You are a man embarking on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem during 334 C.E., leaving your small hometown in southern Italy. You now must traverse through the diverse landscapes from Europe with its lush forests, through the dry and sandy Middle East, and finally arrive at the Holy City in order to cement your faith. Survival is never guaranteed. If you endure the trip to Jerusalem, you then have to survive the trip back, fighting off deadly animals, robbers, and hunger.

So, how does one exactly do that?

Thanks to the graciousness of Emperor Augustus, even your small town in the south of Rome is connected to the bustling Eternal City, where all life happens. As you pass through checkpoints and pay your tolls to the stationarii, you finally reach Rome and lay your eyes on the Milliarium Aureum, meaning golden milestone. It towers over you, standing at approximately twelve feet tall, clad in gilded bronze with the names of major cities engraved on it. This monument solidified Rome as the center of the world — the place where all roads converge.

Rome’s expansive roads spanned from modern day France to the Middle East in Jerusalem. Recent research done by Tom Brunghams with fellow researchers reveals the extensive reach of these roads, increasing the length of the road system from a total of 120,000 miles to 187,460 miles. Made by expert engineers, these roads were made for durability, often built from the material in their surrounding areas. Roman engineers ensured that these roads would endure for centuries — ironically, unlike the Roman empire which fell in 1453 C.E. — by implementing advanced drainage systems. 

All of the roads had a convex surface, which gave them a slight upward curve, allowing water that fell onto the roads to be drained into the ditches, or fossae. Then the water was filtered through multi-layered foundations made up of different sediments. This ingenious structure allowed the roads to be dry and stable, which led to both easier transportation and travel. For pilgrims, soldiers, and ordinary people alike, these roads were lifelines. 

Moreover, the first major Roman road, the Appian Way, often called the “queen of the roads,” was constructed in order to support Roman military conquests and to supply goods. While these roads are no longer used today, their foundations remain deeply embedded beneath modern European infrastructure. Many contemporary highways trace the same routes that were first laid by the Roman engineers. One can still see the remains of the old pathways, such as in the Furlo Pass tunnel in Italy, and many others that are still sprinkled throughout Europe. Although the modern world may no longer rely on the old Roman roads directly, they were used for more than 2,000 years after their construction, a testament to the architectural ingenuity of the Romans. 

Just as the Roman empire was a significant player in shaping world history and the modern world, its pathways have also found their way into modern language — and even social media. 

“All roads lead to Rome.”

Imagine your life was a series of these stone paths that you took, each representing all of the decisions that you made. Every choice, every crossroad, affects all decisions you make in the future, continuing until the end of your life.

But what if none of the decisions you made actually mattered, such as the class that you decided to skip, whether you decided to take the train instead of the bus, or the decision regarding the major that you decided to pursue in college?

According to the saying, “All roads lead to Rome,” your decisions don’t matter. 

While the saying is currently circulating throughout social media as a meme, it was first recorded in writing during the 12th century by French poet, Alain de Lille. The phrase, which was derived from medieval Latin, was written as “mille viae ducunt homines per saecula Romam,” meaning, “a thousand roads lead men forever to Rome.” Then 200 years later Geoffrey Chaucer, an English writer and poet most famous for The Canterbury Tales, wrote in his book, Astrolabe (1391), “right as diverse pathes leden diverse folk the righte way to Rome.” Moreover, these authors were referencing the fact that all roads in Rome were specifically designed to converge at the Miliarium Aureum, the golden milestone, which was erected under Emperor Caesar Augustus’ rule. From a practical observation, the phrase slowly evolved into an analogy of how everything in life leads to one outcome. 

Over time, it gained traction and became the saying that we recognize today, morphing into something more nihilistic. 

Society pushes us to achieve the best, most meaningful, and successful life: scoring the best grades, getting into the best colleges, earning six figures and living in a high-rise apartment in the heart of New York City. Success is narrowly defined, measured, and relentlessly compared against others by those in our modern society. Nihilism, however, asks the question: is this really worth it?

Nihilism is a philosophical position that emerged most prominently in 19th century Europe, questioning the existence of objective meaning, truth, or value. The term gained widespread attention in Russia, where it was associated with radical social and political movements, and later with the works of Friedrich Nietzsche, who diagnosed nihilism as a consequence of the decline of traditional religious and moral frameworks in the modern age. Although Nietzsche did not advocate for nihilism, he analyzed it as a cultural crisis brought about by the “death of God,” urging the creation of new values in response. Since then, nihilism has influenced existentialism, postmodern thought, and various strands of literature and art, often serving as a lens through which thinkers confront meaninglessness and human freedom. 

Online interpretations of “all roads lead to Rome” have varied widely. It first resurfaced during late 2025, often accompanied by a picture of The White Rabbit from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland pointing at a ticking clock. The White Rabbit represents the nihilistic and cynical point of view — the fact that you cannot escape an inevitable end.

Ironically, the artist of this drawing, Luz Tapia, created the illustration in order to better her digital painting skills. Yet the internet transformed it into a symbol of generational despair. For example this phrase has been used to describe ‘situationships,’ and how relationships always come to an end. While there are some varying interpretations of this phrase, it mostly boils down to the conclusion that one’s actions will eventually lead to failure and insignificance. 

However, we don’t know what comes after death — maybe it’s nothing, or some form of afterlife. If we don’t know whether or not all our efforts will amount to a final outcome, is nihilism right in itself? 

This is where the phrase “all roads lead to Rome” stops being historical and becomes cultural. What once described a feat of engineering now reflects a collective psychological state. In a world shaped by burnout, climate anxiety, economic instability, and constant digital comparison, the idea that “it all ends the same anyway” feels disturbingly plausible.

The modern zeitgeist is marked by exhaustion. Young people are told that if they work hard enough, success will follow, but many watch those promises collapse under rising costs of living, student debt, and unstable job markets. When effort no longer guarantees reward, nihilism becomes less of a philosophy and more of a coping mechanism.

Social media accelerates this mindset. Every path appears visible, quantified, and judged. When every life trajectory is compared side-by-side, individuality feels meaningless. If everyone ends up chasing the same metrics, money, status, and validation, then all roads really do seem to lead to the same place. 

Maybe all roads do lead to Rome, but what we experience on the way still matters. The people we meet, the risks we take, the values we choose to live by shape our unique journeys, even if the destination is shared. Meaning doesn’t come from where the road ends, but from how and why we walk it.

Meaning doesn’t come from where the road ends, but from how and why we walk it.