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Our fear of death is exposed often in medicine. It is not uncommon to hear the last moments of a patient’s life described as a series of futile, sterile medical interventions that attempt to prolong that life in quasi-sadistic fashion. So much effort is placed in making sure that “everything necessary” is tried that less emphasis is made on providing a comfortable death.
It seems obvious that a profession dedicated to prolonging health would have difficulty confronting death. But it should also be natural for psychiatry to be the specialty able to integrate this discomfort within the medical psyche.
Yet, in training, we have noted much more time spent on the assessment of capacity in patients in order to refuse medical intervention than on time spent educating about the importance to die at the right time, as suggested by Friedrich Nietzsche.1 A psychiatry resident may graduate knowing dozens of questions to assess the ability of a family member to consider the risk, benefits, and alternatives of continued intubation in a comatose patient, but may feel very ill-equipped in discussing the meaning of a rightful life and a rightful death.
Death anxiety can also come outside the context of not having endured enough traumas or successes in one’s life, or not having lived life right. As poignantly described by Dostoevsky in his 1864 novella, “Notes from the Underground,” death anxiety can manifest as a result of the deterministic nature of life.2 Doing everything which is expected of us can feel like a betrayal of our one chance to have lived life authentically. This concept is also particularly familiar to physicians, who may have – in part – chosen their career path in response to a recommendation from their parents, rather than a more authentic feeling. Dostoevsky goads us to transgress, to act in a rebellious way, to truly feel alive. This can serve as a solution for death anxiety – if you are scared to die then live, live your fullest. Even if that means doing the unexpected or changing your path.
The fear of being forgotten after death can also drive many to pursue a legacy. Even a parent choosing to have children and teaching them values and belief systems is a way of leaving behind a mark on the world. For some, finding ways for being remembered after death – whether through fame, fortune, or having children, is a way of dealing with death anxiety.
The Mexican holiday “Dia de los Muertos,” or Day of the Dead, and the Japanese holiday “Obon” are examples from cultures where deceased ancestors are celebrated through rituals and offerings. Such cultures may relieve the anxiety of death by suggesting that one’s descendants will still care for the departed, and their legacy may remain.
Coping with death anxiety
For others, the road to recovery from death anxiety may take a completely different approach. Some may find comfort in the position that, to extinguish death anxiety, one should not live to the fullest but accept the tragic and mostly inconsequential aspects of life. The philosophical movement of “absurdism” addresses this perspective.
In our modern world, where we are so deeply attached to finding the cause and reason for things, absurdism reminds us that most of our lives and world do not have to make sense. While Albert Camus, arguably the most famous of the absurdist philosophers, encourages us to create meaning and transcend the tragedy and randomness of life,3 some patients can also find comfort in the idea that life is absurd, and thus one should not judge one’s own life and not fear own’s inevitable death.
Death anxiety can also be therapeutic. Especially in the existential tradition, one can enlist the fear of death for motivation. Many patients come to see us with a lack of motivation or drive. They feel paralyzed by their predicament and mental illness. As in the experiments of Martin Seligman, PhD, who shocked animals at random, a human exposed to repeated failure and abuse can get a sense of learned helplessness.4 Such patients can be very hard to reach, yet ultimately their despondence is no match for the reality that life will end. Reminding a patient that any day spent not feeling alive might as well be a metaphor for death is a challenging interpretation, but one that can lead to significant growth.
When considering the fear of death, psychiatry has generally taken the position that it is pathological, a form of anxiety. Psychiatry argues that one should strive to find fulfillment and joy in life. It thus may be a surprise to find that this is not a universally shared perspective.
In his 2010 book, author Thomas Ligotti argues on behalf of pessimistic and antinatalist views.5 Throughout the book he emphasizes the suffering that life can offer and argues against the endless pursuit of more life. To some psychiatrists, such arguments will be understood as insulting to our profession. Some may even interpret his texts as an argument in favor of ending one’s life.
