Okay, so… what if being “the ultimate human” isn’t about perfection — but about becoming someone your past self wouldn’t even recognize (in the best way)?
Enter Nietzsche’s Übermensch. Mysterious, bold, slightly intimidating — kind of like the philosophy version of that one person who actually has their life together.
But what is the Übermensch, really? A superhero? An ego trip? A cosmic self-help idea wrapped in German intensity?
In this post, I’m unpacking Nietzsche’s wildest concept — minus the dusty academic vibe — and asking what it means for those of us just trying to become better humans… or at least slightly more functional ones.
Let’s dive in.
The Madman and the Death of God
“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.” – The Gay Science
When Nietzsche said “God is dead,” he wasn’t just talking about religion or saying, “Yay, no more God!” It was way deeper than that.
Back in the late 1800s, when Nietzsche was writing, society was going through a huge shake-up. Science was booming—think Darwin’s theory of evolution and all the discoveries that made people question old stories they’d always believed.
With the “death of God,” European society faced a profound crisis: the loss of absolute moral and metaphysical certainty. Nietzsche recognized that without God, the values and meaning once taken for granted were unraveling, leaving humanity adrift in what he termed “nihilism”—a state where life appears purposeless and devoid of inherent value.
The result? Confusion. Moral nihilism. A spiritual vacuum.
But Nietzsche didn’t want us to panic. He saw this “death” as a chance. With the collapse of old certainties comes a vacuum—one that he urged us not to fill with nostalgia or escapism, but with creation. He urged:
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Self-responsibility: We must invent our own values now.
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Creative urgency: This vacuum isn’t a void—it’s potential.
In modern terms: with no scripts, no guiding parental figure, no grand narrative, you are the author. The power—and the burden—is yours.
God is dead. And now what? Who is gonna tell us what’s right and what’s wrong?
Master vs. Slave Morality: Competing Value Systems
Okay, so Nietzsche noticed that people don’t all see “good” and “bad” the same way. He argued there are two kinds of morality ( outlined in his 1887 work On the Genealogy of Morality), born from different life experiences:
- Slave morality comes from the oppressed or weak. It values humility, kindness, and patience, seeing these as “good,” and calls the masters’ power “evil.”
- Master morality is the mindset of the powerful, strong, and creative. They call what’s noble and life-affirming “good,” and see weakness as “bad.”
To make this more concrete, think about slave morality like this: it’s the mindset that says, “Being humble, patient, and kind makes you a good person.” Imagine someone who has been overlooked or pushed down in life, so they start valuing qualities like forgiveness, self-sacrifice, and sympathy because these helped them survive tough times. For example, traditional religious teachings often promote slave morality—think of the virtue in “turning the other cheek” or “blessed are the meek.” These values empower the weak by making patience and gentleness honorable.
On the other hand, master morality says, “Being strong, bold, and proud is what’s truly good.” Picture a warrior, an artist, or a leader who sets their own rules and values power, courage, and self-expression. For example, a fearless entrepreneur who takes big risks and isn’t afraid to challenge norms is embracing master morality. They don’t wait for permission to define right and wrong—they create their own values based on their strength and vision.
Nietzsche argued that Western culture, particularly through Christianity, had largely adopted slave morality, promoting values that suppress life’s vigor and spontaneity. He wanted us to question the values we accept. Are they really helping us grow and be our best? Or are they holding us back?
He didn’t say one is right and the other wrong, but he did think master morality was more life-affirming, while slave morality can trap people in resentment and conformity.
This is where the idea of the Higher Man steps in. Nietzsche describes the Higher Man as someone who is stronger, more conscious, and beginning to rise above these traditional moral systems. The Higher Man challenges both master and slave moralities by questioning their rules and values. At the heart of this is self-overcoming—a continuous process of pushing past old beliefs, fears, and limits to grow into a more authentic self.
But—and this is important—Nietzsche’s prophet Zarathustra makes it clear that the Higher Man is not the final stage. The Higher Man never fully becomes the Übermensch (the “overman” or “superman”). The Übermensch is an ideal, a horizon to reach for but never quite arrive at. It’s a constant becoming rather than a fixed being. So, the Higher Man lives in this tension, always striving and transforming but never “done.”
The Will to Power — What Drives Us?
So, once you’ve seen the moral split—what drives us forward?
Nietzsche didn’t think humans were wired just to exist. He believed we are driven by something deeper—the urge to grow, express ourselves, and overcome who we were yesterday.
“What is good? — All that heightens the feeling of power, the will to power, power itself in man.” (The Antichrist)
At the core of Nietzsche’s philosophy lies the concept of the will to power, which he described as the fundamental drive underlying all human behavior and life itself. It is not merely a desire to dominate others, as often misunderstood, but a broader impulse to grow, assert oneself, and creatively overcome challenges.
Nietzsche viewed the will to power as the engine of human development—whether in art, knowledge, or morality. It is the force that propels individuals to transcend themselves, to transform their environment, and to realize their unique potential. Instead of passively accepting given values, the person who embraces the will to power actively shapes their life according to their vision.
This is groundwork for the Übermensch—the one who uses the will to continually become who they could be.
