“You accuse me of being a nihilist? Of course, I’m a nihilist. You say that like it’s something bad.”

When I think of nihilists, I usually think of Russian anarchists trying to overthrow the Czarist monarchy at the beginning of the twentieth century.

According to my ever-handy Google dictionary, an anarchist is a person who believes in or tries to bring about anarchy. (That’s not very helpful.) According to Google, anarchy is a state of disorder due to absence or nonrecognition of authority. (That’s better.) Those anarchists who were trying to throw Czar Nicholas II “out of office” were not trying to replace him with someone else; they were trying to replace him with nobody.

A nihilist, meanwhile, is a person who believes that life is meaningless and rejects all religious and moral principles. It may well be that some or all those old Russian anarchists were also nihilists, but one can be a nihilist without being an anarchist. Or, at least, one can be pretty much a nihilist without being an anarchist. Take me: I’m pretty much a nihilist, but I’m not an anarchist.

I believe that life is inherently meaningless. We were not put on this earth for any specific purpose or even for some generic purpose. Each of us is a mere quirk of nature. A pure happenstance. The result of eons of a seemingly random, unpredictable evolutionary process.

But just because our lives have no inherent meaning with no objective purpose, that doesn’t mean that our lives have to be subjectively meaningless. We can make up some purpose for our lives. Or even multiple purposes for our lives. One purpose may be to lead an enjoyable life. Another purpose may be to have and raise good kids. Yet another purpose may be to be a good relative and friend to people we know. Still another purpose may be to make the world a better place, even for people we don’t know. How we live our lives is dictated by our personal principles of morality.

I believe that morality is relative, not absolute. As a devout atheist, I don’t believe that there is a god who once dictated or continues to dictate “religious and moral principles” that are universal and immutable. Nor do I believe that there are natural laws that dictate moral principles that are universal and immutable.

Here and now, it is immoral to sacrifice virgins. There and then, it was moral.

Here and now, it is immoral to own slaves. Here and then, it was moral.

Here and now, it is immoral to kill rape victims. There and now, it is moral.

In a given society corresponding to a particular location and a particular time, one or more members of that society determine what morality is. In some societies, it might be the king who determines what morality is. In some societies, it might be leaders of religion. In some societies, it might be the body politic.

Members who agree with the morality of their society that exists here and now believe that their morality is better than the different moralities that existed here and then, and also better than the different moralities that exist there and now, not to mention those different moralities that existed there and then.

Morality evolves over time because of the attitudes and actions of one or more members of the society who try to convince others that the present morality is inferior to a different morality. Those members may include some or all the same members who previously determined the existing morality, or they may be completely different members.

So morality is relative, not absolute. It is subjective, not objective. It depends on both location and time.

But just because morality is not absolute or objective, that does not mean that morality does not exist. I have an (ever-changing) morality. I believe that certain things are good and other things are bad. I acquired my morality from my genetics and my history. If either of those things were different (and, by the way, my history is always changing, resulting in my ever-changing morality), then my morality could/would be different.

My morality was not created ex nihilo. My morality is the result of millions of years of hominid evolution and over six decades of Steve evolution. It is a personal morality in that it is (perhaps) unique to me, but it is also a shared morality because it has many, many features in common with millions of others who are products of similar evolutions. As my history changes, my morality can change.

Because of my existence in my society here and now, I believe that sacrificing virgins is immoral. I understand that circumstances there and then led members of that society to believe that sacrificing virgins was moral. If I had lived in that society there and then, I too might have believed that sacrificing virgins was moral. But that doesn’t mean that I do not have the right to judge that society’s morality.

Because of my society, I believe that owning slaves is immoral. I understand that circumstances here and then led members of that society to believe that owning slaves was moral. If I had lived in that society here and then, I too might have believed that owning slaves was moral. But that doesn’t mean that I do not have the right to judge that society’s morality.

Because of my society, I believe that killing rape victims is immoral. I understand that circumstances there and now lead members of that society to believe that killing rape victims is moral. If I lived in that society there and now, I too might believe that killing rape victims is moral. But that doesn’t mean that I do not have the right to judge that society’s morality.

Nor does it mean that I do not have the right to try to convince members of that existing society to change their morality. Of course, members of that existing society also have the right to judge the morality of my society. And they also have the right to try to convince me and other members of my society to change our morality. After all, that’s how the moralities of societies evolve over time.

In other words, I believe that life is inherently meaningless and that there are no universal, immutable moral principles, but I do believe that life can and should have subjective meaning dictated by our relative, mutable moral principles. That’s why I say that I am only “pretty much” a nihilist.