tag:theconversation.com,2011:/ca/topics/death-and-dying-series-13094/articles
Death and Dying series – The Conversation
2019-06-24T12:47:49Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/114724
2019-06-24T12:47:49Z
2019-06-24T12:47:49Z
Not all Americans have a fair path to a good death – racial disparities are real
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280583/original/file-20190620-149835-1klmhwo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Not everyone has a chance to die in peace and dignity.</span> </figcaption></figure><p>What does it mean to “die well”?</p>
<p>The world got an idea recently from the 92-year-old Buddhist monk and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh, who popularized mindfulness and meditation in the U.S. The monk <a href="https://theconversation.com/thich-nhat-hanh-the-buddhist-monk-who-introduced-mindfulness-to-the-west-prepares-to-die-111142">returned to his home in Vietnam</a> to pass his remaining years. Many admired his desire to live his remaining time in peace and dignity.</p>
<p>Researchers from the University of California, San Diego <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4828197/pdf/nihms768333.pdf">recently did a literature search</a> to understand what Americans might consider to be a “good death” or “successful dying.” As can be expected, their findings varied. People’s views were determined by their religious, social and cultural norms and influences. The researchers urged health care providers, caregivers and the lay community to have open dialogues about preferences for the dying process. </p>
<p>As <a href="http://www.daniellelbeattymoodyphd.org/">scholars who study social health</a> and <a href="https://www.jasonashe.com/">human services psychology</a>, we found something missing in these conversations – how race impacts life span. </p>
<p>It’s important to recognize that not everyone has an equal chance at “dying well.”</p>
<h2>Black population and ill health</h2>
<p>Take the disease burden of the African American population.</p>
<p>African Americans experience an earlier onset and greater risk of what may be referred to as <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5687082/">lifestyle-related diseases</a>, including cardiovascular disease, stroke and diabetes. More than 40% of African Americans over the age of 20 <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/hus14.pdf">are diagnosed with high blood pressure</a>, compared to 32% of all Americans. </p>
<p>In addition, the <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/stroke/facts.htm">Centers for Disease Control and Prevention</a> reports that the likelihood of experiencing a first stroke is nearly twice as high for African Americans compared with whites. African Americans are <a href="https://www.ahajournals.org/doi/10.1161/01.STR.28.1.15">more than two times more likely to experience a stroke</a> before the age of 55. At age 45, the mortality rate from stroke is <a href="https://www.ahajournals.org/doi/10.1161/STROKEAHA.111.625343">three times higher for blacks compared to whites</a>. </p>
<p>This disease burden consequently leads to their higher mortality rates and overall <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK367645/#mortality">shorter life expectancy</a> for blacks compared to whites. </p>
<p>And while the life expectancy gap differs by only a few years, <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr67/nvsr67_05.pdf">75.3 for blacks and 78.9 for whites as of 2016</a>, research suggests that <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5687082/">African Americans suffer more sickness</a>. This is due in part to the increased prevalence of <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4108512/">high blood pressure</a>, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3901988/">obesity</a> and <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/29279935">diabetes</a> in this population. </p>
<p>Genetics, biological factors and lifestyle behaviors, such as diet and smoking, help explain <a href="https://www.ahajournals.org/doi/10.1161/CIR.0000000000000534">a portion of these differences</a>. However, researchers are still learning how race-related social experiences and physical environments affect health, illness and mortality. </p>
<h2>Access to health care</h2>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280563/original/file-20190620-149822-1q3o7a7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">African Americans have historically underutilized preventative health services.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/high-angle-view-young-african-woman-342229502?src=ytl5lxYV02JFu5YvKYfyTA-1-43&studio=1">Andrey_Popov</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One factor is that African Americans have historically <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2796316/">underutilized</a> preventive medicine and health care services. They also delay seeking routine, necessary health care – or may not follow medical advice. </p>
<p>One <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11606-004-0008-x">study</a> found that during an average month, 35% fewer blacks visited a physician’s office, and 27% fewer visited an outpatient clinic compared with whites. </p>
<p>“The only time I go to the doctor is when something is really hurting. But otherwise, I don’t even know my doctor’s name,” said a young African American male during a <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2569257/">research study</a> in Chicago, Illinois. </p>
<p>There are reasons for this mistrust. Researchers who study medical mistrust argue that <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/pdfplus/10.2105/AJPH.87.11.1773">high-profile cases of medical experiments</a> are <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2006.100131">still playing a role</a> in how African Americans view health care systems and providers. In the past, physicians have intentionally done harm against people of color. A well-known case is the <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/tuskegee/timeline.htm">Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis</a> in African American men, which lasted from 1932 to 1972. </p>
<p>In this clinical study, 399 African American men, who had already contracted syphilis, were told that they were receiving free health care from the government. In fact, doctors, knowing their critical condition, were awaiting their deaths to subsequently conduct autopsies and study the disease’s progression. </p>
<p>Even though penicillin had been proven to treat syphilis by 1947, these men were denied the treatment. </p>
<h2>Why discrimination matters for health</h2>
<p>Other studies suggest that <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2569322/">regardless of their knowledge of past medical abuse</a>, many African Americans have <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1093/phr/118.4.358">low levels of trust</a> in medical establishments. </p>
<p>“Doctors, like all other people, are subject to prejudice and discrimination,” writes <a href="http://www.damontweedy.com/">Damon Tweedy</a>, author of <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/Black_Man_in_a_White_Coat.html?id=H5gQjwEACAAJ&source=kp_book_description">“Black Man in a White Coat: A Doctor’s Reflections on Race and Medicine.”</a> “While bias can be a problem in any profession, in medicine, the stakes are much higher.”</p>
<p>Unfortunately, these fears are underscored by empirical evidence that African Americans are less likely to receive <a href="https://www.pnas.org/content/113/16/4296.short">pain medication management</a>, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/25032386">higher-quality care</a> or <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5995336/">survive surgical procedures</a>. </p>
<p>In addition, a growing body of literature has established that experiences of discrimination are extremely harmful for <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/135910539700200305">physical and mental health</a>, particularly <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/fulltext/1999-11644-001.html">among African Americans</a>. </p>
<p>This research adds to the body of evidence that experiences of discrimination <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/buy/2009-09537-003">harm people’s health</a> and may contribute to the increased rates of premature decline and death among blacks.</p>
<h2>What does it take to die well?</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=436&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=436&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=436&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=547&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=547&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280564/original/file-20190620-149806-ppkjkn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=547&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">African Americans are exposed to more frequent death of loved ones.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/black-white-portrait-tearful-africanamerican-woman-441280438?src=8uaY2CkNN8c_HEJPZJTmIQ-1-0&studio=1">Laurin Rinder</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As African American scholars, we argue the “art of dying well” may be a distant and romantic notion for the African American community. </p>
<p>African Americans are also exposed to earlier and <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/28115712">more frequent deaths</a> of close loved ones, immediate family members and friends.</p>
<p>Their increased <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/Passed_On.html?id=v5qFDwAAQBAJ&source=kp_book_description">“vulnerability to untimely deaths</a>,” writes Duke University scholar <a href="https://www.karlaholloway.com/">Karla Holloway</a>, shows African Americans’ lack of access to equitable and fair paths in life. </p>
<p>Before defining “a good death,” American society must first begin to fundamentally address how to promote quality living and longevity across all racial groups.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/114724/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jason Ashe receives funding from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Danielle L. Beatty Moody receives funding from NIH </span></em></p>
There are many conversations these days around ‘successful dying.’ Two African American scholars argue why these conversations need to include race and how it impacts life span.
