The Existential Crisis: From Disconnection to Discovery

Note to Readers: While this entry refers to the term “existential crisis”—a phrase that resonates with many—it’s important to recognise that what we call a crisis is, in fact, composed of existential concerns that live quietly within us all. These concerns—death, freedom, isolation, and meaninglessness—often operate beneath conscious awareness, yet they exert a persistent psychological weight. They can burden our inner world, generating tension, unease, or restlessness that we may not fully understand. The value in exploring them lies not only in moments of crisis, but in everyday life. Bringing these concerns into conscious reflection can be clarifying, grounding, and, in many cases, deeply therapeutic.

Opening Reflections

The existential crisis is a topic that has perplexed and fascinated thinkers for centuries. This phenomenon, often seen as a hallmark of the human condition, plunges us into the depths of profound questioning about life, purpose, and the very nature of existence itself. To confront our own existence, to wonder why we are here and how we ought to make sense of our lives—this, arguably, is one of the most fundamental aspects of being human.

Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Friedrich

Depicting a lone figure overlooking a vast landscape, emblematic of contemplation of life’s path.

But the term “existential crisis” can, at first glance, appear obscure or even overly abstract. What does it actually mean to have such a crisis? In more relatable terms, an existential crisis refers to those moments—often catalysed by loss, trauma, transition, or reflection—when the frameworks that ordinarily give our lives coherence begin to fracture. It is the confrontation with questions that have no easy answers: What is the point of all this? Can anyone ever fully know me? If it all ends, why does it matter?

Unlike specific emotional struggles, the existential crisis cuts deeper—it unsettles our orientation to the struggle itself. It is not simply about how to live, but why to live, and for what. It destabilises not only the narrative we tell ourselves about our lives, but also the significance of narrative itself. This is not a pathological state per se, though it can certainly overlap with psychological suffering; rather, it is a deeply human reckoning with the condition of being.

What is an Existential Crisis?

At various points in life, individuals may encounter moments of profound disorientation—experiences that unsettle their assumptions about identity, purpose, and the broader significance of existence. These episodes are often referred to as existential crises.

The term is rooted in the Latin existentia, which derives from existere, meaning ‘to stand forth’ or ‘to emerge’, and which in philosophical usage came to denote the condition of being—particularly the lived experience of being. An existential crisis, then, refers not merely to a temporary confusion or emotional disturbance, but to a confrontation with the raw fact of one’s existence. It involves a fundamental questioning of life’s meaning that resists easy resolution, often provoked by events that shatter routine or render established beliefs inadequate—such as bereavement, illness, loss of faith, significant life transitions, or even periods of reflection.

Philosophically, such questions have long occupied the existential tradition. Although the term “existentialism” gained prominence in the 20th century, its roots can be traced earlier. Søren Kierkegaard, often regarded as the first existential thinker, explored the profound anxiety tied to human freedom—the unsettling awareness that we must make choices without objective certainty, and that the responsibility for those choices lies entirely with us. Friedrich Nietzsche challenged inherited moral structures and questioned the viability of meaning in the absence of transcendent foundations. Later, figures such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus developed these ideas further—Sartre famously asserting that “existence precedes essence,” highlighting the view that humans are not born with a predetermined purpose but must forge meaning through choice and action.

Sartre, Camus, Kierkegaard

(Listed from left to right).

Over time, these philosophical insights found resonance within psychology, particularly in the existential and humanistic schools of thought. Thinkers such as Viktor Frankl, Rollo May, and Irvin Yalom integrated existential concerns into clinical frameworks, recognising that many forms of psychological distress are underpinned by unresolved existential tensions—such as isolation, mortality, freedom, and the search for meaning.

While existential crises are often disorientating, they are not pathological in and of themselves. Rather, they are a natural part of human development—moments when the superficial scaffolding of life gives way, prompting a deeper interrogation of values, purpose, and self-understanding.

Nietzsche, Frankl, May

(Listed from left to right).

The Four Core Existential Concerns

The four core existential concerns—death, freedom, isolation, and meaninglessness—are widely recognised within existential thought. What follows is a closer look at each in turn.

Irvin D. Yalom

Proposed the widely recognised four core existential concerns.

Death:
Death represents the ultimate boundary of human life. The awareness of our mortality is not simply a biological fact but a deeply existential realisation—it confronts us with the finitude of time and the inevitability of loss. This awareness can evoke anxiety, dread, or avoidance, but it also imbues our actions with urgency and weight. The concern with death is closely intertwined with our relationship to time itself: how we structure it, how we value it, and how we attempt to leave a trace that extends beyond it.

Freedom:
In this context, freedom refers to the absence of fixed, external determinants governing our choices. We are, in a fundamental sense, free to shape our lives through the decisions we make. Yet this freedom is accompanied by an inescapable responsibility—we cannot avoid the consequences of our choices, nor can we fully attribute them to others. This burden of authorship can be liberating, allowing for authenticity and growth, but can also be paralysing, as it exposes us to the weight of uncertainty and the fear of misdirection.

Isolation:
While human beings are inherently relational, existential thought highlights a more fundamental form of isolation—the fact that no one else can fully live our experience for us. Even in deep connection with others, there remains an unbridgeable gap between each person’s inner experience. This realisation can foster individuation and self-understanding, but it may also evoke profound loneliness, alienation, and a sense of being continuously adrift.

Meaninglessness:
Human beings are, by nature, meaning-seeking creatures. Yet the world offers no inherent or guaranteed source of meaning. Confronting the apparent indifference of existence—the possibility that life holds no intrinsic purpose—can evoke despair, nihilism, or existential anxiety. However, this very absence of predetermined meaning also opens a unique possibility: the freedom to create, choose, or discover meaning through one’s values, commitments, and creative engagement with the world. Paradoxically, the lack of inherent purpose becomes the very foundation upon which a meaningful life can be consciously built. Yet when this necessary search for meaning is neglected or remains inaccessible, the sense of meaninglessness often persists—leaving individuals vulnerable to the psychological weight of this realisation.

Burdened by Being, Open to Becoming

Even outside the context of crisis, existential concerns remain a constant feature of human consciousness. From the moment our minds develop sufficient reflective capacity, we begin—often implicitly—to engage with the essential questions that define our existence.

To be human is, in part, to bear the weight of freedom and the responsibility that accompanies it; to recognise the essential solitude of our inner worlds; and to search—often with difficulty—for a sense of purpose in a reality that does not provide it readily. These existential conditions are not reserved for rare moments of crisis. Rather, they constitute the ground upon which ordinary life unfolds.

While an existential crisis can be understood as a state of acute despair triggered by the intensified confrontation with these concerns, the concerns themselves are enduring. A sense of purposelessness, a refusal to own responsibility, or a persistent feeling of estrangement may not be pathological in isolation, but they can erode psychological resilience and exacerbate underlying vulnerabilities. Even when they are not the root cause of suffering, they can frequently deepen it.

Yet it is precisely this capacity for existential questioning that enables something more. The same structures that give rise to despair also create the possibility for depth, transformation, and creativity. Our confrontation with freedom, mortality, isolation, and meaninglessness is not merely a burden; it is also the condition for transcendence. It is this very grappling—this refusal to look away—that has driven individuals to acts of profound insight, innovative achievement, moral courage, and a lasting influence that resonates across generations.

Indeed, it may be that our ability to ask why, even when no answer is guaranteed, is a defining feature of the human condition. The existential impulse, while a source of vulnerability, is also the wellspring of aspiration—the force that compels us to go beyond survival, to shape lives of significance, and to strive towards ideals not because we must, but because we can.