The point of this little detour is that, if the goal of this movement is to re-evaluate our valuation of death, it probably should try to re-evaluate our value of decay more generally because death is a subset of that... i.e. it should be called the decay-positive movement or something. — ChatteringMonkey
You make an excellent point. And I will add some further complexity that comes from a theoretical biology point of view.
I think two things can be confused here. But they may also be the same thing - being just a difference between going out with a whimper or going out with a bang.
Stan Salthe has defined a canonical lifecycle of an organism in terms of the three stages of immaturity, maturity and senescence. Life is understood as a system of entropy production. An organism is an negentropic structure that arises to breakdown or dissipate a larger entropic flow. And so biology embodies the "paradox" of a struggle to develop and persist as a stable set of habits - a negentropic structure – that efficiently exports enough entropy (or decay) to both survive as that set of habits, and yet not destabilise that set of habits.
So the production of decay is the basis of life. But it has to be exported to an external sink - the unlucky environment - rather than be allowed to erode the useful negentropic structure of the organism itself.
To get back to Salthe's three stages, there is thus a general developmental imperative that we can recognise as the human desire to grow and achieve mastery over the world, and in doing so, become a successfully persisting self. This is an open-ended upward trajectory wired into life by the logic of its origins. It doesn't naturally envision its own death as part of the scheme .... except to the degree that this selfhood is in some strong sense going to be recycled as part of a larger scale of organismic structure, like a family dynasty, cultural community or even reincarnated chain of being.
But I'm jumping ahead. If we stick to the open-ended story of the development of an organism as a unit of dissipatory structure, Salthe argues that immaturity is characterised by vast entropy production - the rapid growth and high consumption of any infant learning to cope and live in the world. The infant is highly plastic, having few established habits, and so prone to making many mistakes. But rapid growth or a high entropy lifestyle also gives the immature organism great powers of recovery. It can suffer big injuries, dreadful errors of judgement, and rebuild back better at speed. Growth papers over mistakes fast.
Maturity is then when growth slows and a store of habits stabilises. The system settles into a routine relation with its environment such that surprises or perturbations are managed to a large degree, and yet still there is enough growth potential to fix decay, or regain ground lost to errors.
But fortunately or unfortunately, the developmental journey must continue to the third stage of senescence - which may be a bad term because it over-emphasises the internal decay aspect. Yet anyway, Salthe's point is that an organism never ceases to strive to be well-fitted to its world in terms of its ability to persist as an entropy producing/entropy exporting structure. And so it keeps developing a greater weight of fixed habits. An organism which was clever in its youth - able to deal creatively to solve the many novel situations that an inexperienced self must face - becomes increasingly wise. The longer you live, the more experiences you have learnt to deal with, and so the less you need to learn. You've long had it all figured out down to the level of automaticism.
Of course, even a long-lived organism can only adapt to the world they have statistically sampled over that lifespan. So some surprise - some environmental insult or perturbation - will catch them out eventually. And because stability of self is fostered by a steady lowering of its the entropy production rate - needing less fuel because the engine has become so efficient in its perfect adaptedness to its world - it will suddenly lack the powers of recovery enjoyed at its early developmental stages. Being wise is also becoming brittle. When something even small breaks, it can cause the whole show to run off the road with a bang.
Salthe's analysis applies across all life in general. Even ecosystems start with explosive weedy growth, move towards mature slower changing forest, and eventually winds up in super-efficient and super-complex food chains like the Amazon rainforest. But then an asteroid hits, or the planet's climate shifts. Perturbations strike from outside the eco-organism's long experience and you get an unexpected death situation.
Heck, this is getting long-winded. But you can see that a naturalistic view of life and death has this double-sidedness. We could celebrate getting old and even a little decrepit because that equates with becoming long-lived enough to become wise and energy efficient. But also, that means becoming more brittle and less able to recover by throwing entropy production and inexperienced creativity at our problems.
We adapt to getting wise but brittle, efficient but low-powered, by become more cautious and risk-avoidant. And that may feel like a bad thing, or a safe thing, depending on your point of view. If you are young - or claim to be young at hear - it might be seen as a dismal prospect. A sad decay of youthful promise. But surveys of the old finds them actually very content as their horizons shrink towards the safe and familiar - or where they have maintained a balance that best matches their life stage in terms of challenging novelty and the ability to recover from mistakes.
To me, this both explains why attitudes to death can seem so different between the young and the old, and says that any philosophising around the issue has to start with recognising there is not one answer that will seem a correct balancing act for all three life stages.
It is tempting to say immaturity is better than senescence, or maturity is the Goldilocks sweetspot. But then each of those stages is itself a balance of plasticity against stability, explosive growth against efficient habit, creative experiment against wise caution. And we have to live through all these stages as a natural and logical succession.
Having said all that, Salthe's canonical lifecycle presumes a materially-closed natural system like the ecology of the Earth that must largely live within the overall entropic budget set by the solar flux - the rising of the sun each morning. And humans of course have constructed a new world based on fossil fuel consumption and the assumption of an equally unlimited environmental sink for the resulting entropy production.
