The Fear of Irrelevance

As beings that have collectively and unconsciously dealt with the misfortune of being the only self-proclaimed cognitively superior creatures, human beings also have the added misfortune of being plagued by a multitude of anxieties and fears. Now, when I say “cognitively superior”, I mean it in a singular sense, in that we have been bequeathed with the capacity for self-awareness, volition and metacognition (the cynic in me thinks the word doomed would be more fitting than bequeathed, however). The least acknowledged fear that we all possess is the fear of irrelevance.

The fear of irrelevance is the belief that we will one day grow insignificant, our ephemeral presence receding into the background without a trace of remembrance. This fear can operate at two levels, the individualistic level where you fear you will stop mattering to ones you love and at the collectivistic level where you fear your fugacious presence will in no way be significant in this world.

However, the most common manifestation of this fear is that on the individualistic level. This fear dictates us to embark on either one of two courses of actions. The imagined fear of growing insignificant can serve as an impetus for the experience of a milieu of emotions such as jealousy, insecurity, sadness and anger, etc. The lack of appraisal of these emotions can cause the individual to emotionally cohere with the significant other. This loosely translates to displaying a confrontational nature where in the person tries to vehemently cement the intensity and frequency of their transactions (this is what we layman call “being clingy”).

The alternative behavioural output is avoidant in nature, characterized by the person creating a vacuum of emotional connection with the other. This behaviour operates on the logic of pre-emptive mourning and erroneous affirmative action. These people use avoidant tactics as a defense mechanism to preserve their fragile ego that would otherwise find it hard to handle this fear of unimportance. Severing transactions prematurely gives them a sense of control and placates the dread that would otherwise meld into grief. It is noteworthy how both the confrontational and avoidant actions are self-fulfilling in nature.

At the cosmic level, this fear is more ubiquitous and sets the narrative for us that is not just satirical, but also slightly malicious. What’s ironic is that we seem to fear a state of being that we’re already in; we essentially just fear ourselves. Why do we fear what we already are? As living organisms in this vast and glorious universe, we are nothing but the embodiment of irrelevance. There is perhaps a certain solace in knowing that the universe holds an entire treasure of callous disregard for our finite and absurd existence on this planet. What I find entirely bewildering is that so few of us really become cognizant of this expansive insignificance we imbue, perhaps it’s because we are, after all, creatures of self-interest.

This fear of becoming a residual form in life is what drives almost every one of us to attain certain materialistic, tangible goals. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why history is valued and revered; it is the epitome of our predecessor’s attempts to combat this mortal dread. This is why success as a measure of greatness and fame is valued while the mediocre life is unfairly stigmatized. We’re constantly reinforcing ourselves to reach for an extravagant level of success in order to palliate this inherent dread we possess. We’ve convinced ourselves that creating something that lasts, something that will stand the test of time even a little bit longer than our own decaying biological architectures will help us mitigate this all-consuming anxiety.

Our way of life is a perennial, punishing and fallacious quest for permanence.