Anno denied that Evangelion has hidden meanings or intentional philosophical content, but that doesn’t mean the story isn’t profound
Neon Genesis Evangelion does not need to be a philosophical treatise; it needs to tell a story. And that story should explore human situations and emotions. That is how we learn and reflect. In real life, no one speaks in stylized philosophical dialogue like in the plays of William Shakespeare or the novels of Fyodor Dostoevsky. What matters is not turning a work into a philosophical essay—which often makes the story feel forced—but portraying how human beings truly are. That is where Evangelion’s beauty lies.
In human history, there are no hidden meanings—we are the ones who reflect on it. Napoleon Bonaparte did not launch the 1812 campaign against Russia to explore megalomania or an insatiable thirst for power; he simply carried out a military campaign to maintain the Continental Blockade, and it went wrong. We are the ones who learn from and reflect on events, because they do not carry intrinsic meaning—we are the ones who assign meaning to them.
Evangelion does not need to engage with Martin Heidegger to be a deep story.
Its beauty lies precisely in this: we learn about loneliness, family issues, the loss of a mother, and the fear of human connection. We see Asuka Langley Soryu and Shinji Ikari dealing with emotionally distant parents, both shaped by the loss of their mothers. In Asuka’s case, this trauma is even more severe due to her mother’s suicide. Shinji, on the other hand, fears social interaction, yet still finds comfort in his friendships with Toji Suzuhara and Kensuke Aida. Asuka masks her insecurity with arrogance.