Philosophy

The Unborn and the Absurd: An Existentialist Reckoning

Is non-existence preferable to a life of absurdity? We pit Camus, Sartre, and Cioran against each other on the question of birth.

By Editorial · August 10, 2026 · 18 min read

Introduction

The human condition is one of paradox. We are thrust into existence without our consent, armed with a consciousness that seeks meaning in a universe that offers none. This is the foundational absurdity Albert Camus identified: the confrontation between our innate desire for clarity and the unreasonable silence of the world. While existentialist thinkers like Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre grappled with how to live in the face of this absurdity, they largely presupposed the value of the struggle itself. This essay re-examines their seminal works through a more radical lens, one provided by the philosophical pessimism of Arthur Schopenhauer, the modern antinatalism of David Benatar, and the piercing aphorisms of E.M. Cioran. We will explore whether the existentialist’s leap of rebellion or commitment is a sufficient answer not just to the question of *how* to live, but to the more fundamental question of *whether* one should have been made to live at all.

Core Argument

This essay argues that while traditional existentialism, particularly the work of Camus and Sartre, offers a compelling framework for creating meaning in a meaningless world, it fails to adequately justify the imposition of existence itself. The existentialist "solution" to the absurd—rebellion, freedom, and passionate engagement—is a post-hoc rationalization for a predicament we are already in. When read against the critiques of Cioran and the systematic antinatalism of Benatar, the existentialist celebration of life appears as a valiant but ultimately insufficient response to the inherent harms and asymmetries of existence. The core of our argument is this: the existentialist project of creating value does not negate the pessimist’s claim that it is better never to have been. The struggle against the absurd, however noble, does not retroactively justify the creation of the struggler.

Historical Background

The philosophical soil for this debate was tilled in the 19th century by Arthur Schopenhauer. In *The World as Will and Representation*, he posited a blind, ceaselessly striving Will as the fundamental reality. Life, as a manifestation of this Will, is an endless cycle of desire, temporary satisfaction, and new desire, with suffering as its default state. "It would be better for us if there were nothing," Schopenhauer famously concluded, laying the intellectual groundwork for philosophical pessimism. His thought directly challenged the Hegelian optimism of his time and planted the seeds of doubt about the intrinsic value of existence.

In the aftermath of two World Wars, this pessimism found new expression in the existentialist movement. Jean-Paul Sartre’s *Being and Nothingness* (1943) and Albert Camus’s *The Myth of Sisyphus* (1942) became canonical texts. For Sartre, existence precedes essence; we are "condemned to be free," tasked with creating our own values and essence through our choices. He emphasized radical freedom and the responsibility that comes with it. Camus, on the other hand, focused on the Absurd, the irreconcilable gap between our human longing for meaning and the universe’s silent indifference. His solution was not suicide or a leap of faith, but rebellion: to live in full, conscious revolt against our fate, much like Sisyphus, who finds meaning in scorning the gods through his eternal, pointless labor.

Running parallel to these French existentialists was the Romanian thinker E.M. Cioran. Having experienced the horrors of 20th-century Europe, Cioran’s work, particularly *The Trouble with Being Born* (1973), took a darker, more lyrical turn. For Cioran, birth itself is the primary catastrophe. He writes not with the systematic argumentation of a philosopher like David Benatar, but with the incisive, poetic despair of a man who felt the burden of consciousness as an unbearable weight. He is the bridge between the existentialist’s lucid awareness of the absurd and the antinatalist’s conclusion that the only way to win the game is not to play.

Supporting Evidence

The primary evidence for our argument lies in a critical rereading of these thinkers. Let us begin with Camus. In *The Myth of Sisyphus*, he explicitly rejects suicide as a response to the absurd. The correct response is to live with passion, freedom, and rebellion. "The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." This is a powerful, life-affirming conclusion. However, it only addresses the person who is *already* existing. The happiness of Sisyphus is a coping mechanism, a way to endure an imposed sentence. Camus does not ask whether it was right to sentence Sisyphus to his eternal task in the first place.

This is where the asymmetry argument, most famously articulated by David Benatar in *Better Never to Have Been*, becomes crucial. Benatar argues that there is a crucial asymmetry between pleasure and pain. The presence of pain is bad, and the presence of pleasure is good. However, the *absence* of pain is good, even if no one is there to enjoy it, whereas the *absence* of pleasure is not bad unless there is someone who is deprived of it. From this, he concludes that coming into existence is always a net harm. The new person will experience harms (bad), but the good they experience is not a net benefit over the non-existent state, where the absence of harm was already a good. When applied to Sisyphus, we can see that a non-existent Sisyphus is not deprived of the "happiness" of his struggle, but he is spared the certainty of his suffering (the crushing labor). The "happiness" Camus imagines is a response to suffering, not a good that outweighs it from a pre-natal perspective.

