16. Teleology

You ever trip over absolutely nothing in public, and then try to play it off by pretending you meant to stretch your hamstring mid-stride? That, my friend, is teleology—the human urge to assign purpose to things, especially the embarrassing or unexplainable.

Teleology is the idea that stuff happens for a reason. Not just cause and effect—no, no, that’s too basic. We’re talking goal-driven, destiny-stamped, purpose-infused happenings.

Like, the rain didn’t just fall.

It rained so you could learn patience.

The bread didn’t just go moldy.

It molded so you’d finally start that gluten-free lifestyle.

Your ex didn’t ghost you.

They vanished so you could grow (and spiral a little, but mostly grow).

The World As a Story… With You as the Main Character

Teleological thinking is like putting a movie script over reality. Every leaf that falls, every traffic jam, every missed call—it must mean something.

It’s comforting, right? To believe life isn’t just chaos with a WiFi password, but a carefully curated narrative. One where everything from your heartbreak to your bad haircut is part of a cosmic syllabus called “Your Personal Growth Journey.”

Spoiler alert: sometimes a bad haircut is just a bad haircut.

Evolution: Not a Master Plan, Just Vibes

Teleological arguments often pop up in debates about life and the universe:

• “Look how perfectly Earth is made for life!”
• “Eyes are so complex—clearly, they were designed for seeing!”
• “Bananas fit so well in the hand—God definitely invented ergonomics!”

But evolution doesn’t work backward from a goal. It’s more like a drunk sculptor stumbling across happy accidents and saying, “Hey, that works—let’s keep it.”

Eyes didn’t evolve so we could see. They evolved because seeing stuff was useful. Big difference. One is purpose-driven. The other is just… lucky survival.

Why Do We Do This?

Because we hate randomness. Our brains crave narrative. Give a toddler a bunch of dots and they’ll connect them into a dinosaur. Give an adult a series of coincidences and they’ll turn it into a spiritual awakening.

This is where teleological reasoning bleeds into theology. If things have purpose, there must be a purposer. And boom—enter God, fate, the universe, the ancestors, Mercury in retrograde, or whatever cosmic HR department you prefer.

But here’s the rub: just because something feels meaningful doesn’t mean it was meant.

Purpose or Pattern?

That’s not to say you can’t find meaning in things. You absolutely can and should.

The trick is knowing the difference between:

“This happened to teach me something” (teleology)

vs

“I learned something from this happening” (growth)

See? You’re allowed to find beauty in chaos. You just don’t need to pretend the chaos was choreographed.

In Conclusion (But Not Really)

Teleology is seductive. It tells you there’s a plan, a point, a puppet master behind the scenes.

But sometimes life isn’t a symphony.

It’s just a jam session with no rehearsal and lots of weird solos.

And that’s okay.

You’re allowed to be here, without being part of some master blueprint.

You’re allowed to find your own meaning in the mess.

And you’re definitely allowed to eat bananas without turning them into a theology class.