Staring into the Void

The Dark Side of Deconstruction

The mass migration out of religion in recent years has a dark side. It’s been given many names: “meaning crisis”, “nihilism”, “existential dread”. It’s not a new phenomenon and a fairly predictable one.

It can be useful to pull back the lens for a wider view on any given phenomenon - in this case, the leaving-religion process of religious deconstruction. We tend to think of “religious deconstruction” as an individual’s efforts to untether themselves from religion. It involves critically examining, questioning, and often dismantling the beliefs, practices, and frameworks of a religion one has inherited or participated in. It’s a complex and volatile process, which I have been writing about lately.

There are larger societal dynamics that spark widespread cultural skepticism and disfavor of religion, resulting in existential ruptures.

The first major existential cultural crisis in Western history is often traced to the 19th century, during the decline of religious authority and the rise of modernity.

Human History as Cultural Epochs

Modernity is a cultural epoch. Cultural epochs are distinct periods in history defined by transformative shifts in a society’s values, artistic expression, intellectual paradigms, and social organization. It’s more than a timeline marker—it’s a collective mood, a worldview, and a symbolic framework that shapes how people understand themselves and their place in the world.

Some defining features of a cultural epoch include:

• Unique cultural signatures: Each epoch has its own dominant art forms, architectural styles, philosophies, and technologies.

• Societal transformation: Epochs often emerge from chaos or rupture, leading to new norms, institutions, and symbolic systems.

• Cross-disciplinary impact: They influence literature, music, science, politics, and religion—creating waves of change across domains.

At risk of oversimplification and reductionistic explanation, the cultural epochs that make sense to mention and briefly summarize in this article are as follows:

🏛️ Pre-modern (Before 1650): Sacred order, divine authority, mythic consciousness.

🔬 Modern (1650-1950s): Rationalism, progress, science, and secular humanism.

🌀 Postmodern (1950s-2000s): Irony, fragmentation, deconstruction of grand narratives.

🔄 Metamodern (2000s-present): Oscillation between sincerity and irony, integration of paradox, and emergence of pluralistic meaning-making.

There are several factors that sparked the first cultural existential crisis in the West in the 1880s, including:

1️⃣ The “Death of God” – Nietzsche (1880s)

• Friedrich Nietzsche declared “God is dead”, signaling the collapse of religious authority and moral absolutes.

• This wasn’t just theological—it was cultural. Western civilization lost its central narrative of divine purpose.

2️⃣ Industrialization & Scientific Disruption

• Darwin’s Origin of Species (1859) challenged creationist views.

• The mechanistic universe of Newton gave way to uncertainty and alienation.

• Humanity was no longer the center of the cosmos.

3️⃣ Rise of Individualism & Urbanization

• Traditional communities fragmented.

• People faced anonymity, isolation, and moral ambiguity in rapidly growing cities.

• The question “What does it mean to be human?” became urgent.

4️⃣ Kierkegaard & the Birth of Existential Thought

• Søren Kierkegaard explored anxiety, despair, and the leap of faith.

• He laid the groundwork for existentialism—a movement that grappled with the givens of human existence outside the religious framework.

• Thinkers like Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and later Sartre and Camus responded to the emotional and spiritual fallout of modernity.

Modernity triggered existential crisis because of several shifts that destabilized traditional meaning systems, including:

1. Decline of Religious Authority

Modernity, especially during the Enlightenment, emphasized reason and scientific inquiry over faith. As religious narratives lost cultural dominance, people were left without a transcendent framework for meaning, morality, and identity. Nietzsche’s declaration that “God is dead” wasn’t just provocative—it signaled the collapse of a shared moral cosmos.

2. Rise of Scientific Rationalism

Figures like Darwin and Galileo replaced mythic and theological explanations with mechanistic, impersonal models of reality. Humanity was no longer the center of the universe, but a biological accident in a vast, indifferent cosmos. This led to feelings of alienation and insignificance.

3. Industrialization and Urbanization

Modern life became increasingly fragmented and impersonal. Traditional communities gave way to bureaucratic systems and market-driven societies. Individuals were surrounded by strangers, disconnected from ancestral rhythms and symbolic anchors.

4. Loss of Grand Narratives

Modernity promised progress, freedom, and rational order—but the horrors of war, colonialism, and technological destruction exposed its shadow side. The result: a crisis of confidence in the very ideals that modernity championed.

Since that day, Western culture has crossed through multiple cultural epochs from modernity to postmodernity and then to metamodernity. A general framework to understand cultural epoch transitions is to see them as a response to and critique of the epoch preceding it.

The shift from postmodernity to metamodernity marks a profound cultural and philosophical evolution. Postmodernism emerged as a direct cultural and philosophical response to modernity, challenging its core assumptions and exposing its blind spots. If modernity was the confident march of reason, science, and progress, postmodernism was the skeptical whisper that asked, “But whose truth is this?”