Sartre’s philosophy faces a similar challenge. For Sartre, our radical freedom is the source of our dignity but also our anguish. We are responsible for creating not just our own essence, but an image of humanity for all. This is a tremendous burden. As Cioran might say, "It is not that we have been thrown into the world, but that we have been thrown into a responsibility that is too large for us." Sartre sees this burden as the price of our magnificent freedom. However, the antinatalist question again arises: why impose this burden at all? The freedom to choose your own meaning is only valuable if you are forced to exist in a meaningless world to begin with. The non-existent are free from this "condemnation to be free."

Cioran provides the most direct support for this critique. He writes, "I have not done a single thing in my life that I have not regretted, except for the things I have not done." His work is a sustained meditation on the "inconvenience of being born." He sees consciousness not as a gift but as a flaw, a rupture in the perfect non-being that preceded it. Unlike Schopenhauer or Benatar, Cioran offers no system, only perfectly articulated insights into the nature of suffering and regret. He views the existentialist’s project of creating meaning with a cynical eye: it is a noble but ultimately futile game, a "philosophical therapy" to make an intolerable condition bearable. He pushes the existentialist’s lucidity to its logical, pessimistic conclusion. If the world is truly absurd and without inherent meaning, then the most logical act is not to create more participants in this cosmic farce.

Counterarguments

The most significant counterargument comes directly from the spirit of existentialism itself. A Sartrean or Camusean thinker would argue that this entire line of reasoning is a form of "bad faith" or "philosophical suicide." To focus on a hypothetical, non-existent state is to evade the concrete reality of our existence. We *are* here. The question is not whether it would have been better not to be, but what we are to do *now*. The value of life is not something to be discovered in a pre-natal calculus; it is something to be *created* through action, choice, and rebellion. The joy of a shared meal, the beauty of art, the solidarity in struggle—these are real, tangible goods created by existing beings. To deny their value in favor of the "good" of non-existence is to miss the point of human life entirely.

Another powerful counterargument is the "Deprivation Argument." This view, often associated with thinkers like Derek Parfit, suggests that non-existence can be a harm if it deprives an individual of a life that would have been worth living. If a potential life would contain a great deal of happiness and fulfillment, then preventing that life from starting is to deprive it of those goods. This directly challenges Benatar's asymmetry. From this perspective, choosing not to create a life that would have been filled with joy and meaning is a bad outcome. An existentialist might adopt this view by arguing that the opportunity to engage in the noble struggle, to create meaning and experience the passions of existence, is a great good. To deny someone this opportunity for fear of suffering is an act of profound pessimism that ultimately devalues the human capacity for greatness.

Finally, a more practical counterargument is that the antinatalist conclusion leads to a sterile and life-denying ethics. It logically culminates in the extinction of humanity, which many would see as the ultimate tragedy. The existentialist, by contrast, affirms life in the face of its absurdity. The project of humanity, for all its flaws and suffering, is to continue, to create, and to endure. The love, art, and knowledge we create are passed down through generations. To end this project based on a pessimistic calculation is to surrender to the absurd rather than to rebel against it.

Rebuttals

While these counterarguments hold significant weight, they do not fully dismantle the pessimistic critique. Let us rebut them in turn.

The charge of "bad faith" is a powerful rhetorical move, but it is ultimately a form of question-begging. It presupposes that the only valid philosophical inquiry is about the *management* of existence. The antinatalist is not evading the question of what to do now; many, like Benatar, offer compassionate ethical frameworks for existing people. Instead, they are asking a different, prior question: the ethics of procreation itself. To dismiss this question as "bad faith" is to arbitrarily restrict the scope of philosophical inquiry. It is not an evasion to ask whether a game is worth starting, even if you are already a player.

Regarding the Deprivation Argument, it rests on the controversial claim that a potential person can be "deprived." A non-existent being cannot be deprived of anything because there is no subject to experience the deprivation. As philosopher Jan Narveson notes, we have duties to actual people, not to possible people. The pleasure that a future person would experience does not exist until the person exists. The suffering they would experience, however, becomes a real harm once they are created. The antinatalist argues that while we do not have a duty to create happy people, we *do* have a duty to not create unhappy people. Since every life contains some suffering, and we can never guarantee a life of pure happiness, the only way to fulfill the duty to prevent suffering is not to create the person in the first place.

