An Argument for Extinction

The most nihilistic book you'll ever read.

In The Conspiracy Against the Human Race Thomas Ligotti argues that human beings are as insignificant as flies.

The Norwegian philosopher Peter Wessel Zapffe says it is “a damning surplus of consciousness” which makes people think their lives have meaning. Ligotti frequently summons Zapffe to strengthen his ideas around consciousness and suffering. At times the book seems to be as much a summary of Zapffe’s “The Last Messiah” essay, as it is a collection of Ligotti’s thoughts.

Zapffe argues that “Most people learn to save themselves by artificially limiting the content of consciousness.” It is distraction which stops us from going insane, be this in the form of art, relationships or work. Everything in our society is designed to keep our brains from becoming aware of the fact that we are nothing more than deteriorating husks.

Ligotti examines different branches of pessimism and nihilism, arguing that aside from Nietzsche, the reason these other “hardcore” philosophers like Zapffe never broke into the mainstream was because they were too negative. Their prognosis’s of mass extinction and suicide as an end to human suffering were not well received.

That is why the book is titled The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. Ligotti thinks the biggest lie humanity has been sold is that our lives have meaning. He writes “Human suffering will remain insoluble as long as human beings exist.” So what is his solution? A collective refusal by the human race to keep on living. What if we stopped procreating? What if we acknowledged that life is painful and to save any future generations experiencing this pain we cease procreating. This is the main point Ligotti wants to leave the reader with, that there may be something noble and even sane in discontinuing the human race.

The book loses some of its steam towards the end as Ligotti, a horror writer, delves into the genre which he has devoted his life to. A genre which has distracted him from the pain of his own existence while giving him a platform to complain about said existence.

But Ligotti gets in your head.

As I sit here writing this post on a hot day in Gdansk, I pause to acknowledge the fact that I am nothing more than a dying primate, blessed with the gift of consciousness.