Modernity built cathedrals of thought—reason, order, and control. This included rationalism and scientific objectivity, linear progress and human mastery over nature, universal truths and grand narratives, stable identities and centralized institutions. But by the mid-20th century, cracks began to show: world wars, colonial collapse, existential despair, and the rise of mass media all destabilized the modernist dream.

In response, the core characteristics of postmodernity were:

⚡Relativism & Skepticism

• Rejects absolute truths and universal values.

• Embraces multiple perspectives, often contradictory.

• Truth becomes contextual, shaped by discourse and power.

⚡ Deconstruction of Metanarratives

• Challenges overarching stories like progress, salvation, or reason.

• Incredulity toward metanarratives.

⚡ Fragmentation & Hyperreality

• Reality is mediated through images, simulations, and media spectacles.

• Baudrillard’s concept of hyperreality suggests we live in copies of copies—where the simulation replaces the real.

⚡Subjectivity & Identity Fluidity

• Identity is no longer fixed—it’s performative, constructed, and plural.

• Gender, race, and selfhood are seen as social constructs rather than essential truths.

⚡Distrust of Reason & Science

• Challenges the Enlightenment belief in rational progress.

• Science is viewed as a tool of dominant ideologies, not neutral truth.

⚡ Cultural Remix & Pastiche

• Art, media, and literature turned inward—mocking their own forms, breaking the fourth wall, and remixing styles without concern for coherence.

⚡Absurdism & Nihilism

• Life may have no inherent meaning—but postmodernity often embraces that with playfulness or despair.

Postmodernism didn’t just critique modernity—it exposed its limitations. The Enlightenment’s promise of reason and progress had led to war, alienation, and ecological crisis. Universal truths often masked Eurocentric, patriarchal, or colonial agendas. The modern subject—rational, autonomous, male—was no longer tenable.

Postmodernity emerged as a reaction to modernity’s grand narratives (progress, reason, universal truth). It asserted that truth is relative, and meaning is unstable. Postmodernity dismantled systems of power and knowledge. It often led to paralysis—a sense that nothing could be trusted, built, or believed.

“Religious deconstruction” was born out of postmodernity. Nietzsche’s proclamation that “God is dead” and the rise of modernity planted the seeds of distrust and the rejection of religion. But postmodernity established a framework and gave the masses the necessary tools to do the deconstruction. We can in part think Jacques Derrida for this, which I cover extensively in this article.

The shift from postmodernity to metamodernity also marks a profound cultural and philosophical evolution—from fragmentation and irony toward a dynamic interplay of sincerity, complexity, and reconstruction. It’s not a rejection of postmodernity, but a response to its exhaustion. Though we don’t have time to cover metamodernity in this article, I previously published a piece about it, Hello Metamodernism!

Welcome to the Metacrisis

I often use the above graphic by Chusana Prasertkul to depict our current “metacrisis”. The concept of “metacrisis” is related to the term “polycrisis”, which was originally coined by French philosopher and sociologist Edgar Morin. He used this word to describe a complex situation where multiple, interconnected crises converge and amplify each other, resulting in a predicament that is difficult to manage or resolve. Unlike single crises that may have clearer causes and solutions, a polycrisis involves overlapping and interdependent issues, making it a more pervasive and enduring state of instability.

The advancement of this idea in the concept of the “metacrisis” is its assertion that every independent and separate crisis we see on the surface is essentially a symptom of deeper set of dynamics beneath them. While the term “polycrisis” acknowledges the existence of multiple crises, “metacrisis” delves deeper into the underlying dynamics and systemic issues that drive these crises.

The metacrisis is often described as a “crisis of crises”—a convergence of multiple, interconnected global challenges that threaten the future of humanity and the planet. It’s not just one problem—it’s the systemic entanglement of many: ecological collapse, technological disruption, social fragmentation, spiritual disorientation, and institutional breakdown.

The concept of the metacrisis recognizes that multiple crises are not isolated events but rather interconnected and mutually reinforcing. As such, it’s vital to address the root causes of these crises rather than just treating their symptoms.

What is the root problem? Many people believe that the underlying cause of the metacrisis is a “meaning crisis”.

The “meaning crisis” is a deep cultural and psychological rupture—where individuals and societies struggle to find purpose, coherence, and belonging in a world where traditional sources of meaning have collapsed or lost credibility. It’s not just about feeling lost—it’s about the breakdown of the systems that once helped us make sense of life.

The “meaning crisis” could be characterized as:

❌ Fragmentation of identity and worldview

❌ Hyper-rationalism without soul

❌ Digital saturation and simulation

❌ Loneliness and despair despite material abundance

The meaning crisis manifests symptomatically as:

⚡ Rising rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide

⚡Loss of trust in institutions, media, and truth itself

⚡Spiritual disorientation after religious deconstruction

⚡ A hunger for depth, connection, and authenticity

What’s different about current religious deconstruction is its proliferation. Postmodernism gave us the tools to deconstruct, technology and social media provided the medium for the exponential expansions of the project.

