What Becomes of Us When Stripped of Our Illusions?
We live amidst illusions so deeply woven into the fabric of our lives that most of us mistake them for reality. They are comforting shrouds — myths of permanence, constructs of meaning, the false coherence of identity, the allure of progress. These illusions sustain us, individually and collectively, like fragile scaffolding around a crumbling edifice. But what happens when these illusions are stripped away? What is left of the person? What is left of society?
This is not a question I pose lightly. It haunts me in moments of solitude, in the spaces between my thoughts, and when I look out at the world teetering on its fragile assumptions. Today, I embark on this thought experiment, not to seek answers, but to provoke questions that unsettle the foundations of comfort.
The Anatomy of Illusions
To understand what remains when illusions are stripped away, we must first dissect what these illusions are. Philosophically, they range from the existential — our sense of self, our belief in free will — to the societal : the notions of fairness, justice, and collective progress. Scientifically, they extend to our cognitive biases: our brain’s knack for pattern-seeking and meaning-making, even in randomness.
Take identity, for instance. I see myself as my-name, a man with a history, a web of relationships, and a collection of beliefs. But is that identity anything more than a story my mind tells itself? If I peel back the layers of memory, social conditioning, and biological drives, am I left with something essential? Or is the “self” merely an illusion — a construct that helps me navigate the chaos?
Similarly, society thrives on shared illusions. Money, nations, and laws are not tangible entities; they are abstractions, consensual hallucinations we agree to believe in because they organize the unmanageable entropy of existence. What happens when that agreement collapses?
Ruminating on the Individual Without Illusion
Imagine waking up one day with no illusions. The stories you tell yourself about who you are, what you want, and why you matter dissolve into nothingness. You see the bare mechanics of your being : neurons firing, hormones surging, a brain oscillating in recursive patterns to sustain an experience of “you.” Without the illusion of purpose, the world becomes raw, stripped of the narratives that soften its harshness.
Would this clarity liberate or annihilate? Would it lead to transcendence or despair?
Consider the sages and mystics who sought this state deliberately. Buddhism teaches that the self is an illusion, yet it offers no easy answers about what to do once this illusion is seen through. Nietzsche warned of nihilism — the abyss that stares back when our illusions collapse. But he also spoke of the Übermensch, the one who could create values anew in the face of that abyss. Is that our calling in the absence of illusions? To become creators rather than believers?
A Society Devoid of Shared Illusions
Now, scale this thought experiment to society. If individuals lose their illusions, society unravels. Without the belief in justice, can laws bind us? Without the faith in progress, what motivates innovation? Without shared myths, how do we foster solidarity?
This is not merely hypothetical. Consider the erosion of trust in modern institutions — the media, governments, even science. We are witnessing a crisis of shared belief. The post-truth world is not just a breakdown of facts but a breakdown of collective illusion. When truth becomes relative, and narratives fragment, society itself begins to atomize.
What might replace the crumbling edifice of shared illusion? Could we rebuild on the foundations of transparency and reason, or would the absence of illusions lead to chaos and tribalism? History offers conflicting lessons. The Enlightenment sought to strip away superstition and elevate reason, yet it birthed its own dogmas. Revolutionaries often dismantle old illusions only to replace them with new ones. Is the human condition inherently tied to illusion?
The Paradox of Illusion and Reality
Here lies the paradox : illusions both bind us and blind us. They provide coherence to the incoherent, meaning to the meaningless. Stripping them away might reveal the truth, but truth is not inherently kind or bearable.
Is it possible, then, to live without illusions yet retain meaning? This question brings me to the philosophical crossroads of absurdism. Camus argued that we must embrace the absurd — the tension between our desire for meaning and the universe’s indifference — without resorting to illusion. Can an individual live authentically, fully aware of life’s lack of inherent meaning, yet create their own?
If stripped of illusions, would we embrace truth or crumble under its weight?
