2NC Inevitability – Suffering Suffering is an unavoidable condition of being human – the idea we can control the world and eliminate suffering destroys all value to life.
Kain 7 (Philip J, Professor of philosophy at University of Santa Clara, "Nietzsche, Eternal Recurrence, and the Horror of Existence," the Journal of Nietzsche Studies, muse, AD: 7/6/09)
We have seen that in Nietzsche's opinion we cannot bear meaningless suffering and so we give it a meaning. Christianity, for example, explains it as punishment for sin. Eternal recurrence, however, would certainly seem to plunge us back into meaningless suffering (WP 55). It implies that suffering just happens, it repeats eternally, it is fated. There is no plan, no purpose, no reason for it. Eternal recurrence would seem to rub our noses in meaningless suffering. In one sense this is perfectly correct. And Nietzsche does want to accept as much meaninglessness and suffering as he can bear (BGE 39, 225; WP 585a). Nevertheless, we must see that there is meaning here—it is just that it lies precisely in the meaninglessness. Embracing eternal recurrence means imposing suffering on oneself, meaningless suffering, suffering that just happens, suffering for no reason at all. But at the very same time, this creates the innocence of existence. The meaninglessness of suffering means the innocence of suffering. That is the new meaning that suffering is given. Suffering no longer has its old meaning. Suffering no longer has the meaning Christianity gave to it. Suffering can no longer be seen as punishment. There is no longer any guilt. There is no longer any sin. One is no longer accountable (TI "Errors" 8; HH 99). If suffering just returns eternally, if even the slightest change is impossible, how can one be to blame for it? How can one be responsible? It can be none of our doing. We are innocent. This itself could explain why one would be able to embrace eternal recurrence, love every detail of one's life, not wish to change a single moment of suffering. One would be embracing one's own innocence. One would be loving one's own redemption from guilt. Eternal recurrence brings the Übermensch as close as possible to the truth, meaninglessness, the void, but it does not go all the way or it would crush even the Übermensch. Eternal recurrence gives the Übermensch meaning. It eliminates emptiness. It fills the void. With what? It fills it with something totally familiar and completely known; with something that is in no way new, different, or strange; with something that is not at all frightening. It fills the void with one's own life—repeated eternally. It is true that this life is a life of suffering, but (given the horror of existence) suffering cannot be avoided anyway, and at least suffering has been stripped of any surplus suffering brought about by concepts of sin, punishment, or guilt. It has been reduced to a life of innocence. Moreover, as Nietzsche has said, it is only meaningless suffering that is the problem. If given a meaning, even suffering becomes something we can seek (GM III:28). Eternal recurrence, the fatedness of suffering, its meaningless repetition, makes our suffering innocent. That might well be reason enough to embrace it. Or, although we may not be able to embrace it ourselves, I think we can at least see why Nietzsche might—and even why it might make sense for him to do so. [End Page 59] Eternal recurrence also gives suffering another meaning. If one is able to embrace eternal recurrence, if one is able to turn all "it was" into a "thus I willed it," then one not only reduces suffering to physical suffering, breaks its psychological stranglehold, and eliminates surplus suffering related to guilt, but one may even in a sense reduce suffering below the level of physical suffering. One does not do this as the liberal, socialist, or Christian would, by changing the world to reduce suffering. In Nietzsche's opinion that is impossible, and, indeed, eternal recurrence of the same rules it out—at least as any sort of final achievement.23 Rather, physical suffering is reduced by treating it as a test, a discipline, a training, which brings one greater power. One might think of an athlete who engages in more and more strenuous activity, accepts greater and greater pain, handles it better and better, and sees this as a sign of greater strength, as a sign of increased ability. Pain and suffering are turned into empowerment. Indeed, it is possible to love such suffering as a sign of increased power. One craves pain—"more pain! more pain!" (GM III:20). And the more suffering one can bear, the stronger one becomes. If suffering is self-imposed, if the point is to break the psychological stranglehold it has over us, if the point is to turn suffering into empowerment, use it as a discipline to gain greater strength, then it would be entirely inappropriate for us to feel sorry for the sufferer. To take pity on the sufferer either would demonstrate an ignorance of the process the sufferer is engaged in, what the sufferer is attempting to accomplish through suffering, or would show a lack of respect for the sufferer's suffering (GS 338; D 135). To pity the sufferer, to wish the sufferer did not have to go through such suffering, would demean the sufferer and the whole process of attempting to gain greater strength through such suffering. Let us try again to put ourselves in Nietzsche's place. He has suffered for years. He has suffered intensely for years. He has come to realize that he cannot end this suffering. He cannot even reduce it significantly. But he has finally been able to break the psychological stranglehold it has had over him. He is able to accept it. He wills it. He would not change the slightest detail. He is able to love it. And this increases his strength. How, then, would he respond to our pity? Very likely, he would be offended. He would think we were patronizing him. He would not want us around. He would perceive us as trying to rob him of the strength he had achieved, subjugate him again to his suffering, strip him of his dignity. He would be disgusted with our attempt to be do-gooders, our attempt to impose our own meaning on his suffering (treating it as something to pity and to lessen) in opposition to the meaning he has succeeded in imposing on it.