Platforms like TikTok, Instagram, Reddit, and YouTube have have become modern-day confessionals and pulpits. People share personal stories of spiritual trauma, doubt, and liberation. Hashtags like #exvangelical, #deconstruction, and #religioustrauma create solidarity and visibility. Memes and short-form videos remix theology with humor, critique, and raw honesty.

Deconstruction in the digital age means a decentralization of authority. Traditional gatekeepers (pastors, imams, rabbis) are no longer the sole interpreters of doctrine. Anyone can become a “digital theologian” or spiritual guide. This democratization allows for pluralism—but also fragmentation and misinformation.

The marriage between religious deconstruction and social media can create algorithmic echo chambers. While digital spaces offer connection, they also risk creating ideological silos. People may only encounter voices that reinforce their disillusionment or anger. Nuanced reconstruction can be drowned out by performative outrage or shallow critique.

Digital natives construct spiritual identities like playlists—curated, fluid, and remixable. Tarot, astrology, somatic healing, and nature-based rituals are often blended with remnants of religious upbringing. For many, the internet is the first place they encounter language for their inner rupture. But it also accelerates disaffiliation, sometimes without offering tools for reconstruction.

To stop and summarize everything I’ve said so far, I’ll say this:

📑 Cultural epochs destabilize structures of meaning, which creates what we commonly refer to as widespread cultural “nihilism”, “existential dread”, and “meaning crisis”.

📑 Modernity dealt a deep blow to the credibility of religion, and postmodernity gave the masses the tools to deconstruct and dismantle religion for themselves.

📑 At the heart of our current metacrisis is a meaning crisis that has been generations in the making.

📑 The digital and social media age has platformed the exodus from religion, which has firmly established it as a central characteristic of our era.

📑 Metamodernity is a reconstructive framework but we are not far enough along in it to address the spread of nihilism, existential dread and the meaning crisis.

📑 A solution is to platform reconstruction more demonstratively.

This is the whole reason why I founded the Center for Non-Religious Spirituality in 2021, and train Non-Religious Spiritual Directors and Existential Health Practitioners.

Religious Deconstruction and Nihilism

Religious deconstruction and nihilism often collide in ways that are both disorienting and transformative. When someone dismantles a belief system that once provided meaning, morality, and identity, they may find themselves staring into the void where nothing feels true, real, or worthwhile.

For many people, religious frameworks often offer:

✔️ Built-in meaning: A cosmic story that explains your existence.

✔️ Moral certainty: Clear rules about right and wrong.

✔️ Identity and belonging: A sense of who you are and where you fit.

When these collapse—especially after trauma or leaving high-demand religion—the person may experience:

❌ Existential dread: “If none of this was true, what’s the point of anything?”

❌ Moral nihilism: “If God isn’t real, is anything real?”

❌ Epistemic collapse: “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Maybe nothing matters.”

This isn’t just intellectual—it’s visceral, often involving grief, confusion, and fear. This is the dark side of deconstruction. Many people who deconstruct without replacing old beliefs with new sources of meaning can struggle with isolation, depression and existential paralysis. Psychologists warn that nihilism can become a dead end if not metabolized into something life-affirming

Deconstruction and existential crisis often unfold as a tandem unraveling—where the collapse of inherited belief systems leads to a confrontation with the raw, unfiltered questions of existence. It’s not just losing faith; it’s losing the scaffolding that held your sense of self, purpose, and reality together.

There are several reasons why why deconstruction can trigger existential crisis:

➡️ Loss of Meaning

Religious or ideological systems often provide a cosmic narrative: why you exist, what matters, how to live. When those collapse, the person may feel cast adrift in a meaningless universe:

“If everything I believed was constructed… what’s left?”

➡️ Identity Disintegration

Many people build their identity around belief—roles like “believer,” “disciple,” “chosen.” Deconstruction can feel like ego death:

“Who am I without this story?”

➡️ Moral and Epistemic Collapse

When moral absolutes and truth claims dissolve, it can lead to:

• Moral nihilism: “Is anything truly right or wrong?”

• Epistemological nihilism: “Can I trust anything I know?”

This collapse can be terrifying, especially if the person was taught that meaning only exists within the religious framework.

➡️ Isolation and Grief

Leaving a belief system often means losing community, family, and belonging. The resulting loneliness can deepen the existential rupture.

What exactly is “nihilism”?

The term “nihilism” comes from the Latin nihil, meaning “nothing.” It gained traction in 19th-century Russia and Germany, especially through thinkers like Friedrich Nietzsche, who saw nihilism as a cultural crisis—the collapse of traditional values in the wake of secularization. I previously published an article about Friedrich Nietzsche and nihilism, particularly related to his “death of God” views.

