The Quiet Purposes in Our Struggles
What if the feelings you struggle with aren't leftovers from the past, but quiet strategies you chose for the present? A reflection on teleology, purpose, and the courage to live differently.
Last year, I read Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga’s book “The Courage to Be Disliked”. It’s a conversation between a youth and a philosopher, mostly about Adlerian psychology and its principles. I’ll be honest — the conversation was intense. A few concepts needed re-reading to truly sink in. I started applying them at work and in my relationships. Some are working, others I’m still consciously improving. The reason I’m writing this isn’t to boast. I want to bring these concepts to you and share how I’m using them in my daily life. This will be a series of posts covering the core principles as I dive deeper.
Let’s start with the first and most important concept: Teleology. I chose to begin here because it deals with one of the most misunderstood words in our lives — “Purpose”.
Understanding Teleology
Teleology is the idea that human beings are oriented toward purpose rather than pushed forward by cause. In Adlerian psychology, this forms the foundation of how behaviour, emotion, and personality are understood.
Rather than asking what happened in the past to create the present, teleology asks what kind of future the individual is trying to move toward — consciously or unconsciously.
Alfred Adler rejected the dominant psychological thinking of his time, which explained behaviour through childhood trauma, instinct, or unconscious drives. He didn’t deny that past experiences exist, but he believed they don’t mechanically determine present behaviour. Instead, people actively interpret their experiences and use those interpretations to pursue goals in the present moment.
What shapes a life is not the past itself, but the meaning one assigns to it.
Some of you may argue that your current state of life is because of your past. Adler doesn’t deny that. He’s saying you’ve attached a meaning to those past events, and that meaning is shaping your present. Consider someone who avoids committed relationships. We might assume it’s because of past heartbreak or watching his parents struggle. But from a teleological perspective, it isn’t the past doing this. It’s the meaning he’s assigned: that all relationships are harsh and troublesome. That meaning becomes his reason to stay withdrawn, to avoid the vulnerability that connection demands.
From a teleological perspective, human behaviour is always goal-oriented. Even behaviours that appear irrational, self-defeating, or harmful are attempts to achieve some form of psychological safety or perceived success.
Anxiety may function as a way to avoid failure. Anger may function as a means of exerting control. Withdrawal may function as protection from rejection. These behaviours persist not because a person is broken, but because the behaviour successfully serves a purpose.
Emotions aren’t uncontrollable forces that just happen to us. They’re responses that align with the goal we’ve chosen, whether we realise it or not.
Let me give you an example. Think of a developer who keeps postponing the launch of a side project. He tells himself the code isn’t ready, the design needs polish, the timing is wrong. On the surface, it looks like perfectionism. But the delay serves a purpose: by never launching, he never faces public failure. The procrastination isn’t a flaw — it’s a strategy to protect his self-image. The moment he recognises this, he can choose to launch anyway, accepting the risk of being judged, because the goal has shifted from self-protection to genuine contribution.
Teleology is often difficult to accept because it removes the comfort of inevitability. Cause-based thinking allows us to say, “I can’t change because of what happened to me.” Teleological thinking responds, “You’re continuing this behaviour because it serves you now.” This shift can feel harsh, but Adler saw it as profoundly humane.
To deny choice is to deny the possibility of change. To recognise choice is to restore dignity and freedom.
In Adlerian psychology, freedom doesn’t mean acting without limits. It means recognising that your current way of living is a selected strategy rather than an imposed fate.
Change doesn’t require reliving the past repeatedly. It requires deciding what kind of life you wish to move toward now.
We often hear people say that change is difficult. It is — but usually because we talk about change without understanding the goals embedded in our current behaviour.
The past can inform us, but it doesn’t imprison us. At any moment, a person can choose a different purpose, and with that choice, behaviour and emotion naturally begin to transform.
This is why teleology stands as the gateway concept. Without understanding purpose, ideas such as responsibility, courage, freedom, and community feeling can’t be fully grasped.
