10. Nietzsche's Will to Power in nature

What is power? Is it dominance over others, or something deeper—an intrinsic force woven into the very fabric of life itself? Nietzsche famously declared that “life as such is will to power.” But what does that really mean?

In this episode, we explore power beyond human ambition, tracing its organic expressions in nature, biology, and physiology. From the survival struggles of animals to the hedonic escalation that drives human motivation, power is not just about control—it’s about growth, transformation, and the relentless push of life itself.

This week, we dissect:

🔥 How power manifests beyond human psychology—in the very mechanics of life.

🔍 The instinctive drives behind survival, reproduction, and expansion.

🐅 Why competition, consumption, and even symbiosis are all expressions of power in a ruthless power economy.

⚡ What power actually is: Powerful to whom? Powerful, why?

We will also reveal one of Nietzsche’s most surprising claims that will unveil something crucial to understanding the nature of the driving force of life: the world as will to power and nothing else.

Join us as we break down the fundamental dynamic of existence itself!

Music: Rausch 5 by Gas

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Transcript

Good morning. It’s pretty early and I’m out in the woods. It’s March 20th, the spring equinox, though that will be yesterday for you. If you’re in the southern hemisphere, yesterday will have been the autumn equinox.

Back in episode 7, I recommended marking the seasons, a good way of connecting with something that transcends our quotidian concerns, our concerns about the uncertainty of the world right now. Even though nature is under assault and seems to be losing with the loss of habit, be assured nature always wins in the end. Humanity, so certain of its importance, is a blip. This planet has been effectively sterilised multiple times and each time nature starts again - carte blanche. There’s something comforting in is irrepressibility. 

So as spring is the season of Dionysus, connect with it. You can do this of course by just getting out in nature. But look out for the flush of growth that burgeons at this time of year. The shoots and the buds. Vegetation almost pushing itself into existence - try to see that, try to see the push. As the season progresses, if you try to discern it, you will almost be able to see vegetation tumbling over itself all over the place—in slow motion. If you are in the summer hemisphere, you might be able to see something similar with fungi, which frequently thrive in the damp conditions of autumn. 

Among other things, Dionysus is the god of vegetation. Diminishing in autumn and waking up in spring. Just like the seasonal cycle, he dies and he rises again - remind you of anyone?

Dionysus is, famously if the god of wine, so you might take a little wine with you into the woods to enjoy. Just a little. Being able to enjoy an experience and let it pass without chasing the pleasure is important too. Feel that little bit of disappointment when a good thing comes to an end, engage with it - remember, as we’ve discussed, suffering is an essential constituent of pleasure. Don’t flee these little sufferings. 

To mark spring, have a special supper, cooking something seasonal, or better yet something foraged. The wild garlic is just coming up here - good for soup, pesto, and salad too, especially the frothy white flowers, but they won’t appear until June time. Nettles too are actually delicious and piping up all over the place right now. People who haven’t had nettles tend to be horrified by the thought but they are far tastier than spinach and better for you, I understand.

Light a candle with your dinner, if this is something you don’t do ordinarily. Just something to make things a little different.

What’s the point of all this? Is it just a pagan-flavoured nice thing to do? Well, yes, it’s that, and in fact there’s good evidence that connecting with nature is good for mental health, but its also a gentle rehearsal for forging a more profound connection with the non-human world; a breaking through and an epiphanic expansion of consciousness that dissipates that desperate, sad, and lonely predicament the civilised human animal has condemned itself too - one of its most defining characteristics: the feeling of alienation. 

Alienation from nature,

Alienation from the world, 

Alienation from other people, 

Alienation from its own self. 

Introduction:

Welcome to the proudly ai free BU podcast.

I raise ai because its been on my mind this week. There’s been a couple of minor swipes at the show for using ai. In at least one case, this was directed at the introduction, which is actually voiced by my girlfriend, Kelly. I note with interest that people are disparaging of the value of ai productions and I don’t disagree, in fact. I think we see the scarcity principle at work here, with people devaluing that which can be produced so easily.

Admittedly, Kelly does speak perfect English, but  she is not digital and after 19 years together I can vouch for her existence as an organic being.

