I once lived a life of comfortable illusions. One by one, my romantic ideals fell. First, the ego-boost of fraternal bonds gave way, then the idealization of collective revolt. The salvation of romantic love was disposed of next, and last, the permanence of friendship was overwhelmed by circumstance. Material consumption only provided a circular distraction, and the visceral escape of addiction accentuated the emptiness I ran from.

In the absence of the romantic, I needed another belief system. I was disillusioned, but I was not ready to concede to bitterness or to give into a nihilistic search for pleasure for its own sake. And no way would I surrender to the corporate turnstyle, giving anyone who ever put their foot on my neck that kind of satisfaction. I needed a different framework. I needed a way to not only face the day, but claim it.

For the longest time, I struggled to live a life that was anywhere near as bold as I thought it could be. I searched for resolution from those who came before me. I was exposed to Nietzsche in college, but only in passing. He was reserved for ridicule due to his cranky misogyny. Sometimes he was demonized for his links to Nazism.

Later, I threw out the lazy assumptions of college as it dawned on me that my education, despite its self-satisfied arrogance, had not prepared me adequately for the professional world. Nor did school equip me for the existential trials I would face. That I was not alone in this predicament provided little consolation.

As the adversity in my life increased, the people in my life disappointed me, sometimes at the expense of promises made. Was I the same way? My disillusionment led me to re-evaluate ideas I had previously kept at arm’s length. That’s when I discovered the power of Nietzsche. I soon realized that many of the thinkers who had inspired me the most, including Albert Camus, owed a huge philosophical debt to Nietzsche.

As I write this essay today, I have conned myself into believing that I now have a better understanding of what I need to know about human nature (and myself) to be a person of conviction. My own life is definitely a work in progress, but the philosophical foundation seems solid, and much of that I credit to Nietzsche. Because Nietzsche is so misunderstood, I thought it was important to write this essay and make a few of his electrifying ideas more accessible.

Of course, any thinker with powerful theories will generate heat. Tragically, the appropriation of Nietzsche’s ideas by the Nazi regime is a matter of record. What is open to debate is the degree to which Nietzsche approved of this appropriation and/or set himself up for it through his own hyperbole. However, that is not the focus of this essay.

A better approach is to agree that all art can be misused. I’ve never gotten over how John Lennon’s killer, Mark David Chapman, idolized The Catcher in the Rye, a cornerstone of my own adolescence. There are countless other examples. So we’ll proceed by agreeing that we can use a thinker’s ideas without buying into questionable interpretations. We will also state emphatically that we are opposed to such warped viewpoints.

And what of women? Nietzsche’s so-called contempt for women is, in my view, overstated. True, Nietzsche is not someone female readers should turn to for advice on a problem pregnancy. To me, the implications for women reading Nietzsche lead to one conclusion: that they should quit placating and accommodating and start taking up more space, asserting their own fierce positions in the world. If that idea is not compatible with feminism, then I don’t know what is. Nietzsche’s take on women might have been problematic, but none of his best ideas are gender-specific. We can take the compelling ones and discard the rest.

Everyone makes sense of their lives differently, so who is Nietzsche’s thinking most relevant to? Nietzsche is most useful to those who are driven away from the pack to realize their life’s ambitions. Those who are more attached to communal thinking will be put off by Nietzsche.

There are those who believe we should serve the world by selflessly helping others rather than cultivating our own rebel uniqueness. New Age “Communalists” (a.k.a. hippies) often have this view, and many flavors of communism and socialism do also. Nietzsche has little to offer this type of mindset, indeed, he has contempt for it. But if you believe that the best way you can possibly serve this world is by finding the courage to manifest your own uniqueness, than Nietzsche has more to offer you than any other thinker.

I still have some appreciation for “we are all connected” tribalism. I’m most impressed by American Indian traditions that balance the collective needs of the tribe with respect for the sacredness of the individual vision. But others believe that individual expression is a severe threat to tribal (or national) identity. These folks would find Nietzsche’s theories deeply threatening. Needless to say, many of these types enjoy high positions in governments across the world, including our own.

The notion that American society fosters and respects individuality is an urban legend. Anyone who has taken unpopular stands only to be reviled by their community or the media knows what I’m talking about. In fairness, cultures across history have struggled with the role of free thinkers. Even the most progressive societies have a tendency to squelch dissent in the supposed interest of the whole.

