The Only Conversation Worth Having: A Tribute To Hitchens

The below video tribute offers a wonderful example of Hitchens's ferocity, passion, and conviction. Hitchens, in his own words, speaking of knowledge, wisdom, belief, and death, against a backdrop of majestic natural beauty.

The tribute was created in January of 2011 while Hitchens was undergoing treatment, but it couldn't be any more poignant than it is now.

The audio is taken from Hitchens's closing remarks in a debate with William Dembski at Prestonwood Christian Academy in Dallas, Texas in November of 2010.

...When Socrates was sentenced to death for his philosophical investigations and for blasphemy for challenging the gods of the city, and he accepted his death he did say, “Well, if we are lucky perhaps I will be able to hold conversation with other great thinkers and philosophers and doubters, too.” In other words, that the discussion about what is good, what is beautiful, what is noble, what is pure, and what is true could always go on. Why is that important? Why would I like to do that? Because that’s the only conversation worth having. And whether it goes on or not after I die, I don’t know. But, I do know that it is the conversation I want to have while I am still alive. Which means that to me the offer of certainty, the offer of complete security, the offer of an impermeable faith that can’t give way is an offer of something not worth having. I want to live my life taking the risk all the time that I don’t know anything like enough yet… that I haven’t understood enough… that I can’t know enough… that I am always hungrily operating on the margins of a potentially great harvest of future knowledge and wisdom. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

RIP Hitch

It is notable that Christopher Hitchens died on the 200th anniversary of the Bill of Rights. Although he was not born here in America, Hitchens became a US citizen on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on April 17, 2007.

He was in many ways the quintessential Brit -- eloquent, erudite, and, when the occasion called for it, acerbic and painfully blunt.

He was also quite American in spirit. He never held back when expressing his opinions. He made no apologies for vices. He stubbornly stuck to his guns (his name is synonymous with dissent), and he never relented in his quest for the truth -- even in death.

No matter what your opinion of Hitchens, he was quintessentially American. He was a reminder that, no matter what the outcome, we should never compromise on our convictions. We should never relent in our search for the truth, even if that truth is painful, dangerous, blasphemous, or unwelcome. He reminded us that the truth is often ugly, and it often comes at great cost. He reminded us that, even though we may not like what people say, we are lucky to live in a country in which we have the right to say it.

We can only hope that when great minds leave us behind, that they have inspired many others to carry that torch. That, I believe, is the kind of afterlife in which Christopher Hitchens believed.

22 Comments From Christopher Hitchens:

Personal Cremation Urns: Ashes In A Head

An urn you can believe in

According to the National Funeral Directors Association, more and more Americans are opting for cremation. The cremation rate in the U.S. rose from 25% in 1999 to 36% in 2009. By 2015, they project that number to reach nearly 50%.

Bad news for embalmers. But great news for urn manufacturers.

Enter Cremation Solutions, who have launched a line of Personal Cremation Urns, a concept which may or may not have been inspired by Futurama.

From the Website:

Never forget a face! 

Personal Cremation Urns for ashes are a new and exciting way to memorialize your loved one.  

Now we can create a custom cremation urn for ashes in the image of your loved one or favorite celebrity or hero, even President Obama!  

Personal Urns for ashes combine art and the very latest in technology to create a family heirloom that will be cherished for generations. 

They are built from just one or two photographs of any persons face. They are made of a tough polymere compond and a solid marble base. This is the most heartwarming and special memorial product available anywhere - "A Personal Urn."

Personal urns can have hair added digitaly for short haired people, as in the sample of President Obama. For longer hair we can add a wig to your specifications.

The Full sized Personal Urn for ashes stands at 11" and will hold all of the ashes of an adult. 

Keepsake sized Personal Urn for ashes stands at 6" and will hold a portion of the cremation ashes.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

One would assume that if the 6" won't hold all the ashes of an adult, it would be ideal for those who wish to spread the ashes among family members. Perhaps as key chains, or hood ornaments.

Then there's this:

We will send you a proof of the Personal Urn for your comments and approval before we go ahead and manufacture.

Heh.

Ahead.

The End: A Video Game About Death, Belief, and Science

'The End' is a philosophical platformer video game unlike any you've likely encountered. Commissioned by Channel 4 Education, the free online web-game is described as "a metaphysical journey, recording [players'] interactions in the world to reveal their attitudes towards mortality. These views are presented alongside their friends and some of the most important thinkers of our time, such as Gandhi, Descartes and Einstein."