Technically, nihilism is a philosophical stance that asserts life lacks inherent meaning, value, or truth. It’s not just pessimism, it’s a radical rejection of the frameworks we use to make sense of existence. A few core definitions of nihilism include:

➡️ Existential nihilism: Life has no intrinsic purpose or meaning. A few of the central characteristics of existential nihilism are:

• The universe is indifferent to human life.

• There are no cosmic purposes.

• Meaning is not given—it must be created.

Existential philosophers operate in this realm of nihilism. Albert Camus explored the tension between our craving for meaning and the silence of the universe—what Camus called the “absurd.” I wrote an extensive article on the philosophy of Camus. Jean-Paul Sartre argued that since life has no predefined essence, we are radically free—and responsible—for creating our own meaning. I discuss Sartre’s philosophy in this article.

➡️ Moral nihilism: There are no objective moral truths; ethics are human constructs. Moral nihilists argue:

• Moral values are human inventions, not universal truths.

• Statements like “murder is wrong” are either false or “not truth-apt”, which means it cannot be classified as true or false, because it doesn't express a proposition or fact.

• There are no objective moral obligations—only social conventions, emotional reactions, or power dynamics.

If you want to investigate this further, you could explore J.L. Mackie’s Error Theory.

➡️ Epistemological nihilism: Knowledge and truth are ultimately unknowable or meaningless. Unlike skepticism, which doubts what we know, epistemological nihilism denies that knowledge is a real or valid category at all. It suggests:

• “Knowing” is a myth—like unicorns or moral absolutes.

• Truth is either unknowable or meaningless.

• All attempts to define knowledge (e.g. justified true belief) fail because the concept itself is flawed.

Epistemological nihilism emerges as a result of:

• Failed definitions: For over 2,000 years, philosophers have tried to define knowledge. From Plato to Gettier, every model breaks down.

• Radical skepticism: If we can’t be sure of anything—especially in a postmodern or relativist frame—then maybe “knowing” is just a comforting illusion.

• Language critique: Some argue that “knowledge” is a linguistic construct, not a metaphysical reality. It’s a tool we use, not a truth we possess.

A cursory summation of the idea of nihilism, such as the one above, can seem rather bleak. Right?

⚡No purpose or meaning to life to inspire our existence.

⚡No universal moral truths to guide our actions in the world.

⚡No objective knowledge to base our lives upon.

Doesn’t exactly provide that spark in your step for daily living!

We are Existential Beings

Nihilism wouldn’t be a thing if it weren’t that we are existential beings. It’s important to realize at the outset that our species has an existential orientation.

What separates Homo sapiens from all other living things is our existential impulse. It’s my contention that this meaning-seeking instinct governs virtually everything we do, whether consciously or unconsciously. Our existential impulse is what gave birth to “God”.

In a previous series of articles on the evolution of religion, I discuss how our species operated with this impulse to bolster a psychological immune system necessary to cope and survive the volatility of the lived human experience.

A few examples of the existential impulse is our capacity for experiencing (as well as and our need and desire for):

• a felt sense of value, meaning and significance to our existence (“I matter”)

• a trustworthy and coherent narrative and blueprint for understanding and living life (“this makes sense”)

• longing for perpetual becoming, extending outward upon an infinite field of possibilities and potentialities

• participation in a reality or story that transcends our individual self (“it’s bigger than me”)

• experiences of joy, love, beauty, purpose, and profundity at our point of contact with the world (“life is good”)

• resiliency with life’s vulnerabilities, uncertainties, complexities, ambiguities and difficulties (“we can do hard things”)

• an internalized solidarity and symbiotic relatedness with all living things (“we’re all in this together”)

Not all living things share this existential impulse. My dog doesn’t fret over his life’s meaning, and the trees in our front yard are not experiencing a lack of joy and love. There’s a reason why human beings created the idea of “God” and not dogs and trees. It’s of no use to them and it’s everything to us. Religious imagination, and the systems and structures that propagate it, fashioned “God” to be the master-signifier that could satisfy our existential impulse.

An interesting question one could ask is:

Were we created by God with an existential impulse or did we create God out of our existential impulse?

That God is a product of our existential impulse is evidenced by the fact that God conspicuously resembles the human being, albeit a supreme edition. The anthropomorphic nature of God found in religion is a bit suspicious. Had dogs or trees acquired the existential impulse, God may have had four legs or a trunk with branches. Over time, our human conception of God has evolved alongside our growing knowledge of the universe and the nature of reality. Modern science and quantum physics made short-order of the theistic God, in favor of the pantheist and panentheist iterations.

It’s very difficult for modern science and religion to stay in their respective lanes because too often they are positing a similar explanation for the nature of reality, but building it upon different assumptions and using a discrete language to portray it. People have tried to synthesize religion and science, such as Baruch Spinoza (who I discuss here), only to draw the ire of both.

Any human conception of God is determined and limited by the machinations and structures of the mind, and the need to satisfy our existential impulse. I am always surprised by those who challenge this assertion. All theology is subjective and projective.

