Purpose
We may look at various objects in our lives and easily identify a purpose most people accept they serve—a reason for why the objects were created, why the objects exist. Most of us would agree that the purpose of a lamp would be to provide light for us to see better, or that the purpose of a car is to make it easier to travel to a distant location. The purpose of teeth, most would agree, is to chew on food to make it easier to digest. The purpose of the heart is to pump blood through our cardiovascular system so that our cells can receive oxygen.
Some of these things are human inventions; they were assembled by humans specifically to serve a purpose. A piece of paper was created by humans out of wood from a tree. A human took the pulp of wood and processed it into a piece of paper which you, as the consumer, now have in front of you. You might use it to draw a sketch, write an essay, or fly a paper airplane. The possibilities are limited only by human creativity and practicality.
Walking in the forest, we stumble across a random tree. Does this tree have a purpose? If so, what is it? What if, say, the tree was marked with a notice that it would be cut down soon to make paper. Does the tree have a purpose now, or if it had one before, does it have a different purpose? Is the ultimate purpose for the existence of this tree—the reason for which it was created—to make paper for humans to use? Wait a second, if that's the case, who assigned the tree that purpose?
The tree was not assembled by humans; it was created spontaneously—an act of nature. Unlike the lamp, humans did not excavate for natural resources to make a tree. The tree came from a seed produced by a similar tree. This seed remained dormant in the ground until it germinated and gradually matured, all without the intervention of humans. We know what the purpose of paper is because we created paper. The tree, however, was not created by any human. It isn't a conscious, thinking entity in the same way a human is. Taken alone, the heart is not a conscious entity capable of thought, or of assigning purpose. The only such "conscious entity" we know of and interact with directly every day is us: humans assigned the heart a purpose, as it did paper.
When we view the concept of purpose from this perspective, it begins to feel almost like a label—something we slap onto an object. The heart pumps blood through blood vessels to provide oxygen to cells, which is used to fuel biological processes such as cellular respiration. These are facts--they are observations, statements of reality. A purpose is different. A purpose is a reason, a justification we make in our minds for why something exists. The frame of reference we use to make these justifications is oftentimes life. When determining purpose, we ask ourselves, "How does this affect our lives?" This also explains why certain objects created solely by nature sometimes have seemingly whimsical purposes. You may have been told as a child that a plant's purpose is to convert the carbon dioxide we breathe out into oxygen we breathe in. This is a valid observation of how a plant affects human life, but is that the purpose for which a plant exists?
The problem with this frame of reference—that purposes explain how an object is supposed to affect human life—is that it breaks down completely when the object in question is life and existence itself. This is the question that has tormented man for time immemorial: "What is the purpose of life?" What is the purpose for which life exists? What is the purpose for which existence itself exists? We find ourselves struggling to answer these questions because, like the tree, humans did not create existence; although we may like to think it, we did not assemble the universe. Did humans assemble life?
Some of these things are human inventions; they were assembled by humans specifically to serve a purpose. A piece of paper was created by humans out of wood from a tree. A human took the pulp of wood and processed it into a piece of paper which you, as the consumer, now have in front of you. You might use it to draw a sketch, write an essay, or fly a paper airplane. The possibilities are limited only by human creativity and practicality.
Walking in the forest, we stumble across a random tree. Does this tree have a purpose? If so, what is it? What if, say, the tree was marked with a notice that it would be cut down soon to make paper. Does the tree have a purpose now, or if it had one before, does it have a different purpose? Is the ultimate purpose for the existence of this tree—the reason for which it was created—to make paper for humans to use? Wait a second, if that's the case, who assigned the tree that purpose?
The tree was not assembled by humans; it was created spontaneously—an act of nature. Unlike the lamp, humans did not excavate for natural resources to make a tree. The tree came from a seed produced by a similar tree. This seed remained dormant in the ground until it germinated and gradually matured, all without the intervention of humans. We know what the purpose of paper is because we created paper. The tree, however, was not created by any human. It isn't a conscious, thinking entity in the same way a human is. Taken alone, the heart is not a conscious entity capable of thought, or of assigning purpose. The only such "conscious entity" we know of and interact with directly every day is us: humans assigned the heart a purpose, as it did paper.
When we view the concept of purpose from this perspective, it begins to feel almost like a label—something we slap onto an object. The heart pumps blood through blood vessels to provide oxygen to cells, which is used to fuel biological processes such as cellular respiration. These are facts--they are observations, statements of reality. A purpose is different. A purpose is a reason, a justification we make in our minds for why something exists. The frame of reference we use to make these justifications is oftentimes life. When determining purpose, we ask ourselves, "How does this affect our lives?" This also explains why certain objects created solely by nature sometimes have seemingly whimsical purposes. You may have been told as a child that a plant's purpose is to convert the carbon dioxide we breathe out into oxygen we breathe in. This is a valid observation of how a plant affects human life, but is that the purpose for which a plant exists?
The problem with this frame of reference—that purposes explain how an object is supposed to affect human life—is that it breaks down completely when the object in question is life and existence itself. This is the question that has tormented man for time immemorial: "What is the purpose of life?" What is the purpose for which life exists? What is the purpose for which existence itself exists? We find ourselves struggling to answer these questions because, like the tree, humans did not create existence; although we may like to think it, we did not assemble the universe. Did humans assemble life?
There may be a mildly viable argument that we do assemble life in the form of reproduction. But that leads to the even more tormenting question that is summed up by the old dilemma: "which came first, the chicken or the egg?" True, we may "assemble" life through reproduction, but for every life that is assembled in this fashion, there must be parents. If humans are the ultimate source of life, then who assembled the first human? Was there even such a thing as the "first human"?
If we instead consider that other frame of reference—that the creator of something is the entity that chooses what the purpose of that thing is—then the logical solution is to ask first what was the entity that created the thing in question. There are three possibilities:
If we instead consider that other frame of reference—that the creator of something is the entity that chooses what the purpose of that thing is—then the logical solution is to ask first what was the entity that created the thing in question. There are three possibilities:
- Humans created it. Ergo, humans assign the purpose.
- Someone or something else created it. Ergo, that entity assigns the purpose.
- Nothing created it. Ergo, ... ?
This idea is interesting. If you believe that humans are the ultimate source of life, then it follows that it is humans who decide what the purpose of life is. In other words, the purpose of life is whatever you choose it to be (or perhaps what your parents choose it to be, since they created you). On the other hand, if you believe that life was created by something other than humans, then it is that entity that assigns life purpose. The third possibility is the most intriguing. Is it even possible for something to be created... without an entity to credit for the creation? Earlier, we attributed things to a creation of "nature", but really, what is nature? If something is created spontaneously, whom do we credit for the creation? At this point, this definition of purpose breaks down too. Perhaps, if you believe this, there is no purpose to life, because nothing is there to assign it one. A rather grim worldview, if I do say so myself.
Ultimately, what all this depends on are your core beliefs. There are no easy answers here.