A "game of self-discovery," it integrates puzzles, strategy, and philosophical questions into a world which explores a range of views about death, belief and science.

From the press release:

Set across three worlds - Mind, Body and Spirit - the player must use a unique shadow ‘n’ light mechanic to solve physics-based puzzles, answer questions and battle the world’s Guardians. The ultimate prizes are the Death Objects, ranging from a memorial diamond to a human heart, which deepen a player’s contextual knowledge of death and help them progress through the game.

The End is produced by award-winning games studio Preloaded with content from the mega brained Tom Chatfield (author of Fun INC). It has been illustrated with the ninja pencil skills of Luke Pearson and has an original score composed by Peter Mauder of Phonotheque. Additional consultancy has also been provided by Nigel Warburton (creator of the successful Philosophy Bites podcasts).

The game challenges players to find their "inner self," asking such questions as:

• Is there such a thing as fate?
• Is there such a thing as a cause worth dying for?
• Do you think animals fear death?
• Can we understand what death is actually like?

Check out the trailer. It's pretty rad. Then play the game here.

RIP Jack Kevorkian

A recent Gallup poll showed Americans to be almost evenly divided on the issue of doctor-assisted suicide, with 48 percent saying it is wrong, and 45 percent saying it is morally acceptable.

This finding, as part of a larger poll on American moral issues, had already started to reignite the debate just days before Jack Kevorkian, the man who ignited the debate in the 1990s, died of kidney related problems.

There are only a few spots in the world where doctor-assisted suicide is permitted: Belgium, Netherlands, Luxembourg and the states of Oregon, Washington and Montana.

Why is doctor-assisted suicide such a lightning rod?

Chege Mbitiru writes in the Daily Nation:

Laws governing suicide and prevailing thinking about it, especially in countries whose legal systems have roots in Greek, Roman and Judeo-Christian legal and intellectual traditions, have two threads in common.

They stigmatise the suicidal as unworthy and totally disregard personal autonomy. To Aristotle, committing suicide was immoral and robbed the state of one’s civic and economic contributions, therefore, an offence.

Modern laws, especially since the Industrial Revolution, have roots here. Society has a claim to an individual until death.

Plato argued people are property of the gods. Stick around until the gods decide otherwise. Christianity fits in this category, sacredness of all life, including vegetative one plus sinfulness of committing or attempting to commit suicide.

Here in the US, the issue is closely tied to Christian values and the pro-life movement. Although opinions vary somewhat from faith to faith, the general agreement among faiths which appose doctor-assisted suicide is that it violates the sanctity of life and interferes with the will of God.

Human beings are the only species who are aware of their own mortality. This causes us much anguish. It affects nearly every aspect of our lives. We work so that we can buy and do things that either promise longevity or distract us from thinking about our mortality. We seek youth and vitality and are at our most gullible when we are promised a means of cheating death.

All of this is very surprising when we look at life and death as bookends -- a set that can never be sold individually. We obsess over birth. We attend classes to prepare us. We have multiple meetings with doctors to ensure that the process is satisfactory. We shower the infant with gifts before it arrives.  We celebrate its entrance with cigars, yard signs, and glossy photo announcements. There are superstores devoted to the beginning of life. There are entire sections of bookstores devoted to preparing for birth, and guides about those first months of life. There are drugs that we can take to ensure that birth occurs with ease, with as little pain as is possible.  We expect to be treated with dignity and respect as we usher in a new life.

Yet, that other lonely bookend, dying, is comparably neglected. There are no classes, no parties, no superstores, no sections in bookstores, no detailed guidebooks. Granted, some of these would be silly, but the point is quite clear: we do not prepare for death. We neglect to learn about what it will be like, or to discuss it with our doctors in advance, as we certainly would a birth. We neglect to ensure that the process of dying is satisfactory. If we didn't already find death horrifying, we would find all of this to be almost comical. We are so in denial that it's kind of hilarious.

Death does not have to be horrible. Sure, not many wish for their life to end, or for their loved ones to cease to live. But we all die. All of us. Why not talk openly about it? Why not learn about what we can expect during the process of dying? Why not have the option to exit this life before we have lost control of our own bodies, before we are locked into an indeterminable period of suffering, before we can no longer retain our dignity or our ability to decide what is best for us.