Which bring us nicely onto our discussion this week: power and the natural world

I did say last week that we would talk about N’s new hierarchy of needs based on the will to power, but in fact, that will be next time because there’s more to say on this week’s topic that I have bargained for. will to power in the organic. It’s necessary to tackle this stuff before moving on to the hierarchy. That’s why this week’s show is called ‘Nietzsche’s will to power in nature”

In BGE 13, Nietzsche claimed that “life as such is will to power” so let’s explore how will to power manifests itself in the biological realm and let’s really dissect that all important concept: the one things we all strive for in Nietzsche view: power. 

But first a recap from last week:

will to power as a psychological phenomenon in humans is not merely about dominance over others but is the drive to overcome resistance, grow, and achieve mastery. It is deeper than just a psychological impulse; Nietzsche posits it as an observable principle of existence itself. Human motivation is structured around wanting things, striving for them, and experiencing the satisfaction of getting them, but satisfaction is fleeting, pushing us to seek ever-greater challenges. The harder the resistance, the greater the pleasure of overcoming it (that’s our resistance-reward principle).

Unfortunately, success loses its thrill over time (so-called hedonic adaptation) and requires and endless succession of goals of increasing difficulty to maintain ever-increasing fulfilment (hedonic escalation)—at least if a human is to be as fulfilled as possible. So not only is the highest kind of fulfilment not free of suffering, it actually depends of suffering for its very possibility! For Nietzsche, this means we need a new more healthy orientation to suffering; one that sees that it can be a positive force for life. To reject struggle is to reject life itself—Nietzsche condemns nihilistic attitudes that wish to escape the world simply because it contains pain. 

As he writes in BGE 225 “whatever of depth, mystery, mask, spirit, cunning and greatness has been bestowed upon it – has it not been bestowed through suffering, through the discipline of great suffering?” And in TI 9.4, “all becoming and growth, everything that guarantees the future involves pain” No pain, no gain as I guess is written on the wall of pretty much every gymnasium in the world. 

That reminds me, I heard the other day that there’s some good evidence that pain that is wilfully chosen hurts less than the same pain that is imposed upon you without your agreement, and that makes perfect sense, of course. One good reason to take a more positive approach to suffering. We’ll do a show on suffering at some point because Nietzsche had a great deal to say about it.

Now, bear in mind, that this description of will to power as the pursuit of a succession of ever more challenging goals is an “all things being equal” dynamic. Real life is more complicated, with humans having lots of different goals all at the same time, often goals that directly conflict with one another (and more on that in later shows), as well as external imperatives and contingencies imposing themselves and further muddying the waters around the expression of this essential psychological dynamic—the dynamic of human psychological will to power. 

Last time we noted also, that though psychological will to power evolved because it contributed to survival-for-reproduction, like all instincts it is blind, and so does not aim at survival for reproduction, it’s only activity is its own relentless expression. Just like your sex drive which evolved for reproduction, and over millions of years has reliably resulted in reproduction but does not actually aim at reproduction. Your sex-drive just aims at fulfilment of its own impulse—even protected sex, even masturbation can suffice to mollify its demands. 

Similarly, your hunger drive which evolved because it ensures nourishment which supports survival for reproduction, but does not aim at nourishment. Your hunger only seeks the pleasure of eating tasty food and the amelioration of unpleasant hunger sensations. 

This is a crucial point and it bears repeating: instincts are not purposive, not teleological, they don’t aim at goals. It is only the conscious thinking that we bring to bear in response to their demands that introduces concrete goals as employs abstract reasoning as the means of figuring out ways to fulfil those goals in response to the nagging demands of the instincts. 

So our conscious goals are proxies for deeper unconscious instinctive desires—desires that always exist only because they evolved to serve survival-for-reproduction—but, I stress again, they don’t aim at it. Confused? I hope not. Stick with it and listen again if necessary—your investment will be richly rewarded.

So knowing that we are the puppets of our will to power, I suggested that managing its non-specific demands is prudent. So how do we manage this irrepressible will to power drive? Well, using our will to power of course. The most refined and exalted expression of will to power is in commanding one’s self and to quote Nietzsche again. “He who cannot obey himself will be commanded”. That’s from Z.the chapter Of self overcoming.

So we’ve talked about will to power in human psychology. Let’s now talk about that broader scope of will to power, the organic. How does will to power manifest itself biologically in all living things. It is pretty easy to observe it in human psychology. It’s something we feel and experience steering our behaviour towards overcoming resistances; motivating a range conscious desires. But what about our more ‘animal desires’. The motivated desires that are more specific and practical and do not seem to have to involve the pleasure of overcoming resistance for its own sake—the kind of desires that all complex animals share. 

