Concluding Unscientific Postscript

The “subjective problem” of Christianity concerns the inner life of the believer—their choice or decision for faith. A decision to believe in Christianity is not the result of “objective deliberation”—the topic of the previous chapters—but a matter of “subjective acceptance” (116).

To become Christians, we must “become subjective,” freeing ourselves from the pretension of being disinterested and looking squarely at the personal choice involved in believing. Kierkegaard stakes the bold claim that “objectively, Christianity has absolutely no existence” because it is wholly concerned with the subjective inner life of the individual (116), not with abstract ideas or humanity as a collective.

Christianity proposes to give the individual eternal happiness, but it does not assume that the individual is automatically ready to receive it. We are all subjects and potentially able to receive truth and eternal happiness; however, we must develop this capacity and in a sense strive to become what we already are. Elsewhere in the book Kierkegaard will speak of the paradox that we become Christians at baptism, yet we must also become Christians throughout our lives. In other words, we must personally appropriate the Christian faith that was conferred on us at birth. This is by no means an easy task.

Importantly, Kierkegaard makes a distinction between the common understanding of the term “subjective” and the sense in which he uses it. People commonly understand “subjective” to mean selfish, self-absorbed, or eccentric. This is not what he means by the term. Rather, he means being “a subject in truth” (117). This definition will be crucial for the ensuing argument: Kierkegaard will characterize truth itself as subjective because one must accept it in a spirit of passionate personal interest.

Also in this chapter, Kierkegaard introduces the term “the ethical,” which will be an important category in his argument. The ethical has to do with choices we make for good or evil. Kierkegaard argues that objective or systematic thought tends to ignore the ethical dimension of life and instead make judgments based on a “quantitative dialectic” (120). For example, what the historian considers to be historically important is often based not on questions of moral goodness but on questions of magnitude or influence. Kierkegaard argues that this turn from ethical to quantitative standards is dangerous since the ethical is what should chiefly concern us as human beings.

A consequence of this turn is the obsession with the “world-historical”: comprehensive theories that claim to explain the trajectory of history, such as Hegelian philosophy. For Kierkegaard, such a preoccupation tempts the individual to seek “world-historical significance” as a goal instead of acting ethically in their own sphere of life (120). An obsession with history tends to make one concentrate on the accidental—i.e., on external events instead of moral choices—and to treat these as of prime importance. Concentrating on historical greatness at the expense of small-scale moral decisions tends to stifle moral action, actually making one “unfit for action” (121). Objective thought fixates on knowledge as the salvation of mankind, neglecting action and ethics. For Kierkegaard, our primary work must be to become good human beings and only secondarily to become knowledgeable.

Kierkegaard defines the ethical individual. Such a person seeks to do good regardless of whether it will make them famous or influential. They do not pretend that God or history “needs” them. Although they strive to the utmost to do the right thing, they are humble about their actions and not concerned with their importance either for people around them or for posterity. Such “ethical enthusiasm” is part and parcel of their “God-relationship”; this is a precious and private thing not to be shared with the world in a vulgar way. The ethical person’s sole motivation is faithfulness to God, not glory or respect in the eyes of the world. Kierkegaard argues that the ethical is the highest task for human beings (135)—something that all spheres of life and study must be concerned with, including science and history. Being ethical implies being subjective, and thus the process of becoming subjective is a crucial task for all of us.

Kierkegaard emphasizes that he is not saying that world-historical concerns have no importance; what he is saying is that God and eternity—not humans in the here and now—determine their importance (142).

In a personal passage, Kierkegaard explains that he is constantly led to ponder his own moral failings and that this has become his focus in life (144). Kierkegaard wants this interiority—as exemplified in the thought and life of Socrates—to become the focus of thinkers once again. Such an interior life, expressing itself in the intimacy of prayer, is difficult and will take up most of one’s time, thus becoming the work of a lifetime (145). It is a necessary task, however, because the eternal reward that Christianity promises “exists only for those who are subjective” (146).

Kierkegaard claims that the process of becoming subjective, although seemingly simple, is in fact the most difficult thing we can do—far more difficult than attaining scientific knowledge (144). In the remainder of the chapter, he considers other examples of the principle that simple and obvious things are often the most difficult.

1. Death is a certainty for human beings, yet at the same time it is a mystery. Knowing what precisely death is and how to prepare for it is difficult.

2. The question of immortality is a mystery. Many thinkers have written about it in a general and abstract way, yet this does not answer the question “am I immortal?” or explain how the answer to this question transforms one’s life.

3. It is easy to understand that we must always thank God for the good things he gives us, yet it is difficult to put this into practice or to understand what it truly means.

4. There are spiritual difficulties in the question of marriage and what it means to be married, which married people or clergymen preaching on marriage rarely consider.

To conclude the chapter, Kierkegaard switches to a personal narrative. He tells of the turning point he experienced four years previously that made him decide to become an author (164-67). While smoking a cigar at an outdoor café, he had a sudden epiphany: Whereas other people were laboring to make life easier in the 19th century, his calling would be to make life harder. His purpose as a philosopher would be to make people think hard about their very existence and the deepest questions of life, which we often gloss over.