What we can say with certainty is that a life of individual expression has never been easy. Those who have developed such a stance without facing severe repression can be glad for the opportunity, but we are fools if we don’t recognize that living boldly comes at a cost. If it didn’t, more people would live that way.

Life according to Nietzsche is about accepting that in the passionate pursuit of your excellence, you may find yourself alone. But if that’s the price of freedom, you will gladly pay it. Nietzsche is about being thoroughly committed to your own magnificent adventure. Fellow travelers are welcome, but the lonelier road may need to be taken. In solitary times, there is still the internal glory of a life well-lived, the assurance that comes from knowing we don’t need anyone else’s approval to chart the right course.

On those darker days, when friends are harder to come by, we can find solace in those who have gone before us. And Nietzsche is someone that those on the edge of the cliff can turn to.

Of course, it’s not all grim determination. Indeed, Nietzsche would be disappointed if that is all we took from his philosophy. Nietzsche believed that we should be invested in the “gay science,” that joyful, mad search for truth that may cost us false friends but will gain us true companions. In our quest, the truth is its own reward, but the company of kindred spirits will give strength for what lies ahead. We will forge our destinies in that fire, and if the conventional trappings so many have confused with happiness must be conceded in order to sculpt that fate, then so be it.

What follows is not a definitive take on Nietzsche, but rather, my own take on his philosophy and how it can be appropriated to inject some soul into the preoccupations of modern living. How I interpret and apply these ideas may not be true to Nietzsche scholarship, so enjoy this piece for what it is, but if you want a definitive record, refer to the original texts.

I. There are better things to aspire to besides being “nice.”

It may seem odd to cast stones at civility in a world where social interactions are plagued by rudeness. By most accounts I know of, Nietzsche was considered a gracious person on an interpersonal level. But in his writing, Nietzsche had a few issues with “niceness” that should be considered.

Nietzsche’s first objection to “niceness” was on the moral level. Nietzsche pointed out that many people who pass themselves off as “nice” are the ones who are puttering along with the status quo. If the culture you are living in is flawed, implied Nietzsche, by simply smiling and pretending as if nothing is wrong, you are hardly justifying your moral credentials - no, you are participating in corruption without objection.

Too often, “nice” means passive acceptance of the state of the world. Juxtapose “niceness” with a scorned emotion like anger. Anger is not always a productive emotion, that’s for sure, but angry (not-so-nice) people tend to be skeptical people, and in most modern societies, a bit of Nietzsche-style skepticism is often warranted for the pablum that is being offered up, for example, the idea that being able to choose a personalized logo on your credit card is the equivalent of real freedom.

Another fascinating aspect of niceness comes into play when we take a look at how niceness impacts friendships. It goes without saying that there are many sharks out there who make victims out of “nice people.” Often, though not always, “nice” means a propensity to trust easily. Most of the human doormats I have met in my life were people who were nice to a fault. They were so accommodating that they forgot to protect themselves. Until you are willing to be perceived as a so-called “bitch” or “asshole,” the chances are good that someone is going to take advantage of all that smiling niceness.

Reading this first section of my essay, you probably grasp how Nietzsche gets himself into trouble. For example, it may seem that I am advocating meanness and downplaying compassion. That is not my intent. There’s nothing wrong with nice, but there’s plenty wrong with letting people walk on you. Niceness can be oppressive when it takes away from our ability to be ourselves without apology.

Another time when niceness fails us is in situations where there’s no way to be nice. Nietzsche would say that effective living involves a bit of cruelty. That may be a hard sentence to swallow, but there are situations in life when you know you are going to have to hurt someone’s feelings no matter which choice you make. I find that too often, “nice” people are the ones who avoid such conflicts. But some reckonings can’t be avoided; they can only be postponed. By selfishly waiting to disclose the truth out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings, more hurt is caused. In that sense, niceness can be both self-serving and self-defeating.

One obvious example would be cheating on someone you love and then continuing with the deception because you know that the truth is going to sting and perhaps cost you personally. Nietzsche would say that you have to be ruthless with the truth. Yes, such truths can be delivered with kindness, but they still have to be served up. When we get too wrapped up in being “nice,” we lose track of that. I hate to use an example as childhood-memory-inducing as “Old Yeller,” but sometimes you have to put the family pet down. How nice is that? That’s why I remain in awe of ruthless “Old Yeller” kindness but have very little time for “nice.”