However, psychiatrists must ask themselves “what are my answers to those arguments?” Mr. Ligotti’s book is a series of arguments against the idea that life will be pleasurable. Understanding those arguments and formulating a rebuttal would be an important process for any mental health provider. It is foolish to think that our patients do not have a rich and complicated relationship to death, and that none of our patients find death attractive in some ways. After all, accepting our fears as an important part of our body is a natural coping skill, which can also be taught.6
Part of the difficulty in discussing death and the fear of death may come from society’s resistance at having complicated conversations. It is not uncommon, currently, to include trigger warnings at the mention of discussions about death, even abstract ones. While we appreciate and encourage the articulation of feelings that a discussion about death may raise, we worry that such trigger warnings may be a form of censure that only makes society more resistant to talk about those important topics.
For another example of the avoidance of discussions about death, recall the “death panel” debates of 2009.7 When the U.S. government considered encouraging physicians to have discussions with their patients about end-of-life care, politicians and pundits decried that such discussions were “death panels,” and claimed they were an encouragement to patients to “cut [their] life short.” Such public projection of one’s anxiety about death has made it particularly difficult for psychiatry to make meaningful progress.
Acknowledging and addressing the fear
Death anxiety is such a common aspect of human life that most religions make some effort to address this fear. Many do so by offering a form of afterlife, often one described in idyllic fashion without anxiety.
Heaven, if one believes in it, is appealing for the person dreading death anxiety. Heaven is often described as being offered to those who have lived a rightful life, thus relieving the anxiety regarding the decisions one has made. Reincarnation can also be interpreted as another way of calming death anxiety, by promising a continual repetition of chances at getting life right. However, for many patients, religion doesn’t have the appeal that it once had.
Ultimately, the fear of death is a complex and multifaceted issue that can manifest in various ways. The medical profession, especially psychiatry, has a responsibility to address this fear in patients, but it also struggles with its own discomfort with the topic. The importance of providing a comfortable death is often overshadowed by the emphasis on prolonging life, which may manifest as a series of futile medical interventions.
The fear of death can be therapeutic and motivating, but it can also be pathological and lead to a lack of motivation or drive. The philosophical movements of absurdism and antinatalism offer alternative perspectives on death and life, and it is important for mental health providers to understand and engage with these views.
Yet acknowledging and addressing the fear of death is an important aspect of mental health care and a crucial part of the human experience.
Dr. Akkoor is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in immigrant mental health, ethics, consultation-liaison psychiatry, and medical education. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. Dr. Badre and Dr. Akkoor have no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Nietzsche F. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. 1883-1892.
2. Dostoevsky F. Notes from the Underground. 1864.
3. Camus A. The Plague. 1947.
4. Seligman M. Helplessness: On depression, development, and death. 1975.
5. Ligotti T. The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. 2010.
6. Hayes SC. Behav Ther. 2016 Nov;47(6):869-85. doi: 10.1016/j.beth.2016.11.006.
7. Nyhan B. The Forum. 2010 April 27;8(1). doi: 10.2202/1540-8884.1354.
Our fear of death is exposed often in medicine. It is not uncommon to hear the last moments of a patient’s life described as a series of futile, sterile medical interventions that attempt to prolong that life in quasi-sadistic fashion. So much effort is placed in making sure that “everything necessary” is tried that less emphasis is made on providing a comfortable death.
It seems obvious that a profession dedicated to prolonging health would have difficulty confronting death. But it should also be natural for psychiatry to be the specialty able to integrate this discomfort within the medical psyche.
Yet, in training, we have noted much more time spent on the assessment of capacity in patients in order to refuse medical intervention than on time spent educating about the importance to die at the right time, as suggested by Friedrich Nietzsche.1 A psychiatry resident may graduate knowing dozens of questions to assess the ability of a family member to consider the risk, benefits, and alternatives of continued intubation in a comatose patient, but may feel very ill-equipped in discussing the meaning of a rightful life and a rightful death.
Death anxiety can also come outside the context of not having endured enough traumas or successes in one’s life, or not having lived life right. As poignantly described by Dostoevsky in his 1864 novella, “Notes from the Underground,” death anxiety can manifest as a result of the deterministic nature of life.2 Doing everything which is expected of us can feel like a betrayal of our one chance to have lived life authentically. This concept is also particularly familiar to physicians, who may have – in part – chosen their career path in response to a recommendation from their parents, rather than a more authentic feeling. Dostoevsky goads us to transgress, to act in a rebellious way, to truly feel alive. This can serve as a solution for death anxiety – if you are scared to die then live, live your fullest. Even if that means doing the unexpected or changing your path.