I guess it's somewhat understandable in our society that many saw Dr. Kevorkian as some kind of a monster -- a grim reaper figure who delighted in taking the life of others.  On the surface it seems totally in line with our horror novels, and our television crime dramas.  While we fear our own deaths, and the deaths of our loved ones, we have a tabloid fascination with the deaths of those outside of our own circle. We have voracious appetites for the details surrounding the deaths of celebrities, pretty teenagers, and toddlers (paging Nancy Grace).  So, it's no mystery why the media ran with the moniker "Dr. Death" when Kevorkian's story gained traction.  What this obscures, however, is the fact that Dr. Kevorkian was first and foremost a physician. He was a humanitarian who advocated for end-of-life awareness, counseling, and choice.  We fail to recall that he rejected 97% of the assisted suicide requests that he received, and assisted only those who were terminal or in extreme suffering.  There are many who would call Jack Kevorkian a hero.

Dr. Kevorkian did not like being called a hero.  At the 1994 American Humanist Association annual conference, he stated:

“I am not a hero...by my definition anyway.  To me, anyone who does what should be done is not a hero. Heroes to me are very, very rare. And I still feel that I’m only doing what I, as a physician, should do… That doesn’t mean I’m more compassionate than anyone else, but there is one thing I am that many are not, and that’s honest.”

Jack Kevorkian was an activist who risked everything he had to stand up for a patient's right to die with dignity.  He helped to transform a notion into a movement, and into a debate about individual rights.

Sir Terry Pratchett, the award-winning, best-selling British author, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease in 2007.  Knowing full well that he will at some point reach a point where he will no longer be in control of his own thoughts and actions, Pratchett made an emotional plea for the right to end his own life. It is a wonderful piece of writing, and because it is from the point of view of a patient, it further illuminates the compassion and empathy that has so often been overlooked in profiles of Dr. Kevorkian. And because Pratchett's essay is such a wonderful piece of writing, I have included several snippets:

We are being stupid. We have been so successful in the past century at the art of living longer and staying alive that we have forgotten how to die. Too often we learn the hard way. As soon as the baby boomers pass pensionable age, their lesson will be harsher still...I live in hope - hope that before the disease in my brain finally wipes it clean, I can jump before I am pushed and drag my evil Nemesis to its doom, like Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty locked in combat as they go over the waterfall.

In any case, such thinking bestows a wonderful feeling of power; the enemy might win but it won't triumph.

* * * * *

I hate the term 'assisted suicide'. I have witnessed the aftermath of two suicides, and as a journalist I attended far too many coroners' inquests, where I was amazed and appalled at the many ways that desperate people find to end their lives.

Suicide is fear, shame, despair and grief. It is madness.

Those brave souls lately seeking death abroad [Ed: in places where doctor-assisted suicide is legal] seem to me, on the other hand, to be gifted with a furious sanity. They have seen their future, and they don't want to be part of it.

* * * * *

I am enjoying my life to the full, and hope to continue for quite some time. But I also intend, before the endgame looms, to die sitting in a chair in my own garden with a glass of brandy in my hand and Thomas Tallis on the iPod - the latter because Thomas's music could lift even an atheist a little bit closer to Heaven - and perhaps a second brandy if there is time. Oh, and since this is England I had better add: 'If wet, in the library.'

Who could say that is bad? Where is the evil here?

* * * * *

The bravest person I've ever met was a young boy going through massive amounts of treatment for a very rare, complex and unpleasant disease. I last saw him at a Discworld convention, where he chose to take part in a game as an assassin. He died not long afterwards, and I wish I had his fortitude and sense of style.

I would like to think my refusal to go into care towards the end of my life might free up the resources for people such as him.

* * * * *

I have met Alzheimer's sufferers who are hoping that another illness takes them away first. Little old ladies confide in me, saying: 'I've been saving up my pills for the end, dear.'

What they are doing, in fact, is buying themselves a feeling of control. I have met retired nurses who have made their own provisions for the future with rather more knowledgeable deliberation.

From personal experience, I believe the recent poll [Ed: which revealed that more than three-quarters of people in Britain approve of assisted suicide for the terminally ill] reflects the views of the people in this country. They don't dread death; it's what happens beforehand that worries them.