For example, religious people tend to begin with the a priori assumption that we have a “soul”. Some views suggest the soul and mind are interconnected, while others propose they are separate entities, with varying degrees of interaction. Of course one could just as easily claim that the soul is also a creation of the existential impulse, namely the need to fashion a transcendent and eternal component of the human person that makes perfect peace and harmony available now and the promise of immortality for later.

Upon further examination, the entire question about the existence of God seems a bit absurd. “God” is a word we chose to identify the ultimate referent or existential master-signifier. The fact that the word “God” exists is not evidence that it directly corresponds to an objective reality in the universe. The term “God” depends upon countless other words for definition and description, all of which are part of a linguistic system we created and has no stable or absolute underpinning. We can thank Jacques Derrida for helping us face these facts, which I explicate in this article.

An attempt to prove the “existence of God” is a house of cards. It’s not my intent for that statement to be an assertion that something we would call “God” does not exist. My point is that trying to substantiate this claim outside of faith is not possible. For even the very words we use to discuss it are not grounded in a permanent foundation. One could ask if there is a God that exists independently of our mind, human language and our existential impulse. It’s a question with no definitive answer.

As previously mentioned, Friedrich Nietzsche, through a character in his writing, announced “God is dead”, which I discuss in the article, The Perfect Murder. Nietzsche’s point was that the theory of Darwinian evolution no longer necessitated the belief in “God” to explain the origins of life or the existence of the universe. What Nietzsche didn’t quite understand (at first) is that people believe in “God” because of the existential impulse, and theorizing the universe based on said-God was simply the window dressing. Science’s understanding of the universe doesn’t comfort the existential impulse, which is why the next move often involves wrapping a more scientific framework around “God” to keep God going.

Another question that could be asked is:

Can a meaningful spirituality adequately address the human existential impulse, with or without “God”?

A person’s way of experiencing or cultivating spirituality may involve religion and belief in God or not. The term “non-religious spirituality” has its problems, but I use it to refer to engaging with one’s existential impulse, free from the mindsets, beliefs and structures of traditional religion. It’s not that I think all religion fails this impulse, even though much of my professional work involves counseling people who were deeply damaged by religion.

“Faith” is choosing to believe that the thing we created the word “God” to refer to, is something objectively real with or without the word. In addition to the assumption that the word “God” corresponds directly with an objective thing in the universe, there are other problems with the God dilemma:

• There’s no universally accepted understanding of what “God” is.

• ”God” may only exist as a symbol or master signifier, corresponding to our existential impulse.

• The concept of God and beliefs about God often create division, polarization and a divisive tribal mentality.

• There is often a significant downside to belief-systems associated with “God” (toxic and high-control religion, religious pathology, religious trauma, etc.)

The existential impulse is intrinsic to our species, but we at times create remedies that do more harm than good. Religion can be meaningful, but it can also be toxic. We must be responsible with how we manage our existential impulse, and mindful of its impact on individual, collective, societal and planetary well-being.

What is an Existential Crisis?

As existential beings, the possibility of existential anxiety (or existential dread) and existential crisis are inevitable. No tree, rock or cat experiences this.

An existential crisis is a profound psychological and philosophical reckoning when a person confronts the unsettling realization that their life may lack inherent meaning, purpose, or coherence. It’s not just a moment of doubt; it’s a rupture in the foundations of identity, belief, and belonging.

Some of the core characteristics of an existential crisis includes:

◼️Loss of meaning: You begin to question the value of your goals, relationships, or existence itself.

◼️Identity confusion: Roles, beliefs, and self-concepts feel hollow or unstable.

◼️Emotional overwhelm: Anxiety, despair, guilt, or loneliness often surface.

◼️Disruption of functioning: It can affect relationships, work, and mental health—sometimes leading to depression or withdrawal.

There are scenarios where existential crisis tends to arise, including:

• After religious deconstruction or loss of faith

• During major life transitions (e.g. divorce, aging, career collapse)

• Following trauma, grief, or near-death experiences

• In moments of radical freedom—when old structures fall away and you must choose your own path

Closely related to “existential crisis” is “existential anxiety”.

Existential anxiety is a deep, often disorienting form of anxiety that arises when we confront the fundamental questions of existence such as Why am I here?, What is the meaning of life?, or What happens when I die?. It’s not just worry—it’s a visceral unease about the nature of being itself.

The way existential anxiety can feel includes:

⚡Dread, panic, or emotional numbness

⚡Difficulty making decisions or finding motivation

⚡Obsessive questioning of beliefs, values, or purpose

⚡Withdrawal, loneliness, or existential depression

⚡Physical symptoms like insomnia, fatigue, or racing heart

While existential anxiety is a normal part of human reflection, existential crisis is a threshold moment. The differences between the two can be broken down as follows:

How Religion Sets People Up For Nihilism

For most people, the religious environment was a one-stop-shop for meeting all their major needs – social support, a coherent worldview, meaning and direction in life, structured activities, and emotional and spiritual satisfaction. The “newly single” religion-leaver often experiences a spectrum of volatile emotions including grief, doubts, confusion, anger, sadness, fear and denial. In many cases, one’s core beliefs and assumptions are shattered.

