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The Freedom No One Can Take Away

 

 

یہ مضمون اردو میں پڑھیں

Viktor Frankl, the Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist who survived the horrors of Nazi concentration camps, once expressed a timeless truth: everything can be taken away from a person—health, wealth, relationships, possessions—but one freedom always remains: the freedom to choose one’s response.

This insight was not a philosophical idea formed in a comfortable armchair; it was uncovered through the toughest human experiences. Frankl spent three years in concentration camps, dealing with starvation, humiliation, forced labor, and the constant threat of death. Every morning, he woke up uncertain if he would make it through the day, and each night, he went to sleep not knowing if he would see the sunrise. Still, amidst this daily fight with mortality, he learned that even when everything was taken away, there was one thing his captors could not take—his inner freedom.

Freedom in the Midst of Suffering

Frankl noted that prisoners reacted differently to the same brutality. Some gave in to despair, others became bitter, while a few kept their dignity and compassion. The difference wasn’t in the circumstances — which were equally harsh for everyone — but in how they responded.

This is where Frankl’s discovery shines:

  • You may not control what happens to you.
  • You may not control how others treat you.
  • You may not control illness, loss, or tragedy.

But you can always control how you choose to respond.

Think about two people who unexpectedly lose their jobs.

  • The first person falls into despair, blames others, and sinks into hopelessness.
  • The second experiences the same pain but chooses to view it as a chance to re-evaluate life, improve skills, or even follow a long-neglected passion.

The event remains the same—losing a job. But the result varies greatly depending on how you respond.

Small Daily Illustrations

This principle is not limited to extreme cases like concentration camps or devastating losses. It applies to our everyday lives.

  • When someone cuts us off in traffic, do we get angry or take a deep breath and keep going?
  • When a family member speaks harshly, should we retaliate right away or pause and respond calmly?
  • When plans fall apart, do we drown in self-pity or see the setback as a lesson?

In each situation, our well-being is influenced more by how we respond than by what actually happens.

An Anecdote of Perspective

A teacher once poured a glass of water halfway and asked the class, “What do you see?” Some said, “Half empty.” Others said, “Half full.” He smiled and said, “Both are correct. But remember, the choice of which one you see determines not just your mood today but also your future tomorrow.”

Frankl’s lesson is the same: we cannot alter the facts, but we can always change how we see and respond to them.

Remember

  1. Response is Power – It is the one area of freedom no one can breach.
  2. Response is Responsibility – With this freedom comes accountability; we can’t always blame circumstances or others.
  3. Response Shapes Character – Each time we select our response, we are shaping who we become.

A Takeaway for Life

The world may take away many things from us. We might face illness, rejection, failure, or even severe injustice. But as long as we are alive, we hold within us the sacred space of choice. That space—our ability to respond—is the source of dignity, resilience, and purpose.

As Frankl understood in the bleakest moments: “They can take everything from me, but they cannot take my response. That remains mine, and mine alone.”

For Reflection:

Recall a recent situation where you reacted impulsively. If you had taken a moment to pause, what different response could you have chosen? How might it have affected the outcome for you and others?

 

یہ مضمون اردو میں پڑھیں

Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs seems a good abstract of how people generally progress in their motives. At the bottom are the basics: food, shelter, safety. Then come the needs for belonging, esteem, and finally self-actualization — the desire to become what one is capable of becoming. The model struck a chord because it felt true to everyday life. We all know how hard it is to think about philosophy when hungry, or to pursue creative goals when worried about survival.

And yet, real life often surprises us.

When Life Breaks the Pyramid

History and ordinary life both tell stories that don’t quite fit the pyramid. A child who offers her candy to a friend who has none. A laborer who shares his meager lunch with a stranger. A soldier who throws himself on a grenade to save his comrades. Or closer to daily experience: a student rushing to an exam but stopping to take an injured person to the hospital.

None of these people had “completed the lower rungs” of Maslow’s ladder before acting. They acted in the moment, beyond themselves, and sometimes at great personal cost. These glimpses remind us that self-transcendence isn’t reserved for the comfortable and secure. It is a possibility seeded in every human heart, ready to appear in unexpected moments.

Viktor Frankl and Meaning in Suffering

Viktor Frankl, the Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, saw this vividly in the concentration camps. In a place stripped of food, safety, and dignity, he still saw prisoners share their last crust of bread, comfort others, or choose to suffer with dignity rather than despair. Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning insists that meaning is not something we wait to reach after other needs are met. It is something we can choose, even in the midst of pain.

This challenges the neatness of the pyramid. If self-transcendence is possible in Auschwitz, then it cannot be locked away at the top of a hierarchy. It is not an “extra.” It is a hidden flame, capable of burning even in the darkest conditions.

Beyond Self-Actualization

Maslow himself later admitted that he had stopped too soon. At first, he thought the summit of human motivation was self-actualization — becoming your best self, your fullest potential. However, in his unfinished writings, he later suggested that beyond self-actualization lies something greater: self-transcendence. The shift is subtle but important. Self-actualization still centers on me — my growth, my potential, my fulfillment. Self-transcendence shifts the center outward — to others, to truth, to causes larger than the self.

In this sense, Frankl’s prisoners were not “self-actualizing.” They were transcending themselves — giving, enduring, hoping — not for themselves alone but for something beyond them.

Relatedness and the Need to Give

Modern motivation theory deepens this picture. Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, in their Self-Determination Theory, showed that human beings have three core psychological needs: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Relatedness — the sense of meaningful connection to others — is not a luxury that comes later, but a need as basic as autonomy or competence.

This explains why even people in hardship often reach out to others. A poor villager feeding a guest, a disaster survivor comforting a neighbor, or even a child handing over candy — all these acts speak to the deep human need to belong and to matter in each other’s lives. In fact, relatedness often fuels the very strength needed to endure deprivation.

Transcendence at Every Stage

Perhaps, then, we need to rethink Maslow’s model. The hierarchy was useful as a map, but life is not always traveled on straight roads. People do not always climb one step at a time. Sometimes they leap beyond themselves even when their own needs remain unmet.

Seen this way, self-transcendence is not the final stage of human growth. It is an ever-present potential. Children, the poor, the sick, the ordinary, and the extraordinary alike — all can show it. And when they do, they remind us that being human is not just about surviving or even thriving, but about giving, relating, and finding meaning beyond ourselves.

A Gentle Reminder

Maslow’s pyramid still helps us understand the arc of human motives. But perhaps the true story of human life is less a ladder and more a landscape, where self-transcendence can appear anywhere — in a hospital corridor, in a schoolyard, in a moment of generosity across a dinner table.

Frankl was right: even in suffering, we remain free to choose our response. And Deci and Ryan remind us that connection itself is a basic need, not an optional extra. Together, these insights suggest that transcendence is not the top of a pyramid but the thread that runs through it all.

It is the quiet possibility that at any moment, even in lack, even in pain, we may rise above ourselves.

Today, I would like to direct the same question to my friends, which I tried to answer for myself in the last post: “Who are you and what is the identity that you have chosen for yourself?”

Conduct an experiment: If you only ask the first part of the question, “who are you?” almost everyone that you meet will answer it by telling you their name or, sometimes, by adding their position or the designation, which they hold in their organization, or by explaining what they do. This clearly points out, on the one hand, that most people – a very large majority – have no sense of identity other than the names that they were given or other than the jobs that they are performing. While, on the other hand, it is an indication that we are, generally, so devoid of a sense of identity that we search for it in such things as our positions, designations, and achievements. However, the problem is that as a being with a conscious, as well as a conscience, we will not be satisfied with an identity given to us by someone else – even if that someone includes our parents, or elders. Neither will we be satisfied with an identity that is likely to change every time our position, work, responsibility, or social status is changed by the circumstances.

Thus, our sense of identity not only gives us stability in our ever changing, unpredictable, and complex world and circumstances, it also gives a meaning to our lives; it provides us the strength to face our share of failures and difficult times in life; it gives us the courage to do what we understand to be right, even when the costs of doing right are high. In a way, it makes us fully human – conscious and conscientious – and connects us to a purpose larger than ourselves.

As a side note, it may be interesting to know that one of the reasons ascribed to the recent increase in the incidence of depression and even suicide – which is indicative of complete hopelessness and despair – is lack of meaning in one’s life. Viktor Frankl’s treatise, ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’ and the subsequent recognition of ‘Logotherapy’ as a branch of Psychology, allows me to say with confidence that striving to find meaning in life is the primary, most powerful motivating driving force in humans.

The idea of a lack of consciously developed identity and a lack of meaning in life reminds me of the large number of students – especially aspiring medical students – who invariably call me in a state of extreme hopelessness and distress, because of their low grades, which are insufficient for pursuing their further studies to become doctors. They clearly sound as if they have lost all sense of identity from their lives. The position and the emotional state of adults is not significantly different, when they are removed from their long-standing, cherished positions.

I do not intend to give the impression that in my opinion, such incidents in life should not be a cause of disturbance and sadness. They most definitely are and probably will continue to be. But, that is life, isn’t it? Things – unpleasant and unwanted – are also going to happen. Having a strong sense of meaning and self-identity will greatly support us in going through the turbulent times of life. This is precisely the message that I have discerned from Viktor Frankl’s ‘Man’s search for Meaning.’

Coming back to the point, I would like you to answer the question “Who are you and what is the identity that you have chosen for yourself?”

Take some time in trying to answer this question. Look past yourself and beyond your immediate needs, desires, and concerns. Look at your surroundings and see what is it that you care enough to contribute to the people around you. Is there any way that you can slightly reduce anyone’s suffering? Is there any thing that you feel moved enough to contribute to those for whom your contribution is of much more value than it costs you? Your identity doesn’t have to be something that challenges the whole world. It can be as humble as making a small difference in a single life – one life at a time. Something that you are moved to contribute as you go through all the ups and downs of your own life. Something that provides you a stable and a permanent identity – at least in your own eyes – irrespective of the changes in your position, responsibility, job, or status.

December 14, 2019
(Lahore, Pakistan)