Personal Perspectives

When I think of death, it is simply just a thought. When I try to imagine what it is like to be dead coupled with the fact that means one day I will cease to exist, I feel a pit develop in my stomach like I am going to pass out. It cosumes me with fear of the unknown and my breath quickens as my body cannot comprehend the thoughts of that experience. The anxiety that results is one that can disappear quickly with a distraction away from those thoughts.

Other anxieties that I harbor don’t leave as readily, and I often must focus on my breath or close my eyes to eliminate the closing in of my surroundings. This form of concentration on myself is something I have incorporated as fundamental to my existence, while the anxiety that comes with facing the fear of my death has not. The contemplative practices we have done in class this quarter while discussing reactions to mortality have helped me understand how to combine these practices.

The Double Secret is a surrealist painting done by Rene Magritte that is said to represent the confrontation of what lays beyond the human figure, including thoughts of death.

Contemplative practices forced me to shut out the distractions of the room and people around me and focus on the concepts of the course materials as we guided our breaths and tuned into the feelings of our bodies in the context of Terror Management Theory and death anxiety. I was more readily able to work through what had previously been feelings of dread when confronting death and move across perspectives.

The movement I prefer is within my own thoughts in mind through the stillness of my body in order to isolate my thoughts. When we engaged in a contemplative practice of moving within spaces that were shared with others, I found myself slipping into thoughts outside of the ones I was trying to center–invoking anxiety rather than escaping it. 

There is value within perspectives, especially in hearing and experiencing it with others. However, I believe that the contemplative practices allowed me to gain perspective within myself and confront ideas and feelings I would otherwise push down. The chaos of our world can distract us from our finitude but understanding that it will come and facing it has made me all the more ready for it.





Contemplative Practices Ease Existential Anxiety

Perhaps the best place to look at Terror Management Theory on a personal scale isn’t in the worldly examples we talk about in class, but rather in our class environment itself. Whether we’re talking about mortality directly or circling around it through conversation of climate change and world strife, one could argue that our class content serves as a continuous series of death reminders. 

What’s the result? Well, we see it every class session. People strongly assert their values, speak with fervor, and often try to sway others to their own beliefs. This isn’t a bad thing – it simply means that the role of contemplative practices is especially crucial and has the potential to have a great impact.

Contemplative practices break open an environment full of seemingly-endless existential pondering. During our first practice, after a class period that overwhelmed me in ways my calculus and biology classes never have, I let myself simply let go of an obsession with thoughts. I treated them like clouds moving across the sky and found a peace that I often lose when engaging in difficult conversations. 

When we spend so much time thinking and talking about death in our class, contemplative practices offer a time to decompress. It feels like a reversal as we move from brain to body. Contemplative practices ground me. When life’s larger questions and existential dread become too much, our class contemplative practices give me the space to focus on my body rather than my thoughts. 

For some people, perhaps the practices are about an appreciation of the mind, thoughts, and thinking. I personally find the most peace when I let my mind do what it wants and focus rather on the physical space I occupy in the world. We spend most of our class time leaning into our thoughts and thinking deeply about the world. Then through contemplative practices we’re away from the structured, analytical thinking we bring to class discussions. I feel my presence in our classroom and always am in a better mental state to connect with my classmates afterwards.

Contemplative practices ease the jarring effects of death reminders. In practices, I don’t feel the pressure to prove my world views and cling to social beliefs, but rather a sense of stillness in appreciating my presence in our world. I’m not pessimistic about the future or fighting against an overwhelming sea of issues. For a precious moment, life is as it is. 

 

Terror Management: a Necessary Evil?

Throughout this class, I think I’ve realized one thing. Nothing is set; reality is perception. Facts are relative, and the truth is relative. The only real thing we have is the inevitability of death. In Baldwin and Buddhism: Death Denial, White Supremacy, and the Promise of Racial Justice James K. Rowe quotes James Baldwin.

“Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have.”

In short, death is the one thing we can rely on. We focus a lot on the present during these past few cognitive practices. I’ve noticed that these reflections are centered around processing the current moment.