Religion can set people up for an existential crisis when the frameworks it provides—meaning, morality, identity, and purpose—begin to collapse or feel insufficient. This isn’t a failure of religion per se, but a reflection of how deeply it’s woven into the psyche. When those threads unravel, the person may feel like they’re losing the ground beneath their feet.

Religion sets people up for post-religion nihilism in several ways, including:

🔲 Rigid Truth Claims

Many religions assert exclusive access to truth. When someone begins to question these claims—especially in pluralistic or postmodern contexts—they may spiral into doubt:

“If my religion isn’t true, what is?”
“If others believe differently, are they damned—or am I?”

This can lead to paranoia, fear, and identity fragmentation.

🔲 Moral Absolutism

Religious systems often provide strict moral codes. When those codes no longer resonate—or are revealed as harmful—the person may feel morally adrift:

“If I don’t believe in divine punishment, what keeps me ethical?”

This collapse can trigger moral nihilism, especially if the person was taught that morality only exists within the religious framework.

🔲 Loss of Community and Belonging

Religion often provides a tight-knit social fabric. Leaving it can mean losing family, friends, and cultural identity. The resulting isolation can deepen existential dread:

“Who am I without my tribe?”

🔲 Unanswered Suffering

When religious explanations for suffering (e.g. divine plan, karma, original sin) stop making sense, people may feel betrayed or abandoned:

“Why did God let this happen?”
“Is suffering just random?”

This is one of the most common triggers for a crisis of faith.

🔲 Identity Collapse

Religion often shapes identity from childhood. When someone begins to deconstruct their beliefs, they may feel like they’re mourning a former self:

“I don’t know who I am anymore.”

This grief is not just spiritual—it’s existential.

How Religion Harms People

There are common characteristics associated with almost all religion that can have a significant downside. They include:

1. Separation from God
   
   The basic notion is that the source of what we most deeply or ultimately want and need as human beings is outside ourselves. In other words, the love, peace, power, wisdom, insight, courage, belonging, worth, significance, and meaning we desire is not something we can generate or find naturally within or through ourselves, but is given by a separate sky-God, and contingent upon a proper relationship with this God.

2. Externalization of authority to revelatory knowledge
   
   From what source are we to determine the answers to the ultimate questions of life? These are questions about our fundamental identity, life’s meaning and purpose, our place in the universe, how we are to live, the existence of God, and what happens when you die. Religion claims that the correct answers to these questions are imparted through revelatory knowledge such as the teachings of a special messenger of God or a sacred text. The further stipulation is that authority is given to a select few to properly interpret these teachings and texts.

3. Deference to the not yet
   
   I have found in most religions that special attention is given to the not yet. What I mean by the “not yet” is the eschatological fulfillment of prophecy or the idea of the afterlife. The prevailing religious narrative seems to be that our current reality and order is messed up, lacking and hopeless, and something better is coming in the future as a direct result of divine intervention or some grand eschatological ending.

4. Divine intervention
   
   It is a common characteristic of religion to appeal to God in moments of great need or crisis. The notion is that there are some personal and societal circumstances that are beyond human capacity to resolve and require supernatural intervention. This is the logic behind intercessory prayer - requesting God’s direct action in a personal matter or world affairs.

5. Innate badness
   
   The idea that human beings are fundamentally flawed is a common characteristic of religious thinking. The Christian religion teaches that people are born into this world as “sinners” in need of forgiveness and salvation. Guilt is, “I did something bad”, shame is, “I am bad.” What typically follows from the “I am bad” belief is a mistrust of oneself and one’s ability to direct and govern their own lives.

6. Personification of evil
   
   The religious narrative of good versus evil teaches that just as there is a supernatural reality of goodness at work in the world (“God”), there is also an opposing supernatural force of evil (“Satan”). We laugh at the phrase “the devil made me do it,” but most religious traditions externalize the fundamental source of evil and foul play in the world to “spiritual warfare,” which is belief in evil spirits which are able to intervene in human affairs.

In my experience, these characteristics tend to influence people in what I believe to be the following harmful ways:

⚡ The inability to generate meaning and cultivate wholeness and well-being naturally in and through oneself.

⚡ Failure to nurture a holistic and comprehensive view of self, life and the world through the convergence of evidence and knowledge from all fields of study and inquiry.

⚡ Failure to fully embrace, honor, protect and invest oneself in the present gift of life.

⚡Abdicating human responsibility for the condition of the world and avoidance of direct action to bring change.

⚡ Ineptness for self-governance, free-thinking, self-confidence and psychological well-being.

⚡ Failure to acknowledge ourselves as the cause and failing to take responsibility for the breakdown of society and our human and planetary ills and maladies.

