The Lost World and the Search for the New Barbarians

“Where are the barbarians?” Friedrich Nietzsche asked. My voice echoes his voice like an echo. Yes, where are they, the other barbarians? Because I'm one of them and I'm standing here. Not with a sword, not with fire, but with a dream in hand, a dream that seems as fleeting as the clouds on the horizon. But I cannot and will not let go of him. I'm not going to comply with them. The world is settled: its values are smooth and its thoughts sterile. Yet I am here calling, but no one hears me, nor do they want to see. Everything has a place in this sad world, except the wild and the unformed.

Nihilism and the Birth of Dreamers

The nihilism that Nietzsche spoke of was not just a warning, no, it was the end of the world itself. The values have collapsed like a house of cards. It is not evolution, not the passage of time, but man himself who is to blame for this. Because we have become tired and have lost our fighting spirit. The result is a world that is satisfied with the appearance of something fundamental. Technology replaces curiosity, progress replaces will and everything has a function, but nothing makes sense. And somewhere in the middle of this functional desert are we, the dreamers. We are labelled as useless because we feel too much, we break too easily and we don't want to wear the uniform. Maybe we're the new barbarians. Not because we destroy, but because we don't obey, and that seems to do the most damage of all.

The Silent Invasion of the Void

So the emptiness didn't come with a fanfare. She didn't announce herself with one: “So here I am.” No, it was there suddenly, silently and naturally, and we didn't even notice it. It's too late now. The void has long been distributed among us; it sits in our bodies, it is written in our DNA. We live in a functional world in which everything must be as simple as possible, because every object, even every living being, fulfills a specific function. We are shaped by the idea that we must optimize the world, that human life should become more practical, that everything should work faster and faster. But I get sick on this rollercoaster.

Sisyphos, Our Old Friend

Function is misused as a sense because we can't bear the idea that our existence may have no meaning at all. I'm thinking of the myth of Sisyphos. To that man who was condemned by the gods to roll a stone up the mountain only to see it tumble down again and again, for all eternity. Sisyphos' task was pointless and therefore also functionless. What does it bring him in the end? That's right: Nothing. And yet he did it out of defiance of the gods. He did not want to give them the satisfaction of his defeat, so he carried on, even without a goal and without profit. I am also thinking of Albert Camus, who regarded this myth as an image of human existence: Life is pointless and yet we continue to live simply because we can. We dance on the grave of meaning, not because we believe, but because it makes us happy. Today's technical world acts as if it doesn't know Camus or Sisyphos, and who knows, maybe it really doesn't know them both. She is too determined to make progress. To be dogged to create the greatest invention of the century. And for what? That's right, for an alleged sense. But that sense doesn't exist, and to say otherwise would be a lie.

Technology as a Religion of Progress

Nietzsche once warned against nihilism that would destroy the will of man. But his fear was only a fraction of what really happened: People have not only grown tired, they are living a lie. Technology, and the quest for the meaning it promises, is the new god.

Resistance of Modern Barbarians

In this world, which needs everything, numbers, speed, goals, and doesn't know why, there are bodies that are too soft, souls that dream too slowly and goals that are nothing more than images above the clouds. Perhaps it is they, the resistant, who want to overthrow nihilism, even though it has already happened a long time ago. They recognize the level of difficulty of the task, but they are ready to bring back the human, the wild and the dreamy with their ideas. I call them the modern-day barbarians.

