Freddy Nietzsche’s Last Man: A Pizza Uber Delivery Guy! By James Reed

Ah, behold! The great and fateful arrival of Friedrich Nietzsche's (1844-1900) Last Man, though not in some grim, philosophical tower or among the ruins of a forsaken civilisation, no. Instead, we find him in a neon-lit kingdom of convenience, perched atop a metal steed, not a horse, mind you, but an electric scooter. A creature of the modern world, with a phone in one hand, a credit card in the other, and a heart full of apathy.

Meet the Uber Eats delivery guy — the modern-day incarnation of Nietzsche's Last Man. A figure so utterly drenched in comfort that the very idea of effort is a quaint, antiquated relic of a bygone era. Where Zarathustra once sought to elevate humanity, to raise them to the heights of greatness through struggle, hardship, and asceticism, this Last Man has found his salvation in the sacred art of ordering pizza with a single tap on his smartphone.

Let us pause for a moment and reflect on the grandeur of the Last Man's existence. He is neither warrior nor philosopher; he is the master of the effortless life. It is not glory he seeks, but pizza. Ah, the pizza! A symbol of his era. Delivered hot, cheesy, and already sliced. No toil required. His mighty, heroic task is to transport this molten bounty from the pizzeria to the weary, idle denizens of the modern world, and all with an efficiency that would make any Roman gladiator scoff in disgrace.

Nietzsche, you see, was deeply concerned with the collapse of human ambition. He feared that, in the fullness of time, mankind would descend into the abyss of contentment. And here we are, in the year 2025, where that prophecy has come to pass, not with the swords of conquering kings, but with the humble click of a button.

The Last Man is neither a king nor a conqueror. Nay, he is the king of... convenience. No longer do men rise up against the world, nor do they strive for greatness. No, the Uber Eats delivery guy is the epitome of postmodern man's yearning for comfort, their insatiable thirst for ease. Gone are the days of hunger endured for the sake of noble ambition. Now, the Last Man is sustained by the glowing screen of his iPhone, his stomach filled with grease-streaked paper boxes, stuffed with pepperoni and mushrooms.

And let us not forget the sacred, soul-crushing ritual: the rating system. Yes, this modern-day Übermensch, in all his Uber-eatsian glory, is judged — not for valour in battle or genius in philosophy, but for how quickly he can shove a pizza into a man's hands, a task accomplished by the miraculous power of GPS and a deep knowledge of the shortest possible routes.

There is no nobility in this act. No epic struggle. This is not a tale of herculean feats but one of convenience as an art form. What is his reward? A paltry tip — or more accurately, the promise of a new adventure in laziness as he rushes off to deliver another "gourmet" pizza to a middle-aged man in his pyjamas, the faint glow of a Netflix series illuminating his tired face.

This modern Last Man, he does not seek glory, nor does he yearn to conquer the world. He seeks only one thing: to serve the people of his sprawling city with the unholy power of food delivery. His spirit is as flat as the crust of the pizza he delivers, his heart as empty as the pizza box once its contents are devoured. He is not troubled by existential questions, nor does he ask whether this life — this endless cycle of receiving orders and delivering sustenance — is a meaningful one. Why should he? After all, his comforts are assured, and no greater struggle is needed. They have pizza and fast food to drain away the once existential quest for meaning.

The Last Man, ladies and gentlemen, is not a figure of tragedy. He is not the subject of our pity or scorn. Oh no, he is too content for that! This man, this pizza-bearing Uber driver, is the very image of existential mediocrity. He does not strive, he does not dream, and he does not think. His thoughts are as fleeting as the pepperoni toppings on his latest delivery.

As Nietzsche might have written, "He who orders pizza does not need to know why the world turns. He needs only to know the next delivery address."

And there lies the irony, the sharp, bitter irony that stabs at the heart of our modern world. The Last Man does not embody courage, nor does he embody ambition. His idea of adventure is choosing between the "classic pepperoni" and the "vegan delight" on his app. The struggle for higher meaning is replaced with the blissful apathy of swiping right on the menu, tapping "order," and waiting for the sound of a bike bell that signals the end of all effort.

So here we stand, at the crossroads of modernity and decline. And Nietzsche, were he to look upon the Last Man of the 21st century, would surely cast a knowing glance toward the horizon. Perhaps the struggle for self-actualisation, once the heart of human ambition, has indeed been lost — not in the throes of war or philosophy, but in the rise of the Uber Eats delivery guy, who delivers comfort with the same soulless ease with which he orders his next meal.

In the end, we are left to ask: does the Last Man truly live? Or is he merely a passive consumer, drifting aimlessly between bites of pizza, never once questioning if there could be more to life than ordering another round of garlic breadsticks? He is, I think, but a passive consumer.

Postscript: Friedrich Nietzsche discusses the concept of the "Last Man" primarily in his philosophical work Thus Spoke Zarathustra (also known as Also sprach Zarathustra), which was first published between 1883 and 1885. The idea is introduced in the section titled "The Last Man" ("Der letzte Mensch").

In Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche presents the "Last Man" as a figure who embodies the ultimate decline of humanity. The Last Man is the opposite of Nietzsche's ideal, the Übermensch (or Superman). Whereas the Übermensch is characterized by striving, overcoming challenges, and aspiring to greatness, the Last Man is content, passive, and avoids struggle. The Last Man seeks comfort and security above all else, rejecting higher aspirations, risk, and meaning in life.

Nietzsche uses the Last Man to criticise the direction of modern society, especially as it moves toward comfort, mediocrity, and self-satisfaction, ultimately lacking the will to grow and transcend its current state. This figure represents a society where people no longer aim for greatness or meaning, but instead live for comfort and avoid discomfort or risk at all costs.

The passage where the concept is most famously introduced is in the beginning of "Zarathustra's Prologue" in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, where Zarathustra, the book's central character, speaks about the Last Man:

"And this shall be the last man: 'What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?' — thus the last man asks. And he blinks."

In this context, the Last Man represents a society that has become so comfortable and risk-averse that it no longer questions or seeks deeper meanings in life. Nietzsche contrasts the Last Man with the Übermensch, who embraces challenge, hardship, and the constant striving for self-overcoming.

Sounds familiar!

https://counter-currents.com/2025/03/the-delivery-of-nietzsches-last-man/