Have you ever wondered why we have a desire to live longer? People have chased it for what seems like forever, with varying results. Do you remember Ponce de Leon? He thought he’d found the fountain of youth in Florida; his efforts even earned him a statue in St. Augustine. Of course, he was chasing eternal youth. These days, we’re a bit more rational – or are we?
Western culture is obsessed with youth. We worship it. No one wants to feel – or, God forbid, look – like they’re aging. And who can blame them?
In Eastern society, aging is associated with wisdom. Young people are expected to respect and care for their elders, who are seen as important members of the family. Grandparents are often heads of households, playing a critical role in raising the next generation.
Not so in the West. If the media is any indication, we prefer youth to wisdom. We’d rather read articles with titles like 30 Under 30 than 30 with Wisdom.
The quest to live longer
Maybe that’s because we associate aging with loss: of our strength and vitality, our health, and eventually our independence. Few of us can realistically hope that our adult children will be available to look after us when we can’t drive a car or remember to take our pills. That means living in a nursing home – or, if we’re lucky, a nice senior community – without our families or any real sense of purpose.
Given our current black-and-white view of youth and aging, you’d think we’d all want to die while we’re still young enough to enjoy ourselves before the losses pile up. But we don’t. Most of us want to live to a ripe old age.
Why is that?
I think there are many reasons. On the positive side, living longer allows us to enjoy what we’ve worked for, whether that’s a house on the beach, the chance to see the world or meaningful relationships. But I’m convinced there’s more.
The way I see it, our society’s focus on longevity is less than healthy, mainly because it comes from some less-than-healthy mental patterns. I think some of them will surprise you … but let’s start with the more obvious issues.
Fear of Death?
I know, I know. We’re hardwired to fear death – survival of the species and all that. But with so many of us believing in things like reincarnation, an afterlife, and even higher dimensions, you’d think we’d be less afraid of ending this particular experience.
Most of our religions and spiritual traditions tell us that the soul is eternal. Even science tells us that energy, unlike matter, cannot be destroyed. If you believe you have a soul, and you suspect the scientists are right (Can you imagine destroying pure energy?), it makes sense to believe the soul lives on.
If you believe in reincarnation, then death isn’t the end. Sure, you’d lose your memories of this life. But you’d keep your consciousness, which is your very essence. And who knows – maybe you could come back once the next generation has sorted out a few things!
So what’s going on? Do we believe in our hearts of hearts that there’s nowhere else to go? Or do we just want to hold on to what we’ve got?
That brings us to our next mental pattern: fear of the unknown.
Fear of the Unknown and Our Need for Control
With all of our spiritual beliefs, you’d think we’d see the death of our bodies as a new beginning. That should be exciting – almost something to look forward to! So why isn’t it?
I think it’s because we’re afraid of the unknown. It’s bad enough to have no control over something, but not being able to see what we can’t control is almost intolerable. That makes sense from an evolutionary perspective. The unknown could kill a caveman, whether it came in the form of a sabretooth tiger or a poisonous berry.
While the details have changed, we’re still terrified of the unknown. So much so that being unable to predict pain can be harder on us than the pain itself. How’s that for crazy?
If you don’t believe me, maybe you’ll believe David Robson, science writer and author of The Expectation Effect. In his post on BBC Worklife, he shared the results of experiments around the effects of uncertainty. Studies showed that people found a small shock more unpleasant when they didn’t know when it was coming – not too surprising. But something to wrap your head around: Another study found that a guaranteed, 100% chance of a shock was less stressful than a 50% chance! (1)
Is our need to live longer a fear of the unknown?
In other words, the inability to predict pain can be harder on us than the pain itself.
Our desire to avoid uncertainty isn’t limited to unpleasant events. In another study, people were given the opportunity to win a small amount of money based on a random, computer-generated result. They were given the option of waiting a few seconds for the results or getting them right away. Waiting would get them a better chance of winning and a larger prize, yet only 37% of the participants had the discipline to wait on every trial. (1) It seems a few seconds of uncertainty was a few too many.
Maybe our fear of the unknown drives us to chase longevity.
The longer we live, the longer we put off that unknowable, uncontrollable future. Death is, after all, the ultimate unknown. Even if you’re sure you’re coming back, you don’t know what your next life will be like. You could be poor or sick. You could get stuck in a toxic relationship. Or you could be one of the few survivors of a nuclear war, fighting to survive on a scorched planet.
Fear of getting older?
That’s a pretty dark perspective. What if you’re more of a “glass half full” type of person?
“That won’t happen to me!”
In The Optimism Bias, neuroscientist Tali Sharot makes the case that healthy people have a somewhat overly optimistic view of themselves and their futures. She goes so far as to say that a lack of positive illusions (about ourselves, not others) is a sign of depression. Psychologists even have a name for it: depressive realism.
So when we imagine ourselves getting older, we may see a healthy person who’s made some relatively minor adjustments for age: needing a little more sleep, going on shorter hikes, and being a bit more careful about what we eat and drink. Being lonely or unwell simply isn’t part of that picture.
But what if things aren’t going so well? What if we’re not particularly healthy or happy? Wouldn’t that put a damper on our optimism and push us in the direction of “Enough is enough!”?
Apparently not. Those positive illusions apply to our talents and skills, as well as the degree of control we have over our lives. If things aren’t so great right now, we just need time to make them better. As long as death seems far away, we can justify our optimism. There’s plenty of time for change.
Longevity saves the day once more.
Stuck in the Future
Whether we’re worried about nuclear war or feeling overly optimistic about our ability to age gracefully, we’re not in the present moment. Personally, I think that’s our biggest problem.
Don’t get me wrong: If you’re living a happy, fulfilling life, you certainly won’t want it to end early. But people get to be that happy by focusing on the here and now. Seneca, a Roman philosopher and advisor to Emperor Nero, put it well (2):
“They lose the day in expectation of the night, and the night in fear of the dawn.”
In other words, we can focus so much on the future – and longevity is all about the future – that we forget to live.
We learn this way of “living” from an early age. First, we study hard, so we can get a good job someday. Then we put up with jobs we don’t like, so we can pay the bills. Enjoying our work is secondary (at best).
We keep ourselves going by believing it will all be worth it in the end. When we’re young, we tell ourselves that we’ll get a better job – or that we’ll be happy when we’re raising a family. If that doesn’t work, we look forward to holidays and vacations – and, once enough time has gone by, to retirement. But as long as we’re living for tomorrow, we won’t be happy.
What’s better than looking forward to a longer life?
Of course, the future won’t look after itself. We have to do things now to ensure our future health, financial security, and anything else that will matter to us later on. But once we establish those habits, we need to bring our attention back to the present.
Whether you’re looking for happiness or meaning (or both) in life, it’s time to start finding – or better yet, creating – that experience now. In other words, plan for a long tomorrow… but live for today.