I remember a time in my life when I was afraid to deliver hard truths to others. I would let the resentments build up. When they finally came out, it was ugly. I wanted to please people and didn’t want to hurt them. In college, I hurt a couple friends very badly because I didn’t have the guts to tell them it was time for me to move on. The pain I caused them will always haunt me a little bit. Putting off what needed to be said made things so much worse. I swore I would never hurt someone again due to lack of disclosure. I haven’t always lived up to that vow, but Nietzsche helped to firm my resolve on and give me something to strive for. Once I discarded niceness and idealized ruthless kindness instead, I was able to be clear with people instead of stringing them along for my own cowardly, conflict-avoiding reasons.

If Nietzsche were around today, I believe he would agree that there are way too many nice people in the world - if by “nice” we mean that type of bland “go along” acceptance that brings with it an implied indifference to the disturbing direction the world is taking around us as we smile at each other. On the other hand, if there are too many nice people in the world, there aren’t nearly enough aggressively nice people. By “aggressively nice,” I’m thinking of people who commit their lives in a fierce way to solving the problems we are confronted with. But being aggressive is contrary to the cult of niceness, so as soon as your cross that line, you’re less concerned with being nice and more concerned with, for lack of a nicer phrase, kicking some ass.

Nietzsche often gets hammered for idealizing historical figures like Napoleon who were not necessarily worthy of fawning admiration. It’s one thing to criticize niceness, it’s another thing to elevate military conquest. But consider the view of Walter Kaufmann, one of Nietzsche’s foremost biographers. Kauffman argues, and I agree, that one of the reasons Nietzsche heaped praise on complicated men is because he believed that while you might eventually arrive at greatness from a position of poorly exercised power, you could not forge greatness through the bland, unformed mush of niceness.

If forced to choose, Nietzshce would rather see someone who was willing to hurt a couple people until they figured out how to wield power properly, rather then elevate as “moral” the cowards who did not have the guts to draw the sword from the stone. Civility serves a purpose, but Nietzsche would urge us not to dim our fires for dinner parties.

II. There is a third way beyond victim and perpetrator.

Nietzsche had little patience for those who lurked in the cowardice of status quo passivity, but he also didn’t think much of those who sought positions of influence only to lord their superficial status over others. Nietzsche saved most of his admiration for those who had the courage to face themselves and draw art from that stare-down. He saw most conventional forms of power as a kind of copout from a necessary self-confrontation. Though Nietzsche didn’t use this phrase, it’s clear that he had contempt for what you might call a “false power,” a power that did not emanate from the self, but from an ordained position that the person in question might not be worthy of.

But the real breakthrough was Nietzsche’s conception of a third way, a true power, if you will, that could be described as the external manifestation of an internal reckoning that results in soulful achievements.

Now, it should be noted that the language I am using here is modern terminology that Nietzsche didn’t use. He didn’t really speak of “true power” per se, but I am confident that this interpretation is in line with how he conceived of the role of power and self-realization. The “will to power” was Nietzsche’s central philosophical conception, and while it might not have occurred to him how his conception of power resolved the victim/perpetrator dilemma, the implications are, to me anyway, life-changing.

I find that people who are sensitive to the suffering of others are often boxed in by their determination not to do harm. Many were themselves victims of discrimination or abuse. Experiencing life as a victim also means becoming intimate with the psychology of the perpetrator. In a disturbing way, the psychology of the victim and perpetrator are intimately linked, two sides of a disheartening coin. This is basic psychology for most, but just to spell it out, some have argued this is why our most violent criminals have a history of abuse - they learned the rage of the victim, and the mentality of the perpetrator, and ended up on the different side of the same pattern. On top of that, we frequently hear that cliché that “power corrupts,” implying that in order to remain a good person, you need to sit on the sidelines somewhere while those who don’t mind bending over in order to fuck somebody else later run the show.

