might sound very Freudian, as my colleague would point out. Yet, I believe that the creation of the self inherently leads to the objectification of the other. It is sexist (and therefore homophobic, transphobic, ableist, racist, ageist, and all other forms of exclusion), but most fundamentally, it is narcissistic. The ego is born out of the disconnection from the maternal, and its reassurance comes from asserting dominance over another—to objectify the other.
(Yes, I should read more Jung and others who challenge this view, as I realize I may be overly fixated on this Freudian perspective.)
Does ego inherently against equality?
Does the ego create separation and competition, undermining efforts to build equality and unity? How does the ego contribute to the creation of social hierarchies?
This question brings me to a darker place within myself—my suicidal self begins to surface. As a woman, I feel I’ve been conditioned by abuse to abandon my boundaries. I was forced to suppress my own ego to protect the fragile masculine egos around me. (Fragile because they are masculine?) Perhaps I’ve internalized this so deeply that, instead of challenging it, I’ve built a philosophy around it.
But it’s not just about being a woman. I’ve also lived through a psychotic episode that brought me closer to an “ego-death” state. (Yes, you guessed it—I live in Berlin. Some people joked, “Oh, was this your first time?” But mine wasn’t induced by LSD; it came from insomnia, so it was less glamorous. Interestingly, I had already been writing about ego-death when it happened. It was my self-induced psychotic episode—oh dear, I must be super suicidal.)
What I’m trying to say is that this experience led me to recognize that ego-death can be a moment of profound connectedness. It’s a moment of becoming one with the lost mother again, with the source of all. People who’ve had near-death experiences often show a deeper interest in community afterward, spending more time with loved ones and shifting to careers that align with these new priorities. In my view, living through ego-death is a form of enlightenment—the Buddhist ideal (or perhaps just the Western, appropriated version of it).
Is an ego-less state permanently achievable?
Can we truly transcend the ego permanently, or is it just an impossible ideal? What would it mean to live without the ego, and is that even feasible? Is it the same as death? My colleague said I am being nihilistic and that I want to regress, claiming that ego-death is the same as actual death. But is it really?
If we transcend the ego, does it result in the loss of personal identity?
Is it realistic, or even desirable, to strive for a completely ego-less society? How do we balance the need for personal identity with a collective ethos? For me, equality and connectedness are the ultimate goals, and I believe the ego is the primary obstacle. I value selflessness. However, working toward an ego-less state is different from actually achieving it. Striving for this goal as a society isn’t nihilistic to me; it gives me purpose and direction. But I’m not sure if I want to completely eliminate the ego—or if my ego simply resists imagining that possibility. There’s an inherent paradox here that I need to resolve. I may need to meditate more on this. Perhaps if the paradox lies in aiming for something we don’t actually want to achieve, then it must be true that the goal doesn’t matter, but the journey does. Oh great, where is this leading me? How much eastern appropriation can a single blog post handle?.
Does minimizing the ego lead to a more equal society?
Back to the original stream. I still believe we need to minimize the ego and abolish ego-driven hierarchical systems such as the market or state. Is reducing ego the key to creating a more just and equal society? In my view egos are mostly inflated, taking up much more space then they should, then how far should it be minimised?
If the ego is minimized, would people still be driven to act and create?
If we diminish the ego, do we also lose the drive to act, create, or contribute? I haven’t read enough Hegel, but I have a feeling he had something to say about this. Something about freedom not being a fixed state, but an ongoing, dynamic process of becoming. Maybe once universal freedom is achieved, motivation itself shifts—it doesn’t disappear, but it’s no longer rooted in self-interest or ego alone. Instead, it becomes part of a larger, more holistic vision of community, freedom, and mutual recognition. The ego, too, doesn’t simply vanish—it realizes it was never complete on its own. It finds itself in relation to others, reconciled within a bigger, interconnected whole.
Something like this, perhaps.
I wish even the people who analyze Hegel would write in a way that’s actually approachable, but here I am—deep in a dialectical struggle, stuck somewhere between thesis and antithesis.
So now to the main question. If I believe that the ego-less, selfless state is desirable then do I think this way because I actually want to die and I’ve created a personal belief system out of my own (nihilistic or) depressive worldview?
So now to the main question: If I believe that an ego-less, selfless state is desirable, does that mean I secretly just want to die and have crafted this whole belief system from my own nihilistic or depressive worldview? Have I internalized the idea that women are objects so deeply that I now seek to erase not only myself but everyone? Is my anarchism just self-destructive in disguise, with the so-called search for an ego-less state just a euphemism for self-hate? Am I just motherless, nihilistic, naïve—or simply not well-versed enough in Hegel to understand this whole thing?
Or—am I actually onto something here? Do I genuinely believe that transcending the ego isn’t the end of the human self, but the beginning of something deeper, more connected, more whole? Is my utopia one where we breathe, think, believe, and act as one—where one is for all?
Well, for tonight, I’m fine with not having any solutions. Maybe the constant questioning is the way to refine the conflict between ego and ego-death, individuality and collectivity. Maybe I shouldn’t get too fixated on my own ideas. Perhaps ego can be fluid, interconnected, always becoming—and it’s the act of redefining and reimagining that brings us closer to it. So for now, I’ll keep questioning, keep redefining—and yes, I’ll allow myself to have a fucking opinion about never having a certain opinion! I might be stuck in between, but also in movement. Either way… I’m off to meditate (or masturbate).
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