Jason Ashe, Doctoral Student (Ph.D.), Human Services Psychology, University of Maryland, Baltimore County
Danielle L. Beatty Moody, Assistant Professor, Behavioral Medicine & Community Psychology Subprograms, University of Maryland, Baltimore County
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/87981
2017-11-22T20:09:05Z
2017-11-22T20:09:05Z
Who will bury Charles Manson?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195931/original/file-20171122-6035-1qdnthm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A tangle of rules govern what to do when a California inmate dies.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Charles Manson, the wild-eyed cult leader <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/how-beatles-inspired-charles-manson-commit-his-1969-murders-716938">who claimed inspiration</a> for an apocalyptic race war from the Beatles’ “White Album,” <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/20/obituaries/charles-manson-dead.html">died</a> in Kern County, California, on Nov. 19 at the age of 83. </p>
<p>Journalist Joan Didion wrote that for many of her friends in Los Angeles, “the 60s ended abruptly on Aug. 9, 1969,” the day of the <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/culture/news/charles-manson-dead-at-83-w458873">Tate-LaBianca murders</a>, in which Manson and his “family” killed seven people, including pregnant actor Sharon Tate.</p>
<p>While the cultural impact of Charles Manson’s life and horrific actions will not soon be forgotten, the pressing concern right now is how we’ll choose to acknowledge his death. More specifically, what will happen to his remains?</p>
<p>It’s a question that often comes up when a notorious criminal dies. Osama bin Laden, for example, was buried at sea, <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/asiapcf/05/02/bin.laden.burial.at.sea/index.html">reportedly in part</a> so that a grave wouldn’t become a shrine for terrorists. </p>
<p>It turns out, however, that the answer is more complicated that it would appear at first glance, particularly when the death happens in a prison in California. I study funeral and cemetery law and also happen to be a licensed funeral director in California, yet I’m still surprised by the inconsistency in the state’s law governing death. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195935/original/file-20171122-6039-152rlhb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The body of actress Sharon Tate is taken from her rented house on Cielo Drive in Beverly Hills, Calif., on Aug. 9, 1969. Tate, who was eight months pregnant, was among those found murdered by Manson and his followers.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>When a person dies in California</h2>
<p>When a person dies in California – regardless of where he or she lived – the state’s <a href="http://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/codes_displayText.xhtml?lawCode=HSC&division=7.&title=&part=1.&chapter=3.&article=">health and safety code</a> determines who has “the right to control the disposition of the remains of a deceased person, the location and conditions of interment and arrangements for funeral goods and services to be provided.” </p>
<p><a href="http://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/codes_displayText.xhtml?lawCode=HSC&division=7.&title=&part=1.&chapter=3.&article=">California law</a> grants that right to the following persons, in order of priority: a person appointed by the decedent, spouse, adult children, parents, adult siblings and other adults in the “next degrees of kinship.” </p>
<p>If a family member steps up, then the expense of the funeral and burial or cremation will be paid for by the decedent’s estate, if he or she left property. If the decedent died without property, then the family member bears the cost or could apply for an indigent assistance program like the one <a href="http://www.kernsheriff.com/documents/coroner/County_Cremation.pdf">offered in Kern County</a>, where Manson died.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195936/original/file-20171122-6016-1kbg04q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">It’s possible that Manson’s body will end up on a hard, cold slab in a medical school.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Martha Irvine</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Calling all cadavers</h2>
<p>When a person dies in the state without any assets, which is almost certainly true of Manson, another law kicks in. </p>
<p>In those case, the <a href="http://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/codes_displayText.xhtml?lawCode=HSC&division=7.&title=&part=1.&chapter=4.&article=">state has the right</a> to send them to a medical school, chiropractic school or a mortuary science program to be used for scientific or educational purposes.</p>
<p>The majority of states have <a href="https://wfulawpolicyjournaldotcom.files.wordpress.com/2016/05/culler_invisible_dead.pdf">statutes similar to this one</a>. When medical schools <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4582158/">began using cadavers</a> to teach future doctors in the 1700s, they had difficulty obtaining a sufficient supply of dead bodies from willing donors. As a result, grave robbery became a <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2016/05/15/nyregion/new-york-mass-graves-hart-island.html">significant problem</a> in both the United States and Europe. Medical students were often tasked with obtaining cadavers on their own and would dig up fresh graves. </p>
<p>In response, the states began creating statutes in the mid-1800s that gave bodies that would otherwise be buried at public expense to medical schools. The idea was that supplying cadavers legally would destroy the incentive to commit grave robbery. That turned out to be correct, but as a result most states still have laws like the one in California, which can come as a shock. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=334&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=334&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=334&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/195937/original/file-20171122-6039-1cj2an4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=419&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">When inmates like those at Corcoran State Prison die, conflicting laws kick in that govern what happens to their remains.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Ben Margot</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>When inmates die</h2>
<p>Manson died in a hospital while in the custody of the California Department of Corrections. A couple of specific laws apply to inmate deaths, and surprisingly those laws contradict each other and the general rules.</p>
<p>A Department of Corrections regulation states that every inmate <a href="https://govt.westlaw.com/calregs/Document/I009B5F10F2BD11E3AD09E1D84304E27A?viewType=FullText&originationContext=documenttoc&transitionType=CategoryPageItem&contextData=(sc.Default)">must annually identify</a> his or her next of kin on a form called “Notification in Case of Inmate Death.” </p>
<p>Assuming that Manson had one or more living family members and identified them on the notification form, then the department must attempt to notify the listed individual(s) in person, if practical, and, if not, by telephone and offer “consolation.” After 10 days, a body is deemed “<a href="http://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/codes_displaySection.xhtml?sectionNum=5061.&lawCode=PEN">unclaimed</a>.”</p>
<p>The rule, however, is inconsistent with the law regarding the rights of the next of kin to make decisions about disposition because it suggests that only the kin named on the notification form has rights.</p>
<p>The Department of Corrections has not indicated whether Manson actually completed this form or who his next of kin may be. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/20/obituaries/charles-manson-dead.html">According to The New York Times</a>, Manson was married twice. Both marriages ended in divorce. He was believed to have fathered at least two children, but The New York Times describes the subject of his descendants as one “which rumor and urban legend have long coalesced.” </p>
<p>The New York Daily News reported that the only self-identified descendant of Manson is 41-year-old <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/charles-manson-grandson-hopes-give-proper-burial-article-1.3647218">Jason Freeman</a>, the son of Charles Manson Jr., who committed suicide in 1993. Freeman <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/charles-manson-grandson-hopes-give-proper-burial-article-1.3647218">told the newspaper</a> that he was “going to move towards having a proper burial.”</p>
<p>It’s not clear, however, whether Manson, who had never met Freeman in person, listed him on his notification form. They reportedly had some telephone contact. </p>
<p>If Manson’s remains are not claimed by Freeman or another family member, then what will happen to his body? Although California law and the Department of Corrections regulation state that it should be made available for scientific study, <a href="http://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/codes_displayText.xhtml?lawCode=PEN&division=&title=7.&part=3.&chapter=2.&article=">a different California statute</a> requires unclaimed inmate remains to be buried or cremated.</p>
<p>Because of all this inconsistency, it’s unclear whether the law intended to give the family members of deceased inmates fewer rights than everyone else.</p>
<h2>Anonymous grave or anatomy lab</h2>
<p>Manson’s remains were last known to be in the possession of the Kern County coroner, according to <a href="http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-ln-charles-manson-body-20171120-story.html">the Los Angeles Times</a>. </p>
<p>Even if Freeman was named in Manson’s notification form and claims him in a timely manner, he may still encounter some difficulty in obtaining a typical funeral and burial for his notorious grandfather. </p>
<p>After Tamerlan Tsarnaev, one of the two brothers believed to have committed the Boston Marathon bombings in 2013, was killed by police, his uncle managed to locate a funeral home willing to handle the remains – amid picketing by the families of his victims – but had a <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/tanya-d-marsh/burying-tamerlan-tsarnaev_b_3215892.html">very difficult time finding a cemetery</a> willing to bury the remains. Eventually, Tsarnaev’s remains were removed from Massachusetts in the middle of the night and <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/tsarnaev-burial-saga_b_3249151.html">interred in a Muslim cemetery</a> in Virginia.</p>
<p>So what does this all mean for Charles Manson? If Freeman can claim possession of the body, it’ll be up to him to find a funeral home willing to handle the mass murderer’s remains and potentially a graveyard or crematory willing to take them. If no other kin comes to light, an anonymous box of Manson’s remains may find a home at the communal crypt at <a href="http://www.bakersfield.com/news/county-pays-burial-costs-for-people-who-can-t-afford/article_36026592-ad33-5cb2-9e89-8186f9cac16d.html">Union Cemetery in Bakersfield</a>. </p>
<p>Alternatively, it’s very possible that medical students in California may find a familiar-looking cadaver in gross anatomy lab next semester.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/87981/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tanya D. Marsh does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
If no one claims the remains of cult leader and killer Charles Manson, it’s unclear what will happen to his body. Will it find an anonymous California grave or face dissection in an anatomy lab?