This might not be directly related to the course, but I think these contemplative practices have made me realize that to acknowledge death is to appreciate life.

In class, we talk alot about terror management because of its centrality to the course, but we never ask the question that I think is critical to understanding human behavior, “Is terror management essential to living a fulfilling life? If we didn’t have lows, we wouldn’t appreciate highs. Terror management is ingrained in our human psyche; if we are products of evolution, terror management must be an important part of human survival. Why do we deny something we cannot control? And what is the evolutionary benefit of existential self-consciousness? If death is inevitable, why are we made to fear it?

Death Symbolism & Death Personification in Art History | Art & Object

What Are Humans For?

This course’s unconventional take on politics stood out to me. I’ve taken a fair share of polisci classes both in the upper and lower levels but never once has the topic of death been brought up. I guess I’m saying that most of my polisci classes have felt empirical, to a fault. In the past three years, I’ve talked about how things are and the history behind them. And now it’s really comforting to know that political science can be about that and more. What I hope to get out of this class is a better understanding of how things SHOULD be. I want to talk about what we can do better as a society, and I think this class focuses on bettering the future.
And with all this on my mind, something that stood out to me in the course material from week one was when, in her TED talk, Professor Litfin posed the question, “What are humans for?” To me, this was an odd question. I’ve heard people ask if life has a purpose, but never any question like this. Trying to answer this question makes me dizzy. I’ve thought alot about the meaning of life but pondering “What are humans for?” makes a lot of other existential questions like “what is the meaning of life?” seem insignificant. Is the meaning of life a trivial undertaking? Does it matter? The purpose of life seems like such a self-absorbed question.
What are humans for? How do we affect the world around us? Are we a force of good or evil? This question has become more critical. How can we affect the earth and each other in a positive manner? Rather than thinking about why we are here, we should focus on using our influence to affect the planet positively.
Throughout this reflective process, I’ve asked myself more questions than I have answers to. And I’m not sure if there are any correct answers. I do know that asking questions in hopes of seeking inner meaning can be self-fulfilling, but they won’t solve world problems.
I’m sure throughout this course, I’ll be asking many questions, some small and some big. We live in a polarizing world where opinions are rampant, and people easily anger. I just hope that I’ll be able to challenge my own views and others without causing too much trouble.

Pondering death can make or break society

Thinking more deeply about death has shocked me out of my daily rhythm. In some moments I’ve wished I was more religious as a way to “beat” the fear of death by utter belief in something else. The Worm at the Core tested me – it made me think, how is grappling with death culturally beneficial? Is finding my way through intense existential thoughts going to build me into a better person, or only blur my focus of reality more? 

A holistic and healthy relationship with death, rather than blind ignorance and avoidance, is the path I want to take. In The Worm at the Core’s “Living with Death” section, the authors propose that “being mortal, while terrifying, can also make our lives sublime by infusing us with courage, compassion, and concern for future generations.” (225) I strive to find this.

Sometimes the idea that I’m going to die one day doesn’t scare me though, but rather gives me a sense of nonchalance and indifference, which can often be equally damaging as fear of death. Climate change seems too overwhelming? Many of the repercussions will be hundreds of years from now, it’s not worth stressing about! Might as well give in to consumerism, it’s the path laid out for me!  

This is a coping mechanism that I believe many people, especially from industrialized consumer cultures hold. They warp fear of death into destructive acceptance and use the idea that they’re going to die at some point to justify overuse that sets future generations up for failure. 

Purposeful thinking about death that The Worm at the Core describes provides a different outlook. Everyone needs to grapple with death in their own way, but understanding death as a cyclical continuation of humanity lessens the fear for me. For more people to come after us and experience the joy and beauty of Earth, we all must die. Not die with the intention of draining all of the resources we want to experience before our own mortality – die with the intention of leaving room for a new generation of people. 

I want future generations of children to marvel at trees – to walk through forests with soil staining their feet and adore waterfalls, to see the remarkable diversity of animals in our world, and to gain joy from the things we take for granted. We will die, but our legacy and “immortality project” lies in preserving this remarkable place we call home. 