The fear of being forgotten after death can also drive many to pursue a legacy. Even a parent choosing to have children and teaching them values and belief systems is a way of leaving behind a mark on the world. For some, finding ways for being remembered after death – whether through fame, fortune, or having children, is a way of dealing with death anxiety.
The Mexican holiday “Dia de los Muertos,” or Day of the Dead, and the Japanese holiday “Obon” are examples from cultures where deceased ancestors are celebrated through rituals and offerings. Such cultures may relieve the anxiety of death by suggesting that one’s descendants will still care for the departed, and their legacy may remain.
Coping with death anxiety
For others, the road to recovery from death anxiety may take a completely different approach. Some may find comfort in the position that, to extinguish death anxiety, one should not live to the fullest but accept the tragic and mostly inconsequential aspects of life. The philosophical movement of “absurdism” addresses this perspective.
In our modern world, where we are so deeply attached to finding the cause and reason for things, absurdism reminds us that most of our lives and world do not have to make sense. While Albert Camus, arguably the most famous of the absurdist philosophers, encourages us to create meaning and transcend the tragedy and randomness of life,3 some patients can also find comfort in the idea that life is absurd, and thus one should not judge one’s own life and not fear own’s inevitable death.
Death anxiety can also be therapeutic. Especially in the existential tradition, one can enlist the fear of death for motivation. Many patients come to see us with a lack of motivation or drive. They feel paralyzed by their predicament and mental illness. As in the experiments of Martin Seligman, PhD, who shocked animals at random, a human exposed to repeated failure and abuse can get a sense of learned helplessness.4 Such patients can be very hard to reach, yet ultimately their despondence is no match for the reality that life will end. Reminding a patient that any day spent not feeling alive might as well be a metaphor for death is a challenging interpretation, but one that can lead to significant growth.
When considering the fear of death, psychiatry has generally taken the position that it is pathological, a form of anxiety. Psychiatry argues that one should strive to find fulfillment and joy in life. It thus may be a surprise to find that this is not a universally shared perspective.
In his 2010 book, author Thomas Ligotti argues on behalf of pessimistic and antinatalist views.5 Throughout the book he emphasizes the suffering that life can offer and argues against the endless pursuit of more life. To some psychiatrists, such arguments will be understood as insulting to our profession. Some may even interpret his texts as an argument in favor of ending one’s life.
However, psychiatrists must ask themselves “what are my answers to those arguments?” Mr. Ligotti’s book is a series of arguments against the idea that life will be pleasurable. Understanding those arguments and formulating a rebuttal would be an important process for any mental health provider. It is foolish to think that our patients do not have a rich and complicated relationship to death, and that none of our patients find death attractive in some ways. After all, accepting our fears as an important part of our body is a natural coping skill, which can also be taught.6
Part of the difficulty in discussing death and the fear of death may come from society’s resistance at having complicated conversations. It is not uncommon, currently, to include trigger warnings at the mention of discussions about death, even abstract ones. While we appreciate and encourage the articulation of feelings that a discussion about death may raise, we worry that such trigger warnings may be a form of censure that only makes society more resistant to talk about those important topics.
For another example of the avoidance of discussions about death, recall the “death panel” debates of 2009.7 When the U.S. government considered encouraging physicians to have discussions with their patients about end-of-life care, politicians and pundits decried that such discussions were “death panels,” and claimed they were an encouragement to patients to “cut [their] life short.” Such public projection of one’s anxiety about death has made it particularly difficult for psychiatry to make meaningful progress.
Acknowledging and addressing the fear
Death anxiety is such a common aspect of human life that most religions make some effort to address this fear. Many do so by offering a form of afterlife, often one described in idyllic fashion without anxiety.
Heaven, if one believes in it, is appealing for the person dreading death anxiety. Heaven is often described as being offered to those who have lived a rightful life, thus relieving the anxiety regarding the decisions one has made. Reincarnation can also be interpreted as another way of calming death anxiety, by promising a continual repetition of chances at getting life right. However, for many patients, religion doesn’t have the appeal that it once had.