Tanya D. Marsh, Professor of Law, Wake Forest University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/86194
2017-11-15T00:13:47Z
2017-11-15T00:13:47Z
Learning to care for dying’s forgotten
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193258/original/file-20171103-1017-du9y2z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Surviving friends and family of a person who dies often go through deep grief. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/lonely-man-alone-empty-room-518908273?src=XF4yNh3WzLNDW2U4wTS2Qw-1-2">Ker_vil/Shutterstock.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In most U.S. medical schools, lessons about death naturally focus on the care of the dying patient. But there is another group of people to whom health professionals need to learn to attend: the dying patient’s family and friends. In nearly every case, mortality’s collateral damage reaches more widely and endures longer than the patient’s travails, which cease at the moment of death.</p>
<p>Our preoccupation with the dying patient is not difficult to understand. For one thing, medical students are taught to put the patient first, which means others come second. Moreover, revenues and quality measures in health care revolve around the patient. As a result, grieving family and friends may languish in neglect, particularly in the weeks and months after a patient has died.</p>
<p>Consider these words of the daughter of a deceased elderly patient I know. “The whole time Dad was in the intensive care unit, the doctors and nurses seemed more interested in the machines than in us. When they talked to us, it was always because a medical decision had to be made. They never asked us how we were doing. After Dad died, we never heard from them or the hospital again.”</p>
<p>Such complaints are not rare, in part because death is such a ubiquitous fact of daily life. About 2.6 million Americans die <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/fastats/deaths.htm">every year</a>, which works out to an average of 7,200 deaths per day and 300 deaths per hour. If people were dying at home, health professionals might have little opportunity to care for the grieving, but 63 percent of <a href="http://www.apa.org/pi/aging/programs/eol/end-of-life-factsheet.aspx">Americans</a> die in hospitals and another 17 percent in chronic care facilities.</p>
<p>To help health professionals in training learn to care effectively for the grieving, it is important first to help them understand what it is like to grapple with the loss of a loved one. Many students are too young to have known such losses themselves, which can make it difficult to see death from the point of view of those left behind.</p>
<h2>The role of literature</h2>
<p>In my teaching of students at the Indiana University School of Medicine, I have found that some of the most important lessons on the care of the grieving lie not in medical textbooks but in great works of literature. By enabling us to experience grief vicariously, <a href="https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/novel-finding-reading-literary-fiction-improves-empathy/">literature</a> can enrich our moral imaginations, enabling us to care more compassionately.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193259/original/file-20171103-1061-dnoyhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Anton Chekhov.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/download/confirm/238057606?src=r_b7GAiWiRrYF2xyDxOj3g-1-1&size=small_jpg">Everett Historical/Shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
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<p>One of literature’s greatest explorers of grief was the Russian writer, Anton Chekhov (1860-1904). He is typically <a href="https://www.ranker.com/list/best-playwrights-ever/ranker-books">ranked</a> among the top playwrights in history, second only to Shakespeare, and he is equally highly regarded as a short story writer. Chekhov was not only a writer but also a practicing physician who cared for many dying patients over the course of his career.</p>
<p>In writing about death and loss, Chekhov knew his subject well, having grappled with the prospect of losing his own life and the deaths of loved ones. Just after completing medical school, he was <a href="http://people.brandeis.edu/%7Eteuber/chekhovbio.html">diagnosed</a> with the disease that would eventually take his life, tuberculosis. He also experienced a deep depression after the death of his brother Nikolay from the same disease in 1889.</p>
<h2>Chekhov’s ‘Misery’</h2>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/193260/original/file-20171103-1020-btggec.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Grief can be especially hard when no one is there to listen.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/stressed-businessman-sitting-stairway-outdoorbankrupt-outdoor-569791687?src=iqmjBWjN1HpYhpr-YJ45hQ-1-3">thatreec/Shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One of Chekhov’s masterworks is a 2,000-word gem entitled simply <a href="https://genius.com/Anton-chekhov-misery-full-text-annotated">“Misery.” </a> It tells the story of an old driver of a horse-drawn cab whose adult son has died just a week before. The cabbie wants “to tell how his son was taken ill, how he suffered, what he said before he died, how he died…He wants to describe the funeral…Yes, he has plenty to talk about.” But no one will listen.</p>
<p>Instead, the cabbie’s passengers think only of themselves. One hears the beginning of his story and asks what the son died of, but turns out to be preoccupied with his own affairs. His next fare, a trio of brazen young men, are so preoccupied by boasts of their revelry that they might as well be deaf, pausing only to berate the cabbie for driving too slowly.</p>
<p>In response to their complaints, the old man laments, “The only wife for me now is the damp earth… The grave that is!… Here my son’s dead and I am alive… It’s a strange thing, death has come in at the wrong door… Instead of coming for me it went for my son.” The contrast between the cabbie’s desolation and the carousers’ indifference heightens our appreciation for his melancholy.</p>
<p>In the end, the old man can find no one to talk to but his horse. “My son said good-bye to me… He went and died for no reason… Now, suppose you had a little colt, and you were mother to that little colt… And all at once that same little colt went and died… You’d be sorry, wouldn’t you?” </p>
<p>As the story concludes and the old man is carried away by his tale, the mare simply stands at his side, munching her hay.</p>
<h2>Lessons for health professions students</h2>
<p>The lessons for health professionals in training are unmistakable. Those of us who care for the dying must take care lest we become so preoccupied with our own affairs that we fail to hear what our patient’s loved ones need to tell us. We can get so distracted by the needs of the patient and the complex apparatus of contemporary care that we cease to attend to the grieving.</p>
<p>Like life itself, dying is better conceived as a journey than a destination, and it is an odyssey no less for the grieving than the deceased. The to-do lists of health professionals seem to be growing longer every year, and sometimes they loom so large in our field of view that we lose sight of those who need our care. Good literature reminds us not to mistake the record for the reality.</p>
<p>When students study Chekhov’s masterpiece for themselves, read it aloud to each other and take the time to plumb its depths in discussion, they gain a deeper appreciation for what it means for suffering human beings to carry around in their hearts an experience that they desperately need to share with someone else. Having felt it for themselves, the students can better recognize and respond to someone else in the same state.</p>
<p>Of course, health professionals are not the only ones capable of such compassion. Simply by virtue of our humanity, each of us shares the capacity to listen with genuine concern to the story of another human being in distress. We cannot undo this world’s misery, but each of us can lighten the load by serving as a sympathetic ear when the grieving need to share their stories.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86194/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Richard Gunderman does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
When a patient dies, grieving family and friends too often languish in neglect.
Richard Gunderman, Chancellor's Professor of Medicine, Liberal Arts, and Philanthropy, Indiana University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/86199
2017-11-01T18:41:22Z
2017-11-01T18:41:22Z
What ancient cultures teach us about grief, mourning and continuity of life
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192842/original/file-20171101-19894-tr4qsg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Day of the dead at a Mexican cemetery. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ADay_of_the_dead_at_mexican_cemetery_4.jpg">© Tomas Castelazo, www.tomascastelazo.com / Wikimedia Commons, via Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>At this time of the year, <a href="https://www.rutgersuniversitypress.org/day-%20%20of%20%20-the-dead-%20%20in%20%20-the-usa/9780813548579">Mexican and Mexican-American communities</a> observe <a href="https://cup.columbia.edu/book/days-%20%20of%20%20-death-days-%20%20of%20%20-life/9780231136891">“Día de los Muertos” (the Day of the Dead)</a>, a three-day celebration that welcomes the dead temporarily back into families. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=627&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=627&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=627&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=787&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=787&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192850/original/file-20171101-19850-1a2eow3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=787&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Altar to the dead in Yucatán, Mexico.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Wojcik</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Festivities begin on the evening of Oct. 31 and culminate on Nov. 2. Spirits of the departed are believed to be able to reenter the world of the living for a few brief moments during these days. Altars are created in homes, where photographs and other personal items evocative of the dead are placed. Offerings to the deceased include flowers, incense, images of saints, crucifixes and favorite foods. Family members gather in cemeteries to dine not just among the dead but with them. Similar traditions exist in different cultures with different origins.</p>
<p>As scholars of <a href="https://nyupress.org/books/9780814793480/">death</a> and <a href="http://folklore.uoregon.edu/files/2013/08/Wojcik-Pres-Rock.pdf">mourning rituals</a>, we believe that Día de los Muertos traditions are most likely connected to feasts observed by the ancient Aztecs. Today, they honor the memory of the dead and celebrate the continuity of generations through loving reunion with those who came before. </p>
<p>As Western societies, particularly the United States, move away <a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/death/fond-farewells">from the direct experience of a mourner</a>, the rites and customs of other cultures offer valuable lessons.</p>
<h2>Loss of rituals</h2>
<p>Funerals were handled in the home well into the 20th century in the U.S. and throughout Europe. Sometimes, stylized and elaborate public <a href="http://www.deathreference.com/A-Bi/Ars-Moriendi.html">deathbed rituals</a> were organized by the dying person in advance of the death event itself. As French historian <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/4744/the-hour-of-our-death-by-philipe-aries-translated-from-the-french-by-helen-weaver/9780394751566/">Philippe Ariès</a> writes, throughout much of the Western world, such death rituals declined during the 18th and 19th centuries. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=404&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=404&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=404&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=507&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=507&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192847/original/file-20171101-19883-1c007wt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=507&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The modern funeral industry.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/download/success?src=AsyxxvFFRQzph6vjBqJznw-2-68">Coffin image via www.shutterstock.com</a></span>
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<p>What emerged instead was a greater fear of death and the dead body. Medical advances extended control over death as the <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-lincolns-embrace-of-embalming-birthed-the-american-funeral-industry-86196">funeral industry took over</a> management of the dead. Increasingly, death became hidden from public view. No longer familiar, death became threatening and horrific. </p>
<p>Today, as various <a href="https://jhupbooks.press.jhu.edu/content/western-attitudes-toward-death">scholars</a> and <a href="http://books.wwnorton.com/books/book-template.aspx?aid=4294981525&cid=15147&lastpage=4&currentpage=1">morticians</a> have observed, many in American culture lack the explicit mourning rituals that help people deal with loss.</p>
<h2>Traditions in ancient cultures</h2>
<p>In contrast, the mourning traditions of earlier cultures prescribed precise patterns of behavior that facilitated the public expression of grief and provided support for the bereaved. In addition, they emphasized continued maintenance of personal bonds with the dead.</p>
<p><a href="https://jhupbooks.press.jhu.edu/content/western-attitudes-toward-death">As Ariès explains</a>, during the Middle Ages in Europe, the death event was a public ritual. It involved specific preparations, the presence of family, friends and neighbors, as well as music, food, drinks and games. The social aspect of these customs kept death public and “tame” through the enactment of familiar ceremonies that comforted mourners.</p>
<p>Grief was expressed in an open and unrestrained way that was cathartic and communally shared, very much in contrast with the modern emphasis on controlling one’s emotions and keeping grief private. </p>
<p>In various cultures the outpouring of emotion was not only required but <a href="http://www.cambridge.org/us/academic/subjects/anthropology/social-and-cultural-anthropology/celebrations-death-anthropology-mortuary-ritual-2nd-edition?format=PB&isbn=9780521423755">performed ceremonially</a>, in the form of ritualized weeping accompanied by wailing and shrieking. For example, traditions of the “death wail,” which allowed people to cry their grief aloud, have been documented among the ancient Celts. They exist today among various indigenous peoples of Africa, South America, Asia and <a href="http://sounds.bl.uk/World-and-traditional-music/Ethnographic-wax-cylinders/025M-C0080X1104XX-0100V0#_">Australia</a>. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Song for the dead sung by two women from the Manobo-Dulangan tribe in Mindanao, Philippines.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In a similar way, the traditional Irish and Scottish practices of “<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p04wvgpc">keening</a>,” or loudly wailing for the dead, were vocal expressions of mourning. These emotional forms of sorrow were a powerful way to give voice to the impact of individual loss on the wider community. Mourning was shared and public.</p>
<p>In fact, since antiquity and throughout parts of Europe until recently, professional female mourners were often hired to perform highly emotive <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Dangerous-Voices-Womens-Laments-and-Greek-Literature/Holst-Warhaft/p/book/9780415121651">laments at funerals</a>. </p>
<p>Such customs functioned within a larger mourning tradition to separate the deceased from the world of the living and symbolize the transition to the afterlife. </p>
<h2>Rituals of celebration</h2>
<p>Mourning rituals also celebrated the dead through carnival-like revelry. Among the ancient <a href="http://www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/book/?GCOI=80140100254050">Greeks</a> and <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300217278/death-ancient-rome">Romans</a>, for example, the deceased were honored with lavish feasts and funeral games. </p>
<p>Such practices continue today in many cultures. In Ethiopia, members of the Dorze ethnic community sing and dance before, during and after funerary rites in communal ceremonies meant to defeat death and avenge the deceased. </p>
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</figure>
<p>In not too distant Tanzania, the burial traditions of the Nyakyusa people initially focus on wailing but then include feasts. They also require that participants <a href="http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/02561751.1939.9676088">dance and flirt at the funeral</a>, confronting death with an affirmation of life.</p>
<p>Similar assertions of life in the midst of death are expressed in the example of the traditional Irish “<a href="https://www.irishcentral.com/roots/the-truth-about-the-irish-wake-lewd-songs-pranks-were-part-of-the-tradition-174087771-237533321">merry wake</a>,” a mixture of <a href="http://www.rte.ie/radio1/doconone/2011/0715/646810-radio-documentary-house-strictly-private-irish-wake/">mourning and celebration</a> that honors the deceased. The African-American <a href="http://www.neworleansonline.com/neworleans/multicultural/multiculturaltraditions/jazzfuneral.html">“jazz funeral”</a> processions in New Orleans also combine sadness and festivity, as the solemn parade for the deceased transforms into dance, music and a party-like atmosphere.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EG6KH905cGU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>These lively funerals are expressions of sorrow and laughter, communal catharsis and commemoration that honor the life of the departed. </p>
<h2>A way to deal with grief</h2>
<p>Grief and celebration seem like strange bedfellows at first glance, but both are emotions that overflow. The ritual practices that surround death and mourning as <a href="http://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/R/bo3637677.html">rites of passage</a> help individuals and their communities make sense of loss through a renewed focus on continuity. </p>
<p>By doing things in a culturally defined way – by performing the same acts as ancestors have done – ritual participants engage in venerated traditions to connect with something enduring and eternal. Rituals make boundaries between life and death, the <a href="http://www.hmhco.com/shop/books/The-Sacred-and-the-Profane/9780156792011">sacred and the profane</a>, memory and experience, <a href="https://www.routledge.com/The-Ritual-Process-Structure-and-Anti-Structure/Turner-Abrahams-Harris/p/book/9780202011905">permeable</a>. The dead seem less far away and less forgotten. Death itself becomes more natural and familiar.</p>
<p>Funerary festivities such as Day of the Dead create space for this type of contemplation. As we reminisce over our own losses, that is something we could consider.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86199/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Many in the Western world lack the explicit mourning rituals that help people deal with loss. On Day of the Dead, two scholars describe ancient mourning practices.
