Some consider Bertrand Russell to be one of the greatest philosophers of modern time.
They may be right.
I’m can’t argue with anyone who has an opinion about that.
To my knowledge, nobody has ever organized a “Greatest Philosopher Contest”.
Would you be interested in such a contest?
Right.
That’s why nobody has created one.
At any rate, Bertrand Russell wrote an essay entitled, “How to Grow Old“.
While Russell was without question a smart guy, he was also a devout atheist.
Atheist philosophers, even the famous ones, stumble when trying to assign meaning to life.
If you’re not interested in talking about death, you can stop reading here:
Some old people are oppressed by the fear of death. In the young there there is a justification for this feeling. Young men who have reason to fear that they will be killed in battle may justifiably feel bitter in the thought that they have been cheated of the best things that life has to offer. But in an old man who has known human joys and sorrows, and has achieved whatever work it was in him to do, the fear of death is somewhat abject and ignoble.
Yowza!
Save that quote for the next time someone tells says, “Religious people are judgmental and mean.”
I’ll summarize: “Old people who fear death are pitiful cowards.”
So, how does Russell suggest we face mortality with bravery and nobility?
Behold:
The best way to overcome it…is to make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. An individual human existence should be like a river: small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being. The man who, in old age, can see his life in this way, will not suffer from the fear of death, since the things he cares for will continue.
According to Russell, the secret to overcoming death anxiety is gradually shedding the idea that life is personal.
Think you can do that?
I don’t.
Not without a drug overdose.
Or a lobotomy.
Because…
…even rivers don’t exist impersonally.
Rivers have names.
The river continues to exist after the water reaches the ocean.
Good old Bertrand tried to pull a fast one!
He started out talking about the river banks (they should recede).
He concluded by talking about the water within the banks (it merges with the ocean).
So is am I the river banks or am I the water itself?
Which is it, Bertrand?
I think he accidentally gives a hint at the very end of the essay.
And if, with the decay of vitality, weariness increases, the thought of rest will not be unwelcome.
It is odd for an atheist to equate death with “rest”.
Life goes on after we “rest”.
Like the river goes on after the water passes.
Why did Russell say “rest” instead of “death”?
Why didn’t he say, “The thought of extinction will not be unwelcome”?
Maybe he’s afraid of dying.
11 Responses
What happened to all the comments? I can only see six… ?
Nevermind – I’m an idiot. I confused this with another post because Amanda posted the same comment in two different places…. clearly not my fault. ;P
Doesn’t rhyme.
😉
“The man who, in old age, can see his life in this way, will not suffer from the fear of death, since the things he cares for will continue.”
LOL! I think this is wishful thinking on ol’ Berty’s part. The reality is, you will die and pitiless and impersonal rivers and inanimate things move on as if you never existed because they have no conscious to care about you in the first place. And since you mastered becoming so impersonal, you will die completely alone and forgotten because no one will care one whit that you’re gone. Your relatively short life (full of pain and suffering) is ultimately destined for worm food, Mr. Stardust. That’s it. You’re gone and forgotten. But nice attempt to find some transcendent meaning to your empty and purposeless life (which is also instructive). 🙂
It is quite difficult (maybe impossible?) to express meaning and purpose without some reference to a transcendent “Purpose Giver”. If we determine purpose for ourselves, then our purpose dies with us. There is nothing to “carry on” the task of expressing our life’s meaning. Other people will be busy with their own purpose. And the rivers, as you said, never cared in the first place.
I am always impressed by the scrawlings of atheists. If, in fact, at the end there is no meaning, reason, or purpose for life, then why do we “fear” death? Why do we write books about it? What gives us the need for books about anything?
A world without meaning would be chaos.
I’m sure “civilization” would have quickly killed itself off after climbing out of its’ primordial ooze.
Well, ol’ Berty’s not forgotten, is he, genius? Because here you are, nearly fifty years after his death, still talking about him.
Who’s going to be talking about ol’ Mel or JB in fifty or so years time? Like most of us, you’ll soon be forgotten. It’s not just the rivers that have no conscious [sic] to care about you — later generations of people won’t, either.
Nice attempt to flatter yourselves that your lives have some transcendent meaning.
Doesn’t rhyme.
Does nothing escape your eagle eye?
Doesn’t rhyme.
When I read “Greatest Philosopher Contest” I thought “Next big board game theme!” and then you burst my bubble with reality in the next few sentences. *sigh*
It’s the same reality that caused “Er go” not to take off. I for one would like to use generic premises and Boolean operators to prove that I exist – doesn’t everybody?
https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/55279/ergo