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We live according to our beliefs. Some beliefs we know well. A Christian knows they believe in God. An ethical vegetarian knows they believe eating animals is wrong. But other beliefs swish around in the rock pools of our unconscious. They are tacit assumptions that motivate our actions but never appear on an employment contract or in a legal document. And even though we rarely pause to examine them, these beliefs or narratives will steer our lives. They are why we get out of bed, think the way we do, and chase the dreams we have.
Philosophy has long been concerned about these narratives. It’s in ancient Greece, in the Bhagavad Gita , and it’s here in this Mini Philosophy article. Philosophers want to pull up our assumptions, rip them apart, and evaluate them. Then, we keep what’s good or useful, and throw everything else into the stinking cesspit of bankrupt ideas.
So, here are five ideas to start throwing in.
“I need to control everything.”
Unless I’ve gone wrong in my theology, you are not a god. You probably don’t even have any superpowers. And so, there will always be things beyond your control. You can’t breathe underwater, turn invisible, or transfigure into an eavesdropping fly on the wall. But you also can’t change your past, the inevitability of aging, or what other people think of you. It’s as silly to try and control everything as it is to push back the tide with a bristleless broom.
These days, the “dichotomy of control” is credited to the Stoics. Epictetus advises us to devote all our efforts and attention to what we can change while accepting all the many things we can’t. We can waste so much time and thought obsessing over what is unfixable, and we can spend both of them much better.
But of course, many other schools argue the same thing. It’s in Buddhism’s two-arrows doctrine and Daoism’s wu wei. It’s in all the major monotheistic religions. For example, Muslims will often say, “ Inshallah ,” or God willing. It’s all in God’s hands.
“When I find my true love, I’ll be happy.”
One of the most persistent narratives of our time — one sponsored by Disney and Hallmark — is the idea of a soulmate. I suspect most intelligent people accept that there is not one person destined to be our partner. Otherwise, in a world of eight billion people, love would be statistically impossible. And yet, many people still internalize the belief that they are one half in need of another — a jigsaw piece waiting to be completed.
In her various works, Simone de Beauvoir argues that this idea is dangerous. Because when we view ourselves as inadequate or insufficient in this way, we develop an unhealthy dependency on others for our own happiness. This kind of “you complete me” love turns toxic quickly when an independent, authentic human being finds themselves trapped or unable to choose on their own. It’s part of a wider pattern de Beauvoir calls “inauthentic existence” — where we collapse our freedom into one fixed thing, whether that’s a lover, a cause, or an obsession.
Of course, love is about compromise, companionship, and compassion. But it’s not about throwing yourself into a great romantic ocean, never to be seen again.
“I am who I am forever and unchanging.”
The idea that our identity has a permanent core is there in religious notions of a soul or spirit, but it was given philosophical pedigree when René Descartes started writing. The “Cartesian ego” is an immutable filament of our being. It interacts with the world in some mysterious way, but it’s largely just who we are. Forever. And today, so many people still carry this notion that we are who we are across all time.
The Vedic philosophies have always offered a different position on this. In Hindu philosophy, for example, Atman is considered a universal, pure consciousness, but our individual egos or ahamkara are flickering, false impressions of constancy. The self is an illusion.
In the Western tradition, a century or so after Descartes, David Hume made it his mission to pop the Cartesian balloon. He effectively said, “Well, René, where exactly is this ‘ego’? Because for the life of me I can’t find it. I only find thoughts, sensations, memories, and so on. It’s all a flux. It’s a jumbly mess. At best, it’s a bundle of lots of things.”
Today, the philosophy of episodism takes this idea and turns it into a practical, workable philosophy. Nothing stays the same. We grow, change, and, of course, die.
“The universe owes me X / I am entitled to Y”
The world doesn’t owe us a thing. We’re born, naked and crying, with nothing at all. Everything and anything that happens to us, and all of the things we own or love, no matter how little or large, are the chance scatterings of a universe that marches to its own drum. The world and its laws are under no obligation whatsoever to give us what we want. We might feel entitled to this or that, but this is arrogance and vanity that the universe just doesn’t even consider.
Albert Camus’ absurdism centers on our desire to create meaning. We want a cosmic metanarrative to explain everything that’s going on: There must be a higher purpose or a greater good to all of this. Why else must I struggle through this pain or drudge my way through all the tedium? For Camus, this is it. This is the life we have, and if there is any cosmic purpose, it’s far too remote and incomprehensible to our temporal, primate minds.
We just have what we have and must make the most of it. Push the boulder, sweat it out, and try to have a laugh or two along the way.
“When I get more money, a better job, and a bigger house, I’ll be happy.”
We’ve all watched Fight Club . We’ve all heard the anti-materialist clichés that saturate social media. We nod along while also wondering why all these “you don’t need money” people almost always seem to have a lot of money.
But it has not always been so. Whether it be monks committed to a vow of poverty, Roman slaves who became famous philosophers, or Indian outcast laborers, almost all philosophers have agreed on one thing: After a certain point, more things will not make you happy. In ancient Greece, the Epicureans argued that we will only ever find peace by learning to live with who we are now and with what we have around us. As Epicurus put it, if you aren’t satisfied with a little, you won’t be satisfied with anything. Siddhartha Gautama created an entire religion built on the idea that craving things always leads to more suffering in the end.
In fact, this last dangerous belief is why philosophy is just so important. Because philosophy is what goes inward. It seeks to clarify our thoughts and understand our motivations. When the world tells us that happiness and fulfilment lie in the many fruits of winning this season’s rat race, philosophy says no. Happiness is and has always been in our heads. So, let’s hop inside, look about, and make sure everything is in order.
This article 5 dangerous lies we tell ourselves, according to philosophy is featured on Big Think .
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