There is a fine line between will and control. A person may will something to be, desiring that it ‘be the case’ or become reality, but that will is rarely paired with control.

As much as I would like—or will—my sibling to not eat the last slice of pizza in the fridge, I cannot control my sibling’s thoughts or actions.

Control and persuasion are not synonymous, so no matter the multitude and length of the reasons I pose to them as to why they shouldn’t eat that last slice of pizza, their thoughts and actions are beyond my control. I can attempt to influence the outcome, redirect their attention, or move their hand somehow.

Yet this is not a binary situation between A and B, because there could be other parties, entities, or influences involved that are beyond my knowledge or perception. Nevertheless, the outcome of this situation is not mine alone, nor do I have sole control over it.

It is their choice to make, not mine. Their action to carry out, not mine. The situation is not mine—not alone.

The consumption and subsequent loss of that pizza slice is of little consequence to my life. But consider this tension, this lack of control despite the deepest desires of our hearts, concerning situations in which there is far more on the line than a slice of pizza.

---

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre posits the concept of anguish to address this dilemma between human will and the desire to control. To Sartre, anguish is the belief that individuals are solely responsible for their own actions and no one else’s, bearing this weight by their very nature as human beings who have both autonomy and individuality.

Individual actions by individual persons nonetheless directly affect things around them. Every human—alongside everything in existence—is not only interconnected but influences each other in one way or another. We do not exist in sedentary, isolated bubbles, but in an immense body of water in which a single droplet causes a ripple and change in density long after its visible impact has been long forgotten.

It is this relationality and causality that lies at the heart of anguish. This weight is persistent in the sense that this reality is utterly inescapable by any living human as it is an inevitability of existence, and insistent in that such responsibility permeates all of our actions and decisions to the point that we are often thrust into reflection—if not stress—by the knowledge of this responsibility.

---

Hand-in-hand with Sartre’s concept of anguish is that of despair—stated by him to be the assertion that humans have control only of their own will and actions, and not those of others.

In the same vein lies forlornness, the state of solitude or being alone. For Sartre, the fear and uncertainty which derive from this solitude are rooted in the recognition that we as individuals are the only ones that have to testify to our own actions. In other words, we are responsible for our own actions, since our capacity for acting, thinking, and willing is but our own.

Because we ultimately only have a say in our own actions and decisions, we should not incessantly preoccupy ourselves with the actions and decisions of others—both in the sense of desiring control and pondering the vast possibilities of their actions.

To allow oneself to be absorbed in pondering possibility, becoming prisoner to anguish and despair at their worst, is not only futile but unproductive and debilitating. It causes us to spiral downward into a pit of hypotheticals and parentheticals, leading to nothing but inaction and distraction.

---

We cannot be certain of other’s actions and wills since they are beyond our purview and control. We can only be certain of ourselves, but even that supposed personal certainty is never absolute and therefore never truly certain.

That we only have control our own actions should not be saddening but empowering. We must recognize the true potential and capacity we inherently possess as individuals, grounded in our autonomy and individuality. We can never be perfect, just as no situation or subsequent outcome can always—if ever—be perfect, and we must never try to be.

But we can strive to be good, knowing that we have tried our best to do right by our fellow human and all of creation to the best of our ability. This responsibility to all that exists is not a light one, but must be held to the highest regard and be ever close to our hearts. We must not try to control others, but to lead them and ourselves to the fullness of goodness as rooted in the values of justice, sensitivity, compassion, mercy, community, and collaboration.

May the knowledge that it is by our words and actions that we can make a difference in our world be a source of hope and joy, not anguish and despair.