What did Aristotle have to say about mortality?

 

I had not thought much about what Aristotle had to say about mortality before reading the chapter on mortality in Edith Hall’s book, Aristotle’s Way: How Ancient Wisdom Can Change Your Life (Vintage, 2018). (I have previously posted a guest essay by Leah Goldrick discussing Hall’s chapter on leisure.)

Hall’s chapter on mortality led me to ponder the title of Aristotle’s book, On Coming to Be and Passing Away. Hall mentions that book in making the point that Aristotle “undoubtedly saw death as final” even though he was sympathetic to those who were comforted by beliefs about an afterlife.

Passing

The reference to “passing away” brought to mind the use of that term, along with “passing on”, or just “passing” in referring to death. Such euphemisms make sense when motivated by a desire to avoid reminding people of the grief they felt following the death of a loved one. However, they may also refer to an afterlife. When I was a child I had no difficulty accepting my grandmother’s explanation of “passing” as being like moving from one room to another. That view was in keeping with her somewhat Platonic religious beliefs, as a follower of Mary Baker Eddy. Mrs Eddy explained death as a transitional stage in human experience and a product of what she regarded as the false belief that there is life in matter. Mrs Eddy’s beliefs now seem to me to be quite strange, but I still think her view of death is more coherent than some versions of popular theology, which seems to have the souls of dead people hanging around observing their descendants and applauding their accomplishments when they receive awards for sporting and other achievements.

I became agnostic on the question of life after death when I was a young adult. As an old man, I am now almost certain that Aristotle was correct in his belief that death is “the end”. However, I cannot completely rule out the possibility that I could have some kind of ongoing spiritual identity, and might wake up in another place – perhaps a very hot one – or even in another body.

The most terrible of all things?

Actually, Aristotle wrote: “death is the most terrible of all things, for it is the end.” I don’t agree that death is the most terrible of all things. Death can be terrible, but some forms of suffering are more terrible to contemplate than non-existence. I am too much of an Aristotelian to accept a Buddhist view of suffering as encompassing the desires and aversions that are a normal part of living, but the suffering an individual might endure - for example, with approaching dementia - would seem to me to worse than an early death.

However, before agreeing with me, readers should consider the context in which Aristotle stated that death is the most terrible of all things. The passage appears in Nicomachean Ethics III (6) where he is writing of courage and fear. Aristotle begins by making the point that we fear all evils - e.g. disgrace, poverty, disease, friendlessness, death - but the brave man is thought not to be concerned with all of them. He then asks: With what sorts of terrible things is the brave man concerned? It is at that point that he states that death is the most terrible of all things, but qualifies this immediately afterwards by suggesting that the brave man would not seem to be concerned about death in all circumstances. Please read again the relevant passage quoted in the epigraph.

Aristotle goes on to argue that “to die to escape from poverty or love or anything painful is not the mark of a brave man, but rather of a coward; for it is softness to fly from what is troublesome, and such a man endures death not because it is noble but to fly from evil” (III (7).

The golden mean

Edith Hall notes that, unlike many modern counsellors and psychotherapists, Aristotle did not prescribe “acceptance of death” as the “ultimate goal”. She writes:

“The honest truth about Aristotle’s philosophy is this: the better you have practised his ethics, and therefore the happier you have become, the more it looks, at least at first sight, that you have to lose when you die. If you have succeeded in making highly successful relationships, the thought of the interpersonal contact with your loved one ending can bring extreme but unbearable clarity to the delight your love of them brings, a clarity which may make any philosophical or theological comfort we are offered about death seem useless.”

In Aristotle’s philosophy, Hall suggests: “There is a pervasive sense that acknowledgement of our mortality and confrontation with its full implications can be used effectively to help us to live and die well.”

Hall considers whether Aristotle would have approved of the attitudes to mortality of various writers “whose obsession with death borders on fetishism”. She suggests that Aristotle would have argued for “a mean between deficiency and excess” in “our grappling with the prospect of death”. Looking toward the end an appropriate amount of time can help us to live well.

The thought that an Australian male of my age who is in good health can expect to live, on average, only about six more years helps motivate me to pursue projects that are important to me. That includes writing essays like this one.

A happy life

Hall notes earlier in her book that Aristotle did not reject Solon’s precept that no-one could ever be called happy until they were dead. In her chapter on mortality, she considers Aristotle’s discussion of whether a dead person could be called happy.  

Why would Aristotle take that idea seriously? When I looked at the context (Nicomachean Ethics, I (10) I found that Aristotle began his discussion by acknowledging the absurdity of the idea that a dead person could be called happy, given that happiness is an activity (“virtuous activity of the soul”). In the subsequent discussion, Aristotle adopts the standpoint of an observer assessing whether an individual has had a happy (flourishing) life. He toys with the idea that people could be described as happy and wretched at different times of their lives as their fortunes change. He notes, however, that a person who is truly good and wise always makes the best of circumstances. He ends up asking: “When then should we not say that he is happy who is active in accordance with complete virtue and is sufficiently equipped with external goods, not for some chance period but throughout a complete life?”

A point that Hall draws from Aristotle’s discussion of whether a dead person can be called happy is that “in other people’s memories, your ‘self’ as a unique person is made complete in ceasing to be susceptible to change when you die.”

Towards the end of the chapter, Hall discusses Aristotle’s views of memory and recollection. She notes that those who have passed away live on in the memories of those who loved them and those who were affected by them. She writes:

“An Aristotelian will use her memories in a disciplined and methodical way to help her cope with her own aging process and with the loss of loved ones.”

Hall also provides an interesting account of Aristotle’s thoughtfulness in preparing his will. For example, he stipulated that his slaves were to be freed immediately on his death, or at a specified later date (such as his daughter’s marriage).

 Conclusions

Edith Hall has written a helpful chapter on mortality in her book, Aristotle’s Way. The main message I take from that chapter, and from Aristotle’s writings on the topic, is to face mortality squarely.

Life is for living – for flourishing. Death is the end of life’s journey, but life is all about the journey not the destination. 

Unfortunately, for some people that journey ends unexpectedly and traumatically. 

For those of us who live to old age, awareness of our mortality can help us to make good use of our remaining time.

After individuals have died it is possible to assess more completely whether they have lived well because they are no longer susceptible to change. 

It is appropriate to celebrate the lives of loved ones who have passed away. They live on in our memories as unique individuals.