I have found little that is 'good' about human beings on the

Host: The rain is falling steadily outside, tapping against the window in a rhythmic, almost soothing pattern. Inside, the room is dimly lit, the low hum of the heating system filling the silence. The air is thick with the scent of old leather and books, a feeling of comfort that contrasts sharply with the tension in the conversation. Jack and Jeeny sit on opposite sides of the small, cluttered living room, the space between them as heavy as the storm outside. Jack’s face is tense, his brow furrowed, while Jeeny seems lost in thought, her eyes focused on the window, yet distant.

Jack: “Freud said that he found little that was ‘good’ about human beings. He thought most of them were, what, ‘trash’? That’s… that’s a pretty brutal way to see people.” His voice is sharp, but there’s a trace of something deeper, something like disbelief mixed with a quiet curiosity. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “And yet, people still look up to him like he was some kind of genius. He talked about all this moral decay, how people can’t be trusted — it makes you wonder what the hell we’re really capable of, doesn’t it?”

Jeeny: Her eyes drift from the window to him, the soft glow from the lamp casting shadows on her face. “I get why that quote feels so unsettling. It’s hard to think of people that way, especially when we like to believe that there’s goodness in humanity. But maybe Freud wasn’t wrong in his assessment, at least not entirely.” She pauses, her voice soft but grounded. “It’s easy to want to see the best in people, but when you really look at what humans have done throughout history — the cruelty, the violence, the selfishness — maybe there’s a truth to what he’s saying. Most people do things that serve themselves, even when they say otherwise.”

Jack: “But you’re not buying into it, are you? I mean, yeah, people have done awful things, but it doesn’t mean everyone is just garbage. Does it?” His tone is sharp again, but this time tinged with vulnerability. “What about kindness? What about the people who spend their lives helping others, trying to make the world better? Don’t they count for something? Freud’s view feels like it’s missing something essential, like it’s too bitter to be true.”

Jeeny: She smiles lightly, a sad but understanding expression. “I don’t think it’s that simple, Jack. I think Freud was just trying to peel back the layers, to see people for who they really are, not just who they pretend to be. It’s true that there are good people out there, people who genuinely want to help, but they’re often fighting against the very nature of the system we live in. Humans are complex, not easily categorized as good or bad. Freud was just unflinching in his analysis of the darker side of human nature.” She meets his gaze, her voice soft but firm. “We’re all capable of both greatness and ugliness. The trick is in learning to balance both.”

Jack: He rubs his chin thoughtfully, clearly conflicted. “But isn’t there a danger in thinking people are trash like that? I get that there’s a dark side to humanity, but does believing that really help anything? Doesn’t it just make you see people as a lost cause? If you’re always looking for the worst in people, what happens to the hope?” His voice cracks slightly, and he shakes his head, as though trying to make sense of the tension inside him. “Maybe I’m not ready to accept that view of humanity.”

Jeeny: “I don’t think Freud would expect anyone to fully accept it, Jack. His view was more of a mirror, a reflection of how humanity can be flawed. It’s not about giving up hope, but about acknowledging that people are complicated and that there’s a darkness within all of us. The hope comes in how we choose to handle that darkness. Do we let it control us, or do we try to transcend it? Maybe it’s not about whether we’re good or bad, but about how we evolve.” She looks at him, her eyes soft but serious. “You don’t have to agree with Freud. But his words should make us think, make us challenge our idealism about human nature. Maybe the real question is: what do we do with that knowledge?”

Host: The room feels heavier now, the tension of their conversation thick in the air. The rain outside intensifies, the soft drum of it against the window echoing the weight of the words they’ve shared. Jack’s fingers tap the edge of the table, his thoughts swirling, while Jeeny remains still, her gaze steady but searching, as though waiting for him to understand.

Jack: He leans back in his chair, looking at Jeeny, his eyes tired but open. “I think I get what you’re saying. Maybe we’re not all ‘trash,’ but maybe we’re not all good, either. Maybe we’re just somewhere in between, trying to figure it out.” He pauses, considering the enormity of what she’s proposed. “It’s a hard pill to swallow, but I guess if we can face the darkness, we might just have a better shot at doing something better.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. It’s about confronting our flaws, our weaknesses, and our capacity for harm. But it’s also about choosing to rise above it. It’s about acknowledging the darkness without being consumed by it.” She smiles softly, a quiet understanding between them. “Maybe the real work is in trying to be better, even when we know we’re capable of being far worse.”

Host: The room feels lighter now, as though the storm outside is beginning to pass, the clouds shifting just enough to allow a sliver of clarity to break through. The conversation lingers between them, but there’s a sense of quiet acceptance — that while Freud’s view of humanity might be harsh, it’s also a truth we can’t ignore. It’s a call to be more, to rise above, even when we’re faced with the reality of our own imperfections. As the rain fades to a drizzle, there’s a shared understanding — that the struggle between light and dark is the very essence of being human.