Yes-Saying

"I want to learn more and more how to see what is necessary in things as what is beautiful in them - thus I will be one of those who makes things beautiful. Amor fati: let that be my love from now on! I do not want to wage war against ugliness. I do not want to accuse; I do not even want to accuse the accusers. Let looking away be my only negation! And, all in all and on the whole: some day I want only to be a Yes-sayer!"

- Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, aphorism 276

"To redeem the past and to transform every 'It was' into an 'I wanted it thus!' - that alone do I call redemption."

- Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, chapter 42

Amor fati! Love for one’s fate. Perhaps no idea runs more contrary to what is my natural disposition. My tendency is not to love my fate but to oppose it. But for this very reason, I find Nietzsche’s suggestion profoundly attractive. What if instead of lamenting and resisting the way things are, I offered myself up to it completely, reconciling with it and learning actually to love it? What would it look like to want things to be the way they are?

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My grandfather loves to say, it’s better to want what you get than to get what you want. A Stoic principle if there ever was one. And if you’ve read my Substack, you know I am no fan of Stoicism. But despite my misgivings, I do find this philosophy intriguing and maybe even inspiring. I can see how it can cultivate a sense of inner peace, something I am generally not great at.

I toss and turn, I writhe and scream, I make space for lament and mourning, and I encourage others to do so. My event series Despair Sanctuary is nothing if not an opportunity for people to sit in hatred of the status quo, to grieve the past, and to groan under the weight of necessity. It is diametrically opposed to the notion of loving your fate.

But opposites attract. I find Nietzsche’s philosophy exciting precisely because it is so different from my own. He taught the notion of “the eternal return,” which maintains that everything that occurs in life will happen again and again exactly the same way for eternity. In Beyond Good and Evil he calls it “the ideal of the most world-approving, exuberant and vivacious man, who has not only learnt to compromise and arrange with that which was and is, but wishes to have it again as it was and is, for all eternity.”1 For Nietzsche, the eternal return is the ultimate Yes-saying, the ultimate affirmation of life. It is the opposite of nihilism.

Despite Nietzsche’s claims to originality, the doctrine of the eternal return is not all that different from the Stoic theology of divine providence, which states that everything that occurs is part of God’s perfect will and should be received as such. Epictetus said, “The only thought of a good man is … to will things to be as they are, and to say what Socrates used to say, ‘If this be God’s will, so be it.’”2

The theologian John Calvin taught the same. He wrote, “all events are governed by the secret counsel of God,” and so “the faithful should rather encourage themselves in adversity with this consolation, that they suffer no affliction, but by the ordination and command of God, because they are under his hand.”3

G. W. F. Hegel remixed this theology somewhat, but still insisted that “the real world is as it ought to be.”4 Philosophy, he said, “wishes … to justify the scorned reality of things.”5 His remix was to suggest that reason is the governing principle of the world. He stated plainly, “reason rules the world,” so that “world history … has constituted the rational, necessary course of the world-spirit.”6

The effect of these three theologies is to make the world as it is necessary. Whether history is understood as the work of God’s perfect will, or the unfolding of a rational process, for these theologians we are supposed to accept all events as necessary.

Nietzsche famously rejected theism. He rejected all attempts to interpret history as a series of causes and effects. He said, “the belief in the will as the cause of effects is the belief in forces that work by magic.”7 And yet, ironically, the net outcome of his philosophy of the eternal return is to justify things as they are in effectively the same way as the theologians Epictetus, Calvin, and Hegel. The eternal return is Nietzsche’s doctrine of redemption. It is his version of, in Hegel’s words, “[justifying] the scorned reality of things.” As such, it entails the same drawbacks of theologies of providence.

The drawbacks are: all events, those which harm and those which heal, those that produce life and those that bring death, those that horrify and those that comfort, are treated the same. They are all rendered good. 9/11, the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the holocaust, the transatlantic slave trade, the genocide of Native Americans—all of it is supposed to be good. Every “It was” should be “I wanted it thus!”

I contend that this philosophy is impossible to maintain. We have seen too much. We have known too much horror to go along with the idea that everything that happens is perfect and divine. Trauma survivors hold the insight here. To accept every event as a necessary part of a rational process, as the work of a perfect will, or as the amoral play of fate, is to deny the truth of genuine horror. It is a coping mechanism that undermines reality. It may be comforting, but it is not truthful.

In truth, some events are evil. They are traumatic. They horrify. Their horror is beyond our ability to convey. They are not just painful, but unbearable. They do not just hurt, but kill. They do not just wound, but destroy.

Nietzsche is the originator of the quote, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”8 And truth be told, he said it as someone who knew a lot of pain. He would suffer migraines for days. He had to wear thick sunglasses and a visor, or sit in total darkness because light was so painful to his eyes. He was often incapable of reading or writing, and had to dictate much of his works (which is why he wrote in aphorisms rather than long essays). He was relieved of teaching because of his health, and travelled often in search of the right climate. He had more reason than most to complain of misfortune, and so it is surprising that he proffered such a radical affirmation of life as the eternal return. Nevertheless, not everything will make you stronger. Trauma survivors know, we are in no way better for having experienced trauma. Some things take away and give nothing in return.

And yet I wonder, is there a Yes-saying for trauma survivors? Is there a way to reconcile yourself with the way things are without accepting it as inevitable, and without rendering all events as necessary and good? I wonder, is there a Stoicism for revolutionaries? Is there a way to cultivate an inner peace, to affirm all of life, and at the same time to resist the status quo and refuse to acquiesce in the face of power?

These are important questions for us to consider in the year 2025. I cannot affirm the election of Donald Trump as the work of a rational process. I cannot accept it as the work of a perfect will. Nor can I embrace Trump in a spirit of Yes-saying. I cannot turn this “It was” into “I wanted it thus.” To do so would be denial. Instead, I must resist. For the planet cries out for resistance. Life itself demands better.

But I also know I have to pace myself. I do give myself permission to dread, and maybe even to wallow in dread, but I cannot be overcome by it. I will not be a defeatist. Nietzsche helps me here. He reminds me of the staggering human will to creativity. His prophet Zarathustra bemoans the squandering of human potential and calls the human “to create beyond itself” and to create freedom.9 He calls us to courage. He says courage is the way to “overcome all pain.”10 Nietzsche’s philosophy is not just a tearing-down of old values, but a building-up of new ones, a call for humanity to herald a new dawn.

“For the game of creation,” he says, “a sacred yes-saying is necessary.”11 It is a kind of improvisation, which is based on the principle of “yes-and.” Yes, Donald Trump was elected—and, I will create an alternative. Yes, fascism has power—and, I will resist. Yes, I cannot change the past—and, I will change the future.

Acceptance does not have to mean capitulation.

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