The Most Important Keystone Species

Since the first week of this quarter, I have been considering the question: “What are people for in terms of the basic ecological functioning of the Earth?” There isn’t an all encompassing answer to this question, but there is a definition that we fit into.

Keystone species are often defined as a group of organisms that hold an ecosystem together, or have a disproportionately large effect on the system compared to their abundance. When the keystone species is removed, the system will collapse.

A demonstration of the importance of a keystone species (sharks in this case). Find it Here

It’s easy to make the argument that humans have an immense effect on the entire planet – it’s in the news everyday. But how are we holding the ecosystems of the planet together? We are unique in this world because we have the awareness and the ability to want to save the biodiversity that we are quickly killing. We can take a collapsing ecosystem and prop it up with resources and breeding programs so that it lives on. We put patches and glue over cracks in our failing global ecological system in the hopes that what we fix will ripple and stave off extinction in other parts of the world. It’s a valiant and necessary effort, and without it, the biodiversity on our planet would collapse and disappear much faster.

However, humans have created a culture around the death of species that makes it hard to make the most logical decisions as we try and patch our ecosystems. More often than not, if a species is seen as cute, cuddly, or ‘good’ (the giant panda, tigers, blue whales) we pump resources into trying to save them. If a species is seen as dangerous, scary, or ‘bad’ (sharks, tuna, rhinos) then we turn a blind eye as their numbers dwindle further. This is often the case even if a group like sharks or tuna are proven to be much more ecologically important compared to something like pandas. In our culture, we are conditioned to want to save the things that we are emotionally attached to and that provide value on a surface level.

A sign found in Cape Cod warning of the dangers of sharks. Find it Here

As the Anthropocene continues, and the number of species on the Endangered Species List rises, it will be important to remember that what we need to save may not be what we are conditioned to think needs saving. We are the most important keystone species on our planet, so we need to wield our power carefully.

A graph of the declining shark populations for eight species. Find it Here

Further Thought:

Sharkwater from Rob Stewart following themes about the necessary conservation of misunderstood species.

Fear: Friends and Foes

Organisms die, mountains erode, and as stars cease to shine, even the universe will experience heat death. The commonality of finitude unites humanity with itself and that which it exists alongside. Unlike the forests or the mountains, however, humans have evolved an awareness of their impending expiration. This awareness enables the emergence of death anxiety, the suppression of which, as argued in The Worm at the Core, catalyzes the development of fundamental pieces of human culture. Uninhibited death anxiety would hinder any degree of progress, yet through religion, ritual, and art, the severity of death was lowered such that humanity would come to strive. Despite this victory in our battle against fear, death anxiety still holds authority over much of our lives. Just as this lingering influence stops us from stepping into a busy street, so too can it be attributed to the conflict between ourselves. 

Terror Management Theory poses that the fear of death reinforces bonds amongst the in-group while severing them with those in the out-group. While for early humans, these groups may be easier to define, contemporary society has come to broaden the scope of what defines the in and out-groups. Grouping formed based on race and religion litter our historical records of conflict, but as a desire for further groups develops out of pressure from death anxiety, we see that such groupings can develop out of even minute differences, as suggested in Sigmund Freud’s theory of narcissism of small differences.

For many, walking the streets at night is an unnerving activity, triggering thoughts of our potential death. This death anxiety induces our Terror Management Theory groupings so strongly, that we come to view other people in our vicinity, especially those larger than ourselves as a threat. In recent weeks, however, reminders of our mortality have been ever-present. The numerous killings of students mere steps away from campus and the nightly ringing of gunshots have ignited even deeper levels of fear. Friends who live just a block away have now begun to ask for company on the way home, citing these recent events as factors for their greater distrust of people out at night. In reality, it is incredibly more likely that others outside are similar to ourselves, but our death anxiety grows so intense that anyone beyond ourselves is framed as an outsider and as a threat.