Life is easy and cheap to make. But the things we add to it, such as pride, self-respect and human dignity, are worthy of preservation, too, and these can be lost in a fetish for life at any cost.

I believe that if the burden gets too great, those who wish to should be allowed to be shown the door.

In my case, in the fullness of time, I hope it will be the one to the garden under an English sky. Or, if wet, the library.

Hopefully, with no small thanks to outspoken advocates like Jack Kevorkian, and the patients who have been brave enough to stand up for their right to die with dignity, Terry Pratchett will get his wish.

Terry Pratchett, in the garden, with his brandy.

'Here it is. I am dead': Blogger Derek Miller's Graceful Exit

I became aware of Derek K Miller's blog, Penmachine, due to his widely circulated last post, simply titled, "The last post."  The Canadian musician, writer, and photographer died on May 3 at age 41. He had been diagnosed with colorectal cancer in 2007 and had chronicled his illness online.

Miller arranged for a friend to post his final words posthumously.  His last post went live the morning after his death.

A few snippets:

Here it is. I'm dead, and this is my last post to my blog. In advance, I asked that once my body finally shut down from the punishments of my cancer, then my family and friends publish this prepared message I wrote—the first part of the process of turning this from an active website to an archive.

I haven't gone to a better place, or a worse one. I haven't gone anyplace, because Derek doesn't exist anymore. As soon as my body stopped functioning, and the neurons in my brain ceased firing, I made a remarkable transformation: from a living organism to a corpse, like a flower or a mouse that didn't make it through a particularly frosty night. The evidence is clear that once I died, it was over.

So I was unafraid of death—of the moment itself—and of what came afterwards, which was (and is) nothing. As I did all along, I remained somewhat afraid of the process of dying, of increasing weakness and fatigue, of pain, of becoming less and less of myself as I got there. I was lucky that my mental faculties were mostly unaffected over the months and years before the end, and there was no sign of cancer in my brain—as far as I or anyone else knew.

******************************

It turns out that no one can imagine what's really coming in our lives. We can plan, and do what we enjoy, but we can't expect our plans to work out. Some of them might, while most probably won't. Inventions and ideas will appear, and events will occur, that we could never foresee. That's neither bad nor good, but it is real.

I think and hope that's what my daughters can take from my disease and death. And that my wonderful, amazing wife Airdrie can see too. Not that they could die any day, but that they should pursue what they enjoy, and what stimulates their minds, as much as possible—so they can be ready for opportunities, as well as not disappointed when things go sideways, as they inevitably do.

I've also been lucky. I've never had to wonder where my next meal will come from. I've never feared that a foreign army will come in the night with machetes or machine guns to kill or injure my family. I've never had to run for my life (something I could never do now anyway). Sadly, these are things some people have to do every day right now.

******************************

The world, indeed the whole universe, is a beautiful, astonishing, wondrous place. There is always more to find out. I don't look back and regret anything, and I hope my family can find a way to do the same.

Miller's entire post can be read here, where you can also find his archive of posts. I'm thankful that Miller chose to share his thoughts with the world, including his very personal final thoughts on living and dying.  I wish that I had stumbled across his blog earlier, but he's left behind a great deal of wisdom, insight, and humor for us to explore. He will be missed.

Ask a Humanist, Vol. 3: What About Death?

(Part 3 of an ongoing, meandering stream of undefined scope.)

"I am not afraid of death, I just don't want to be there when it happens." - Woody Allen

Human beings are both blessed and cursed in that we evolved the cruel awareness of our own mortality.  We are cursed in that this awareness, combined with our fierce instinct of self-preservation, is the source of a great deal of fear and anxiety.  Yet we are blessed in that we can truly understand the great fortune we have been afforded by our very existence. This awareness also allows us to truly understand the value of each day we are alive.

It goes without saying that one of religion's major functions is to address the anxiety and fear that surrounds the concept of death, and to provide comfort for those who are facing death, as well as those who are left grieving after the death of a loved one.  The earliest archaeological evidence of religious thought is based on ritual treatment of the dead. Ritual burials signify not only an awareness of life and death, but also are strong indicators for belief in the afterlife. Of all the varieties of religious beliefs that have existed throughout history, very few were unconcerned with the promise of life after death.  After all, until very recently, with the advent of modern medicine, human life was fleeting. Death and religion have always been entwined. And, one would imagine, as long as religion exists, they will always be entwined.