A non-religious mindset to replace these religious shortcomings could be:

✔️ a higher view of humanity as a source for generating meaning, wholeness, ethics and harmony

✔️ an interdisciplinary approach for understanding and unraveling the mysteries and marvels of life and the universe

✔️ inspired, mindful and passionate living based on the notion that life is a wonderful gift and won't last forever

✔️ taking ownership and responsibility for the task of building a world that works for everyone

✔️encouraging and promoting self-actualization or the fulfillment of one's individual human potential

✔️ acknowledging that the only ugliness in the world is what we as humankind do to ourselves and other living things

But wait… Can Nihilism Be Good?

Nihilism can be positive when it’s metabolized into something liberating rather than paralyzing. This reframing is often called “positive nihilism” or “optimistic nihilism”, and it’s gaining traction as a way to live meaningfully after the collapse of inherited meaning systems.

Existentialists like Kierkegaard, Camus, and Irvin Yalom saw crisis not as pathology, but as invitation:

🌿 To live authentically

🌿 To create meaning rather than inherit it

🌿 To embrace freedom and responsibility

Positive nihilism is the philosophical stance that embraces the idea that life has no inherent meaning—and sees that as a liberating truth rather than a despairing one. It’s a shift from existential collapse to creative agency. If the universe offers no prewritten script, then we get to write our own.

Key features of positive nihilism include:

🌱 Freedom from imposed meaning: No gods, no cosmic scorecards, no inherited moral molds.

🌱 Empowerment through self-authorship: You create your own values, rituals, and purpose.

🌱 Resilience in the face of absurdity: Life’s randomness becomes a canvas, not a curse.

🌱 Authenticity over obligation: You live by what feels true—not what you’re told “should” be true.

Positive nihilism offers liberation through the void. But here’s the twist: if nothing ultimately matters, then we are radically free to create meaning. It’s the freedom to live by values we choose, not ones imposed by dogma or fear.

Positive nihilism offers freedom from obligation: You’re no longer bound by inherited moral molds. It asserts creative agency: You can build meaning from scratch—through art, relationships, ritual, or service. It also offers resilient joy. You can affirm life because it’s absurd, not in spite of it.

The first time I realized that “nihilism” might not be a “bad” thing was studying existential philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre. Sartre wrote:

“Life has no meaning a priori. It is up to you to give it a meaning, and value is nothing but the meaning that you choose.”

Consider that the problem is not that life has no meaning; it’s the notion that the meaning of life is something you “find.” “Finding meaning” is an empty proposition. Sartre’s point is that we are not here to find meaning, we are here to live meaningfully. The meaningless of life is not a curse but an invitation. It's not a matter of searching for meaning, but creating it. Human beings are not born into a world of inherent meaning, we are born into the world as meaning makers.

If you are an artist, a blank or empty canvas is an invitation and opportunity to create. Similarly, the blank or empty canvas of nihilism is bid to take responsibility and accountability for creating your life.

I’m not saying that the realties of a collapsed belief system is a picnic. Feelings of loss, grief, uncertainty, fear, fragility and existential angst are typically part of it. Neither am I saying that the empty canvas is sunshine and rainbows. Faith transitions and belief-system deconstruction is typically a volatile process.

Jean-Paul Sartre also wrote:

“Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. It is up to you to give life a meaning.”

One reason why religion is so popular among the masses is because we like to derive our sense of meaning and direction in life through some external source, which we imbue with truth and authority. Taking on this responsibility ourselves can be frightening.

But should one call all of this “bad”? Perhaps it’s simply a part of the reality of being human and each of our individuation process - not to be avoided but embraced; not to be resisted but accepted'; not to be cured but integrated; not something to run away from, but something to move through.

In my philosophy series, I wrote an article covering the work of existential philosopher, Albert Camus. Camus controversially wrote:

“There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.”

Camus’ mention of suicide is often misunderstood, which I discuss at length in the article. He was not a proponent of suicide, but raised the question as a matter of sharply addressing whether life was worth living. Camus wanted people to face squarely the givens of human existence and find their reason for living life fully. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, “No one can construct for you the bridge upon which precisely you must cross the stream of life, no one but you yourself alone.”

Human beings have tended to feel that the universe and human existence must have some sort of central or organizing meaning and purpose, and that life would hardly be worth living in the absence of it. Existential philosophers such as Sartre and Camus held that existence is an open field of possibilities and that we have the freedom and accountability to determine life’s meaning and purpose.

Years later I noticed that more people were writing about nihilism in more constructive ways. I read the book by Wendy Syfret, The Sunny Nihilist: A Declaration of the Pleasure of Pointlessness. In the book, Wendy writes:

“Over time, innocuous concepts like meaning and purpose turn corrosive as all the obsessive thought, fixation and study of our own minds and lives fails to return any sense of relief or clarity. In fact, it starts making a lot of us feel worse.”