Daniel Wojcik, Professor, English and Folklore Studies, University of Oregon
Robert Dobler, Lecturer of Folklore, Indiana University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/85959
2017-10-31T02:16:34Z
2017-10-31T02:16:34Z
What Chinese philosophers can teach us about dealing with our own grief
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192499/original/file-20171030-18704-iwed0k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Confucius sculpture, Nanjing, China.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3AConfucius_Sculpture%2C_Nanjing.jpg">Kevinsmithnyc, via Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>November 2 is All Souls’ Day, when many Christians honor the dead. As much as we all know about the inevitability of death, we are often unable to deal with the loss of a loved one.</p>
<p>Our modern-day worldview could also make us believe that loss is something we should be <a href="https://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/01/10/getting-grief-right/">able to quickly get over</a>, to move on with our lives. Many of us see grieving as a kind of impediment to our ability to work, live and thrive. </p>
<p>As a <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/understanding-asian-philosophy-9781780937700/">scholar of Chinese philosophy</a>, I spend much of my time reading, translating and interpreting early Chinese texts. It is clear that dealing with loss was a major concern for early Chinese philosophers. </p>
<p>So, what can we learn from them today?</p>
<h2>Eliminating grief</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=463&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=463&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=463&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192500/original/file-20171030-18730-11h769f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Zhuangzi butterfly dream.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3AZhuangzi-Butterfly-Dream.jpg">Ike no Taiga (Japan, 1723-1776), via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Two influential philosophers who reflected on these issues were Zhuang Zhou and Confucius. Zhuang Zhou lived in the fourth century B.C. and is traditionally credited with writing one of the most important texts of the Daoist philosophy, <a href="https://terebess.hu/english/chuangtzu.html">“Zhuangzi.”</a> Confucius, who lived more than a century before Zhuang Zhou, had his teachings compiled in a text written by later students, commonly known in the West as the <a href="http://www.indiana.edu/%7Ep374/Analects_of_Confucius_(Eno-2015).pdf">“Analects of Confucius.”</a> </p>
<p>On the face of it, these two philosophers offer very different responses to the “problem” of death. </p>
<p>Zhuang Zhou offers us a way to eliminate grief, seemingly consistent with the desire to quickly get beyond loss. In one <a href="http://ctext.org/zhuangzi/perfect-enjoyment#n2831">story</a>, Zhuang Zhou’s friend Hui Shi meets him just after Zhuang Zhou’s wife of many years has died. He finds Zhuang Zhou singing joyously and beating on a drum. Hui Shi upbraids him and says:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“This person lived with you for many years, and grew old and died. To fail to shed tears is bad enough, but to also beat on drums and sing – is this not inappropriate?”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Zhuang Zhou replies that when his wife first died, he was as upset as anyone would be following such a loss. But then he reflected on the circumstances of her origins – how she came to be through changes in the elements that make up the cosmos. He was able to shift his vision from seeing things from the narrowly human perspective to seeing them from the larger perspective of the world itself. He realized that her death was just another of the changes of the myriad things constantly taking place in the world. Just as the seasons progress, human life generates and decays. </p>
<p>In reflecting on life in this way, Zhuang Zhou’s grief disappeared. </p>
<h2>Why we need grief</h2>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=576&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=576&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192501/original/file-20171030-18720-wgnffr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=576&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Analects.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ARongo_Analects_02.jpg">Confucius and his disciples, via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/168406/summary">For Confucius,</a> though, the pain of grief was a natural and necessary part of human life. It demonstrates commitment to those for whom we grieve.</p>
<p>Confucius suggests <a href="http://ctext.org/liji/tan-gong-i#n9599">a three-year</a> mourning period following the death of one’s parent. In a <a href="http://ctext.org/analects/yang-huo#n1557">passage from the Analects</a>, one of Confucius’s students, Zaiwo, asks him if it is possible to shorten this mourning period, which seems excessively long. </p>
<p>Confucius responds that a person who honestly cared about his parent would simply be unable to bring himself to mourn in any less serious way. For such a person, the usual joys of life just had no attraction for three years. If, like Zaiwo, someone considers shortening this period, it reveals for Confucius <a href="http://ctext.org/analects/yang-huo#n1557">a lack of sufficient concern</a>. Early Confucians, thus, followed this practice of a three-year mourning period.</p>
<h2>Remembering our ancestors</h2>
<p>There is more to the Confucian response to death than grief. Our encounter with others inevitably changes us. Those closest to us, <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/488827">according to the early Confucians</a>, particularly family members, play the greatest role in determining who we are. In that sense, we are representatives of particular communities than detached and autonomous individuals. </p>
<p>After all, many of our physical features and personalities originate from our ancestors. In addition, we learn many of our attitudes, preferences and characteristic ways of acting from our families, friends and neighbors – the creators of our culture. So, when we consider the question of what we are as individuals, the <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/confucian-ethics/tradition-and-community-in-the-formation-of-character-and-self/CCF1EE2580B305B5C4E8D413786DA44C">answer necessarily encompasses</a> members of our closest community.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=383&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=383&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=383&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=482&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=482&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192502/original/file-20171030-18730-18v2z9s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=482&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A Chinese funeral.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3AShanghai._A_Chinese_funeral_(NYPL_Hades-2359270-4043626).jpg">Scan by NYPL, via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>According to the early Confucians, this acknowledgment suggested how to deal with the death of those close to us. To grieve was to honor your parent or another person who died and to commit to <a href="http://ctext.org/analects/li-ren#n1188">following their way of life </a>. </p>
<p>Even if their way of life involved flaws, Confucius notes that individuals were still duty-bound to follow their way while doing their best to <a href="http://ctext.org/analects/li-ren#n1186">eliminate the flaws</a>. In Analects 4.18, <a href="http://ctext.org/analects/li-ren#n1186">Confucius says</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“In serving your parents, you may lightly remonstrate [if your parents stray from the virtuous way]. But even if your parents are intent on not following your advice, you should still remain respectful and not turn away from them.” </p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Developing an understanding of grief</h2>
<p>So how do the seemingly contrasting Daoist and Confucian approaches to grief apply to us today? </p>
<p>From my perspective, both views are helpful. Zhuangzi does not eliminate grief, but offers a way out of it. The Daoist response could help people find peace of mind by cultivating the ability to see the death of loved ones from a broader perspective.</p>
<p>The Confucian response could challenge assumptions that devalue grief. It offers us a way to find meaning in our grief. It reveals our communal influences, tests our commitments and focuses us on the ways in which we represent and carry on those who influenced us and came before us. </p>
<p>Ultimately, both philosophers help us understand that enduring grief is a necessary part of the process of becoming a fully thriving person. It is not something we should look to eliminate, but rather something we should appreciate or even be thankful for.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/85959/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexus McLeod does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The pain of grief is part of human existence. Daoist and Confucian philosophy can help find meaning in grief.