Getty Images

 

Death and Culture’s Love Affair

As this course has progressed the conversations being had during class have continued to evolve and push further into the psyche that surrounds death and the Anthropocene. There have been several stimulating discussions but one that stood out to me was concerning the connection between Terror Management Theory and the differing reactions based on cultural values.

For those unaware of Terror Management Theory it can be understood through both proximal and distal defences, but its main purpose is to defend a persons mind against concerns about death through either conscious or unconscious thoughts. It is also considered to be one of our main triggers when embarking on actions such as alcohol consumption, exercise, or different driving behaviors. When looking at the two different responses the first is proximal which deals with conscious threats by pushing them away from focal attention. The second is distal, which addresses the unconscious thoughts through a sense of meaning or value; this is the response that I intend to focus on. Two of the main contributors to distal responses are religion and culture and through these we can see how different people interact with their conceptions of death. 

 

One might ask why the relationship between death and culture is so tight knit but that is the way it has been for as long as history has been recorded. This was evident in The Worm at the Core as they wrote, “The idea that knowledge of our mortality plays a pivotal role in human affairs is ancient” and the authors then go on to mention this being included in many texts such as the Qur’an, the Bible, and Buddhist texts. It seems to me that people have always searched for comfort when it comes to death and through these desires religion and culture were built. Knowing that the end of their mortal life was not the end of their existence and consciousness has allowed for people to think of death more comfortably, less like the end and more like a transition to another phase. Different cultures have different ideas of life after death, if they do believe in one, but many share the same central ideas. Many find comfort knowing that a life spent well on Earth leads to something more and their individual cultural beliefs give them something to expect.

 

Resources and Inspirations

The Worm at the Core. Solomon, Greenberg, and Pyszczynski. Chapter 1

Class Discussions



Terror Management and the Meat Industry

Credit: Nasser Nouri, Flickr

Working Undercover in a Slaughterhouse” by Avi Solomon raises several questions from our course theme: why do humans care about separating ourselves from animals? How is our indifference to slaughtering farm animals similar to our indifference to loss in worldwide biodiversity? How do we frame this for ourselves so that we can remain moral and virtuous?

As The Worm at the Core and our class have discussed, animals are a harsh reminder of our mortality. Our pets die, we see roadkill as we drive down the highway, and we watch nature documentaries where wild animals kill each other. Animals remind us that we are not immortal, so we distance ourselves hoping to overcome their failures. In the meat industry, we separate ourselves so that we can continue to eat the products, work in the slaughterhouses, and excuse ourselves of wrong doing. If we embraced animals as our kin, are slaughterhouses not the same as Nazi death camps? Is our man-made 6th mass extinction not a multi-species genocide?

Solomon’s article describes how the meat industry has been designed to minimize human contact with animal deaths. Only one person works in the room that shoots each animal in the head. Everybody else works along the conveyor belt handling “beef,” allowing them to wash their hands of regret and blame because they weren’t responsible, they’re just working a job handling the aftermath.

Credit: maol, Flickr

This brings up an uncomfortable parallel for me and my desensitization to plastic waste at Starbucks. When I first began working as a barista, I was very away of every plastic cup that I unnecessarily threw away. Now I do it with ease­­­­––it’s so much faster to throw away a lid with accidental whip cream on it than to wash it. I save myself time and an irritable customer. This minor convenience for me comes at the expense of our overflowing landfills and the countless creatures that will have to endure that lid for 450 years while it slowly decomposes.

For many people, even if they refuse to become desensitized to the slaughtering of the meat industry, or the plastic waste of the food industry, they can’t escape it. As is described by Solomon, a majority of the workers in the slaughterhouse are illegal immigrants, desperate for any work and money. As I’ve seen at Starbucks, many of my coworkers are without other job prospects­­––sure they could move to another fast food chain, but they are stuck in the system of constant, unnecessary disposal of plastic. They’re stuck relying on terror management­­­–­–distracting their consciousness, relying on culture for purpose and beliefs, and maintaining their self esteem by reminding themselves that their job is necessary to provide food to millions of people around the world.