In non-human animals, there seems to be little evidence of our kind of psychological will to power that compels them to overcome resistances purely for the satisfaction of doing so. I’ll go out on a limb and wager your dog isn’t into base-jumping or any other adrenaline sports? And I bet your cat doesn’t have an ambition to be CEO of a Fortune 500 company?

The instincts we share with other animals for things like eating, mating, personal hygiene, emotional bonding with offspring, and hostility to intruders don’t seem to require a will to power meta-drive. For example, eating food when we are hungry is its own pleasurable reward—we don’t need an extra hedonic incentive on top that makes us feel good just for obtaining something to eat. 

On the other hand, denying ourselves food when we are hungry, say, because we are on a diet or a religious fast, is an expression for psychological will to power because we are privileging the satisfaction of overcoming resistance, whether it be for health reasons or religious reasons. In this case we are battling our compulsion to eat, over the pleasure we would get from eating. We want two conflicting things in such a case, to eat and to not eat. And which one we choose will tell us which desire was strongest in the end. 

We don’t see animals dieting or denying themselves food just for the sake of exercising their self-control and that’s because they don’t really have psychological will to power like we do. It’s an almost uniquely human trait and Nietzsche has a plausible account to explain why this is the case. 

Now as we’ve said, these instinctive, animal behaviours support (and indeed evolved for) survival-for-reproduction, but if everything organic is will to power, as Nietzsche claims, how can they be understood as its manifestations? 

Nietzsche states that we should: “resist all sentimental weakness: life itself is essentially appropriation, injury, overpowering of the strange and weaker, suppression, severity, imposition of one's own forms, incorporation and, at the least and mildest, exploitation.” BGE 259

Well, the axiomatic imperative for life itself that provides the grounding of all instinct is survival for reproduction, so let’s see how that relates to will to power as Nietzsche outlines it. 

To begin with, survival is obviously the precondition for reproduction—you’re not going to sire any offspring if you don’t exist. Surviving means to endure, to keep existing, to persist. To continue to exist isn’t a passive deal, it generally requires a lot of work. To exist and persist is the most basic form of power, and the precondition for all other varieties of power. For living organisms, existence requires meeting certain critical conditions. Chief among these is obtaining sufficient nourishment. For all animal life, this nourishment must come from consuming the bodies of other living things. Organic matter, whether its animal or vegetable, is ground-up, ingested, and incorporated to maintain and develop the animal’s structures and fuel the activities of life. Because resources are finite, securing nourishment frequently involves competition—one must outpace, outmanoeuvre, or sometimes overwhelm others vying for the same resources.  

These are clear expressions of power. The cheetah that successfully chases down and kills a gazelle demonstrates its power over its unfortunate prey. The act of devouring the gazelle, of breaking down its tissues and repurposing them is the appropriation of its power. The meat is fuel which is energy which is power. A cheetah that constantly fails in the chase is weak and will get weaker. 

If you think about it, even seemingly passive activities such as rest and sleep concern power, its conservation and its regeneration; or take personal hygiene, almost all animals groom themselves: this is an impulse that serves health, getting rid of harmful parasites and dead skin that could harbour infections—and what is health but power?

Once food is procured and a spell of continued survival safeguarded, reproduction becomes the next imperative. This also tends to embroil organisms in competition—this time for mates. Reproductive rights must be fought for. Territories must be won and held, displays of fitness performed to attract partners. Here again, we see power. 

And how about that competitive race in which only a single sperm from among billions gets to fertilise the egg; and the extraordinary creative power of biology, transforming a single cell into the intricate bodies of offspring. 

Following reproduction, once a brood of young has been produced, organisms may need to feed, protect, and nurture their young to ensure they reach independence and have a fighting chance of reproducing themselves and passing on their inherited genes. We cosseted humans forget too easily: this is a race for life and the devil take the hindmost! Growth itself—whether of an individual, an offspring, a colony, or an expanding genetic lineage—is an expression of power. 

This dynamic is not limited to animals. Plants engage in their own power struggles as becomes only too apparent when we see speeded-up footage of a rainforest and the continual wrestling that transpires at a pace so slow it is normally invisible to us. A tree that grows taller than its neighbours monopolises sunlight and starves its competitors below. Roots do battle underground, snaking through the soil to capture water and nutrients. Even fungi exhibit behaviour that can be identified as power in expression. Mycelial networks infiltrate and decompose organic matter, transforming entire ecosystems to their advantage. What about that parasitic fungus, Ophiocordyceps, that can manipulate its host’s behaviour for its reproductive benefit? It can infect an insect and make of it a slave that sacrifices its own life to complete the fungus’s reproductive cycle—this too is as much an expression of power as is the predator hunting on the Savannah.