Teleology in the Modern World
Teleology becomes especially relevant today because many of our struggles no longer come from survival threats, but from psychological ones. To put this in a more realistic perspective — our generation is arguably living in the most comfortable era in human history. No previous generation has experienced the kind of comforts we currently enjoy. By most measures, we’re living in abundance. And yet we’re remarkably skilled at turning that abundance into suffering — not because of external forces, but because of the goals our minds quietly pursue.
Adlerian psychology explains this paradox by pointing not to the past, but to the goals hidden inside our behaviour. Human beings are driven by purpose.
Teleology and Modern Work
In modern work culture, exhaustion and anxiety are often explained through external causes: deadlines, managers, competition, or economic pressure. While these factors are real, teleology asks a different question: What purpose does this stress serve for the individual?
For many people, overwork isn’t simply imposed — it becomes a strategy. Anxiety at work can function as a way to avoid deeper risks. Staying endlessly busy protects a person from asking uncomfortable questions: Do I actually want this career? Am I choosing this life, or hiding inside it?
From a teleological perspective, burnout can sometimes serve the goal of avoiding the responsibility of choice. If you’re “forced” to work this way, then you never have to confront whether the work itself is meaningful. The exhaustion becomes a shield.
Teleology and Anxiety
Modern anxiety is often treated as a malfunction — a disorder to be eliminated. Adlerian psychology approaches it differently. Anxiety isn’t something that attacks us. It’s something that works for us.
Anxiety frequently serves the purpose of avoidance. It can protect a person from failure, rejection, responsibility, or exposure. By remaining anxious, you avoid taking action — and by avoiding action, you avoid the risk of being judged or failing openly.
This is why anxiety often intensifies right before growth. It won’t disappear simply by understanding the past. It begins to dissolve when you choose a different goal — one that values courage over safety. When the goal changes, the emotional strategy naturally changes with it.
Here’s an example. Think of someone who’s been wanting to switch careers for years. Every time the opportunity appears — a job posting, a networking event — the anxiety spikes. Racing thoughts, a sudden certainty that now isn’t the right time. From the outside, it looks like fear. But the anxiety isn’t the obstacle — it’s the tool. It keeps him in the familiar role where he feels competent and safe. It won’t lift by analysing where it came from. It will begin to lift when he decides that building a meaningful career matters more than avoiding the discomfort of starting over.
Teleology and Social Media
Social media is one of the clearest modern arenas where teleology operates in plain sight. On the surface, scrolling appears passive. In reality, it’s deeply goal-oriented.
People often say social media causes insecurity or comparison. Teleology asks instead: What does constant comparison achieve?
For many, social media serves the goal of avoiding real-world engagement. It provides the illusion of connection without the vulnerability of intimacy. It offers validation without risk. Identity is performed rather than lived.
Endless scrolling functions as emotional anaesthesia. It dulls anxiety, loneliness, and uncertainty — but only temporarily. The problem isn’t social media itself, but the goal it fulfils: avoiding the discomfort of real contribution and real relationships. Insecurity persists not because platforms exist, but because we’ve adopted approval-seeking as a life goal.
Consider someone who spends two hours each evening curating Instagram posts — adjusting filters, rewriting captions, checking likes every few minutes after posting. He calls it a creative outlet. But notice what happens when a post gets few likes: the mood drops, the evening feels hollow, the urge to post again grows stronger. The posting isn’t an idle habit. It serves the goal of securing validation without the exposure of real-world connection. If he invested those same two hours in a face-to-face conversation with a friend, the discomfort would be greater — but so would the genuine sense of belonging.
Avoidance vs Courage
Teleology reveals that much of modern suffering serves the purpose of avoiding courage. Courage to choose. Courage to fail openly. Courage to live without guaranteed approval.
This is why freedom is inseparable from responsibility. To give up anxiety, burnout, or validation-seeking isn’t simply to “heal” — it’s to accept the risk of living differently.
Teleology doesn’t promise comfort. It promises honesty.
It tells us that the question is never, “Why am I like this?”
The real question is always, “What kind of life am I trying to protect by staying this way?”
Modern anxiety isn’t a weakness — it’s often a strategy. And strategies can be changed when courage replaces avoidance as the goal.