The Purpose of Life

When I tried to understand “what it’s all about” a few years ago I came to the conclusion that the purpose of life is to tell a good story.

This is far from an original idea — there is no shortage of literature dealing with the notion that life is essentially narrative — but a true appreciation of it is something we each have to arrive at through our own experience.

Some people are drawn to the amusing and irreverent; some are drawn to stories about risk and accomplishment — competitive victories and feats of ingenuity or perseverance — and some are drawn to stories about love, relationships, and unity.

Whatever you’re drawn to, regardless of what you believe, all the other purposes in life — happiness, utility, love, success, discovery, survival, procreation… are just special kinds of stories.

Even more broadly, stories must occur. Unlike other presumed aims, such as happiness or utility, it isn’t about having stories or no stories, it’s about continuing, expanding, and refining the stories that are already given to us.¹

At the very least, you can’t deny that we have an instinct for stories, deeply embedded by our nature.² So story is the purpose of life while happiness etc are purposes in life. Other purposes are present but not all-encompassing.

Of course, we’re still free to enjoy and make use of all the diverse purposes in life, so you can still go ahead and aim for a great career and a family with the woman or man of your dreams (or you can cure cancer or serve God or visit every country in the world or even stay at home eating cheeseburgers every day, if that’s the best story you can come up with) but the story-purpose grounds them all, puts them all in the same general frame.

Beyond that, some stories are better than others. Our aim should be for good stories — or better stories… But who’s to decide what’s a good story?

It’s largely subjective. Much of it comes down to working out for ourselves what’s good and what’s bad, learning what’s good and bad is itself part of the story.

There is an objective aspect as well. Some stories are more effective and generative³ than others — which is to say, some stories acquire a life of their own, proliferating and generating useful outcomes and positive effects — and in this way we’re saved from the despair of “agreeing to disagree.”

The outcome that matters most is the ability to make our stories even better. When trying to decide how to approach things, we should ask, “Does this experience… not just make for a good story in itself — but does it help me choose and affect the kinds of other stories I want to tell in the future? Does it help define my character and generate meaning?”

And it isn’t just about one’s self. This is one of the most important lessons we’re learning by using the Web: it’s about how relevant we become among others, which is measured by how much others can take away from us — “take away” in a nonrivalrous sense: something complementary, like knowledge, that many people can possess in common.

Tell a story that someone else can incorporate into their own life, work, and education. Tell a story that relates to the story of our time — whatever that might turn out to be. Participate in something bigger than one’s self. Tell a story that outlives us and becomes something that later generations can build on — not in a way we can possibly anticipate or determine, but in a way they can discover and create for themselves as they see how history unfolds and notice the things that we’re missing.

We always need to leave a little bit open. We always need to leave at least a little room for surprise, adventure, and opportunities to learn. If we don’t allow room for uncertainty, ambiguity, and unexpected change in our social structures, something will eventually come along and change things from the outside, with more devastating effects.

Uncertainty isn’t something to avoid at all costs. Uncertainty, or at least dramatic tension, is an inherent quality of life — and an essential element of any good story.

After all, would life be worth living if we already knew how it’s all going to turn out?

1Charles Taylor excellently describes the necessity of the narrative aspect of human experience in Sources of the Self (1989): p. 46 – 52. I’m also aware that Jean-Francois Lyotard and other postmodern theorists have already covered this ground in their own style.

2Bryan Boyd, On the Origin of Stories (2009).

3My use of “generative” refers to two different meanings at once: 1) by way of Dan McAdams [see The Redemptive Self (2006); originally used by Erik Erikson in Childhood and Society (1963)] referring to a concern for the well-being of future generations; 2) from Jonathan Zittrain, referring to “generative technologies” like the PC and the Internet that “produce unanticipated change through unfiltered contributions from broad and varied audiences” [The Future of the Internet--And How to Stop It (2008): p. 70]. I will continue to integrate these notions in my ongoing research, practice, conversations, and writing.