Another book on the subject is: The Art of Living a Meaningless Existence by Robert Pantano. Sometimes I feel like we overthink life’s existential questions, which is why I published this article, One-Sentence Answers to Life's Greatest 11 Questions: Is Overthinking Existence our Biggest Problem?

Rewilding Nihilism is Post-Religion Reconstruction

The journey through nihilism in religious deconstruction could be diagramed as follows:

⛪ Faith ➡️🔥 Collapse ➡️ 🌫️ Void ➡️ 🌿Rewilding ➡️ 🛠️ Reconstruction

With this in mind, one could develop positive nihilistic concepts and language such as:

❤️‍🔥 Collapse and Void as sacred rupture—where inherited meaning dissolves

❤️‍🔥 Rewilding as embodied regeneration—rooted in nature, interoception, and plural myth

❤️‍🔥 Reconstruction as a creative act—not returning to dogma, but forging new symbolic frameworks

A few specific steps could include:

💦 Returning to nature as a sacred source of meaning after religious or existential rupture

💦 Honoring collapse as initiation—where grief, disorientation, and loss become fertile ground

💦 Rewilding the soul through elemental rituals, somatic practices, and multispecies kinship

💦 Spiral motifs and wild landscapes that mirror the journey from fragmentation to integration

💦 Choose values you can live into, and anchor meaning in action such as care, creativity, kinship, justice.

💦 Love the questions, and let mystery be a companion, not a threat.

As mentioned earlier, I have published several articles lately related to religious deconstruction, which touch on the above themes that you might find useful:
✔️ Love Letters to the Recently Departed: An Ode to Those Done with Religion (Discusses the six places people often find themselves after leaving religion)

✔️ Going Through the Big 'D' and Don't Mean... A Subversive Guide on How to Deconstruct Everything (Covers five mindsets to guide your belief-system deconstruction and reconstruction)

✔️ More-Than-Human Deconstruction: Exploring Nature's Way of Rewilding Spirituality (Examines nature’s way of religious deconstruction and spiritual reconstruction)

✔️ Breaking Bad (Binaries): When Walter White is Your Deconstruction Counselor (Discusses how to apply spectrum thinking to your religious deconstruction process)

✔️ Rewilding A Mary-Less Christianity: Confronting Toxic Religious Patriarchy (Exposes toxic religious patriarchy and how it wounds and victimizes women and men, and how to recover.)

✔️ An Atheist Guide to Spirituality: Rewilding Unbelief as a Post-Religion Pathway (Explores the world of atheist spirituality and what it offers in religious deconstruction and spiritual reconstruction.)

✔️ In(tero)ception: What if you are living in a dream someone else created? (Introduces interoception as a significant deconstruction tool that involves understanding the human body as a critical pathway of knowledge.)

✔️ Exiled: Surviving a Leaving-Religion Relational Rupture (Addresses the relational fallout that typically occurs in a person’s leaving religion journey.)

✔️ The (🚫"Strong-Willed") Post-Religion Child: A Non-Religious Guide to Post-Religion Parenting (Discusses the multitude of issues related to parenting through the religious deconstruction process.)

Promoting Existential Health

For many years I have been promoting what I call “existential health”, which in my view is the long-term solution to the meaning crisis. I outline the framework of existential health in this article, Jim and the Simple, Compossible, No Nonsense, Very Subversive Idea: What's off at the center of everything?

I also address the matter of existential health more extensively in my series of articles, The Great Reconstruction. The series is intended to reflect upon the role of religion in the metamodern age, and what it means to look at “reconstruction” as a societal endeavor.

• Part One: Everything is not okay... but life is the greatest good

• Part Two: What if the meaning of life is... life?

• Part Three: Is the world worth saving?

• Part Four: In Search of Existential Health in a Defective World

• Part Five: Put Down Your Holy Grail and ToE and Grab a Shovel

• Part Six: Is the metasolution for the metacrisis... inner anarchy?

• Part Seven: Converting candidates for the hereafter into students of the world

In Summary

• The mass migration out of religion in recent years has a dark side.

• There are larger societal dynamics that spark widespread cultural skepticism and disfavor of religion, resulting in existential ruptures.

• Religion can set people up for an existential crisis when the frameworks it provides—meaning, morality, identity, and purpose—begin to collapse or feel insufficient; this isn’t a failure of religion per se, but a reflection of how deeply it’s woven into the psyche.

• The digital and social media age has platformed the exodus from religion, which has firmly established it as a central characteristic of our era.

• Nihilism doesn’t have to be curse, it can be an invitation.

• Existential health is the long term solution to the meaning crisis.

• As a token of my appreciation for paid subscribers ($5 monthly or $50 annually), you receive a free full membership (and complimentary copies of two of my books) to the Center for Non-Religious Spirituality, which is a community and network of resources to support your religious deconstruction process and the cultivation of a meaningful and liberating non-religious spirituality.

“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche