An Immoralist Apology, Part 1: Why do you want to die?

Introduction

I strongly believe that

(P1) "Some people would enjoy eternal health more than a finite health," 

and 

(P2) "It is at least, morally neutral to accept eternal health,"

where 'eternal health' I mean either agelessness or true immortality. While I believe that stopping aging is in principle possible (although, sadly, we are not very close to this reality) I can't really imagine how one could be truly invulnerable to damage. That places this discussion very much on hypothetical grounds, but I still think it's a discussion worth having.

I think that (P1) - (P2) are perhaps the most easily defensible positions ever. Essentially they are the same as saying

"Some people would enjoy continuing to breath and it is, at least, morally neutral for them to do so." 

If you're now aware of your own breathing, apologies.

There are many common objections to (P1) - (P2)  and I will give my answers to them, but those answers will be brief and are included only for the sake of completeness. This is because I doubt there is any benefit to looking at this as an issue which could be resolved through reasoning . The 'debate' about the desirability of immortality, about whether mortality or immortality is 'better', has gone on for a very long time and you'll find staunch defenders of either side both among professional philosophers and your neighbors. See, for instance, the classic essay by Williams (1973) (which argues immortality should be universally undesirable because an immortal life would be meaninglessness) and its numerous citations, or this YouGov poll which suggests among the general British public the split is roughly even.

If a sound and valid argument was going to persuade objectors, it would have done so already. Therefore, although I will comment on the larger debate, my main intention is to invite objectors and proponents into conversation. I believe that there is an emotional core to the debate, which must be understood made explicit, if we are to gain anything useful out of it.

This first part of this essay focuses on (P1). Since it is more personal in scope, it's more greatly affected by subjectivity and thus the most likely to lead us to the emotional core. The next part will focus on (P2) which requires greater nuance to discuss.

Firstly, however, since I am going to try an engage with the emotional core of the opposition, it is only fair that I also lay out my own emotional core. If you're more interested in academic philosophy arguing for why immortality would be desirable, I rather like this essay by Corliss Lamont.

Why I Don't Want To Die

Life is short and there's lots to do

For as many experiences that you get to have, there are infinitely more you do not get to have. You have to continually make choices and reject life paths, sometimes permanently. If you dedicate 8 hours per day to practicing mathematics in your 20s, then you don't get to practice piano. If you read one book a week until the day you die, you still haven't read most books (nor even most good books).

Just as it's euphoric to become yourself and embrace the pleasures of life, it's agonising to think about what you might be missing. We come to terms with this, the same way we come to terms with any other tragedy. But what if this wasn't necessary? What if you could spend a lifetime becoming a musician, another focusing on activism, and another on raising a family? What if you wanted to get into game development at age 95 and that was fine because you still had eternity ahead of you? 

I love living.

You meet and talk to and sometimes kiss interesting people. You see an adorable dog on the train. You go on long walks in the woods, or watch the stars, or tell dirty jokes with your friends at a New Years party. You eat the best strawberry you've ever tasted. You fall in love and out of love over and over again. You cry because someone gave you a gift you've always wanted. You yearn and obtain and fail to obtain and yearn all the harder for it. 

You see hope win against the forces of evil. You see evil rise and somewhere you find within yourself the will to fight back, and push back, and bring back goodness to the world.

You condense all these experiences into art which you can share, and experience other people's lives through their art too. You cry at a beautiful line in a novel, or scream at a twist reveal in a movie. 

And then ... you wake up the next day and realise there's so much more life still in front of you, and you're so immensely grateful.

Transcendent experiences are rare and they're what I love for.

Once, just a few weeks before I got married, I was laying on my wife's lap as they sang to me. I felt as if all of Heaven had been condensed into that moment as their melody stitched together the parts of my soul I didn't even know were frayed.

Even though I want to live forever, and I think death is a tragedy, I feel as if my life has been worth it already because of that one moment. These kind of transcendent experiences are pretty rare and the longer you live the more you have.

Naturally, given these beliefs, I struggle to see why anyone wouldn't desire an immortal life. That said, I can appreciate there are certain risks to immortality that not everyone would be comfortable taking. What I truly thing is absurd is the suggestion that no-one would enjoy immortality, that it is fundamentally a bad thing for an individual to experience. That's kind of like saying no-one would enjoy vanilla ice-cream. 

In the interest of trying to piece apart the emotional core that desire, let's take a tour of the common arguments against the desirability immortality.

The arguments against the desirability of immortality

These arguments essentially have the same core problem: an immortal life would be overall so bad for you as an individual, whoever you are, and so (P1) is false.

Seeing loved ones die.

Argument: If you (and only you) get to live forever then you'd have to contend with an infinity of death.

Response: It isn't a necessary part of the premise that only you get to be immortal. Your friends could be too. And yes they might refuse, but if the only thing holding each of you back from living forever is that the others might not, then there isn't really anything holding you back. 

Also, even in our finite lives, we see loved ones die. I don't believe this makes a finite life not worth living, so why should it make an infinite life not worth living? Indeed, if your immortality means your loved ones never need to worry about you dying, isn't that perhaps a bonus?

If indeed we're arguing about a particular and unshareable immortality, I agree there would be a tinge of tragedy to that. I still think it would be worth it, if not only because in this case you have infinite time to try learn alternative routes to immortality.

Boredom/meaninglessness

Argument: Eventually, you'd run out of things that give you any joy and would spend eternity bored. Even if you did manage to merely entertain yourself, you'd then run out of meaningful things to do.

Response: This is one I really struggle to understand. Regarding pure boredom, there are infinitely many things to do (infinitely many books to read, for one).  Regarding meaninglessness - I have enough meaningful pursuits to last me several lifetimes, and I doubt that I would ever run out since new ideas are constantly emerging. Nevertheless, one could say that "I doubt" isn't really good enough when it comes to a choice with such potentially dire consequences. 

To those that are concerned that there are only finite reserves of meaning, I say do not worry. Spending time with friends is meaningful now and nothing would make it not meaningful. Making art and developing scientific ideas is meaningful now and forever. The universe and human mind together are a meaning producing engine.

What if you get stuck in a hole for 10^6 years and go mad?

Argument: An infinite life means that, with high probability, you'll eventually end up in a very bad situation for a very long time. 

Response: Firstly, the idea that given an infinite amount of time, everything will happen is a fallacy. However, I accept that given an infinite amount of time it's overwhelmingly like that something terrible will happen. However, isn't it equally reasonable to say that an infinite life also entails  the certainly something very wonderful will happen? In that case, an immortal life is offers greater risks but also greater rewards.

I am personally willing to tolerate the risk. After all, even in my probably finite life, I'm not about to avoid all pleasure for the promise of safety. 

It is my personal opinion the rewards of life scale (at least) as fast as the risks as lifespan increases. However, I can definitely understand that others might see it differently. 

Heat death of the universe. 

Argument: Eventually the universe will be a cold-dead void and you'll be all alone. The suffering/boredom you experience over that final eternity nullifies any benefit you might experience up to that point.

Response: This is not really a pure argument against (P1). Given that the universe will experience heat death, an immortal life is unphysical and so impossible. Therefore we could take this argument as ma rejection of the idea that an immortal life is even conceptually coherent, rather than a rejection of its desirability. 

And to that I say ... sure. I mean, that's so far in the future that I have no idea what we'd be able to do by then. But I know that it would be a tragedy if all life was doomed to end.

A more fun response is to accept that apart from your immortality the universe is physically consistent. Do your finger nails still grow? Your hair? Does your microbiota reproduce and do you salivate? Are you still generating heat? Then as long as you live, the universe is not dead. You're a perpetual motion machine, baby, and moreover a font of hope. From you, new worlds will emerge.

Conclusion

After considering these arguments, I'd like to propose that the emotional core of objections to (P1) is pessimism. It's the belief that fundamentally life is unpleasant and the future is scary. 

There is, for sure, unpleasantness in life, and some people are given an unfair share. But to believe that given infinite time, one has no hope to recover is to believe in a universe that is not just unfair, not just uncaring, but truly cruel. Is this how you see the world? Am I close or way off the mark? If I am close, I'm sorry that you've suffered so much that it's made you give up. It seems all the crueler to me if life is both finite and unpleasant because it means those unpleasant years are something one can never get back. I hope, in the time you have left, that you can at least make up for them.

I acknowledge that I've probably suffered less than the average person, and that may well be the cause of my optimism which is naturally the emotional core of (P1). However, I'm not so sure; perhaps the seed of optimism was planted in my materially pleasant childhood but it blossomed in the moments when I was powerless, alone, and faced with an uncertain future. I wish only that I could propagate this feeling.

Things I keep thinking about

 I've posted a list of art that has stuck in my mind. I'm hoping to keep it updated.

You Can’t Escape Personhood: Thoughts on Andrew Joseph White’s You Weren’t Meant To Be Human

I loved White’s Hell Followed With Us, the only issue being that it was not an adult book. I wouldn’t even have read it if not for the fact it had aspects that I really cared for: queer characters, monstrous transformations, relationships between humans/non-humans. These aspects are shared with You Weren't Meant To Be Human, and it’s his debut adult novel, with adult protagonists and adult concerns. Naturally, I was beyond excited for the release.

Adding to that excitement was the fact that the description of the novel, at that time, concerned a protagonist who did not want to be human. The drive to escape humanity has been a function of my psyche since as far back as far as I can remember. As I child, I would

•       wear a cheap reaper cloak constantly, pretending I was death itself.
•      ask my relatives “what are you today” and be disappointed when they said “I’m me.” Did they not want to at least try to strive for something beyond humanity?
•      crawl on the ground, dart my tongue towards the ants crawling on the patio, in the hope that I would gain a deeper understanding of lizard psychology and eventually be able to live among them.

I don’t do those things anymore, but if given the chance I would not hesitate to transform into something monstrous. Something interesting and powerful and unconstrained by all the physical and societal constraints I’m subject to. 

I’m getting sad just thinking about impossible that is.

My hope for You Weren’t Meant to Be Human was initially that I would see this drive reflected in a protagonist. In the end, You Weren’t Mean To Be Human did not reflect this attitude either, but it is an excellent novel.

From here on, I’ll be spoiling the book.

For the novel’s protagonist, Crane, escaping humanity is a means to end his dysphoria. It would be, physically, easier to say something, get support in obtaining HRT from his friends or parents, but he’s so unable to make a decision that instead he wishes to be accidentally mutilated (accidentally, of course, because otherwise that would be making a choice). It’s an impulse that always leads to bad outcomes in the novel (such joining the hive in the first place, boiling his own face, moving in with Levi).

This is so different to what I think of when I imagine escaping humanity that I had difficulty understanding it. Synthesizing my emotional reaction to the novel’s symbols and my textual understanding of them is an ongoing struggle. It’s kind of like reading a language familiar enough to offer a sense of security while that same familiarity obscures its true meaning.

Consider the aliens themselves. These red, toothful, worms which writhe in ossified hives, devouring carrion, longing to see the day. That imagery goes hard. They’re creating something meaningful out of death, striving to move beyond their biological limitations to be in the sunlight. I wanted so much for them to be good.  Seeing Crane want to be part of that, my first response is “Of course, because they’re much better than humans.” But they ultimately turn out to be rather inert cult leaders, only able to control those who are unable to find their own will.

At one point, I thought the novel might be saying, “You have to accept that you are essentially human. There is no escape.” Crane might have been able to escape his assigned birth gender, but was the novel saying that, while one’s physical characteristics are mutable, one’s humanity is not? In fact, I realised that even this question is a reaction to feeling like my desire to escape humanity is being threatened.

I don’t think the novel says anything about humanity as a biological reality at all. Instead, it’s all about personhood.  

Crane doesn’t want to be human because he doesn’t want to be Sophie. He doesn’t like certain biological features and those would go away if he weren’t human at all. But more than that, Crane doesn’t want to be a person because a person has to make choices and take responsibility for those choices. He is very upfront about how he wants decisions to be made for him. It’s part of what drives him to the hive in the first place. Ironically, the other part is his own personal desires, to transition and to stop speaking, which are at odds with humanity’s expectations.

Since it “lets” him transition and stop speaking, he believes the hive is really where he belongs. He knows “the [human] world was not made for ones like you.” Yet his personhood finally drives him away from the hive too: when the hive allows him to get pregnant, it breaks that final boundary he’s held onto even when he discarded all the others. He realizes that the world is not made for him “but neither is the hive.”