Through the writings of Nietzsche and his conception of power as an expression of creative life force, I began to realize there was a form of “true power” beyond the limiting psychology of the victim/perpetrator. Prior to that realization, I tried to avoid wielding power, perhaps fearing I would slide into an abusive role. And there were times where I did find myself taking advantage of a fleeting and temporary sense of power in ways that made me ashamed in retrospect, such as when I made life miserable for my best friend’s little brother, who is now six foot five and would never put up with that crap from me anymore.

I realized after college that I craved leadership partially for the status it afforded me - it gave me a vacation from my problems I suppose. Later in life I recoiled from that, resolving that I only wanted to be powerful in ways that were logical expressions of my own uniqueness. The degree of difficulty of this kind of approach is higher, as you may find yourself turning down superficially attractive situations that leave people with their heads scratching (such as turning down a high paying job that just isn’t right). But there’s a certain peace of mind knowing you have a filter in place that allows you to go after (and hold out for) a life that is truly a reflection of who you are in the world, and to find a sense of power that emanates from that self-knowledge.

One thing I should note about false power, and this is strictly my own take and not that of Nietzsche’s: false power is not necessarily linked to a type of position, but whether that particular form of power suits the person who wears it. I would not want to be a general in the U.S. Army, but for some, that role would be a good match with their skills, ideals and temperament. Others would be utterly corrupted by such a position, and we’ve seen plenty of examples of that.

In the aftermath of World War II, Albert Camus issued a political spin on this same theme. He published a short, influential book called “Neither Victims Nor Executioners” which was a well-argued essay in favor of the power of non-violent resistance and the virtues of informed citizenship. Essentially, Camus made the same argument about victims and perpetrators as I just did, but on a political level. He was disturbed by the image of the everyman, peering out from behind curtains as those in the streets were rounded up. Camus’ argument is that there is no neutrality in such a world, that we must all choose a position, and even when we claim to choose a neutral position, we have made an equally fateful choice. By default, under the guide of “neutrality,” most of us are perpetrators. To move beyond that, argued Camus, we must choose a life of revolt, and by that, Camus did not necessarily mean “revolution” as much as he meant a commitment to being an informed and active citizen who speaks out with conviction.

A couple real-life scenarios that underscore these points: around the year 2000, I almost took a position in a venture-financed dotcom in New York City. The truth? I was a little dazzled by the possibility of being a stock option millionaire. The alternative? To build my own company from scratch, without financing or a hip Manhattan address, and keep the focus on my writing as much as possible. I don’t know if walking away from that career path saved my soul, but it certainly pushed me away from “false power” and back in search of the true.

I knew this would be a harder road, and jonreed.net has pretty much proved that out. I’ve had some great moments through this web site, but no surprises, it has not been a path to riches. But this rockier path feels truer to me. My company has had its ups and downs, that’s for sure, but the freedom to chart my own course, and, in particular, to have complete creative control over my work, while treating those who work for me as I see fit, without getting undermined by a boss or owner - that has been indispensable.

I always felt one day my writing would lead me to that true form of power I am talking about. I haven’t reached it yet, but the process of getting there has been one that feels, for lack of a better word, clean. This type of pursuit is a much more direct confrontation with my own ego, without the ability to hide behind the phoniness of power over others in a form I did not want but occasionally and shamefully did enjoy.

In such pursuits, there are sweet moments. I can think of a couple times where I felt a taste of that third way, that authentic form of power. One was at the Resumes from Hell book opening, when my co-author Rachel Meyers and I invited our friends to a personal reading of the book (and the story behind it) and a rare triumph ensued. Another time, my high school class gave me a standing ovation during a class reunion when I performed one of my spoken word pieces, reminding me that I can indeed affect people with my work if I have the guts to dig and the discipline to polish.

It’s not easy to find that authentic kind of power; it’s much more of an elaborate self-invention than a pre-established position you can apply for. But while it’s not easy to arrive at that destination, there is a certain giddiness to the journey itself, a liberating force that contaminates you when you realize there is nothing rude about ambition, as long as it is properly aligned with the values that drive you. Realizing you can succeed without stepping on others or living a lie is, to me anyway, an electrifying concept. With that shift, Nietzsche’s Will to Power altered the conception of power beyond a narrow view of victims and perpetrators. In the process, it became one of the most important philosophical ideas of all time.

