Presentism is the idea that this moment is the only thing that exists. There’s no past or future. Time is like a stationary blob that changes shape but doesn’t go anywhere. It’s like a frame on a roll of film. The movie only seems seamless; it’s really a movement of stills.
By Johnathon Lee
“Be here now,” is a famous saying by Ram Dass and countless gurus.
It’s been endorsed by everyone from Buddhists and New Age life coaches to Charles Manson. It’s definitely practical. Focusing on the here and now can get us out of our heads and ease our racing hearts. The present can also be a measuring stick we use to judge our beliefs and get our bearings in an increasingly noisy, confusing world.
Then we get into the metaphysics, and that’s where it falls apart.
Presentism is the idea that this moment is the only thing that exists. There’s no past or future. Time is like a stationary blob that changes shape but doesn’t go anywhere. It’s like a frame on a roll of film. The movie only seems seamless; it’s really a movement of stills.
Most of us use this as a means to mysticism. If there’s only this moment, this eternal present, then all is one. This insight can elevate us beyond fragmented existence into a transcendent truth that frees us from suffering.
Yet there’s another logical step that we usually avoid: if there’s only the present, then life is meaningless.
If the absolute truth is out of this world, then all worldly truths are meaningless. Life becomes a passing dream that ends with rebirth or a dissolving into incomprehensible, infinite oneness.
It’s the past and future that give the present meaning. Without pasts, we’re like mountains—cold and unmoving. With pasts, we’re water rushing through canyons. This moment of your life is a necessary expression of all the hours and seconds before it. You’re the embodiment of history, one self in a long line of selves, all of them merging together here and now.
Beyond that, your history is the extension of all history, of world and cosmic history. We can trace our origin story back to the Big Bang and each chapter is present right here, right where you are.
Without a future, what point is there to doing anything but passing time? Goals would be spontaneous flights of fancy, and it’d be foolish to stress about bills, promotions, dreams or degrees. Just let it all go; let civilization go. Everything’s perfect as-is.
So, why not give yourself permission to flake on all of your responsibilities? Duty is an illusion, after all, and bettering yourself is a foolish waste of a tranquil oblivion.
Or, we could see the future as a sea of possibilities with the present being the point where was and will be meet.
This moment is a collapsing of could be into is. This can give you a sense of giddy, intimidating and mysterious potential. Much of what will be is out of your control, but history can offer clues about what’s to come. This can help you figure out what to do.
The presentism of a lot of contemplative traditions uses myths like absolute truth to cover up their latent nihilism. We lose that luxury if we are realists. At best, we can say, “I don’t know,” and see those big ideas as a pragmatic way to create meaning in a meaningless world.
Fortunately, presentism is unrealistic in itself. Most physicists are eternalists; they believe that the past, present and future all simultaneously exist, just like how all of the frames on a roll of film exist. Experiments with photons and electrons back this up. Philosophically, past and future have to exist for anything to exist. The present was caused by the past and causes the future.
No past and future means no cause and effect.
So, this is one of those rare occasions where I’m willing to say, “You’re wrong,” to someone. Presentism is factually and ethically wrong, and its wrongness goes beyond religion.
Studies show that presentism is the default view in modern life and that’s one factor in the nihilism epidemic.
Some thinkers have compared it to a collective amnesia where whole civilizations are detaching from their pasts as people focus on the here and now. This creates a sense of groundlessness, boredom and disorientation that we ease with shallow pleasures, vicarious achievements, and reactive fanaticism. Worst of all, it makes us repeat ourselves with societies replaying the same events over and over and getting the same results.
Ironically, we could say that samsara is caused by living in the present, detached from the rest of space and time.
That said, I’m not attacking Buddhism here. Presentism runs rampant in it, but it’s seldom mentioned at all in the Suttas and Sutras. Huayan took an almost quantum view of spacetime, and even Dogen wrote about how the past, present and future flow into each other. Presentism only takes center stage in certain Chan schools, who were influenced by Daoism.
My point is that you don’t have to be a presentist to be Buddhist.
Buddhism isn’t present or eternalist; it’s diverse. If your current Buddhist path isn’t helping you with the meaning-crisis, there’s nothing wrong with looking to other schools and scriptures for differing views as this wandering and mixing defines Buddhist history. It defines human history, and it’s through history that we can find ourselves.
Being human isn’t about escaping our pasts, but placing them into our present humanity.
Photo: Pixabay
Editor: Dana Gornall
Did you like this post? You might also like:
Comments
- How the Walk for Peace Brought Me Back to Buddhism - February 11, 2026
- The Path of Emptiness - December 12, 2025
- There is No Hope in Buddhism (or is there?) - November 25, 2025