Asexual species are not exempt from these struggles. Without the competition for mates, their productive power expresses itself directly in their ability to replicate prolifically. Single-celled organisms like bacteria divide themselves, processing environmental resources to reproduce as much as conditions allow. In this capacity for replication, growth, and domination of ecological niches, we see a form of power—the unrelenting, animating drive for persistence, replication, colonisation, and expansion. Ask yourself, all things being equal, does an organism seek resources in order to reproduce, or does it reproduce as much as the available resources will allow? Which strategy is likely to prevail in evolutionary terms? 

Even symbiotic relationships, often painted in the most harmonious hues, are expressions of power struggles—a strategic equilibrium where organisms trade resources or services to maximise their own fitness. Mycorrhizal fungi, for instance, colonise plant roots, extracting sugars in exchange for nutrients. Similarly, the near-eradication of gut worms in humans has been linked to rising allergy rates, suggesting that these parasites once exacted a tithe from our food while offering protection against harmful compounds. Whether or not this theory holds, it nicely illustrates how symbiotic relationships evolve through necessity, with organisms adapting to one another until they may become mutually indispensable—the other becoming a fact of the environment within which means of survival must be secured. But it is a stretch to call this power-equivalence a partnership. Does anyone want to invite their gut worms back? Yet, it seems we sometimes need our enemies.

In like fashion, you cannot live without your gut biome, those teeming micro-organisms essential to our digestion, but that same biome would start digesting you if its ambition were not constrained. Such relationships exemplify power in mutual dependency—a productive stand-off where each holds the other in check and both benefit. In some unfortunate people the digestive system’s protective system fails and their gut biome’s do break out and start digesting their host. Here we see how a natural expression of directedness towards power can actually endanger organisms themselves. This happens because the constraints within which their impulses evolved have been removed and, as I continue to stress, their directedness towards power is not purposive; it is merely compelled to express itself. In this case, the productive equilibrium between the host and the biome has been catastrophically interrupted, and so the biome kills its host and thereby dooms itself. It’s a Mexican standoff where if one of the gunslingers fires, they all end up dead. And yet, we love to romanticise these “friendly bacteria”. Does anyone really imagine symbiotic relationships are underpinned by ‘good will’—an altruistic regard for the other party? To think so is to anthropomorphise nature, impressing our fondness for agreeableness onto a world where brute necessity, not benevolence, governs coexistence.

You might counter that I am just as guilty of this too. Aren’t my descriptions of the behaviour of animals, plants, and fungi just as anthropomorphic? Does a tree really express power when it grows? Does a herd of zebras or a colony of bacteria when it multiplies? In answer to this accusation that the designation of these things as examples power is anthropocentric, I answer, yes, you’re absolutely right. It is. 

I will go so far as to claim that all descriptions of power phenomena are anthropocentric. The difference is that when we infer goodwill in symbiotic relationships, we are psychologising about the motives of organisms. When I point to power expressions in the organic, I am merely describing observable physical phenomena using a human abstract concept. Power isn’t something in the world, it’s a description of the character of particular objects or events from our perspective. Concepts tell us more about us humans than they do about the world. So when people talk of symbiosis as cooperation, with that implicit suggestion of mutual good will, they are inferring motives. To make attributions of power is merely to describe.

Motive doesn’t come into it. Does a tree seek power? Not really—at least not in any way we would recognise, but does power require intentionality, purposiveness? No. We’ve already said that will to power is not goal oriented. It merely does what it does. So we may be able to describe all sorts of unconscious, and perhaps even inorganic processes, as expressions of power. You’ve witnessed a thunderstorm before that can be quite legitimately called powerful. Is there are motive there? Does the storm have purpose? Of course not. So a tree can be seen to express power even though there is no intentionality in it—at least not in any way we would normally recognise. 

This raises questions about our definition of power and I’ll return in a moment.