III. Selfishness is a virtue.

Most societies extol the virtues of selflessness. In our culture, calling someone “selfish” is just about the most damning thing you can say about someone without swearing - this despite the fact that our entire economic structure is based on the pursuit of self-interest. Still, there’s a widespread perception that there is a conflict of interest between the interests of society as a whole and those who are ruthless about pursuing their own self-interest.

Nietzsche sees things a bit differently. He actually advocates selfishness, though his views about selfishness are not simplistic. He would have little respect for the petty self-preoccupations of Western modernity, obsessing over every pore on our bodies and every technical need of our home theaters. There is a kind of superficial self-indulgence Nietzsche surely would scorned. But the idea that the best way to serve humanity is to put other people’s interests ahead of our own is something Nietzsche would skewer.

In Nietzsche’s view, the way you serve society is by having a fierce commitment to pursuing your art. Now, those who are not artists might feel that this definition of service is narrow and leaves them out of the equation. But while Nietzsche spent a lot of time admiring those who cultivated their art, he also viewed the self-becoming of the individual as the ultimate work of art. To pursue a path of personal truth and to gain mastery over your impulses was, in Nietzsche’s view, one of the greatest acts of artistic accomplishment.

I look at selfishness this way: everyone should have something in their life they fight for that comes before anything else. It comes down to how you protect the time allocated for the pursuit of your excellence. It’s all too easy for the distractions of daily life to pull you away from that selfish focus. Of course, some people are rightfully selfish about raising their children or teaching their students. That kind of selfishness can also define you, and in a good way. I don’t know if Nietzsche would have classified those as creative acts, but I certainly would. When you elevate selfishness to a virtue to aspire to, you are much better at saying “No!” and not taking on too many projects and commitments, knowing that if you get spread too thin, you won’t be able to realize yourself and cultivate your power.

It’s great to come through for other people, but when we extol the virtues of selflessness, we provide a convenient rationalization for those who fall into the compulsive habit of giving for giving’s sake. It’s easy to revere those who give and give, but in an odd way nobody wants to talk about, there is a dependence in life between the giver and the taker, the user and the used. Those who are selfish in the sense of being totally committed, never apologizing for claiming the time to develop their best selves - these are the people who are less likely to be exploited

I learned the truth of these statements the hard way. When I was younger, I used to flail through life in a desperate search for connection. I would latch onto those “bird with broken wing” types I could supposedly heal emotionally. I rationalized this behavior in heroic terms, but I knew deep down that my own emotional hunger was driving me. My relentless search for connection was not selfless as I portrayed it, but self-serving. I wanted to view myself as generous and caring, and there was an element of that, but I was also indulging in the wrong kind of self-absorption, a needy kind of self-rationalization that Nietzsche would scorn. Nietzsche would say we have to face those needs head-on and confront our carnivorous tendencies. We should have the strength (and the selfishness) to pull away from those we are trying to save, and focus on saving ourselves first. We should be ruthless about creating silence and then pull art out of that abyss. No, acts of creation don’t necessarily solve our existential problems, but they represent a purer confrontation with our own demons. Nietzsche did this throughout his life, and the result of his selfishness was books that have endured beyond his lifetime. But he didn’t write just for immortality; he wrote in pursuit of his own greatness.

And no, we can’t find that greatness slumped in the hallways of endless parties, smoking on whatever substances are handed to us. Don’t get me wrong, I completely sympathize with the desire to numb out, party out and/or negate ourselves in various ways. I have done plenty of it myself. But I come back to the unpopular idea of redefining selfishness, hoping that if I say “no” enough times, I will create the space to say “yes” to something honest and lasting.

It’s not always easy to turn down party invitations and keep people at arm’s length. I probably do too much of that. But the end result is that instead of chasing people, which left me feeling empty and dependent, I now chase my creative work. The result? I finally got my first books done. Even better, the occasional moments of authentic expression I have generated during this period has attracted more compelling people into my life.

Admittedly, I now have less friends than I did when I was a partying kind of dude, but that party guy drew more false friends than true ones. When I committed to this kind of selfishness, I also became a better friend. Instead of giving too much and getting resentful and burned out, I now give what I can sustain. I figure I will always be able to do that, because I am the caretaker of my own flame first and foremost. I won’t ever offer the whole fire to someone else again - not that they wanted it to begin with.