Alexus McLeod, Associate Professor of Philosophy and Asian/Asian American Studies, University of Connecticut
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/85881
2017-10-30T01:53:11Z
2017-10-30T01:53:11Z
How the dead danced with the living in medieval society
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192267/original/file-20171027-13327-i15iaw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Detail of figures from the Dance Macabre, Meslay-le-Grenet, from late 15th-century France. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ashby Kinch</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the <a href="https://theconversation.com/little-known-facts-about-how-halloween-came-to-be-85720">Halloween season</a>, American culture briefly participates in an ancient tradition of making the world of the dead visible to the living: Children dress as skeletons, teens go to horror movies and adults play the part of ghosts in haunted houses. </p>
<p>But what if the dead played a more active, more participatory role in our daily lives? </p>
<p>It might appear to be a strange question, but as a <a href="http://www.brill.com/imago-mortis">scholar of late medieval literature and art</a>, I have found compelling evidence from our past that shows how the dead were well-integrated into people’s sense of community. </p>
<h2>Ancient practices</h2>
<p>In the medieval period, the dead were considered simply <a href="http://www.brill.com/product/out-of-print/pursuit-holiness-late-medieval-and-renaissance-religion">another age group</a>. The blessed dead who were consecrated as saints <a href="http://www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/book/?GCOI=80140100748630">became part of daily ritual life</a> and were expected to intervene to support the community. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=824&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=824&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=824&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1036&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1036&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192261/original/file-20171027-13311-ucakac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1036&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A funeral mass, with mourners, from a Book of Hours.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/ILLUMIN.ASP?Size=mid&IllID=58982">The British Library</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Families offered commemorative prayers to their ancestors, whose names were written in <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/Time_Sanctified.html?id=iK4TAQAAIAAJ">“Books of Hours,”</a> prayer books that guided daily devotion at home. These books included a prayer cycle known as the “Office of the Dead,” which family members could perform to limit the suffering of loved ones after death. </p>
<p>Medieval culture also had its <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/G/bo3619514.html">ghosts</a>, which were closely linked with the theological debate concerning purgatory, the space between heaven and hell, where the dead suffered but could be relieved by the prayers of the living. Folk traditions of the dead visiting the living as ghosts were thus explained as <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/The_Birth_of_Purgatory.html?id=4dzynjFfX7kC">souls pleading</a> for the prayerful devotion of the living. </p>
<h2>When, how practices changed</h2>
<p>The Reformation in Europe <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300108286/stripping-altars">radically changed</a> this cultural interface with the dead. In particular, the idea of a purgatory was rejected by Protestant theologians. </p>
<p>While ghosts persisted in folk stories and literature, the dead were pushed from the center of religious life. In England, these changes were intensified in the period after <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=eamon+duffy+stripping+of+the+altars&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8">Henry VIII broke with the Catholic Church</a> in the 1530s. Thereafter, the veneration of saints and commemorative prayers associated with purgatory were banned. </p>
<p>The dead were also removed from view in more literal ways: Reformation iconoclasts, who wished to purge churches of any association with Catholic practices, “whitewashed” hundreds of church interiors to cover the bold, colorful murals that decorated the medieval parish churches. </p>
<p>One of the more popular mural subjects that I have studied for many years was the <a href="http://www.brepols.net/Pages/ShowProduct.aspx?prod_id=IS-9782503530635-1">Dance of Death</a>: over 100 mural paintings of the theme, as well as dozens of manuscript illuminations, have been identified in England, Estonia, France, Germany, Italy, Spain and Switzerland. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=138&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=138&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=138&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=174&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=174&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192291/original/file-20171027-13378-u5naw9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=174&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bernt Notke, Danse Macabre, Tallinn, Estonia (late 15th century).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ABernt_Notke_Danse_Macabre.jpg">Bernt Notke, via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A powerful metaphor</h2>
<p>Dance of Death murals typically depicted decaying corpses dancing amid representative figures of late medieval society, ranked highest to lowest: a pope, an emperor, a bishop, a king, a cardinal, a knight and down to a beggar, all ambling diffidently toward their mortal end while the corpses frolic with lithe movements and gestures. </p>
<p>The visual alternation between dead and living created a rhythm of animation and stillness, of white and color, of life and death, evocative of fundamental human culture, <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/D/bo3617929.html">founded on this interplay between the living and the dead</a>. </p>
<p>When modern viewers see images like the Dance of Death, they <a href="http://www.dodedans.com/Epest.htm">might associate them</a> with certain well-known but frequently misunderstood cataclysms of the European Middle Ages, like the terrible plague that swept through England and came to be known as <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/middle_ages/black_01.shtml">Black Death</a>. </p>
<p>My research on these images, however, reveals a more subtle and nuanced attitude toward death, beginning with the evident beauty of the murals themselves, which <a href="http://www.brill.com/imago-mortis">endow the theme with color and vitality</a>. </p>
<p>The image of group dance powerfully evokes the grace and fluidity of a community’s cohesion, symbolized by the linking of hands and bodies in a chain that crosses the barrier between life and death. Dance was a powerful metaphor in medieval culture. The Dance of Death may be responding to medieval folk practices, when people came at night to <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=_fV8xR5n4K8C&q=55#v=snippet&q=55&f=false">dance in churchyards</a>, and perhaps to the “dancing mania” recorded in the <a href="http://history-world.org/Dancing%20In%20The%20Middle%20Ages.htm">late 14th century</a>, when people danced furiously until they fell to the ground. But images of dance also provoked a viewer to participate in a <a href="https://www.academia.edu/2105555/The_danse_macabre_and_the_medieval_community_of_death">“virtual” experience</a> of a community. It <a href="https://www.academia.edu/9523393/_Danse_macabre_and_the_Virtual_Churchyard">depicted</a> a society collectively facing up to human mortality. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192290/original/file-20171027-13311-zczjjg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mural of the Danse Macabre from the parish church of Kermaria-en-Isquit, France (late 15th century).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/66/KERMARIA-AN-ISQUIT_danse_macabre_5.jpg">Fil22plm, via Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A healthy community</h2>
<p>In analyzing the murals in their broader social context, I found that for medieval cultures, dying was a “transition,” not a rupture, that moved people from the community of the living to the dead in stages. </p>
<p>It was part of a larger spiritual drama that <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/4744/the-hour-of-our-death-by-philipe-aries-translated-from-the-french-by-helen-weaver/9780394751566/">encompassed the family and the broader community</a>.
During the dying process, people gathered in groups to aid in a successful transition by offering supportive prayer. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=559&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=559&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192270/original/file-20171027-13298-eac5o1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=559&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Scenes of dying, a funeral mass, sewing the shroud, burial and comfort of the widow. In the lower margin, a group of nobles confronts a symbolic figure of death, riding a unicorn.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/ILLUMIN.ASP?Size=mid&IllID=10968">The British Library</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>After death, groups prepared the corpse, sewed its shroud and transported the body to a church and then to a cemetery, where the broader community would participate in the rituals. These activities required a high degree of social cohesion to function properly. They were the metaphorical equivalent of dancing with the dead. </p>
<p>The Dance of Death murals thus depicted not a morbid or sick culture but a healthy community collectively facing their common destiny, even as they faced the challenge to renew by replacing the dead with the living. </p>
<p>Many of the murals are irretrievably lost. However, modern restoration work has <a href="https://boydellandbrewer.com/medieval-wall-paintings-in-english-and-welsh-churches.html">managed to recover some of them</a>. Perhaps this conservation work can serve as inspiration to recover an older model of death, dying and grief. </p>
<h2>Acknowledging the work of the dead</h2>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=949&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=949&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=949&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1193&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1193&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192273/original/file-20171027-13378-bwn8hm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1193&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Constable, bishop, squire and clerk from the Danse Macabre of the Abbey Church of La Chaise-Dieu, France.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ashby Kinch</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the modern era entire industries have emerged to whisk the dead from view and alter them to look more like the living. Once buried or cremated, the dead play a <a href="http://scalar.usc.edu/works/the-nature-of-death-in-the-united-states/contemporary-mainstream-american-deathways">much smaller role</a> in our social lives. </p>
<p>Could bringing the dead back into a central role in the community offer a healthier perspective on death for contemporary Western cultures? </p>
<p>That process might begin with acknowledging the dead as an ongoing part of our image of community, which is built on the work of the dead who have come before us.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/85881/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ashby Kinch does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
For medieval cultures, the dying process and death itself was a ‘transition,’ not a rupture.