So that is a new deal - one that seems predicated on eternal immaturity, or exponential rates of growth and hence the unrestricted ability to paper over injury.
The prospect of death, or brittleness, or decay, or even old age caution and wisdom, can all look remarkably different to philosophy when considered against that entropic backdrop.
My youth, like many so-called "angry young men", was spent in a kind of reckless abandon. I was wild, prone to celebrate illicit political acts, and somewhat suicidal. This kind of revolt, though, in my opinion, perfectly natural, was indicative of that I had an incapacity to cope with both the fascination with and fear of death. — thewonder
On the one hand, the power to recover from most mistakes was real at that age. There was factually less to fear and potentially more to gain by relative recklessness and experimentation.
On the other hand, modern society promotes eternal immaturity because it guarantees the high entropy production state on which it has become predicated. So being an "angry young man" is a socially-constructed role that unwittingly serves this larger social purpose. Although society itself has continued to evolve to become even more openly consumption driven. The young rebels with nothing to lose have become the young social entrepreneurs with an endless bucketlist of essential acquistions and fancy experiences to tick off.
So it is natural in an ecological sense to be young and embrace risk. It is a modern thing to be part of a rat race where you are exhorted to cram as much as possible into a short life as can be imagined.
Death in that scenario becomes both an existential threat to the self as a shiny capitalistic project and also an escape from a world that has become dominated by just such a project.
The prospect of death produces conflicted feelings because modern society embodies a conflict between the old remembered slower stable rhythms of a solar flux driven era and the new exponential expanding, individually creative, fossil fuel era.
It is because of that we will live and ultimately fail in our quest to liberate ourselves from death that we should consider our limited time here on Earth as exceptionally valuable. Death adds weight to the human experience. — thewonder
This is true. But it is also part of the general social construction. So it becomes an issue with a degree of choice.
Modern society thrives on constructing us as self-actualising individuals. The young entrepreneur has become the highest form of existence in modern culture. And in an exponential growth situation - the world of the technological singularity - this indeed is the social ideal.
But counter to that is a slow-burn senescent social system where individuality its not such a big deal. People feel more part of the overall long-run and largely unchanging succession of birth and death. The sun sets but rises again every day. The fact of death will feel quite different against such a backdrop.
So I'm not saying either attitude is the correct one in some absolutist moral way. My argument is that both are natural to their social contexts, because they construct the kind of individuals who best further the persistence of that social context.
The issue is the deeper one of how long you can actually persist with an exponential rate of growth and entropy production as a society. The new crushing fear of anyone who is young these days must be not the weight of their own distance death from old age but the likely global extinction event about to arrive any time soon.
But as Rupert Read is so good at pointing out, we can't even have open public conversations about that.
Though this post may seem somewhat nihilistic, I would actually slate it in opposition to a fundamental Nihilist precept. Life is not meaningless. The fact of death is the basis from which life has meaning. All forms of so-called acceptance are mere soothsaying phrases to old and tired existential revolutionaries. Death ought to be fought against for as long as we shall live. — thewonder
So what I am trying to say is that the time for such a view has now past. It has been overtaken by a new reality. And it wasn't much relevant to any early reality.
In our most natural state - a hunter/gatherer lifestyle lived to the tune of the solar flux - the lines between the individual and the community, and also between the living and the non-living, were more blurred. Or rather, were socially constructed as a constant and long-run interaction. Death would have carried a weight, but not the kind of romantic and existential weight it started to get with the start of the modern era.
Then when the modern era really cranked up - with the factories and coal fields - there was a shift from the economics of labour to one of consumption. The monetisation of labour led to one kind of social rebellion - the angry young man meme that any boomer was brought up with, and became an avid consumer of. The monetisation of consumption produced its own early response in hippies and greenies, but then was likewise mainstreamed in a positive light as self-actualising yuppies and entrepreneurs.
The culmination of this life positivity or extreme individualism would look to be the Silicon Valley biohacking and singularity meme. Young money believes it will be too smart to die. It will live forever by some tech trick or other.
So life positivity is its own pathology when it out-runs even its own socially-constructed entropic base. Fighting death by cryogenically freezing your head was the dumb thing to do in the 1990s. Modern tech promotes even more nutty elevator pitches today.
It comes down to the tricky question of how individually to view the prospect of your death in today's cultural and entropic circumstances? We are on the Titanic headed towards the big climate change iceberg. We've been assured the ship is unsinkable. Do we jump into the icy water early or stick around to see how the movie ends? Either way, how do we assimilate this global extinction event to our own individualist collection of life projects - that bucketlist of meaningful experiences we were determined to cram in?
Can all these conflicting thoughts be tied up in a neat bow in fact?
As you can see, it is quite an exciting time to be talking about the real meaning of life and death. Never has more been happening on that front. Is the only intelligible life goal these days to aspire to being a witness to the end of human history? (Again, Rupert Read is a delight on this issue).
:grin: