Not everything "happens for a reason"

Can we evolve this house party philosophy by placing something greater at the centre than our own significance?

Hopefully my voiceover will offer the right tone for this piece, but if you’d like to read, might I suggest listening to “It Takes Time” by Fairhazel while you do.

I never believed in Santa Claus. My mother didn’t raise me to, as she felt it was important not to lie to children and then break their snowglobe hearts when revealing the truth. What she lacked to inform me was that other kids did believe in Santa, so I was often the one spilling the news to my five year old peers with the nonchalance of explaining how to double knot shoelaces. I was flabbergasted that they couldn’t tell the difference between fact and a fictitious man who travelled the world in a day to dish out gifts of coincidentally proportionate value to the economic status of each family (ok maybe I didn’t put it like that at five years old) and I had little sympathy for those who couldn’t accept reality. I’m at least consistent, because now as an adult I find myself stubbornly blurting a different kind of truth to my friends, “No, not everything happens for a reason.”

As you get older and go through more negative experiences, you may notice people’s attempts to soothe you or themselves with one or both of the phrases “Everything happens for a reason” and “Nothing that is for you will pass you.” I hear one of them weekly, but these statements have never sat right with me and feel too absolute. Everything happens for a reason? Nothing that is for me will pass me? Wow. It’s an impressively optimistic lens on my place and time in a vast universe. And it applies to everyone? Since always and until forever? What an amazing secret to life. Thank you for telling me in the kitchen at this house party.

“Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes the reason is you're stupid and make bad decisions.”
Marion G. Harmon, Ronin Games

It’s more than a worn out cliche. To say, so confidently, that there is a reason (an explanation or justification) for something sad or horrible happening is a bold statement to make, particularly when you might not know the belief system of the recipient. It’s perhaps worth noting that I’m not coming for spiritual beliefs here but it is interesting to me that people who would swear they’re not religious speak with such certainty about a future-oriented purpose for any grim incident, implying a superior force made it happen for the listener’s benefit. So much so that when an agnostic or atheist coos the fairytale phrase “Everything happens for a reason” at me thinking it’s somehow that different to “I’ll be praying for you” I am two sips of my gin and soda away from responding “PLEASE DON’T ASSUME I SUBSCRIBE TO YOUR IDEOLOGY.” I promise I’m fun. Regardless of spirituality, often people don’t want their negative experience proclaimed as something positive and meaningful, and would rather you validate them that the experience is rotten. But I also don’t think people have contemplated the scale of this “Everything happens for a reason” philosophy, what it really means, and just how self-centred it is.

For an ideology to work, it needs to be universally relevant, applicable to everyone. I doubt anyone would look into the eyes of a maimed construction accident victim and say “Everything happens for a reason,” but it’s bigger than this. When thinking of systemic poverty in third world countries with shortened lifespans and daily struggles for survival, would you tell their people not to worry, because everything happens for a reason? Of course not. Just as I wouldn’t tell a naughty child that their behaviour determines the presents they get from a man down a chimney, I wouldn’t tell a starving one that there’s a cosmic reason for it. And if there isn’t a star-determined reason for the mutilation of children in Gaza then there isn’t a path-aligning reason your boyfriend cheated on you. If it doesn’t pertain to all of us then it shouldn’t for any of us. These fluffy statements just reek of small mindedness and the incredible ease of our western lives.

“If you try to read too much into a tragedy, and you think, I’m jinxed, or, this is bad karma, or whatever, then you’re reading way too much into yourself. You’re making yourself way more important than you are.”
Stuart Diver, the sole survivor of the 1997 Thredbo landslide

The declaration that “Nothing that is for you will pass you” is also insensitive to the people who were very much passed by in life. I’m sure we all know of someone who never got to achieve their pipe dream, never found love, or who died too soon and missed out on a sweep of life experiences. To insinuate that it just wasn’t for them sounds haughty at the least. It was even mentioned in Season 6 Episode 7 of The Crown, with the Queen telling Prince William that she’s a firm believer that “what is for you won’t pass you by.” What a strange thing to say to someone whose mother died tragically and suddenly, even in historical fiction.

What they said: Everything happens for a reason.
What I heard: This was meant to happen. You were supposed to endure this. We are helpless against our fate.

Well, ok, perhaps there is a positive result from someone being “passed by.” Maybe their pipe dream wouldn’t have lived up to their expectations. Maybe they used their time as a single person to give back to the community. Maybe loss teaches us all gratitude about the preciousness of life. Sure. But these do not justify it. They do not reason away death. They don’t vindicate the people that caused the anguish in the first place. I find many people’s reasoning for suffering incredibly contrived and ultimately ridiculous. But there is one in particular I’ve heard that pains my heart. “If I hadn’t been abused I wouldn’t have helped other abuse sufferers.”

I can admire the determined pursuit of gratitude. How brave to look at what you have and what lies ahead, rather than grieve a life that wasn’t. Something beautiful can naturally come from something terrible. You can intentionally create something beautiful from something terrible. And I wholeheartedly believe in looking for the light in everything and making room for good things. BUT let’s not diminish that the catalyst was something hard, or unnatural, or devastating, and the outcomes do not remove, replace or justify the grief and pain. Leigh Sales said in her book Any Ordinary Day, “They are by-products of experiences that nobody would want in the first place.”

These results people are grateful for are also not exclusively accessed by a singular, fated, trauma-laden path. For example, you can, in a lot of cases, help people without having shared the same experience. Someone I went out with had been to prison and subsequently volunteered at a prison reform charity, and he marvelled at the empathy and dedication of the volunteers who had never been incarcerated or known anyone who was. His story of transforming his self-destructive life into one of helping others was inspiring, but I find the selflessness of those other volunteers heartening in a different way.

I know that for those who have suffered, we still don’t want it to be in vain, and we seek reassurance that our tribulations were somehow leading us to a better future. Our brains want to explain things well enough to file them away and move on, to satisfy our craving for a sense of cause and effect. And we want to feel special, that our existence has a unique significance to the universe. But… things can just happen… to anyone. Good things, bad things, weird things, astounding things, neutral things. And it’s a gift to be reminded that life isn’t a set plot but full of contradictions and surprises outside of our control. We are in many ways as vulnerable as each other. This is terrifying and I understand the reflex to push this away but it can be a remarkably beautiful epiphany to hold. I definitely choreograph my own life, but my dancing partner is life itself, and so, we improvise together. I live hand in hand with the things that just… happen.

Some people have said to me that to cope they have to believe there’s a reason and truthfully I don’t want to rob them of that. Optimism through adversity and specifically disease has shown to be linked with positive outcomes such as closer relationships, appreciating life and seeing new possibilities. And I understand that grief and hardship can be awkward, so we use these statements to fill the air, to attempt comfort and to show we care. Sometimes “Everything happens for a reason” is really just someone saying “I love you and I hope that, despite this, things work out.” Even still, I hope we can embrace a globally inclusive philosophy that places something greater at the core than ourselves and our own supposed significance. Maybe, to comfort someone, you don’t have to make them feel like the centre of the whole universe, but you can make them feel like an important part of yours.

Ps. If you hated this post, well maybe you’ll find a reason to make it worth reading.

Pps. I concede that “Nothing that is for you will pass you by” would be a great neon sign in a modern sushi train restaurant.

Pps. Comment below if I should make a case against “it is what it is” next.