“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
He laced up his shoes and stepped outside. He looked left, looked right, then dashed toward the pavement. He was wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt with the arms cut off at the shoulder. Through his earbuds he listened to a symphony of classic rock and old school R&B.
What he didn’t hear was the sound of the birds chirping overhead. The sounds of traffic moving back and forth along the street. A car horn honked in the distance. The sky was a bright blue, with no clouds in sight.
In an instant the serenity of the moment gave way to chaos. Sirens blared in the distance and cop cars approached Henry on the sidewalk. They whipped in front of him and stepped out of the car, guns drawn.
“Henry Stuart!” The nearest cop shouted. “Put your hands in the air. You are under arrest.”
Henry sat at a table in the courtroom. He looked around at the architecture of the room, where everything was made of solid, earthy wood and leather. The room was as old as the institution of law, and the oaky, musky smell betrayed the otherwise fancy decor.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Disdain.”
Disdain was an old man, weathered and wrinkled by time. He carried himself with poise toward the judge’s chair and beckoned for the trial to begin.
The prosecutor, a woman in her forties, stepped to the bench and began her speech. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we have before you a man who is on trial for the most heinous of crimes. He is accused of toxic positivity and for willfully spreading false hope to those who need professional help.”
The prosecutor had never lost a case. She wore a black business skirt with a white dress shirt and horn-rimmed glasses, and she stared through Henry as she spoke.
“The prosecution will prove that this method, this false doctrine, is not only damaging, but also irresponsible.” She continued. “We will show that his message of positivity and hope makes people feel uncomfortable and leads them to ignore their own negative emotions. We will show how this toxic view can make people try to avoid their negative feelings and lead them to further despair. He is a con artist, your honor, and we will prove that today.”
She moved to the table opposite Henry and sat with the rest of her counsel, a group of social justice warriors who were all scowling.
“Duly noted.” Disdain replied. “The defense may approach the bench.”
Henry’s defense lawyer was an old man with grey hair. He stood and moved to the front of the room slowly, as if the baggage of being a lawyer was stuffed into a pack that was on his shoulders. When he got to the front of the room, he turned and began to speak.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, my name is Reason, and I am here to defend my client, Mr. Henry Stuart.” He gestured toward Henry and continued. “The prosecution will claim that he is guilty of toxic positivity, and I am here to posit that such a thing does not exist. That my client cannot be charged with a crime that isn’t real and that he must be set free immediately.”
The trial was short. A total of three witnesses were called to the bench. Friedrich Nietzsche was the first to be examined.
“Mr. Nietzsche, could you explain for the jury what your philosophy is all about?” The prosecution asked.
Nietzsche nodded. “Yes ma’am. In its simplest form, I suggest that everything you’ve been taught to believe is a lie. You’ve been told that there is a god that cares about you and that the purpose of your life is to serve him so that you can go to heaven one day.
“I’m here to tell you that is nonsense. Life has no meaning or purpose. And that people merely use religion as a crutch because they do not want to face the truth.”
“And what truth is that?” The prosecution asked.
“That everyone you’ve ever loved or ever known is going to die and, when that happens, you are never going to see them again.” Nietzsche replied. “We have outgrown christianity, not because we moved too far from it, but, rather, we have lived too close to it.”
“Can you explain?” The prosecution asked.
“Essentially christianity and any belief like it is a construct of human intellect.” Nietzsche replied. “God is dead, and we have killed him.”
“No further questions, your honor.”
Judge Disdain looked at the defense. “Your witness, counsel.”
Reason stood and approached the bench. “Mr. Nietzsche, you claim that life is meaningless and that no objective truth exists. I’m just wondering, how can you know that?”
Nietzsche smiled. “How can we know anything, really? If objective truth doesn’t exist, then all we ever have are subjective realities.”
“True, but your entire construct is built upon the supposition that we can never know what is objective truth.” Reason said. “But there are objective truths. For example…”
Reason knocked on the bench.
“I know what that is going to sound like when I knock on it.” Reason said, and then he reached up and stroked Nietzsche’s cheek. The members of the courtroom laughed. “I knew what that was going to feel like before I did it. Objective truths are those tiny truths that we take for granted.”
Nietzsche nodded. “You’re speaking of a local truth, and I am talking more about cosmic truth.”
“Yet you can’t produce any evidence to support your claims.” Reason replied. “So, how can you know what you are saying is true?”
“I don’t.” Nietzsche replied. “That’s kind of the point.”
“No further questions, your honor.” Reason replied.
The second witness, Aristotle, was brought to the bench.
“Aristotle, you have been considered by many to be the father of determinism.” The prosecutor said. “Could you give us a brief summary of what that means?”
“Yes I can.” Aristotle replied. “But just know that others have built upon my work, and that this isn’t my philosophy alone. What I share with you today is a summary of the various tenets of determinism as others have also contributed to it.”
“Duly noted.” The prosecutor said.
“I like that the defense knocked on the bench.” Aristotle said. “It’s a reminder that my philosophy is grounded very much in the real world. What you can see, feel, hear, taste, and touch. That’s what is real.”
“And what is real?” The prosecutor asked.
“Cause and effect.” Aristotle said. “The only objective truth is cause and effect. Action, reaction.”
“Could you explain?” The prosecutor asked.
