Death Anxiety
6 July 2024
I first read Ernest Becker's The Denial of Death when I was 23 or 24. I didn't understand most of it, but the ideas that I did pick up on stuck with me. It was a revelation. The book offered perspectives that resonated with my own experiences of being an anxiety-ridden human being. I've always worried about many things, even the most trivial things like what to wear to the office or what to order at a restaurant. Becker's book helped me understand my own situation better, and it has been a guiding light in helping me cope with my own anxieties and troubles. I wouldn't say that I am now at a state of complete peace (is that even possible?), but sometimes I do feel like the book has put me on the path towards that state.
I believe that, like me, Becker's book has inspired countless others to think about their own lives and the world around them in a different way. One group of scholars who have been particularly influenced by Becker's work are the proponents of something called Terror Management Theory (TMT).
TMT posits that the central driver of human behavior is death anxiety. We do things fundamentally to manage our fear of death, one of which is to develop a strong sense of self-esteem, through the pursuit of cultural values and norms. We strive for accomplishments and recognition that are in line with the values of the culture that we are a part of. This helps make us feel good about ourselves and our place in the world, because we feel that we are part of something that is bigger and more enduring than our mortal selves. For example, if we live in a culture that values wealth and material success, and our own values are in line with that culture, then we might strive to become rich and famous ourselves. Likewise for a culture that values family and community, or religious piety, or artistic expression.
TMT was first introduced to the general public in The Worm at the Core. In the book, the authors introduced some basic ideas that TMT is built upon. Evolution has endowed humans with many qualities that have enabled us to dominate and spread across the planet. We've developed opposable thumbs which empowered us with the ability to make tools and use them in productive ways. We've developed complex language which enabled us to communicate and cooperate with each other on a large scale. Most crucially, we've developed the capacity for abstract thought which allowed us to imagine ourselves and think of our own existence as a thing that is separate from the rest of the world. The long process of evolution of the human species culminated in the development of this mirror of consciousness, enabling that species to reflect on its own existence, on the experience of being, as distinct from being itself.
This is great, we've prospered and thrived as a species because of our evolved capacities. But, as with all things, there is always a catch. Because we are able to think about our own existence and being in the world, we are also able to think about our own non-existence and non-being in that same world. In other words, we become capable of being aware of both our existence and its inevitable end. This is a very unique and peculiar situation to be in. If you really think about it, you might realize just how strange of a predicament it is to be a thing that is capable of thoughts about soaring into the heavens and also about being buried in the ground. It's absurd. Some find it terrifying, others liberating, and they would all be right. It's all of these things at once.
TMT makes the further claim that this awareness of our own mortality is the primary driver of all human endeavors. It is the reason why we do what we do, why we make the choices that we make, why we believe in the things that we believe in. It is the reason why we form families, build cities, create governments, invent religions, produce art, and wage wars. The structures that we create and the stories that we tell ourselves are all attempts to manage the terror that comes from the awareness of our own mortality. By constructing large and enduring systems of meaning, and participating in them, we are able to build our self-esteem and convince ourselves that we are part of something that is bigger and more enduring. In some sense, we transcend death and become immortal, by being part of something that is immortal.
And although it works—we've managed to build great civilizations, we've made incredible scientific discoveries and invented amazing technologies that have made our lives easier and more comfortable, we've created beautiful art and music that touched the deepest parts of ourselves—we do all of these things still encased in a body that is destined to grow old and rot away. We can engage as much as we want in the pursuit of cultural values and norms to build up our self-esteem, but at the end of the day, we are still going to die. This raises one very interesting psychological question: if all is futile, why do we bother at all?
There are two possible responses. One is that the premise is wrong: that not all is futile, that it is possible to transcend our mortality and escape the clutches of death. To actually enter the pantheon and finally live among the gods. There's some ongoing research which are in line with this goal. There's even a foundation that promises to freeze your body at the time of your demise so that it can be defrosted at some future date when it's possible to extend life indefinitely.
The other response, which is less future-oriented and more applicable to you and I today, is that, in addition to self-awareness, evolution has endowed us with another capacity to help us manage our death anxiety, called repression. The topic of repression is not explored much in The Worm at the Core, but it is a central idea in Becker's The Denial of Death. Closely related to repression is the concept of our "character armor", which is the psychological defenses that we build up during childhood to protect ourselves from the anxiety that comes from the awareness of our own mortality. As children, we are exposed to situations that arouse our death anxiety, such as the death of a loved one, or the realization that we ourselves are going to die one day. Although the child has no way of understanding these phenomena (the adult doesn't either), the child has to come up with some ways of coping with them, and one way is repression. The child, or his/her nature to be exact, pushes these anxieties down into the subconscious, so that they never appear again in his/her conscious awareness. However, the child's ignorance of these anxieties does not imply that they are no longer there. They're still there, constantly influencing the child's behavior and actions from beneath, all the way into adulthood. The result is a set of character quirks and idiosyncrasies that are unique to the individual. They become part of the individual's personality, "just the way they are", so to speak. But what is often unrealized is that there are roots and causes to these quirks, it's just that they're all buried deep in the individual's subconscious.
Repression is a powerful mechanism that helps us manage our death anxiety. It allows us to go about our daily lives without being constantly overwhelmed by the terror of our own mortality. It's allowed us to "forget" that we are going to die, so that we can focus on forming meaningful relationships and building civilisations and creating art and music and all the other things that make life worth living. But it comes at a cost. The cost is that we are not fully aware of ourselves, of our own motivations and desires. We are not fully aware of the things that drive us to do what we do, and we are not fully aware of the things that hold us back. We might even engage in behaviors that are harmful to ourselves and others, that are not in line with our own values and beliefs, without realizing why we are doing so.
This is probably why the ancient Greeks were so insistent on knowing thyself. They knew that the key to living a good and full life was to be aware of oneself, of our actions, our own strengths and weaknesses, to know what one truly desires and what one truly fears. Part of the reason why it's a chore to know ourselves is that it is in our nature to suppress ourselves, to hide parts of ourselves from ourselves, because they remind us of our own mortality. We don't live our lives to the fullest, we don't experience the full range of what the human condition has to offer, because some of it is too painful to bear. But what's the worst that can happen? It's going to happen anyway. We've sunk the cost of our existence, might as well make the most of it. As Dylan Thomas wrote:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.