Marginal Figures of the System

The modern barbarians are being cast out. Because the technical world, which has long been plagued by nihilism like an epidemic, has become comfortable and no one wants to give it up. Disturb the barbarians. They remember. They question. So you push them to the sidelines because they are outnumbered. They are called “crazy,” “disturbed,” “sick in the head.” And once again, there is a reversal of values, as Nietzsche once foresaw, an involuntary prophet. The barbarians are the image of the superman: those who have understood what is at stake, what really counts, and who are not afraid of senselessness. The rest though? They're slaves. Slaves who blindly let themselves be driven by a pseudo-sense. They are actually weak, but technology makes them strong. The technology, this pseudo-functionality, acts like weapons in a video game, and the slaves are nothing but characters. Avatars with name tag It is only there in their illusory world that they are strong. Only there, together, as an alliance of the poor. They would never call themselves poor, no, because everything in their world is meaningful: They believe they exist because of the Big Bang, because chance wanted them to. They go to work in the morning because they want to “make a difference.” They buy stocks because wealth is the goal. But the truth they can't hear or don't want to hear is this: It's all a big lie. There has never been any sense. But who would believe the barbarians? They don't fit into the system. They're just a nuisance. They're sick in their heads anyway. And in the race for functionality, there is no space reserved for them.

Usefulness as a Compulsion

Anyone who doesn't want to get up in the morning is depressed. Anyone who shows no ambition is considered to be in need of treatment. Anyone who is too quiet or too sensitive is wrong and doesn't fit in. The world is never questioned, but only the person who breaks down because of it. But it doesn't say “Why does it break?” , but: “That's why it shouldn't break.” And the barbarian with a diagnosis is already sitting in a too bright room and wondering why his eyes are burning.

Because anything that could stop the progress of technology, anything that could pose a threat to robotized humans, is locked up. The goal is not healing, not restoring well-being, but an emergency solution: The barbarians should become functional. Usable and adaptable. This creates a compulsory norm in which individuality and humanity have no place anymore. In the end, it is not whether a person is doing better that counts, but only that things continue.

Simulation, Illusory World and the Hunger for Authenticity

The world hasn't been real for a long time, it's efficient. And that's enough for most people. But not the barbarians. They see that man has lost meaning, and yet the barbarians continue to search for it. All you offer them in return are clicks and devices. All the avatars have long since forgotten that they are living in a simulation, because it is convenient and there are rewards for taking part. Just as God once promised paradise. The barbarians see that the world is burning and that they urgently need help. But their hands are tied and Bluetooth is offered to them as a consolation. It's all gone.

The Last Rebellion

“It's all gone,” I whisper to myself and look at the figure in the mirror. She looks a lot like me, but her eyes are tired and her soul seems empty. I too am starting to get tired, because being a barbarian is exhausting. There are days when I just want to be a part of it. I want to get up in the morning and fit into the system. I see the uniform hanging over my chair and imagine what it would be like to smile when they expect it. I wish my thoughts were simpler, but I can't turn them off and I don't want to because I still believe in the wild. I believe in the dream clouds that I've created myself, with my own values, with my own purpose. Not because I can't stand the senselessness, but because I have the strength to create something, just like Sisyphos. “Where are the barbarians?” Friedrich Nietzsche asked. He doesn't hear my answer anymore, but I say it out: “I'm here.” My legs aren't so tired that they won't support me anymore, and I still have enough strength in my arms to hold my dreams. I have nothing to offer the world, not really; but I'm not giving up. And maybe that's my last form of rebellion: not to shut up. Because even if I lose, I'm a barbarian. And I write that with pride.

Giulia Romina Itin was born near Lucerne in 2007 and is currently studying philosophy and history at the University of Basel. In her texts, she deals with existential and socio-critical questions: meaning and senselessness, rebellion, identity, the dreamy, and resistance to the preformed. Her thinking is shaped primarily by Friedrich Nietzsche and Albert Camus, whose perspectives on freedom, revolt and absurdity sharpen their attention to the fractures of the present day. In addition to studying, Giulia writes poetry and prose so as not to fall silent in a meaningless world. For them, writing means continuing to ask questions where others are silent.

The article image is by the author. She writes: “I photographed it myself in January 2025, somewhere between Madeira and Tenerife on the open sea. I chose this picture because it has the same atmosphere as my text: heavy clouds, light breaks and a sky that threatens and dreams at the same time. These clouds remind me of the 'dream clouds' I'm talking about in the text. The one I created for myself in spite of a world that has lost meaning. The photo shows a reality that is dark but not hopeless, and it is precisely from this motivation that my text exists.”