"I was dead for millions of years before I was born and it never inconvenienced me a bit." - Mark Twain

For many of us who are not religious -- who are humanists, atheists, agnostics, and whatnot -- Twain hit the nail on the head. Death is simply the end of consciousness. We cannot remember anything about "life" before being born. That vast stretch of time prior to our birth existed without us. Why should we believe that the vast stretch of time following our death should be any different?  We have to stop and remind ourselves what comprises consciousness and the self.  Neither the self, nor consciousness, can carry on without our brains' billions of neurons and neuronal connections.  It is a fact that when we die, these neural processes stop. There is no evidence that any other secret metaphysical ingredient survives and is capable of simulating our organic brain, or carrying with it, like some celestial flash drive, the oceans of data stored in our gray matter.

What do we mean when we speak of a soul? Jesse Bering, Director of the Institute of Cognition and Culture and a Reader in the School of History and Anthropology at Queen’s University, states in his paper, The folk psychology of souls:

The soul is typically represented as the conscious personality of the decedent and the once animating force of the now inert physical form (Thalbourne 1996). Although there are many varieties of afterlife beliefs, each – at least implicitly – shares a dualistic view of the self as being initially contained in bodily mass and as exiting or taking temporary leave of the body at some point after the body’s expiration.

Mountains of literature, essays, poetry, and scientific papers have been devoted to death, and its stowaway passenger, the soul. We as humans seem incapable of conjuring a scenario in which we simply cease to exist. Certainly, the reasoning goes, we must go somewhere when we die.

The Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno wrote:

Try to fill your consciousness with the representation of no-consciousness, and you will see the impossibility of it. The effort to comprehend it causes the most tormenting dizziness. We cannot conceive of ourselves as not existing.

It is not surprising that the concept of the soul evolved along with our self-awareness and our ability to understand our own mortality. However, despite the advancements in medicine and science, there has not been any evidence of the existence of a soul.

As V. S. Ramachandran, brain scientist at the University of California, San Diego, put it, there may be soul in the sense of "the universal spirit of the cosmos," but the soul as we have come to know it, "an immaterial spirit that occupies individual brains and that only evolved in humans — all that is complete nonsense ... basically superstition."

John F. Haught, a theologian at Georgetown University, has also written at length about the concept of the soul. He stated, "For many Americans the only way to preserve the discontinuity that’s implied in the notion of a soul, a distinct soul, is to deny evolution." Haught says this is unfortunate.

Nancey Murphy, a philosopher at Fuller Theological Seminary and ordained minister in the Church of the Brethren, wrote of souls:

"Evolutionary biology shows the transition from animal to human to be too gradual to make sense of the idea that we humans have souls while animals do not. All the human capacities once attributed to the mind or soul are now being fruitfully studied as brain processes — or, more accurately, I should say, processes involving the brain, the rest of the nervous system and other bodily systems, all interacting with the socio-cultural world."

In essence, what Murphy, and a host of other biologists, neuroscientists, and philosophers are saying, is: Yes, the concept of the soul is nice, but we can't prove that it's any more than a concept. When a plant dies, its plant soul does not leave the husk behind and embark on an eternal life elsewhere.  It simply ceases to live. Why would it be any different for humans, who share a common ancestor with that plant?  We did not evolve a soul, we evolved the capacity to entertain the concept of the soul.

"Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering - and it's all over much too soon." - Woody Allen

Life is short, and it is difficult. Of course we want life to have a sequel, preferably a longer one -- and strictly feel-good, this time around.

Neat concepts often develop into widespread beliefs (see: Noah's Ark, geocentrism, flat earth). Many of those beliefs seem silly to us now, but hindsight is 20/20. Until another explanation comes along which is obvious and is embraced by a majority of the population, those beliefs hang around. (For example, 16% of Americans believe people can cast curses or spells that cause harm to others.) But just because a concept is neat does not make it true. 

It makes sense that humans developed and perpetuated a belief in souls and the afterlife.  Until the Bronze Age, the average lifespan was in the lower- to mid-20s. Life was difficult, short, and uncertain.  Without the modern understanding of the way the brain works, or which bodily systems produce our senses of self and awareness (or without an understanding of the laws of nature in general) it would not have been terribly far-fetched to believe that when a person lost their life, it went somewhere. It is a comforting thought, especially when we lose a loved one, and even more so when we lose them too soon.