Returning to humans: you are the product of the power of your parents. Their survival into reproductive maturity, their ability to secure resources, attract a mate, and successfully raise you to adulthood—all are expressions of their power. In contemporary human societies, the challenge of reproducing and raising offspring may be an unremarkable achievement, supported as it is by systems of collective power. Yet even this is a manifestation of will to power: the power of our societies to mitigate infant mortality and provide for the development of their members—growing the society, and promoting its health and vitality. A society that loses most of its children to malnutrition or disease would be considered not powerful, but weak.

On these terms, the so-called circle of life is a ruthless power economy. Birdsong is the most charming music, but it is also a warning. Fruit is a delicious treat but it is also a bribe. Flowers are pretty but they lie. Sexual desire is pure sensual, intoxication but it is also a trap. Symbiosis is a temporary equilibrium (everything is temporary) in what is otherwise the “bellum omnium contra omnes”, the war of all against all. To live is to seek power and to express it, not merely to persist but to expand, transform, impose, dominate, and overcome in the pursuit of more power. If this sounds bleak, don’t worry. We’ll fix that in later shows. The world may be a meat-grinder, but it’s also a beautiful garden. And the beautiful garden is a meat grinder, and the meat grinder is a beautiful garden, and you cannot have the one without the other and, in fact, they are the exact same thing. Imagine.

For living things, to survive, defend, compete, flourish, reproduce, grow, expand, and exploit is to express will to power. This dynamic is structural, morphological, physiological, and behavioural. Nature doesn’t consciously make bids for power—only humans really do that with their singular, freakishly bloated consciousnesses. The herd increasing in size is will to power—but the herd doesn’t consciously seek to increase its size. The tree reaching for the sun is will to power—but the tree doesn’t consciously reach for the sun; a tree isn’t conscious. The tiger hunting the boar is will to power—but the tiger doesn’t consciously hunt in order to nourish itself. It hunts because it has an evolved urge to do so. This is why domestic cats kill small creatures even when they are well fed—the drive to hunt and the drive to feed dovetail nicely, having evolved together, but they are separable instinctive drives that seek expression independently. 

Now beware, don’t be fooled by this talk of will to power as if it is some sort of thing, some kind of mysterious invisible force operating in the organic. It isn’t. Many get tripped up thinking of will to power as some kind of vitalistic force. will to power is instead just the way things work together in the organic world—and perhaps beyond.

We’ll take a closer look at power after this important message

But perhaps you feel I have been playing fast and lose with the definition of power here? Defining power is more tricky than it at first appears. Consult a few dictionaries and you will find that power is defined in ways that are not at odds with the examples above. Their consensus is that power is energy; it’s the ability, capacity, or potential do do some work or have some effect. Power is the ability to do stuff, to exert control; to be able to get what you want and need. 

What dictionaries generally overlook is that its meaning might best be found in the perceiving subject rather than in perceived phenomena. Power, like beauty (a not unrelated concept), is “in the eye of the beholder”. Power is identified by its effects on us. It is a kind of value judgement. That which imposes, inspires, thrills, endangers, frightens, compels, evokes awe, seizes control—that which we want for ourselves is power. A terrifying storm, a pungent scent, a muscular body, a concussing blow, a rousing speech, a captivating work of art: these experiences are powerful because they press themselves into our reality, whether we want them to or not. 

Power is relational; power is simply a quality of any cause that has significant effects. The more its effects intrude, the greater we deem the power to be. But every cause produces effects—is its effects—and so all effect is power, to a degree contingent on the evaluation of the perceiver. The most basic form of power then it is to exist; all other power-expressions require this precondition. Whether it be a cultural meme, a species, a nation, a galaxy, or a law of physics: surviving, enduring, adapting, outcompeting, having effects, existing and persisting, is to instantiate power. It is to be the boxer still standing when the current round [Excision: The world as you experience it right now is a temporary iteration that has prevailed over all previous iterations, whether from a minute or a million years ago. Everything in your world, including yourself, is also a temporarily prevailing iteration. Power isn’t in the world, it is our evaluative interpretation of phenomena; the most imposing phenomena we deem the most powerful, but of course the whole world imposes itself upon us continually in incalculable, subtle and not-so-subtle ways.]  ends. 

Power is growth, expansion, and development, and of course that is exactly what we see in the organic world, not just through reproduction, but colonisation, diversification, appropriation, and increasing morphological complexity.

Who decides what is and isn’t powerful? We do. What makes it powerful? The intensity of its effects on us. Power is in the eye of the beholder. The powerful cannot be ignored. That which goes ignored is not powerful.