The answer lies in the interplay between clarity and resilience. Embracing truth requires not just intellectual courage but emotional fortitude. Truth is rarely gentle; it often dismantles our comforting narratives, leaving behind an unsettling void. Some may embrace this void as a canvas for creating their own meaning, as Camus suggested in The Myth of Sisyphus. For others, the weight of truth may feel unbearable, leading to existential paralysis or despair. I believe the response depends on how prepared one is to face the chaos of existence without a script. For those who have cultivated curiosity, reflection, and a sense of inner agency, truth might feel liberating — a step closer to authenticity. But for those whose lives are deeply enmeshed in illusion, the confrontation with truth could feel like a slow, crushing tide. Ultimately, embracing truth requires us to redefine strength — not as avoidance but as the ability to stand unflinching in the face of the infinite.
Is disillusionment a mark of wisdom or a path to despair?
Disillusionment is a double-edged sword. It often begins with pain — the loss of cherished beliefs, the erosion of certainties. In its rawest form, it can feel like despair, as it strips away the comforting veneer of meaning. Yet, disillusionment can also mark the first step toward wisdom. Wisdom emerges when disillusionment is not an endpoint but a gateway. It allows us to question not just the illusions we lose but the assumptions we continue to hold. If we can sit with the discomfort of disillusionment, resist the temptation to replace old illusions with new ones, and cultivate the courage to navigate ambiguity, we may find something deeper — a clarity that transcends despair. However, despair and wisdom often walk hand in hand. To see clearly what is — and what isn’t — can feel like a burden. The challenge lies in transforming that burden into insight, allowing disillusionment to be not just a mark of wisdom but a path to it.
Can a society thrive on truth alone, or do shared fictions sustain the fabric of civilization?
Society, as we know it, thrives on shared fictions. Nations, money, morality, and even the concept of “rights” are constructs — agreements that give coherence to collective life. These fictions are not inherently deceptive; they are tools that enable cooperation on a massive scale. As Harari argues in Sapiens, shared myths allowed humans to transcend tribalism and build complex societies. But can a society function on truth alone? Truth, by its nature, is fragmented, nuanced, and often uncomfortable. Without shared fictions to simplify and unite, society might fragment into competing truths, eroding the cohesion that allows civilizations to function.
This does not mean we should blindly cling to all fictions. Societies must balance truth and illusion, replacing harmful myths with empowering ones while grounding their actions in reality. Perhaps the ultimate goal is not a society of pure truth but one where shared fictions are consciously chosen, transparent, and aligned with human flourishing. Without shared fictions, humanity risks chaos. Without truth, it risks stagnation.
If the self is an illusion, who or what suffers when that illusion dissolves?
The question assumes that suffering belongs to an individual self, but if the self is an illusion, this assumption unravels. What we call “suffering” might instead be the organism’s resistance to change — a psychological and physiological reaction to the destabilization of its narrative coherence. When the illusion of self dissolves, it is not “someone” who suffers; it is the residual attachment to the illusion that creates discomfort. Yet, paradoxically, the dissolution of self can also lead to liberation. Mystics and neuroscientists alike suggest that the self is a construct — a useful, adaptive fiction created by the brain to navigate reality. Its dissolution can feel like a loss, but it can also bring freedom from the confines of ego, attachment, and the perpetual striving for validation. What remains when the illusion of self fades? Awareness. Presence. The raw, unfiltered experience of being. The suffering, if it arises, is temporary — a byproduct of transition, like a wound healing after surgery. In time, what suffers dissolves with the illusion itself, leaving a spaciousness that is neither “self” nor “other,” only the vast field of consciousness.
A Delicate Balancing Act (conclusion)
I am not here to dismantle your illusions or even my own. I am here to reflect on their fragile beauty and profound necessity. Perhaps the goal is not to strip away all illusions but to choose them consciously, to live with the awareness that they are scaffolds, not foundations.
As I write this, I realize that even my musings are laced with illusion — the illusion that thought and writing can capture something true. Perhaps that is the final lesson : even the pursuit of truth is an illusion, yet it is an illusion worth chasing. For in the chase, we find ourselves — not as we are, but as we could be.
What becomes of us when stripped of all illusions? Perhaps nothing. Or perhaps everything.
Thanks for dropping by !
Disclaimer : Everything written above, I owe to the great minds I’ve encountered and the voices I’ve heard along the way.