I am far from sure what to think about death.
(How’s that for an opener?)
I swing back and forth between thinking non-existence after death is the most likely scenario and being swayed by reports of NDEs and other anecdotal evidence towards thinking that “there are other worlds than these.”
I don’t necessarily find the latter option- that of continued existence, to be the most reassuring or desirable option. In fact I think that non-existence may actually be the more comforting reality. I’ve written this piece to explore what it means if death is in fact followed by non-existence, and I offer it to those who believe this- even, or especially, if they find that frightening or depressing.
This Is The End, Beautiful Friend
Mostly we avoid thinking about death, but when we do think about it is most often with fear, or with hope. These are the cardinal emotions that arise when contemplating any unknown, of course, but death is the grand-daddy of all unknowns.
Or so it seems.
It seems that it is unknown because of the fear that we approach it with — through which it takes on such a character of mystery. We speculate about other worlds, other lives, other dimensions, heaven and hell. Or we are afraid that death will be an endless nothing, an infinite loss, a conscious ache.
On the whole, I think, the evidence is against any kind of an afterlife existing- it may exist, but all the conflicting assertions of the great and small religions are, as the Greek Skeptic Pyrrho (c.375–265 BCE) would have said, “non-evident.” I don’t think the evidence that exists should be dismissed or belittled, but in the end NDEs and DMT trips, dreams and visions, all amount to basically “visionary experience.”
The difficulty lies in the fact that visionary experiences from around the world and throughout history—despite some similarities in form and content— contradict each other, and also that we know that the brain is capable of producing powerful, compelling hallucinations which seem real. So as fascinating as these experiences are, they seem non-conclusive.
As for the latter option, non-existence, we are afraid of this simply because it is in the nature of our minds that we can’t imagine death without us being there. We can see this whenever someone says that after death we will be part of all things, or return to our home in nature, or not cease to exist but simply change into new forms like a decaying banana in a compost bin.
All of this is just conceptual sleight of hand, though. If we dissolve or are recycled, our unique individuality will end. Those things which made us what we are will separate and be changed and recycled, to be sure, but we won’t be there. This is not a homecoming, unless you think of home as the place where you dissolve into nothingness, which admittedly is how it feels at times, depending on who is sitting across from you at Thanksgiving dinner.
If, however, we imagine an eternal black void of death instead of an afterlife or a warm and fuzzy recycling program, we are still not really imagining our own non-existence, but rather our continued existence as experiencers of endless nothingness and loss.
Yet if death is cessation of existence, then we will not be there to experience it or to bemoan it, as Epicurus (circa 341–270 BCE) so cogently argued in his Letter to Menoceus, “So death, the most frightening of bad things, is nothing to us; since when we exist, death is not yet present, and when death is present, then we do not exist. Therefore it is relevant neither to the living nor the dead, since it does not affect the former, and the latter do not exist.”
It seems to me that if we really confront this, then contrary to our instinctual melancholy about not living forever, it is actually revealed as the absolutely great news that it would be.
As some philosophers have pointed out, if we stop existing when we die then it will be much like things were before we were born. And, as some have wisely pointed (I’m thinking of Seneca) that was pretty alright.
In fact it was more than alright: it was great.
Some, like anti-natalist philosopher David Benatar, have argued that it would in fact be better not to be born, but I wouldn’t go that far. I also find Benatar’s argument that once born it is a loss to die — which is why, according to him, life sucks even more than if we had to put up with its woeful reality forever — is incoherent.
Asserting that a non-existent person can experience loss or suffering is sheer nonsense, which leaves only the fear of death as an evil- or the death of loved ones.
The fear of death, is, I say, based on what is basically a cognitive error.
The loss of loved ones is in fact a real evil, though. I think it is likely, to some extent anyway, immune to philosophy, though I think there are many ways of lessening the pain and converting the grief, at least in some measure, into joy.
But the fear of death? If at the end of death one simply dissolves and one’s coherent conscious experience comes to an end, there are at least two reasons to rejoice.
The first is: peace. This is the true peace, unsurpassable.
Nirvana for free.
Two: it means that everything one has done will be undone, all struggles, pains, shames, griefs, utterly forgotten and made as if they had never happened. Everything that has ever happened in one’s life will have at most a temporary significance — and I say this because even the temporary significance of many of the things we concern ourselves with is questionable — and then an eternal irrelevance.
This is wonderful.
Effectively we get to enjoy life, take our best shot at living beautifully in whatever way make sense to us, live boldly, take risks, love, give, dream, and then- bang! It’s over. Blackboard wiped utterly clean. The end.
This is a sweet forgiveness that far surpasses anything Jesus offers. Who needs Christ when one has utter-nonexistence, one’s life never remembered again by oneself, and eventually never remembered by anyone at all?
Sweet absolution. The shattering grace of death, the only fitting and sweet icing to the multi-layered surprise cake of life.
I feel like I should say that I’m not advocating suicide here. Although I do believe in the right to die, I also think that it’s a shame to give away one’s one and only chance for painful and pleasurable adventures in the savage garden of existence unless one’s mind or body are too impaired for continued existence to be anything but unbearable.
There are also others to think about, of course- and as I said above, the loss of a loved one- possibly especially to suicide, is a painful wound difficult to heal.
What I am saying is that I for one have come to view it as comforting that after all the games at the casino have been played, a peaceful sleep awaits where all the chips are returned, and all records of wins and losses begin their speedy decay into oblivion.
If this is true, it would be nothing to fear, but instead a form of grace.
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Hi Roberto- yes! If death is either sleep or bliss, it's good news either way. Of course the way Robert depicts people who believe bliss awaits actually accurately captures the attitude of many Christian saints, Hindu swamis, etc and, notably, Socrates.
Also, I very much like a comment by Robert Saltzman, addressed to those who believe in an eternal bliss after dying. He says, people like that should be incredibly happy of dying, not see death as a tragedy to be avoided at all costs. "I heard you have terminal cancer. Congratulations!!"