Any framework that aims to explain fundamental aspects of human experience must be able to face its strongest objections. The perspective presented in this letter — that we are, at our core, beings who exist through feeling — is no exception. In this section, we will examine the most relevant objections and explore the limitations of this approach.

Objection 1: What About Altruistic Sacrifice?

One of the most common objections is: “What about people who sacrifice their own happiness — or even their lives — for abstract principles or for the well-being of others? Doesn’t that contradict the idea that we act fundamentally in order to feel?”

This is a serious objection and deserves a careful answer. Consider soldiers who sacrifice themselves for their comrades, activists who risk their lives for social justice, or parents who endure extreme hardship to provide a better future for their children. But look more closely at what motivates these sacrifices. When someone risks their life to save another, what moves them is not an abstract calculation about the value of human life. It is an immediate emotional response — empathy, love, responsibility — experienced as a felt imperative.

The moral philosopher Adam Smith, in The Theory of Moral Sentiments, argued that even our most altruistic impulses are rooted in our capacity for sympathy — our ability to feel with others. When we see someone in danger, we do not coldly calculate costs and benefits; we feel their pain as if it were our own. This does not diminish the moral value of such acts. On the contrary, it suggests that our deepest moral expressions arise precisely from our capacity to feel — including our capacity to feel the experience of others.

Objection 2: What About Kantian Ethics?

Immanuel Kant famously argued that moral actions should be grounded in duty, not inclination or feeling. His categorical imperative proposes that we should act only according to principles we would will to become universal laws. Yet even Kant acknowledged that a truly moral action must arise from good will. And what is good will, if not an orientation of the inner self — a way of feeling toward others and toward moral order? More importantly, why would someone feel compelled to follow the categorical imperative at all? Because there is something in human nature that responds positively to the idea of moral universality, to treating others as ends rather than means. That response is not purely logical — it is experiential. It feels right.

Even duty, when examined closely, is sustained by a felt sense of moral coherence.

Objection 3: What About Stoicism?

Stoic philosophers argued that true happiness comes from reason, not emotion. They advocated indifference to external circumstances and inner peace through rational acceptance. But look more carefully at what the Stoics were actually proposing. When Marcus Aurelius wrote about accepting what cannot be changed, he was not advocating emotional numbness. He was proposing a wiser relationship with emotional experience. The ataraxia (tranquility) sought by the Stoics is not the absence of feeling, but a refined way of feeling — one that is less reactive, less enslaved by external conditions. It is not the denial of emotion, but its transformation.

Objection 4: What About People with Neurological Conditions?

Some individuals are born with neurological conditions that affect how they experience emotion. Certain forms of autism may involve challenges with emotional empathy. Severe depression can reduce the capacity for pleasure. This does not invalidate the perspective presented here, but it reminds us that there is immense diversity in how humans experience the world. The capacity to feel may be universal, but the forms of feeling vary widely.
Moreover, individuals with these conditions often develop alternative emotional navigational systems. Some autistic individuals exhibit highly developed cognitive empathy, even if emotional empathy differs. People with depression may find meaning through structure, creativity, or connection rather than pleasure.

Feeling does not disappear — it changes form.

Objection 5: What About Non-Western Cultures?

This framework may appear overly focused on individual experience, reflecting Western values. Many non-Western cultures emphasize collective duty, family obligation, or social harmony, sometimes minimizing individual expression. But look more closely. Even in deeply collectivist societies, people are motivated by how they feel in relation to the group, the family, the community. The difference is not the importance of feeling, but its orientation — some cultures prioritize individual feeling, others collective feeling. In fact, many Eastern traditions have developed profound insights into subjective experience. Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism — all offer sophisticated systems for observing, regulating, and transforming inner experience.

Far from contradicting this framework, they reinforce it.

Objection 6: What Happens with Feeling When We Are Dreaming or Under Anesthesia?

Another important question arises: what happens to feeling in states like dreaming or when we are under anesthesia? Do these experiences challenge the idea that feeling is the core of human existence?

Let’s consider dreaming first. Dreaming is now understood not as a random or meaningless event, but as a natural state of consciousness that occurs during sleep — especially during the REM stage, when brain activity is intense and similar to waking states. In REM sleep, the brain generates rich, vivid experiences completely disconnected from external sensory input, yet the dreamer feels within the dream as if it were real. This indicates that consciousness and subjective experience can occur without direct interaction with the external world, independent of immediate sensory perception.
Dream experiences are not merely fragments of memory; they can include strong emotions — joy, fear, sadness, wonder — and even lucid awareness, where the dreamer knows they are dreaming. This demonstrates that feeling remains central even when the body is at rest and disconnected from external stimuli.

Now consider anesthesia — a medically induced state commonly assumed to eliminate consciousness. Recent research shows that anesthesia is more complex than simple “loss of consciousness.” While a person under anesthesia appears unresponsive to the environment, internal experiences — including dream-like consciousness — can still occur. Studies have found that a significant number of patients report dreaming during anesthesia, especially with drugs like propofol, and these dreams can be pleasant or emotionally vivid despite the absence of external awareness. In these states, the brain may remain active in ways that generate internal experiences disconnected from the environment. Consciousness can detach from responsiveness — meaning the body does not react outwardly, but the inner world may still host subjective experience. In other cases, anesthesia can suppress external responsiveness while internal neural networks continue producing patterns akin to dreaming or imagination.

What emerges from this scientific evidence is critical: feeling does not disappear simply because external awareness or responsiveness is reduced. Whether dreaming during sleep or under anesthesia, the subjective experience — the inner feeling dimension — can persist even when the body is still or disconnected from the outside world.

Far from contradicting, these phenomena reinforce it: feeling is fundamental to consciousness itself, not merely a byproduct of external interaction.