Ashby Kinch, Professor of English, University of Montana
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/85657
2017-10-27T10:21:14Z
2017-10-27T10:21:14Z
Life after death: Americans are embracing new ways to leave their remains
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192140/original/file-20171026-13298-1evqmha.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Green burials' that use biodegradable coffins or lessen the environmental impact in other ways are on the rise. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Michael Hill</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>What do you want to happen to your remains after you die? </p>
<p>For the past century, most Americans have accepted a limited set of options without question. And discussions of death and funeral plans <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/05/what-good-is-thinking-about-death/394151/">have been taboo</a>.</p>
<p>That is changing. As a scholar of funeral and cemetery law, I’ve discovered that Americans are becoming more willing to have a conversation about their own mortality and what comes next and embrace new funeral and burial practices. </p>
<p>Baby boomers are insisting upon more control over their funeral and disposition so that their choices after death match their values in life. And businesses are following suit, offering new ways to memorialize and dispose of the dead.</p>
<p>While some options such as <a href="http://www.talkdeath.com/but-why-cant-i-have-a-tibetan-sky-burial/">Tibetan sky burial</a> – leaving human remains to be picked clean by vultures – and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQJOs8rm6xM">“Viking” burial via flaming boat</a> – familiar to “Game of Thrones” fans – remain off limits in the U.S., laws are changing to allow a growing variety of practices.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/reSR6jTZCc8?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The funeral pyre hasn’t yet received approval for use in the U.S.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘The American Way of Death’</h2>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=670&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=670&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192138/original/file-20171026-13311-dk00tz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=670&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Author, journalist and civil rights activist Jessica Mitford is shown during an interview at the Boston Public Garden in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1979.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Liss</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 1963, English journalist and activist <a href="http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20160721-how-jessica-mitford-changed-our-ideas-about-death">Jessica Mitford</a> published “<a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/death/fond-farewells">The American Way of Death</a>,” in which she described the leading method of disposing of human remains in the United States, still in use today. </p>
<p>She wrote that human remains are temporarily preserved by replacing blood with a formaldehyde-based embalming fluid shortly after death, placed in a decorative wood or metal casket, displayed to family and friends at the funeral home and buried within a concrete or steel vault in a grave, perpetually dedicated and marked with a tombstone. </p>
<p>Mitford called this “absolutely weird” and argued that it had been invented by the American funeral industry, which emerged at the turn of the 20th century. As she <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1963/06/the-undertakers-racket/305318/">wrote in The Atlantic</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Foreigners are astonished to learn that almost all Americans are embalmed and publicly displayed after death. The practice is unheard of outside the United States and Canada.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Nearly all Americans who died from the 1930s, when embalming became well-established, through the 1990s were disposed of in this manner. </p>
<p>And it’s neither cheap or good for the environment. The <a href="http://www.nfda.org/news/media-center/nfda-news-releases/id/840/nfda-releases-results-of-2015-member-general-price-list-survey">median cost of a funeral and burial</a>, including a vault to enclose the casket, was US$8,508 in 2014. Including the cost of the burial plot, the fee for opening and closing the grave and the tombstone easily brings the total cost to $11,000 or more. </p>
<p>This method also consumes a great deal of natural resources. Each year, <a href="http://www.talkdeath.com/environmental-impact-funerals-infographic/">we bury</a> 800,000 gallons of formaldehyde-based embalming fluid, 115 million tons of steel, 2.3 billion tons of concrete and enough wood to build 4.6 million single-family homes.</p>
<p>Mitford’s book <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1996/07/24/arts/jessica-mitford-incisive-critic-american-ways-britishupbringing-dies-78.html">influenced generations of Americans</a>, beginning with the baby boomers, to question this type of funeral and burial. As a result, demand for alternatives such as home funerals and green burials have increased significantly. The most common reasons cited are a desire to connect with and honor their loved ones in a more meaningful way, and interest in lower-cost, less environmentally damaging choices.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192137/original/file-20171026-13331-1oyles2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Traditional funerals are becoming less common as more Americans look for cheaper, greener options.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Alzbeta/Shutterstock.com</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The rise of cremation</h2>
<p>The most radical change to how Americans handle their remains has been the rising popularity of cremation by fire. Cremation is less expensive than burial and, although it consumes fossil fuels, is widely perceived to be better for the environment than burial in a casket and vault. </p>
<p>Although cremation became legal in a handful of states in the 1870s and 1880s, its usage in the U.S. remained in single digits for another century. After steadily rising since the 1980s, cremation was the disposition method of choice for <a href="https://www.deathcarestudies.com/2017/09/cremation-rate-update/">nearly half</a> of all deaths in the U.S. in 2015. Cremation is most popular in urban areas, where the cost of burial can be quite high, in states with a lot of people born in other ones and among those who do not identify with a particular religious faith. </p>
<p>Residents of western states like Nevada, Washington and Oregon opt for cremation the most, with rates as high as 76 percent. Mississippi, Alabama and Kentucky have the lowest rates, at less than a quarter of all burials. The National Funeral Directors Association <a href="https://www.deathcarestudies.com/2017/09/cremation-rate-update/">projects</a> that by 2030 the nationwide cremation rate will reach 71 percent. </p>
<p>Cremation’s dramatic rise is part of a huge shift in American funerary practices away from burial and the ritual of embalming the dead, which is not required by law in any state but which most funeral homes require in order to have a visitation. In 2017, a survey of the personal preferences of Americans aged 40 and over <a href="http://www.nfda.org/news/media-center/nfda-news-releases/id/2419/nfda-consumer-survey-funeral-planning-not-a-priority-for-americans">found</a> that more than half preferred cremation. <a href="https://www.deathcarestudies.com/2017/10/gleaned-from-the-2017-nfda-consumer-awareness-and-preferences-survey-part-1-funeral-consumers-need-education/">Only 14 percent</a> of those respondents said they would like to have a full funeral service with viewing and visitation prior to cremation, down from 27 percent as recently as 2015. </p>
<p>Part of the reason for that shift is cost. In 2014, the <a href="http://www.nfda.org/news/media-center/nfda-news-releases/id/840/nfda-releases-results-of-2015-member-general-price-list-survey">median cost of a funeral with viewing and cremation</a> was $6,078. In contrast, a “direct cremation,” which does not include embalming or a viewing, <a href="https://funerals.org/?consumers=cremation-explained-answers-frequently-asked-questions">can typically be purchased for $700 to $1,200</a>. </p>
<p>Cremated remains can be buried in a cemetery or stored in an urn on the mantle, but businesses also offer a <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/13-ways-to-use-your-ashes-to-become-something-awesome-2016-6?r=UK&IR=T/#-3">bewildering range of options</a> for incorporating ashes into objects like glass paperweights, jewelry and even vinyl records.</p>
<p>And while <a href="https://www.deathcarestudies.com/2017/10/gleaned-from-the-2017-nfda-consumer-awareness-and-preferences-survey-part-1-funeral-consumers-need-education/">40 percent of respondents</a> to the 2017 survey associate a cremation with a memorial service, Americans are increasingly holding those services at religious institutions and nontraditional locations like parks, museums and even at home. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=498&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=498&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192136/original/file-20171026-13378-6p9ybu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=498&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">As the number of cremations has soared, so too has the variety of urns. This one sold at a mall in Glendale, California, features a Dodgers baseball theme.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Damian Dovarganes</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Going green</h2>
<p>Another trend is finding greener alternatives to both the traditional burial and cremation. </p>
<p>The 2017 survey found that 54 percent of respondents were interested in green options. Compare this with a <a href="https://www.aarp.org/money/estate-planning/info-2007/funeral_survey.html">2007 survey of those aged 50 or higher</a> by AARP which found that only 21 percent were interested in a more environmentally friendly burial. </p>
<p>One example of this is a new method of disposing of human remains called <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/19/business/flameless-cremation.html">alkaline hydrolysis</a>, which involves using water and a salt-based solution to dissolve human remains. Often referred as “water cremation,” it’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbQTACCNgcg">preferred by many as a greener alternative</a> to cremation by fire, which consumes fossil fuels. Most funeral homes that offer both methods of cremation charge the same price.</p>
<p>The alkaline hydrolysis process results in a sterile liquid and bone fragments that are reduced to “ash” and returned to the family. Although most Americans are unfamiliar with the process, funeral directors that have adopted it generally report that families prefer it to cremation by fire. <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/eco-friendly-californians-can-have-dead-bodies-liquefied-burial-method-689055">California recently became the 15th state</a> to legalize it.</p>
<h2>Going home</h2>
<p>A rising number of families are also interested in so-called “<a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/the-surprising-satisfactions-of-a-home-funeral-53172008/">home funerals</a>,” in which the remains are cleaned and prepared for disposition at home by the family, religious community or friends. Home funerals are followed by cremation, or burial in a family cemetery, a traditional cemetery or a green cemetery.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/192134/original/file-20171026-13309-ctqjdk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">More Americans are being buried in natural burial grounds, such as this one in Rhinebeck, New York.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Michael Hill</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Assisted by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/13/fashion/baby-boomers-are-drawn-to-green-and-eco-friendly-funerals.html?_r=0">funeral directors</a> or educated by <a href="http://homefuneralalliance.org/">home funeral guides</a>, families that choose home funerals are returning to a set of practices that <a href="https://funerals.org/product/final-rights-reclaiming-the-american-way-of-death/">predate the modern funeral industry.</a> </p>
<p>Proponents say that caring for remains at home is a better way of honoring the relationship between the living and the dead. Home funerals are also seen as more environmentally friendly since remains are temporarily preserved through the use of dry ice rather than formaldehyde-based embalming fluid. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://greenburialcouncil.org/">Green Burial Council</a> says rejecting embalming is one way to go green. Another is to choose to have remains interred or cremated in a fabric shroud or biodegradable casket rather than a casket made from nonsustainable hardwoods or metal. The council promotes standards for green funeral products and certifies green funeral homes and burial grounds. More than 300 providers are currently certified in 41 states and six Canadian provinces. </p>
<p>For example, <a href="http://sleepyhollowcemetery.org/burial-options/natural-burial-grounds/">Sleepy Hollow Cemetery,</a> the historic New York cemetery made famous by Washington Irving, is a certified “hybrid” cemetery because it has reserved a portion of its grounds for green burials: no embalming, no vaults and no caskets unless they are biodegradable – the body often goes straight into the ground with just a simple wrapping.</p>
<p>Clearly Americans are pushing the “traditional” boundaries of how to memorialize their loved ones and dispose of their remains. While I wouldn’t hold out hope that Americans will be able to choose Viking- or Tibetan-style burials anytime soon, you never know.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/85657/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tanya D. Marsh does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Although ‘Game of Thrones’ -style funeral pyres are still out of bounds, Americans are increasingly turning to cheaper, greener and more meaningful ways to dispose of their loved ones’ bodies.