Nietzsche’s Übermensch as a Vision of Human Potential
Here’s the deal – the Übermensch doesn’t exist. Never did and never will. He is just a mere thought experiment.
Nietzsche introduced the Übermensch in Thus Spoke Zarathustra (1883–1885) as an ideal for humanity’s future. The term means “overman” or “beyond-man,” representing a person who transcends conventional morality and the herd mentality.
This figure lives by their own values, embraces challenge and change, and joyfully accepts both suffering and triumph as essential parts of existence.
Only a few people came close to this concept, Goethe and Beethoven being some of them.
The Übermensch is not a prize to be won, a throne to be claimed, or a level you unlock once you’ve done enough inner work. No, Nietzsche’s Übermensch is more like a northern star — brilliant, unreachable, but guiding. It’s the whisper in your chest that says, “There’s more to you yet.” It’s the embodiment of becoming, not being — the constant reshaping of yourself in the face of comfort, fear, and stagnation. Zarathustra knew this. He saw the Higher Men and, even in their greatness, understood: they weren’t it. They were merely echoes of what could be. The Übermensch isn’t a person — it’s a possibility.
And maybe that’s the point. We’re not meant to arrive. We’re meant to keep going.
What are we left with?
The fact that the Übermensch remains out of reach isn’t a failure — it’s the invitation. And that’s where amor fati begins to shine — the radical idea that we don’t just accept our path, but love it. Every setback, every strange twist in our story becomes part of the grand design we learn to embrace — not in spite of its difficulty, but because of it.
Nietzsche believed that the secret to a fulfilling life isn’t just accepting what happens to us, but loving it—even the crappy, painful, embarrassing parts. Sounds crazy? Maybe. But imagine if you stopped fighting against life’s challenges and started embracing them as part of your unique story. This doesn’t mean you have to like everything (no one’s saying you have to enjoy all the crap in your life), but rather to see it all as necessary, shaping who you are and pushing you forward. Instead of wishing for a different past or dreading the future, you say, “This is my life, and I love it.”
But Nietzsche has one final litmus test: the thought experiment of eternal recurrence.
What if you had to live your exact same life over and over—every joy, mistake, and heartbreak—forever? Would you be horrified or inspired? Could you say yes to that?
Eternal recurrence, one of Nietzsche’s most challenging ideas, asks us to imagine living our exact life over and over again, for eternity. It’s a challenge to be intentional, to create a life that’s worth repeating—not because you’ll actually do it, but because it helps you take responsibility for every moment.
Misread, Misused, Misunderstood
It’s impossible to talk about Nietzsche without addressing the elephant in the room: the Nazi myth. Despite Nietzsche’s loud and clear opposition to antisemitism, nationalism, and blind obedience, his philosophy was twisted after his death to serve an agenda he would have rejected.
A big part of this distortion came from his sister, Elisabeth Förster‑Nietzsche. After Nietzsche’s mental collapse in 1889, she took control of his unpublished writings and edited them heavily. She selectively removed Nietzsche’s sharp critiques of antisemitism—for instance, Nietzsche once wrote, “The anti-Semites cannot forgive the Jews for the fact that they have ‘spirit’”—and replaced them with racist, nationalist rhetoric that fit her own views. She even fabricated passages to make Nietzsche appear as a proto-fascist.
These altered texts became a foundation for Nazi ideologues like Alfred Bäumler, who published Nietzsche: The Philosopher and the Politician in 1931, portraying Nietzsche as the intellectual father of Aryan supremacy. Max Oehler, head of the Nietzsche Archive during the Nazi era, also promoted this twisted interpretation. Hitler himself never seriously read Nietzsche but accepted his image as a cultural symbol—there’s a famous story of him receiving a bust of Nietzsche in his private quarters, and Nazi propaganda films like Triumph of the Will used Nietzschean slogans to lend their message false philosophical weight.
But the real Nietzsche? He was no nationalist cheerleader. He described nationalism as “a sickness” and was deeply critical of Germany’s racial arrogance. He admired Jewish culture and thought antisemitism was a destructive herd mentality. His philosophy celebrated the individual’s power to create personal values and to rise above societal norms—not to submit to a totalitarian collective.
Would You Choose This Again?
I’ll leave you with Nietzsche’s ultimate question:
If this life, exactly as you’re living it, would repeat eternally—forever—would you embrace it?
Not is it good?
But *could you love it enough to live it endlessly?
Take a beat.
If the answer is no—what parts would you change?
If the answer is yes—how do you live differently, starting today?
Remember: This isn’t just a philosophy assignment. It’s a deeply personal invitation. A chance to author meaning, in a world that no longer hands it to you.
Becoming the Übermensch isn’t about being “better than someone else.” It’s about choosing—to shape your own world. To own your darkness and your light. And maybe, if you choose, to dance while everything repeats.
No gods. No authorities. Just you, constructing a life that—even if it replays forever—you can joyfully embrace.
So… would you?
Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash
Note: This post focuses solely on Nietzsche’s philosophical teachings — his ideas on morality, the self, and human potential. While his work was later distorted for political purposes, especially by the Nazi regime, those interpretations are not reflective of his actual views and are addressed only to clarify the historical record.