Ultimately, the fear of death is a complex and multifaceted issue that can manifest in various ways. The medical profession, especially psychiatry, has a responsibility to address this fear in patients, but it also struggles with its own discomfort with the topic. The importance of providing a comfortable death is often overshadowed by the emphasis on prolonging life, which may manifest as a series of futile medical interventions.
The fear of death can be therapeutic and motivating, but it can also be pathological and lead to a lack of motivation or drive. The philosophical movements of absurdism and antinatalism offer alternative perspectives on death and life, and it is important for mental health providers to understand and engage with these views.
Yet acknowledging and addressing the fear of death is an important aspect of mental health care and a crucial part of the human experience.
Dr. Akkoor is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in immigrant mental health, ethics, consultation-liaison psychiatry, and medical education. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. Dr. Badre and Dr. Akkoor have no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Nietzsche F. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. 1883-1892.
2. Dostoevsky F. Notes from the Underground. 1864.
3. Camus A. The Plague. 1947.
4. Seligman M. Helplessness: On depression, development, and death. 1975.
5. Ligotti T. The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. 2010.
6. Hayes SC. Behav Ther. 2016 Nov;47(6):869-85. doi: 10.1016/j.beth.2016.11.006.
7. Nyhan B. The Forum. 2010 April 27;8(1). doi: 10.2202/1540-8884.1354.
Our fear of death is exposed often in medicine. It is not uncommon to hear the last moments of a patient’s life described as a series of futile, sterile medical interventions that attempt to prolong that life in quasi-sadistic fashion. So much effort is placed in making sure that “everything necessary” is tried that less emphasis is made on providing a comfortable death.
It seems obvious that a profession dedicated to prolonging health would have difficulty confronting death. But it should also be natural for psychiatry to be the specialty able to integrate this discomfort within the medical psyche.
Yet, in training, we have noted much more time spent on the assessment of capacity in patients in order to refuse medical intervention than on time spent educating about the importance to die at the right time, as suggested by Friedrich Nietzsche.1 A psychiatry resident may graduate knowing dozens of questions to assess the ability of a family member to consider the risk, benefits, and alternatives of continued intubation in a comatose patient, but may feel very ill-equipped in discussing the meaning of a rightful life and a rightful death.
Death anxiety can also come outside the context of not having endured enough traumas or successes in one’s life, or not having lived life right. As poignantly described by Dostoevsky in his 1864 novella, “Notes from the Underground,” death anxiety can manifest as a result of the deterministic nature of life.2 Doing everything which is expected of us can feel like a betrayal of our one chance to have lived life authentically. This concept is also particularly familiar to physicians, who may have – in part – chosen their career path in response to a recommendation from their parents, rather than a more authentic feeling. Dostoevsky goads us to transgress, to act in a rebellious way, to truly feel alive. This can serve as a solution for death anxiety – if you are scared to die then live, live your fullest. Even if that means doing the unexpected or changing your path.
The fear of being forgotten after death can also drive many to pursue a legacy. Even a parent choosing to have children and teaching them values and belief systems is a way of leaving behind a mark on the world. For some, finding ways for being remembered after death – whether through fame, fortune, or having children, is a way of dealing with death anxiety.
The Mexican holiday “Dia de los Muertos,” or Day of the Dead, and the Japanese holiday “Obon” are examples from cultures where deceased ancestors are celebrated through rituals and offerings. Such cultures may relieve the anxiety of death by suggesting that one’s descendants will still care for the departed, and their legacy may remain.
Coping with death anxiety
For others, the road to recovery from death anxiety may take a completely different approach. Some may find comfort in the position that, to extinguish death anxiety, one should not live to the fullest but accept the tragic and mostly inconsequential aspects of life. The philosophical movement of “absurdism” addresses this perspective.
In our modern world, where we are so deeply attached to finding the cause and reason for things, absurdism reminds us that most of our lives and world do not have to make sense. While Albert Camus, arguably the most famous of the absurdist philosophers, encourages us to create meaning and transcend the tragedy and randomness of life,3 some patients can also find comfort in the idea that life is absurd, and thus one should not judge one’s own life and not fear own’s inevitable death.
