In Defence of Death: Why the prospect of immortality might not be such a good idea
/In the novel Circe, the heroine ventures to the abyssal plains seeking advice from a stingray-like god to preserve her mortal son’s numbered days. With a slow nod of its head, the wise god says to Circe, “There is no must in the life of a mortal, except death.” Although uttered by a Greek mythological creature, this statement indicates one of the simplest, yet monumental commonalities of humankind—that we will all eventually die.
Most people probably agree that the pale rider will one day come knocking. But there are some who believe humans will soon have the capability to live long past their modern expiry date. For decades, longevity scientists have been attempting to stop aging and some have even discovered ways of reversing the process. The ultimate goal in the field of longevity seems to be the avoidance of death for as long as possible. While the prospect of immortality is exhilarating, a more important question may be to ask: what would happen to our species if we lost the experience of dying?
Photography by Steven Audia
David Sinclair, a geneticist and biologist at Harvard Medical School, describes aging as an illness that can be cured, and if aging can be cured then death can be postponed. Our bodies age and break down as a result of entropy. Over time, the epigenome (the biological mechanism that is responsible for switching genes on and off) isn’t able to perfectly copy our unique DNA. The epigenome begins copying errors in our DNA code, which results in wrinkles, cataracts, or more serious maladies. Experts argue that if the genetic information is maintained for the epigenome to properly read for longer periods, then pausing aging, and ultimately death, would be possible.
But if we lived to be 300 years old, what would happen to us as a species, to our cultures and to the world? Everything we do is tethered to the idea that one day we will be gone. We make music and art, write, build businesses, push our boundaries and break our comfort zones because of it. We fuck and dance and cry because of it. Knowing that life is fleeting, that one day it could all just turn dark, makes us appreciate the mundane tasks to the incredible events that fill our lives. If we lived forever nothing would feel special.
Photography by Steven Audia
However, it would be fantastic to have more time. Some could complete multiple university degrees or accumulate different skills, truly becoming lifelong learners. Those with more of a one-track-mind could refine their expertise. There would be more time to travel, explore and read the stack of books collecting dust in the corner. We could really give reconfiguring democracy, solving climate change or ending poverty a good old college try.
But what about the costs of immortality?
Overpopulation strikes as a top issue. Current population projections reckon there will be 9.7 billion people by 2050 and 11 billion (beyond the planet's carrying capacity) by 2100. Imagine that by 2050 there is a pill that enables humans to pause everyday degeneration and extend their life by two hundred years. People could be living their “prime” lives for a hundred years. If everyone grew families of 20 kids or more over that 100-year prime life period, the projected population would drastically overshoot the estimated 11 billion people by 183 billion in the year 2150. Even if a fraction of people had the ability to make families of 20 plus kids, the planet would already be capped out.
Aside from overpopulation, there is an immense range of questions concerning sociological issues; from how long people would choose to remain married, to social issues like government structure and ethical dilemmas. Would divorce rates skyrocket? Would kids live with their parents for 50 years? When would people retire? Would presidential terms be ten years rather than 4? What would be a “life” sentence? How would governments regulate weird, black market horrors, like non-aging babies used for never-ending toddler pageants?
All the possibilities are alarming and overwhelming, but the biggest consequence would be the loss of death. On a superficial level, one may think not experiencing death would be a welcomed benefit. But the experience of death is fundamental to us as a species. It connects us. There are dozens of different cultural traditions that revolve around death, including the celebrated Dia De Los Muertos and Indonesian corpse care rituals, where families clean, mummify and look after their dead for years in their houses. It’s the community’s way of staying connected to both the deceased and the living. If death was delayed for indefinite decades, our trusty psychopomps would be left in limbo and the billion-dollar funeral industry wouldn’t be too happy either.
Nearly everything society achieves is based on the idea that we won’t be around forever. It could be perceived that, for example, a city is built in the name of progress—which is partially true. But behind that notion is a deeper meaning; the people behind a certain building or urban park want to leave a mark on Earth saying, “I was here.” Why do you think there are so many commemorative plaques around?
The advice Circe received is the ultimate truth: the only thing mortals really have to do is die. People are born, run their course, and return to the earth. All the extra stuff that is done is in response to social ideologies of productivity and fulfillment. In a world where no one dies, what would be the meaning of anything? It would make things hollow, much more frivolous and anxious. Death is an ethical duty in its own right, allowing people to sign off once their reaper arrives and make space for the new.