The worms represent more or less than same thing has humanity (as a social existence, not a biological one)—a collective will that may at times conflict with one’s own personal desires. Crane is desperately unhappy in either case; this problem cannot be alleviated by simply replacing one collective will with another. What I ultimately take to be the message of this novel is that you can never escape your personhood. You will have boundaries and desires and needs whether you want them or not.

I’ll still be looking out for (and trying to write) a novel that resonates with my particular feelings towards escaping humanity, but You Weren’t Meant To Be Human came close in an interesting way. It’s a particularly torturous effect to see one’s own symbols of self-affirmation twisted into self-destruction.

Solipsism=0+

Quick update on this: currently querying this novel! But also looking to give out some ARCs in exchange for reviews in case I decided to self publish. Comment/email me at laynevanrens (at) gmail (dot) com/message me on Twitter or Bluesky.

Blurb: Zamuel is a burnt out, friendless, game developer who has recently quit their job after a break down at work. Since then, strange things have been occurring including edits to their game assets and the emergence of a pink cyst in their apartment ceiling. All this leads to a direct invitation giving specific instructions on how to enter Solipsism=0+, a world where desires manifest into physical forms known as Wills. There they fall in love with a jar, attempt to find a community that understands them, and struggle to avoid destruction at the neutralising force of The Balance.

quiz

Solipsism = Zero Plus

A novel I've been working on for over about two (maybe even three?) years is now close to being "finished". There are little details left to work out but the characters have taken on a life of their own and the themes have have solidified.

It's a good feeling.

The novel is called Solipsism = Zero Plus. It's a story about finding and/or creating a community and what happens when one cannot. In some ways, it's a deconstruction of portal fantasy, although it didn't start out that way.

The book is weird. The structure is playful, the characters are numerous and unusual, and the scope is broad. It touches a lot of different topics besides community, including, but not limited to: the struggle to make art, plurality, unconventional relationships, riddles, and the existential horror of advertisements. 

I'd like to get it published traditionally if possible. If I cannot accomplish this, it will certainly be self published eventually. 

Anime Review: Horimiya

With its simple premise and surprisingly nuanced characters, Horimiya manages to be one of the few romance animes I actually tolerate. Horiyma doesn't go very deep into any of the themes it explores except for a few, but it shows an awareness of them. It is no mistake that the anime is an easy watch that nevertheless feels like it has substance. 

I rate this show highly but this review will be critical - out of love.

First plot. There's not much, it's very slice of life and that's fine.

Second, the themes. Obvious spoilers since I reveal how certain conflicts are resolved.

Horimiya explores ideas of being yourself and finding your friends.

Miyamura is tasked with crossing the gulf that has been widening between him and others since middle school. With Hori his social confidence grows - he figures out how to be himself around others, and realises that people do accept him. This ends up with him gaining quite a large friend group over the duration of the show.

Of course, Hori also has this challenge. Usually, she is very focused on her family but by the end of the show she has managed to incorporate her friends, especially Miyamura, into her life.

The side characters also have variations on this theme. Yoshikawa cannot ask for what she really wants, Iura has a different personality with his sister and with his friends, Sengoku only learnt to be the softer version of himself after falling for Remi.

Between these characters the theme of being yourself, becoming comfortable around others, is explored in an appreciable breadth but no great depth since these side stories often take up less than an episode. This is what I mean by the show has an awareness of how it's themes might be extended although it choses not to go too deep into most of them.

One theme that *is* explored in depth however is the fear of not being good enough for a relationship with people. Miyamura is oblivious to the fact Hori likes him at first because he is sure he's not a good match for her (in part, because he fears for her reputation), Sakura knows she is consider 'the beast' compared to her best friend Remi and this holds her back from expressing her feelings to her love interest. For a moment, Hori's younger brother is worried that he will lose his sister because she has a boyfriend. Tanihara is jealous that Shindo might like Miyamura more than him at first. Miyamura struggles with this repeatedly; he fears for a moment that he's not really a part of his friend group even if they hang out with him, and then he fears that Yanagi might steal the friends he had just found.

Every character's fear comes from a slightly different place, although most of these hinge on social expectations. Regardless, during each and every one of these examples the solution to the fear is obtained when one realises that *everyone* can be friends.