Which brings us to a question I hear often: "All of this sounds so cold and sad -- How do you find any comfort in it, and what do you tell your kids?"

"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying." - Woody Allen

I have written about the fact that, when I came to terms with my lack of religious belief, it was not without emotional impact. I would be lying to state that death doesn't bother me. As much as I accept the inevitability of death, it's not something I look forward to and hope to put off for as long as possible. But I have found that, in accepting that death is not a portal to some mysterious second chapter, I fear it less. I know that when I die, I will not miss life, for I won't feel or know anything -- just as it was before my life began.

"Living in the secular world gives us freedom from the dogmas and superstitions of the past, but it does not eliminate the mystery and power of life's endings. When parents share those essentially human feelings with their children, they are engaged in the profound task of making meaning together, which is one of the great privileges of parenthood, or indeed of any human relationship." - Rev. Dr. Kendyl Gibbons

In the book, Parenting Beyond Belief, Rev. Dr. Kendyl Gibbons writes with great wisdom and compassion about talking to children about death as secular parents. She states that "the particular challenge for secular parents is the absence of comforting answers supplied by doctrines and images from various faith traditions." Yet, she says, parents can equip their children with the necessary tools to understand death and accept it as a natural part of life, and to find meaning in their grief.

Gibbons details "Five Affirmations in the Face of Death." They are as follows (Note: Gibbons elaborates on each affirmation in detail -- the below are simply my own very brief summaries of each):

1. Acknowledge the reality - Helping the child accept death's finality. They are trying to understand the way the world works.
2. Validate sadness - Acknowledging and sharing in the reality of powerful feelings. Our sorrow is a function and measure of our love for the deceased.
3. Acknowledge the unknown - Even adults cannot know what happens when we die, communicate our own ideas, but leave room for them to explore their own. Discuss what you, and others, may believe about death.
4. Celebrate individuality - Each person is unique and irreplaceable. Memories are precious. Celebrate them, celebrate the life that was lived.
5. Affirm the continuity of life - The universe remains dependable. Life goes on, and we have family, friends, love, nature, and all that we trusted can be trusted as before. The opportunity to share love is worth the pain of grief.

Death is not an easy topic, at any time, for any age.  But I have found that, in dealing with death in terms that that are not draped in superstition and dogma, we can address death as a necessary aspect of the natural world.  We can avoid the metaphysical trappings associated with many religious views of death: reward, punishment, wrath, grace.  Certainly, we wish to teach our children about those concepts as they relate to the natural world at an appropriate time, but it is important to acknowledge and accept the death of their loved one without supernatural baggage.  Such concepts detract from acknowledging that dying is as natural, and as much a part off life, as is being born.

"Everything has a natural explanation. The moon is not a god but a great rock and the sun a hot rock." - Anaxagorus, circa 475 BCE

What about near-death experiences? What about 90 Minutes in Heaven? What about the boy who met Jesus? What about the guy who went to Hell?

I will leave it to Mythbusters, and Skeptic Magazine to investigate some of those claims. But I will say that the great philosopher Anaxagoras, quoted above, was on to something way back then in 475 BCE. I will also say that we could all do well to invoke Occam's Razor when we hear such claims. Just because we can't understand something does not mean we need to accept the supernatural. As we make great strides in the relatively new field of neuroscience, we are learning more and more about the workings of the brain and the nervous system. A study by Lakhmir Chawla, an intensive care doctor at George Washington University medical center, adds to the growing body of evidence showing that near-death experiences (including sensations of leaving the body, visions of religious figures and loved ones, and the proverbial white light) may be caused by the cascade of electrical activity in the dying brain. Chalwa states, "We think the near-death experiences could be caused by a surge of electrical energy released as the brain runs out of oxygen. As blood flow slows down and oxygen levels fall, the brain cells fire one last electrical impulse. It starts in one part of the brain and spreads in a cascade and this may give people vivid mental sensations." Mental sensations that could be augmented by our vast store of mental images -- faces of deceased loved ones, religious figures, and other powerful memories. So, as Anaxagoras suggested, we are learning in this case that there may be a purely biological explanation for this once metaphysical phenomenon.  That's not to say that we must accept Dr. Chalwa's explanation as the truth, but such research reminds us that we still have much to learn about the power of the human brain. If we can dream such powerfully vivid dreams in times of health, it must be entirely possible to experience, during a surging fireworks display of electrical brain impulses associated with trauma, the vivid and fantastical narratives and imagery associated with the above near-death experiences.

