We defend our opinions, values, and beliefs. But how many of them have we actually developed ourselves? On Nietzsche, social expectations, and the courage to question even our own truths.
Benjamin Trinidad Segura
8 min read
We all have opinions. Beliefs. Values. Ideas about what is right and wrong, what makes someone a good person, and what a successful life should look like.
We defend these ideas. Sometimes passionately.
But how often do we actually ask ourselves where they come from?
How many of our beliefs have we developed ourselves? And how many have we adopted without ever seriously thinking about them?
From our parents. Our friends. Our religion. Our culture. The society we grew up in.
Maybe we think some things are right not because we have questioned them ourselves, but because we were never taught to question them.
And that doesn't have to be a bad thing.
It only becomes a problem when we stop distinguishing between ideas we've adopted and decisions we've made for ourselves.
We often see our opinions as an integral part of our identity.
This is who I am. This is how I think. This is what I believe.
But our identity doesn't develop independently of our surroundings.
We are shaped long before we even understand what it means to be shaped.
As children, we learn what behavior is expected. What earns approval. Which decisions are considered sensible and which are supposedly bound to lead to failure.
We adopt ideas about how relationships should work, what career we should choose, and when we are supposed to have achieved something in life.
And at some point, other people's expectations start to seem like our own truths.
The crucial question, though, isn't whether we've been influenced.
Of course we have.
The crucial question is whether we're willing to recognize and question those influences.
Just because we've carried a belief with us all our lives doesn't mean it must be right.
And just because many people believe something doesn't make it the truth.
The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche thought deeply about how people develop their values and what happens when long-held certainties lose their meaning.
One of his best-known ideas is that of the Übermensch.
A term that is often misunderstood.
It isn't simply about a physically superior person, a superhero, or someone who is worth more than others because of their background.
Nietzsche's Übermensch is better understood as a philosophical ideal: a person who grows beyond inherited values, creates their own values, and continually overcomes themselves.
His famous statement “God is dead” is also often reduced to a simple rejection of religion.
But Nietzsche was grappling with a much broader question:
What happens to our moral ideas when the foundations our worldview has long rested on lose their unquestioned authority?
What do we turn to then?
Who decides what is right?
And are we even willing to take on that responsibility ourselves?
I find these questions incredibly fascinating.
Not because I think Nietzsche had the right answer to everything.
But because his ideas can challenge us to question things we normally take for granted.
We live in a society full of unspoken rules.
You should get good grades.
You should find a secure job.
You should figure out as early as possible what you want to do with your life.
You should be successful. But please, not too ambitious.
You should be an individual. But preferably not stand out too much.
You should stand up for your opinion. As long as it doesn't become too uncomfortable.
Of course, not all these expectations are inherently wrong.
Some of them do make sense.
But why do we so often treat them as if they were universal truths?
Why do we judge people by their résumés, degrees, income, or social status, when all these things show only a small part of who a person is?
And why are we so quick to see a life path that differs from the social norm as a failure?
Maybe because we've learned to define success according to certain criteria.
But who actually set those criteria?
A life plan accepted by society isn't automatically the right one for everyone.
Perhaps part of personal freedom lies in allowing ourselves, in the first place, to imagine a different life for ourselves.
I think there's a danger here, too.
Someone who starts questioning social norms might conclude that anything other people consider right must be wrong.
But to me, that would just be another form of dependence.
Because anyone who always does the opposite of what others expect is still letting those expectations determine their decisions.
Just in the opposite direction.
Not every act of rebellion is freedom. Sometimes it's just another form of conformity.
To me, self-determination doesn't mean rejecting every tradition, breaking every rule, or always opposing the majority.
It means being able to make conscious choices.
I can embrace a value my parents taught me because, after reflecting on it for myself, I believe it's right.
I can believe in God and still reflect critically on my faith.
I can accept social rules without considering them infallible.
And I can change my mind without losing my identity.
Perhaps independence is shown precisely by not having to be different just for the sake of it.
It's shown by understanding why we choose what we choose.
It's easy to question other people's beliefs.
We spot contradictions. Critique ways of thinking. Find flaws in other people's arguments.
But how often do we apply the same standards to ourselves?
How often do we ask ourselves whether we might be the ones who misunderstood something?
Whether an opinion we've held for years might be based on a false assumption?
Whether we hold on to certain ideas because we truly believe in them?
Or because it would be uncomfortable to admit that we were wrong?
I think that's exactly where a particularly difficult kind of personal growth begins.
Because it takes effort to let go of a belief that has long been part of our identity.
It takes courage to admit to other people that you were wrong.
And sometimes it takes even more courage to admit it to yourself.
Anyone who truly wants to think independently must be willing to question their own thoughts, too.
That doesn't mean we have to doubt everything.
But perhaps we should remind ourselves more often that belief and truth aren't the same thing.
There's another idea I find especially important.
We talk constantly about being authentic.
Stay the way you are.
Don't pretend to be someone you're not.
Be true to yourself.
And in principle, I find these messages understandable.
But what happens when the person we are today is no longer the person we want to be tomorrow?
What happens when we realize that certain behaviors, beliefs, or habits aren't good for us?
Do we have to stay true to them just because they've been part of us until now?
I don't think so.
We're allowed to grow.
We're allowed to change.
We're allowed to leave old beliefs behind and develop new ones.
And we're allowed to discover contradictions within ourselves, too.
Maybe authenticity isn't an obligation to remain the same person forever.
Maybe being authentic also means giving ourselves permission to become someone else.
Not because other people expect it of us.
But because we've recognized for ourselves that we want to change.
I don't think we can ever be completely independent of outside influences.
And I don't know whether that would even be desirable.
We learn from each other.
Our encounters shape us.
Through love. Disappointments. Experiences. Conversations. Books. People who inspire us, and people who challenge us.
All of this is part of our development.
So for me, the question isn't how we can remove every influence from our lives.
It's how we can learn to engage with them more consciously.
We don't have to reject everything we've been taught.
We don't have to fight every social norm.
And we don't have to keep trying to be extraordinary.
But we can ask ourselves whether the life we're living actually reflects our own ideas.
Whether we make our decisions out of conviction or out of fear of rejection.
Whether we pursue certain goals because they truly matter to us, or because we've learned that we should achieve them.
And whether we'd be willing to change our path if we realized it no longer suited us.
How much of you is really you?
I don't think there's a simple answer to that.
Maybe more of us is shaped by other people than we'd like to admit.
But that doesn't make us any less individual.
Because we're not just the result of what has happened to us or what other people have taught us.
We can also decide how to deal with these influences.
What we keep.
What we change.
And what we want to leave behind.
We don't have to become perfect people to do that.
We don't have to have an answer to every question.
And we don't have to give up every belief we've held so far.
Maybe it is enough, for now, to stay curious.
About other perspectives.
About new insights.
And above all, about the possibility that we ourselves haven't understood everything yet.
You don't have to reject everything that has shaped you. But you can decide for yourself what should continue to shape you.
And perhaps that's exactly where one of the most beautiful possibilities of human development lies:
We don't have to remain forever the people we once became.
We can help shape who we become.
Discussion
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