Hori doesn't lose her reputation; she and Miya create a tight-knit friend group. Sakura decides she is happy for Yoshikawa and Ishikawa when they end up together, Shindo assures Tanhihara that he is still his friend. Hori's younger brother is assured that he has *gained* someone in his life and not lost Hori. I could go on, but you get the idea. The show drives home the idea that the solution to the fear of social inferiority is that everyone can appreciate everyone.

This is wholesome and I am glad Horimiya is so consistent with this idea. However, the idea itself comes with some caveats that are not really touched on.

For instance, it takes two people to forge a connection. Every character in Horimiya is willing to forge connections with everyone else, even if the other person had hurt them in the past. A prime example is how quick Miya is forgive and forget the bullies who made his middle school life close to unbearable. Another is how Hori is able to be friends with Sengoku and Remi despite them exploiting her labour.

While this ease of forgiveness lends to the light and comfortable atmosphere, it creates a disconnect between how the world is and how Horimiya's world is. Maybe the idea is to show what could be if we were all like this. Maybe it's just meant to be escapism and this theme could not be brought in without ruining that.

Most other ideas are only explored in breadth. Such as discovering one's own way of experiencing sex, not just intimate relationships. Of course, we're now going to talk about Hori's kinks.

Hori's S&M interests, while not exactly wholesome and often toxic in how she pressures Miyamura, is actually a pretty good representation of how one starts to explore their kinks in a new relationship. It would be too much to expect Hori to know how to communicate about these things perfectly right off the bat. Yes it's not quite right that Miyamura is made to go along with it, or that he feels that if he doesn't, he could not be in a relationship with Hori, but these are genuine feelings that people often have when first entering relationships, especially ones that involve the intensity of kink.

Other reviews have claimed this is just the author inserting her kinks into the anime without thought. I think that is uncharitable, although I see where it comes from. There is no improvement in the way Hori expresses her desires throughout the anime and zero indication this is a bad thing apart from how it makes Miyamura feel. Ideally it would have been addressed, but this is of course a 13 episode anime. This could easily be rescued in a second season.

Another theme that definitely could have been explored in more detail is queer relationships.

Throughout Horimiya, the characters are trying to form meaningful connections with each other despite social pressures to like or not like certain people, or how to behave or not behave. The show does this really well in fact and it's one of my favourite things about it.

This is why the lack of queer relationships really bothers me be. Because they are consistently hinted, but all pairings in the end are male/female. Hori even finds it unpleasant to consider the fact that Miyamura might like guys. Queer relationships go excellently with the theme of loving someone as your real self. Also polyamorous relationships although I get that is a bigger ask since I've only ever seen one anime that had that. Sakura + Yoshikawa + Ishikawa would work really well, especially with the aforementioned idea of not being good enough and the consistent way the show cures it.

Lastly, let's talk about characters. Characters and themes are hard to untangle, but it is time to start discussing the characterisation in more detail which is one of the show's stronger points. Miyamura has the strongest characterisation (and the most distinct visual design to go with it); he begins lonely, and becomes sociable. But actually it's more nuanced than that; he interacts differently with every group of friends he has and his interactions with each group change over the course of the show. Impressively, this is done in a way consistent with Miyamura's internal logic. He is crude with his oldest friend, he is romantic and pining with Hori, is his polite and friendly with his new friends. As the show progresses he becomes bolder in interacting with Hori, more relaxed around new friends, and is consistent to his old ones.

The most powerful part of the whole show, I feel, is Miyamaru's reflections on his former isolation which is a shame because it only comes in bits and pieces; he comments on it himself in the final episodes, that he had been ignoring who he used to be. This makes sense; sometimes one's life changes and you have to adapt before you know what's happening. My favourite scene is when Miyamura contemplates what his life would be like if he hadn't met Hori; he is aware it was just a coincidence, of the fragility of his happiness.

Hori's character is the second most well developed, but is less overall emotional.

The side characters get much less development, which is to be expected for the constraints of 13 episodes. Within these constraints they do get their own little arcs though which serve to support the main themes of the show.

Overall, this show left me feeling cautiously hopeful about building relationships with others. It's not as easy as the show makes it out to be, but it certainly makes me feel like I could have something a bit like a close network of friends where everyone is generally comfortable around each other.

Oh and the animation is gorgeous too.