The most important thing to me, as a secular parent, is to constantly be aware (and make my children aware) of our place in the vast timeline of history. We're only a tiny blip. The timeline is insanely long. And only within the last sliver of time have we begun to understand that the earth is round, that germs cause disease, that we share common ancestors with all living things (many still don't accept this). It's okay to not know everything. It's okay that some things will remain mysteries until that blip on the timeline has moved on a bit.  We should be suspicious of extraordinary claims for which there is no evidence. We have to be satisfied with what we do know.

Rev. Dr. Gibbons, in her essay mentioned above, states:

"For a secular person, the question is not 'Why did a universe designed for our benefit have to include death?' but 'Isn't it amazing that we have the matter of the world arranged in such a way that we find ourselves with this incredible opportunity for consciousness?' What is surprising is not that our awareness must cease to be at some point in the unknown future, but that it has arisen now in the first place. That we are able to think and feel, to learn things and to love people, is a gift. It might just as easily not have happened.  This gift of life is as arbitrary as the fact of mortality: both came about without consulting us. these are the terms on which we are here, and they are not negotiable."

I imagine that, to a religious person used to the doctrine of eternal life, the above might lack the comfort and reassurance afforded by religion. Nobody said non-belief was any easier. Having viewed life and death through both lenses, I can say that death is difficult no matter how you look at it.  At the end of the day, what is important is that, regardless of our beliefs, we find a way to come to peace with our mortality.

"I would love to believe that when I die I will live again, that some thinking, feeling, remembering part of me will continue. But much as I want to believe that, and despite the ancient and worldwide cultural traditions that assert an afterlife, I know of nothing to suggest that it is more than wishful thinking. The world is so exquisite with so much love and moral depth, that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there's little good evidence. Far better it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look death in the eye and to be grateful every day for the brief but magnificent opportunity that life provides." - Carl Sagan

Ask a Humanist

• Vol. 1: What Happened To Make You Angry At God?
• Vol. 2: Aren't You Denying Your Children the Opportunity to be Religious?
• Vol. 3: What About Death?
• Vol. 4: Isn't Humanism a Faith?
• Vol. 5: Why Do You Care What People Believe?
• Vol 6: Isn't It Sad To Live Without Faith?

Study: Increased Life Expectancy = Postponement of Religious Participation

A new study, by Dr Elissaios Papyrakis at the University of East Anglia and Dr Geethanjali Selvaretnam from the University of St Andrews in the UK, seems to state the obvious: Because of longer life expectancy, more people are postponing active religious participation.

It is undeniable that death plays a major role in religious belief.  Our earliest evidence of religious belief is based on the ritual treatment of the dead.  Evidence from burial sites and associated artifacts supports early belief in the afterlife.  

Belief in the afterlife is common in all human cultures, and is somewhat of a cornerstone of religious belief.  And although religion has provided many benefits to humans throughout history, perhaps the most potent selling point of many religions has been the promises of an afterlife.  And certainly the threat of an eternity of hell has been one of religion's greatest motivators. 

If the afterlife serves as one of religion's major attractions, it seems logical to expect that, with an ever-increasing life expectancy in developed societies, making peace with one's god would lose some of its urgency.

"The findings have important policy implications for what churches want to do and how they attract members," explained Dr Papyrakis, of the School of International Development at UEA. "Many religions and societies link to some degree the cumulative amount of religious effort to benefits in the afterlife. We show that higher life expectancy discounts expected benefits in the afterlife and is therefore likely to lead to postponement of religiosity, without necessarily jeopardising benefits in the afterlife."

From the article:

Religions that largely delink salvation/damnation to the timing and amount of religious effort will particularly need to resort to such means to boost membership numbers. In most religions, the perceived probability of entering heaven or hell depends to a certain degree on the individual's lifetime behaviour. The degree of this varies across religions, being relatively high in Buddhism and Catholicism, but lower in Protestantism. In Calvinism, in particular, salvation/damnation is largely seen as predestined.

In poorer countries where life expectancy remains low, a larger share of the population, both young and old, is concerned about what happens after death, which naturally encourages religious participation.