“Imagine a pool table.” Aristotle said. “A man steps up and takes a shot. The cue hits the ball, the ball hits another ball, which sends it into the pocket. Each action is built upon the one previous. Now imagine if we start tracing the genesis, the action that led to this ball sailing into the pocket.
“Working backwards in time we would see the ball, the movement of the stick, but that is not the genesis. The man had to enter the room to pick up the pool stick. But before he came into the room, he drove to the house. If you trace it far enough back, you get to what I would call the ‘prime mover.’”
“And what is the prime mover?” The prosecutor asked.
“The first cause.” Aristotle said. “The unmoved mover. Or what we might call ‘God’.”
“So you’re a believer?” The prosecutor asked.
“Not in the way that you might think.” Aristotle said. “I would argue that free will is nonsense. That you are bound by the laws of physics, and that your entire life is predetermined by cause and effect.”
“So, to suggest that positive thinking can change your life would ultimately be futile?” The prosecutor said.
“Yes.” Aristotle said. “We have equations in physics that can predict how certain types of materials behave. I could take your pen and throw it and, using the laws of physics, could predict how and where it will land based on the size, shape, and the force with which I throw it. Those things are not susceptible to notions of the mind.”
“No further questions, your honor.” The prosecution said.
Reason approached the bench and looked at Aristotle. “You claim that life is one big deterministic illusion of choice, correct?”
Aristotle nodded.
“You also claim that life is a series of actions and reactions based on cause and effect.” Reason continued. “That if we could know all of the physical and mental properties of a person, we might be able to predict their behavior?”
Aristotle nodded. “Yes. A person is made up of their psychology, genetics, and biology. If one could know all there is to know of those things, you could predict the behavior of people with astonishing accuracy.”
“If that is the case,” Reason continued, “then why wouldn’t a thought be part of that construct?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Aristotle replied.
“Well, you say that if we are aware of people’s psychology, then we can predict their behavior.” Reason said. “A person’s thoughts are a product of their psychology, no?”
“Yes, I supposed they are.” Aristotle said.
“Then would you agree that if one were to change their thoughts, they could change their reality?”
“Objection!” The prosecutor exclaimed. “He’s leading the witness.”
Judge Disdain replied. “I’ll allow it, but get to the point Mr. Reason.”
“Of course, your honor,” Reason said and turned back to Aristotle. “You believe in cause and effect. Would you say that something could alter thoughts in the same way we alter our physical reality?”
“Yes, our thoughts are subject to cause and effect like everything else.” Aristotle said.
“Would you say that if we can alter our thoughts to be more positive, we might experience more positive effects in our lives?” Reason asked.
Aristotle paused for a moment to reflect. “Yes, we can.”
“No further questions.” Reason said.
At the end of the trial they called Henry to the stand. The prosecutor grilled him, claiming that his philosophy ignored negative feelings and made those with mental illness feel inferior. The prosecutor claimed that, by clinging to positive thinking, our thoughts become toxic when there’s negative feelings to acknowledge. A past trauma can change a person’s brain and keep them stuck in depression and/or anxiety, and positive thinking does nothing to counteract that.
By the time the defense had the opportunity to cross-examine him, the jury seemed convinced. Excessive positive thinking is toxic and harmful to anyone involved. Near the end of the cross examination, Henry asked to speak freely.
“Your honor,” he began, “it seems that the theme of these philosophies, whether you are a nihilist or deterministic, whether you ascribe to a philosophy of objective truth or not. At the end of the day, they all have one thing in common: that our realities are a product of our mind.
“Viktor Frankl suggested that free will exists in the perception of our circumstances and not the circumstances themselves. He called this idea ‘the last of the human freedoms.’ That, despite what happens to you, you will always have a choice in how you perceive things.
“Your honor, my philosophy is not outside of the bounds of anything that Nietzsche or Aristotle or any other psychologist or philosopher would suggest. I simply believe one thing: that my thoughts determine my reality. That the way I feel about my present circumstances is a product of my thoughts.
“I also believe that there are no totally good or totally bad experiences, and that our perception of what is good or bad is also a product of our thoughts. What I consider to be a bad day, another might consider to be a good day. For example, I hate rap music. If I were forced to go to a rap concert, I would be miserable. Others, however, would have the time of their life.
“So, what is the difference? Is one of us wrong? No, we are both right because we both have our own perception of rap music.”
“Mr. Stuart, please get to the point.” Judge Disdain said. “Wrap it up.”
“Yes, your honor.” Henry replied. “Essentially, what I am saying is that each situation we face has good elements and bad elements. There are very few totally bad experiences (although they do exist). But even the worst experience is temporary. It’s our thoughts about that experience that torment us.
“So, if that’s the case, then wouldn’t it make sense to try to see the positive in every experience? If our reality is truly subjective, and we are the ones who get to decide, then why wouldn’t you decide to focus on the things that make you happy?”
“Objection!” The prosecutor said. “I find this whole speech repulsive.”
“And that’s your choice.” Henry said. “I choose to be positive because I know that it doesn’t serve me to dwell on the negative. It’s really that simple. If you want to call that ‘toxic,’ you are entitled to your opinion. But I disagree.”
The courtroom was silent.
“The defense rests, your honor.” Reason said.