By Michael Talibard
WE don’t talk about death, do we? Well, we should, as the inspiring Simon Boas has been teaching us this past year. I will return to this topic, very relevant to age discrimination, but here are some first thoughts. I will now define and explore death aversion, and then go on to say what it has to do with ageism.
Death aversion is the false notion that death is the worst thing that can happen to you, and the pretence that you can somehow avoid it. A death-averse society will demand that its health service prioritise longevity over quality of life. That’s what we do. A death-averse society will enact only stunted assisted-dying legislation: that’s what we have done (see below). A death-averse society will postpone as many deaths as it can, thus ensuring that more of its citizens end up in a care home and/or with dementia.
At the dinner table, my wife Helen and I often make mention of that obscure body, the salt police. When a shop-bought ready meal is tasteless, we will remark, “I think the salt police have been at this.” Feeling curious as to official thinking on the matter, I once looked it all up.
Question one: Why does the government want us to consume less salt? Answer, because we will be less likely to die of a cardiovascular disease.
Question two: Why does the government want us to die of something other than a cardiovascular disease?
We all have to die of something, and the statisticians tell us that it’s very likely to be one of just three or four things. The most common causes of death used to be cardio, followed by cancer, and then infectious diseases. But modern medicine has changed all that, and by 2022, dementia had become the leading cause of death in the UK. But if I had the choice, or in so far as I might be able to rebalance the probabilities, I would opt for cardiovascular over the others. I certainly don’t want to end my days going gaga in a care home. So I sprinkle the salt.
The answer to my second question – why does the government want us to die of something other than cardiovascular? – is that it doesn’t, really. It’s just that the cardiovascular people want to get the deaths off their patch, so they tell us how to minimise their chosen risks, and government backs them. But so, of course, do the cancer people want fewer deaths, so they put out their advice and government backs them too. And so for every other sort of specialist.
Does government want to pretend that nobody has to die? Or have they simply not thought things through? Government seems to be mindlessly death averse, behaving as though everything could be staved off. In this, it truly represents the nation, who mostly think like that too. Or at any rate the young and especially the middle-aged portion of our population think like that.
Research by Lumen Learning (an American academic outfit) confirms what we all know: that attitudes to death typically change radically as we age.
“Those in middle adulthood report more fear of death than those in either early or late adulthood.” And as for us oldies: “Contrary to the belief that because they are closer to death, they must fear death, those in late adulthood have lower fears of death than other adults.” But sadly, I would say, it is those fearful ones in middle adulthood who get to take all the relevant decisions.
Older people are naturally less death-averse. When you are 35, it is probably just natural to see death as the worst thing that could happen to you, but that’s not so when you are 81, as I can testify. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t want to die just yet, not at all. But it’s absolutely not the worst thing I can foresee.
Several things are worse than death: things such as suffering, loss of dignity, and so on. But if you believe that death is the worst, then you will prioritise longevity, and support only Route 1 of our assisted-dying proposals (with eligible candidates having six months left to live, or 12 in the case of neurodegenerative conditions), telling yourself that such patients will soon die anyway, so you have not curtailed life too much.
The average age of patients receiving such assistance in countries that allow it is 75. The average age of our current States Members is 56 (middle adulthood). They are a little younger than the previous cohort, and perhaps too young to see the issue as we oldies do. No wonder, then, that they proved themselves in May 2024 to be more conservative and less compassionate than their predecessors. Yes, I know they are all individuals, and many did get it right: but collectively, they funked it.
-
Michael Talibard, who is now in his 80s, is a retired teacher and former head of English at Victoria College. He founded the Jersey branch of U3A and was its chairman for 20 years.