Tanya D. Marsh, Professor of Law, Wake Forest University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/61162
2016-08-23T20:20:36Z
2016-08-23T20:20:36Z
‘No reason for livin’: early death in female popular musicians
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132293/original/image-20160728-21561-1c9izjl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Janis Joplin in Janis: Little Girl Blue (2015)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In her 2005 memoir <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/news/book-reviews/pleasure-and-pain-my-life/2005/12/01/1133311152902.html">Pleasure and Pain: My Life,</a> singer Chrissie Amphlett reflected on the “the dreadful scenes, the despair and remorse, the damage I did to my mind and body, and to others’ minds and bodies” during her time with the influential 1980s rock band, The Divinyls.</p>
<p>“Not that I’m apologising for a thing,” said the recovering alcoholic and drug addict. “I never, ever apologise.”</p>
<p>With her sultry voice and steely on-stage persona, Amphlett was one of the greats of Australian rock. She <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/comment/obituaries/vocal-warrior-who-owned-the-stage-20130424-2iepo.html">died of breast cancer in 2013 at the age of 53</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132284/original/image-20160728-21556-bc1qdm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Chrissie Amphlett from The Divinyls, performing at the ARIA Hall of Fame in Melbourne after winning a Gold ARIA in 2006.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP Image/Joe Castro</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Amphlett is one of the most recent examples of women popular musicians who have died too young. Were Amphlett and others such as Janis Joplin and Amy Winehouse (who both died at 27), Karen Carpenter (33), Judee Sill (35), Dinah Washington (39), and Whitney Houston (45) exceptions?</p>
<p>Or do women in popular music die younger – and from more unnatural causes like suicide, homicide and accidents – than women in the general population? </p>
<p>The answer, sadly, is yes. Unlike women in general population studies who consistently outlive men, female popular musicians suffer earlier mortality that is comparable with their male popular musician peers.</p>
<h2>The female popular musician population</h2>
<p>We studied over 13,000 popular musicians who died between 1950 and 2014. There were significant differences in cause of death by <a href="https://theconversation.com/stairway-to-hell-life-and-death-in-the-pop-music-industry-32735">music genre membership</a>. Here we report on gender differences. </p>
<p>In our sample of 13,191 deceased popular musicians, 9.8% were female.</p>
<p>Chart one (below) plots the ages at death for male and female popular musicians against the ages of death for males and females in the general US population. Both male and female mortality curves far exceeded those for the general population up to the age of 65. </p>
<p>This chart also shows that the differences in the patterns of age at death between popular musicians and the general population are much larger than the differences between male and female popular musicians. </p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=717&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=717&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=717&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=901&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=901&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132438/original/image-20160729-12082-1bud8wm.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=901&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>Chart two below plots the rates of all deaths and natural and unnatural deaths for female popular musicians against the same female population curves. The proportion of both natural and unnatural deaths in female popular musicians far exceeded those of the general female population up to 75 years of age. </p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=752&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=752&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=752&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=945&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=945&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132458/original/image-20160729-24689-1ez4b6i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=945&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>Even the pattern of so-called natural deaths points to riskier lifestyles. Breast cancer, which has claimed, among others, Minnie Ripperton (31), Puma Jones (36), Rachel Bissex (48), Chrissie Amphlett (53), Linda McCartney (56), Dusty Springfield (60), and Phyllis Carr (66), is double the rate in female popular musicians compared with the general female population. </p>
<p>The same applies to throat cancer. Both of these cancers have been associated with excessive alcohol consumption.</p>
<h2>What is wrong with the popular music industry?</h2>
<p>Some of the systemic problems in the pop music industry were outlined in a previous article in the <a href="https://theconversation.com/stairway-to-hell-life-and-death-in-the-pop-music-industry-32735">Death and Dying series</a>. Added here are some more specific issues reported by musicians. </p>
<p>Drug and alcohol availability and abuse is endemic to an industry where workers lead high-octane, peripatetic lives. </p>
<p>They need help coping with the glare of the spotlight. Many suffer from <a>performance anxiety</a>, for which they self-medicate. Musicians are often perfectionists who feel acutely the shame of a less than perfect performance. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=374&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=374&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=374&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=470&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=470&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/132286/original/image-20160728-21564-2fk5dr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=470&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A painting ‘Amy’ by British artist Johan Andersson, hanging at a pub in central London. The portrait is part of an exhibition ‘27 Club’ which features portraits of famous musicians who died at the age of twenty seven.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Toby Melville/Reuters</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>They also suffer the chronic stress of those who are expected to make every song, every studio session, and every concert a financial and popular success. </p>
<p>Even the loud, the bold and the outrageous have to find ways of managing their vulnerabilities. Chrissie Amphlett invented a “theatrical persona” (fuelled by alcohol and drugs) for her edgy songs in order to overcome her performance nerves.</p>
<p>Spending so much time touring strains and fractures intimate relationships and disrupts social networks. Many experience chronic loneliness and dislocation, having no one on tour in whom they can confide. Although musicians are surrounded by people on tour (promoters, managers, roadies, minders), these people may have no genuine interest in their welfare. </p>
<p>Working like a shift worker for long periods on tour can disturb natural biorhythms. This may result in chronic insomnia and lethargy for which artists use uppers during the day and downers during the night to bring on merciful sleep. </p>
<p>Rivalry with other musicians and the struggle to develop one’s own recognisable “brand” in a saturated market is also a chronic stressor. </p>
<p>The inherent risks in the popular music world cast their ‘evil’ spell equally over male and female popular musicians. Equality of early death was surely not what the feminist movement had in mind when lobbying for equal rights and opportunity for women in the workforce. </p>
<p>The music industry needs to consider these findings to discover ways of recognising and assisting young musicians who are distressed, in crisis, depressed or suicidal. </p>
<p>Those who make their living from popular musicians need to recognise early warning signs and implement supportive policies and practices to provide the necessary assistance and care.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/61162/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dianna Theadora Kenny receives funding from the Australia Research Council (ARC) and the Australian Council for the Arts. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anthony Asher does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Female popular musicians die younger – and from more unnatural causes like suicide, homicide and accidents – than women in the general population. What’s going wrong?
Dianna Theadora Kenny, Professor of Psychology and Music, University of Sydney
Anthony Asher, Associate Professor, UNSW Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/60966
2016-06-15T12:52:49Z
2016-06-15T12:52:49Z
It may be macabre, but dark tourism helps us learn from the worst of human history
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126733/original/image-20160615-14054-iq4pxq.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/heartfullofpoison/25675638475/in/photostream/">heartfullofpoison</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Dark tourism has become a much more well-covered pasttime in recent years, in which a macabre fascination lead tourists to travel to various places not served by Thomas Cook: the sites of battles and genocides, war cemeteries, prisons, and even <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/07/the-rise-of-dark-tourism/374432/">current warzones such as Syria</a>. </p>
<p>The 20th century alone has provided such a <a href="http://www.therichest.com/expensive-lifestyle/location/10-great-places-to-visit-for-dark-tourism/">long list of places</a> at which catastrophes or great loss of life and suffering has occurred. Sites visited range from the spot from which JFK was assassinated, to prisons such as Alcatraz in San Francisco, through to battlefields of the World Wars, or the vestiges of genocides such at Auschwitz in Poland or Tuol Sleng in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It’s not everybody’s cup of tea, but we shouldn’t condemn those for whom this is an interest.</p>
<p>Dark tourism appears to be a manifestation of our media-rich society through which information found online may persuade us to see historical sites in person. But its origins can be traced back much further than the fascination with death and disasters of the 19th and 20th century. In the 11th century, people and pilgrims often visited places with religious significance such as Jerusalem, where the location of Christ’s crucifixion is a popular attraction; tourists visited Gettysburg, the site of the bloodiest battle of the American Civil War in 1863; and in more recent centuries, the Grand Tour offered an opportunity for the wealthy to experience Europe, with sites such as the classical ruins of the Colosseum in Rome – which in the name of entertainment saw execution, torture and death – one of the must-see attractions.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=320&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126735/original/image-20160615-14027-t2usc9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Colosseum in Rome is an attraction today, despite being the scene of countless violent deaths.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/132084522@N05/16800139540">Sam valadi</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Today, in parallel with the growth in popularity of dark tourism is the enormous growth of social media and the 24-hour news economy. The ease of access to such blanket coverage through the web, Facebook and Twitter has increased people’s awareness of, and fascination for, these historical sites of war, conflict and catastrophe. For example, the last decade has brought a surge in visitor numbers to <a href="https://theconversation.com/from-fiction-to-gallows-humour-how-chernobyl-survivors-are-still-coping-with-trauma-57923">Chernobyl</a>, where guides take visitors around the abandoned city of Pripyat (radiation levels permitting) which has been deserted since the nuclear power plant explosion on April 26, 1986. The 30th anniversary this year has in itself <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/travel_news/article-3526271/Chernobyl-tourists-pose-photos-eerie-sites.html">added to interest in visiting</a> the overgrown and crumbling city.</p>
<p>As with tourism of any kind, this greater footfall brings benefits. In this case, not just the economic boost but also as a tool of education and even conflict resolution. For example, the <a href="http://www.belfasttours.com/package/belfast-political-mural-tour">taxi tours of Belfast’s murals</a>, which document Northern Ireland’s Troubles, offer visitors a way to understand the history and provide the communities involved a means to reflect and move on from the conflict. This model is <a href="http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showpdf.php?id=25852">viewed with interest</a> and hope by moderates on both sides of the Arab-Israeli divide searching for a peaceful solution for the long term. </p>
<p>The tours of <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/916">Robin Island prison</a> in South Africa, where Nelson Mandela spent 18 years incarcerated among many others, starkly present how those imprisoned by a corrupt and discriminatory political regime can later engage in peace and reconciliation. The <a href="http://www.bruisedpassports.com/africa/5-reasons-you-must-go-for-a-township-tour-in-south-africa">Soweto township tours</a> in Johannesburg have acted in part as a means through which generations of South Africans can better understand their country’s dark past and help to establish truth and reconciliation for the future.</p>
<p>Dark tourism should not in my opinion by viewed as unethical, repugnant or even a self-indulgent activity. Certainly some dark tourists may engage in their pursuits for all the wrong reasons, seeing death and destruction as a commodity to be consumed with little thought for those who caught up in its wake. But others visit such sites to pay their respects, to better understand the magnitude of death and destruction, and to inform the outside world of the details of terrible events – even in some case offering to help. These are positive effects that may come from so much pain and suffering.</p>
<p>We should strive to better understand the origins of the terrible events of human history to be more able to prevent us repeating them. In this regard, that more people visit sites associated with dark tourism and learn about them should be seen as a positive.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/60966/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dr Neil Robinson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Disaster tourism and obsessions with sites of death and destruction can be a learning experience, not just voyeurism.