Finally, the argument that antinatalism is a "life-denying" ethics that leads to extinction misses the point. The antinatalist position is not born of hatred for life, but from a profound compassion for the suffering inherent within it. Thinkers like Thomas Ligotti, in *The Conspiracy Against the Human Race*, argue that consciousness itself is the source of our torment. From this perspective, voluntary extinction is not a tragedy but the cessation of a pointless, brutal drama. It is not "life-denying" but "suffering-denying." The existentialist’s celebration of passing on the "project of humanity" can be reframed as a "Ponzi scheme of suffering," where each generation creates the next to validate its own struggles, imposing the same burdens anew. The compassionate choice, the pessimist argues, is to stop the cycle.

Conclusion

The dialogue between existentialism and antinatalism reveals a profound tension in modern thought. The existentialists, born from the crucible of war and nihilism, provided a powerful antidote to despair: a philosophy of radical freedom, rebellion, and subjective meaning. They taught us how to stand firm in a godless universe and create value through our own defiant acts. However, this heroic posture does not resolve the more fundamental ethical question posed by Schopenhauer, Cioran, and Benatar: the justification of birth itself. The existentialist’s focus is on the existing subject, and their solution is a creative and courageous response to an imposed condition. The antinatalist, however, widens the frame, asking whether the condition should have been imposed at all.

Ultimately, the existentialist project, for all its nobility, appears as a form of damage control. It is the most inspiring way to live out a sentence we never chose. The rebellion of Sisyphus is magnificent, but it does not erase the injustice of his condemnation. The freedom Sartre describes is profound, but it is a freedom within a prison. Cioran’s lucid despair serves as a necessary corrective, reminding us that the awareness of absurdity can lead not only to rebellion, but to a deep and abiding regret for the "trouble with being born." While we who exist must, as Camus insisted, embrace the struggle, we must also confront the uncomfortable possibility that the most ethical and compassionate act is to refrain from creating new strugglers for the heights.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the core difference between existentialism and antinatalism?

Existentialism primarily deals with the problem of how an existing individual can find meaning and live authentically in a meaningless universe. It focuses on concepts like freedom, responsibility, and rebellion. Antinatalism, on the other hand, is an ethical position that deals with the problem of procreation itself. It argues that it is morally wrong to bring new sentient beings into existence because life inevitably contains suffering.

Didn't Camus reject pessimism?

Yes, absolutely. Camus explicitly positioned his philosophy of the Absurd *against* nihilism and what he saw as philosophical pessimism. He believed that acknowledging the meaninglessness of the universe should not lead to resignation or suicide, but to a joyful and rebellious affirmation of life. The point of this essay is to argue that while his conclusion is a powerful guide for those already living, it doesn't fully address the antinatalist question of whether one should be brought into life in the first place.

Is antinatalism a form of depression or mental illness?

No. Antinatalism is a philosophical position arrived at through logical argument, most famously David Benatar's asymmetry argument about pain and pleasure. While individuals who are suffering may find the philosophy resonant, the argument itself does not depend on an emotional state. It is an ethical theory about the value of existence and the morality of procreation, not a psychological diagnosis.

What would Sartre say about antinatalism?

Sartre would likely view antinatalism as a form of "bad faith"—an attempt to escape the radical freedom and responsibility that define the human condition. For Sartre, to exist is to be condemned to be free and to create value. He would likely argue that the antinatalist is trying to appeal to a non-existent state to avoid the burden and glory of this creative responsibility. He would champion the act of choosing to create and affirm life and value, even in a meaningless world.

If life is so bad, why don't antinatalists just commit suicide?

This is a common but fallacious ad hominem argument. First, there is a significant moral difference between ending an existing life (which involves complex considerations about the person's desires, relationships, and the act of killing) and refraining from starting a new one. Second, as David Benatar argues, just because existence is a net harm does not mean that death is always the best option for an existing person. The process of dying can be painful, and life, while a harm, may still contain some goods that one is not yet ready to relinquish. The core antinatalist claim is about procreation, not suicide.

Does antinatalism mean you hate children?

On the contrary, proponents argue that antinatalism comes from a place of profound compassion. The argument is that because every life will contain significant suffering, the most compassionate act is to prevent that suffering from ever occurring. It is not about a dislike for children, but a desire to spare potential future people from the inevitable harms of existence.

How can anyone say life isn't worth it when there is so much joy and beauty?

The antinatalist argument does not deny the existence of joy and beauty. Instead, it argues that these goods do not outweigh the harms. According to Benatar's asymmetry argument, the absence of the pains of life (like disease, loss, and anxiety) is a good thing, even if no one exists to experience it. The absence of the pleasures of life, however, is not bad for a non-existent person. Therefore, the choice to procreate creates real harm (the suffering the person will endure) to achieve a good (the pleasure) that was not needed, as the non-existent person was not deprived of it. It’s a risk-averse and compassionate calculus.