Death anxiety can also be therapeutic. Especially in the existential tradition, one can enlist the fear of death for motivation. Many patients come to see us with a lack of motivation or drive. They feel paralyzed by their predicament and mental illness. As in the experiments of Martin Seligman, PhD, who shocked animals at random, a human exposed to repeated failure and abuse can get a sense of learned helplessness.4 Such patients can be very hard to reach, yet ultimately their despondence is no match for the reality that life will end. Reminding a patient that any day spent not feeling alive might as well be a metaphor for death is a challenging interpretation, but one that can lead to significant growth.
When considering the fear of death, psychiatry has generally taken the position that it is pathological, a form of anxiety. Psychiatry argues that one should strive to find fulfillment and joy in life. It thus may be a surprise to find that this is not a universally shared perspective.
In his 2010 book, author Thomas Ligotti argues on behalf of pessimistic and antinatalist views.5 Throughout the book he emphasizes the suffering that life can offer and argues against the endless pursuit of more life. To some psychiatrists, such arguments will be understood as insulting to our profession. Some may even interpret his texts as an argument in favor of ending one’s life.
However, psychiatrists must ask themselves “what are my answers to those arguments?” Mr. Ligotti’s book is a series of arguments against the idea that life will be pleasurable. Understanding those arguments and formulating a rebuttal would be an important process for any mental health provider. It is foolish to think that our patients do not have a rich and complicated relationship to death, and that none of our patients find death attractive in some ways. After all, accepting our fears as an important part of our body is a natural coping skill, which can also be taught.6
Part of the difficulty in discussing death and the fear of death may come from society’s resistance at having complicated conversations. It is not uncommon, currently, to include trigger warnings at the mention of discussions about death, even abstract ones. While we appreciate and encourage the articulation of feelings that a discussion about death may raise, we worry that such trigger warnings may be a form of censure that only makes society more resistant to talk about those important topics.
For another example of the avoidance of discussions about death, recall the “death panel” debates of 2009.7 When the U.S. government considered encouraging physicians to have discussions with their patients about end-of-life care, politicians and pundits decried that such discussions were “death panels,” and claimed they were an encouragement to patients to “cut [their] life short.” Such public projection of one’s anxiety about death has made it particularly difficult for psychiatry to make meaningful progress.
Acknowledging and addressing the fear
Death anxiety is such a common aspect of human life that most religions make some effort to address this fear. Many do so by offering a form of afterlife, often one described in idyllic fashion without anxiety.
Heaven, if one believes in it, is appealing for the person dreading death anxiety. Heaven is often described as being offered to those who have lived a rightful life, thus relieving the anxiety regarding the decisions one has made. Reincarnation can also be interpreted as another way of calming death anxiety, by promising a continual repetition of chances at getting life right. However, for many patients, religion doesn’t have the appeal that it once had.
Ultimately, the fear of death is a complex and multifaceted issue that can manifest in various ways. The medical profession, especially psychiatry, has a responsibility to address this fear in patients, but it also struggles with its own discomfort with the topic. The importance of providing a comfortable death is often overshadowed by the emphasis on prolonging life, which may manifest as a series of futile medical interventions.
The fear of death can be therapeutic and motivating, but it can also be pathological and lead to a lack of motivation or drive. The philosophical movements of absurdism and antinatalism offer alternative perspectives on death and life, and it is important for mental health providers to understand and engage with these views.
Yet acknowledging and addressing the fear of death is an important aspect of mental health care and a crucial part of the human experience.
Dr. Akkoor is a psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She is interested in immigrant mental health, ethics, consultation-liaison psychiatry, and medical education. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. Dr. Badre and Dr. Akkoor have no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Nietzsche F. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. 1883-1892.
2. Dostoevsky F. Notes from the Underground. 1864.
3. Camus A. The Plague. 1947.
4. Seligman M. Helplessness: On depression, development, and death. 1975.
5. Ligotti T. The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. 2010.
6. Hayes SC. Behav Ther. 2016 Nov;47(6):869-85. doi: 10.1016/j.beth.2016.11.006.
7. Nyhan B. The Forum. 2010 April 27;8(1). doi: 10.2202/1540-8884.1354.