Now, you might concede that the growth of a tree could be described as an expression of power but, as it not conscious, its activity could hardly be described as will to power—a tree does not will. The same with most organic life, the same with our thunderstorm and all such natural phenomena.

Well, we’ve analysed Nietzsche’s concept of power. I guess we should do the same with his concept of will. That’s for another time. Let’s look at this week’s track and then we’ll sum up.

Nietzsche is the philosopher of the aesthetic and of feeling, and so here’s this week’s track that I think reflects the moods and emotions of this Becoming Übermensch project.  

So I invite you to have your own feeling experience, framed within the project we are exploring, while listening to Rausch 5 by Gas. There’s an inexorable rhythmic drive to this track that evokes for me thoughts of nature at its most unstoppable, and at its most implacable. Quite a haunting piece.

Links in the show’s description. 

Do share your thoughts on how this track made you feel—I’d be really interested in hearing about your impressions

Before the summary, a couple of notices. Firstly, this is episode 10 and we’ll be moving to fortnightly, as I need to earn a crust, and until such time as this podcast can be self-sustaining, it will need to take a backseat to some of the inescapable necessities of life, unfortunately.

And a not unrelated point, you can now support the show materially if you are able, thereby ensuring its continutity. Either by clicking “support the show’ in the show’s description, off by subscribing on patreon as a de profundis member. De profundis means out of the depths or from the abyss and this is going to be a deep dive option for those of you who would like extra and exclusive content.

Either way, I very much appreciate your support, and if you’re not in a position to support finically, it really helps if you like, share, review yaddi yah. If you want this materail, pleasure help us produce it.

Thanks. And with that, let’s sum up.

So here’s your summary:

Aside from human psychological will to power which is the meta-drive to overcome resistances, we and other complex animals have more basic instinctive drives. These too are expression of will to power—how so?

Well, remember, will to power evolved only because it contributes to the sfr (of genes), despite the fact that, like all instinctive drives, it doesn’t aim at sfr.

These instinctive drives evolved purely for sfr (spandrils notwithstanding)

SFR involves maintaining one’s existence, which itself is a struggle—a struggle to obtain resources, avoid danger, sustain and improve health—all of which are expressions of power. To perish is the catastrophic loss of one’s power, to survive is, at the very least, to conserve the power  you already possess.

Of course both survival and reproduction tend to be matters of fierce competition, which implies a power struggle—even where it does not involve combat. The peacock with the most stunning tail is chosen by the peahen because his fine tail signals his superior genes—this means genes that are better at getting themselves replicated—that’s power to proliferate, right there. Power as growth potential! Regarding reproduction, many organisms will actively put themselves in danger, or even sacrifice their lives completely, in order to have a chance of passing on their genes. Not just the conspicuous plumage of some tropical birds like the peacock, but consider the fate of some male spiders, being eaten by the female after copulation. To achieve the transmission and proliferation of one’s genes can be seen as an expression of power, even if one loses one’s life in the process.

SFR then is the drive to succeed in existing, persisting and prevailing in the competition for gene transmission. This is what all the instinctive drives of living organisms are directed towards. Remember, they don’t aim at it actively, their directedness is explained retrospectively by the fact that previous generations that happened to be so-directed tended to be successful at reproducing, and it is their genes that were passed on and are present and active in the current generation, determining the instinctive drives that govern the current generation’s behaviour.

For living things to survive, overpower, consume, defend, escape predators, outcompete, flourish, reproduce, grow, expand, and exploit is to express will to power.

On these terms power is a value judgement we make about phenomena in the world. Power is observable in effects, but of course everything has effects, and so everything is power in principle, it’s merely a question of degree. When the effects are significant to us, that’s when we recognise a phenomenon as powerful.

You might concede that natural phenomena are expressions of power, on these terms, but it may seem a stretch to call them will to power. 

Will suggests just the kind of purposive, teleological, goal-directedness that I’ve take the trouble to separate from the activity of our instinctive drives. Yes, but we have to understand what Nietzsche means by will, all will, including yours and mine. 

And on that, let me leave you with this final thought from Nietzsche. With it, and everything we have discussed so far, you have all the tools you need to understand will to power right down to the bottom. All it requires of you is that you make one short but extremely momentous intellectual leap. Nietzsche talks of will in the following terms in several places, but here I’m going to quote WP.488. Nietzsche, the philosopher and promulgated of the will to power doctrine writes: “there is no such thing as will.”