Dr Neil Robinson, Lecturer in Business, University of Salford
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/58831
2016-06-14T10:25:23Z
2016-06-14T10:25:23Z
Remembrance when we’d rather forget: the war dead of Japan and Germany
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126149/original/image-20160610-29225-7iif4k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Yasakuni shrine commemorates those who are remembered for the wrong reasons.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Yasukuni_Shrine_2012.JPG">Kakidai</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo was built in 1869 at the very moment that the modern Japanese state emerged, and as Japan’s national war memorial it commemorates the souls of the 2.5m Japanese who have given their lives for their country. It is the equivalent in Japanese culture to the Cenotaph in Whitehall in London, at which Britain conducts its national ceremonies of remembrance.</p>
<p>But while the attendance of British politicians at the Cenotaph is expected, Japanese politicians’ visits to the Yasukuni Shrine are a cause of controversy. In fact Japanese leaders’ visits are carefully observed by Beijing and Seoul, and sometimes responded to with anger and resentment. Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-25517205">visit in December 2013</a>, for example, prompted a formal protest from the Chinese government condemning the act as glorifying Japanese militarism.</p>
<p>The issue here is that the shrine commemorates all the Japanese war dead, from every lowly private to the highest general – and this includes the <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/japan/11031805/Yasukuni-Shrine-the-14-Class-A-war-criminals-honoured-by-Japan.html">14 men classed as Class A war criminals</a> following their trial and conviction by the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal. While Britain and the Allies proudly remember their war dead and their triumph in the World Wars, mourning and remembrance is a more complicated matter for the defeated. In a culture also tarnished by the nature of the conflict, how can the war dead be remembered – especially in an official way – when they include those responsible for the <a href="http://www.history.com/topics/nanjing-massacre">Rape of Nanking</a>, the sexual <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/15/opinion/comfort-women-and-japans-war-on-truth.html?_r=0">enslavement of so-called Korean “comfort women”</a>, and for the torture of Allied prisoners of war?</p>
<p>Dealing with defeat is a challenge faced by other nations in the past. In France, following the loss of Alsace-Lorraine to the rising German Empire in 1870, defeat was explained as the last act of a decadent and corrupt empire. In its place would rise a better, stronger France. On the other hand, following the defeat of the Confederacy in the American Civil War, a powerful and attractive idea was created: the <a href="http://www.encyclopediavirginia.org/lost_cause_the">myth of the lost cause</a>. This myth claimed that while the south’s fight to uphold states’ rights was noble and honourable, defeat was inevitable due to the superior economic power – but not moral courage – of the north. In these terms, the white south was able to mourn its dead and “accept” defeat (while glossing over the morally problematic causes of the conflict, foremost of which was slavery).</p>
<p>Another response to defeat as argued by historian Wolfgang Schivelbusch involves shifting cultural attention to something more palatable. The notable example is the US, which devoted significant energy in the 1980s to the celebration of the “good” war (World War II) to distract attention from its recent defeat in the “bad” war in Vietnam. These historical approaches are helpful in understanding the predicament facing contemporary Japan. But they only go so far towards providing a viable strategy. For that, we have to compare the experiences and reactions of Japan and Germany.</p>
<p>The consequences in Germany of President Ronald Reagan’s infamous <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1985/05/06/international/europe/06REAG.html">1985 visit to the military cemetery at Bitburg</a> are particularly revealing. During a state visit to West Germany, an important US ally, Reagan toured the German war cemetery with Chancellor Helmut Khol, at the chancellor’s request. This was controversial because Reagan tried to justify the visit by arguing that those buried at Bitburg – including members of the <a href="http://www.britannica.com/topic/SS">Nazi Waffen-SS</a> – were themselves “victims” of Nazism. What the controversy revealed, to Germans as much as to the Americans, was that some acts are beyond the political pale. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126158/original/image-20160610-29222-3hx3ji.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, in Berlin.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/dalbera/9617851018/in/photostream/">dalbera</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Lying uncomfortably with the past</h2>
<p>Today, for all the contemporary resurgence of the neo-fascist right in Europe, mainstream German politicians do not attempt to rehabilitate the national war record. Ceremonies of remembrance do of course still take place at German war cemeteries, and there have been intense debates recently in Germany about <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2015/02/remembering-dresden-70-years-after-the-firebombing/385445/">how to remember those killed by Allied bombing raids</a>. But these ceremonies and debates are accompanied elsewhere by important efforts to acknowledge the crimes perpetrated in Germany’s name. For example, the Berlin Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (2005) and the Jewish Museum Berlin (2001).</p>
<p>It’s here that the comparison with Japan is revealing. Germany now remembers its 20th-century war dead, but use of the swastika is banned, holocaust denial is a crime, and federal money is available for memorials acknowledging German war crimes. In Japan, cabinet members and occasionally prime ministers visit the shrine and pay homage to the souls of the war dead, with journalists and photographers in tow. At the same time mainstream Japanese politicians <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/09/13/opinion/tea-party-politics-in-japan.html?_r=0">have questioned</a> the extent of the Rape of Nanking, or downplayed the enslavement of tens of thousands of the Chinese and Korean women. The <a href="http://thediplomat.com/2015/04/why-japans-textbook-controversy-is-getting-worse/">textbook controversy</a>, focusing on how Japan’s war record is interpreted in the school curriculum, has even seen the education system called into question.</p>
<p>Mourning and memorialising in the aftermath of military defeat is always problematic; mourning those who served a morally reprehensible and murderous political regime even more so. Germany has come far in responding to and moving on from its past through a careful programme of remembrance and reconciliation. It is to this example that Japanese politicians should look if the land of the rising sun is ever to truly come to terms with its legacy of war.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/58831/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sam Edwards research has previously received funding from the Economic and Social Research Council, the United States Army Military History Institute, and the US-UK Fulbright Commission. </span></em></p>
Mourning a death is natural and necessary, but sometimes politics gets in the way of grief.
Sam Edwards, Senior Lecturer in History, Manchester Metropolitan University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/60120
2016-06-13T13:59:31Z
2016-06-13T13:59:31Z
In the face of death, telling and sharing our story helps us make sense of dying
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126281/original/image-20160613-29219-119a8y6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">viki2win/shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>For those who may feel that many decades separate them from their deaths, contemplating the end of life seems difficult, even abstract. But <a href="http://pmj.sagepub.com/content/20/3/183.abstract">stories of the dying</a> hold a fascination for us, from diagnosis to treatment, remission or relapse, survival or death. </p>
<p>Personal dying narratives – in which the author writes about their own imminent death, or the tale of their death as written by someone close to them – first emerged as a popular genre in books, newspapers and magazines in the 1950s. Today, such stories published online can confer authors with celebrity status: <a href="http://stephensstory.co.uk/">Stephen Sutton</a> died of cancer in 2014 aged just 19, and his blog, written over the two years prior to his death, was read by more than a million people and helped raise a staggering £2.3m for the Teenage Cancer Trust.</p>
<p>The earliest of these dying narratives tended to be the preserve of public figures, celebrities, authors and journalists. For example, American journalist Charles Wertenbaker’s account of his facing colon cancer in 1955 and his choice to die by euthanasia was the basis of the book Death Of A Man written and published after his death by <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1997/03/29/arts/lael-wertenbaker-87-author-who-wrote-of-husband-s-death.html">his wife Lael Wertenbaker</a>. She later said that her determination to publish this story was to raise awareness about the realities of a cancer death and the need to talk openly about euthanasia, and in that she has been successful.</p>
<p>Since then, there have been many other high profile stories of facing death that have raised other issues that go beyond the purely biographical. Tennis player <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/learning/general/onthisday/bday/0710.html">Arthur Ashe</a>, in his autobiography, written as he was dying from AIDS acquired from an HIV-infected blood transfusion during heart surgery, sought to raise awareness of the risks of untested donated blood.</p>
<p>Stories of medical errors or delays in treatment are a common theme. Journalist <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/society/2011/dec/30/ruth-picardie-cancer-doctor-struck-off">Ruth Picardie</a>, who died of breast cancer in 1998 aged 33, wrote about the impact of poor medical decision making at her diagnosis that significantly reduced her chances of survival. </p>
<p>Other writers elaborate on the stark everyday realities of a terminal illness: fear and uncertainty. Journalist <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/1198541.stm">John Diamond</a> died in 2001, and eloquently wrote how “cancer is for cowards, too”, and not just a battle for the “brave” and “heroes”. For most people, there is no choice but to get on with it, to endure horrible treatments and find very ordinary ways to cope.</p>
<p>In a similar way, doctor <a href="https://drkategranger.wordpress.com/">Kate Granger</a> shares on her blog the unpredictable emotional responses since her diagnosis with terminal cancer:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>As a newly diagnosed 29-year-old girl I thought I knew exactly how I wanted things to be with regards to my treatment. As a hardened and experienced 34-year-old cancer patient I now know I have to face each decision at a time and cannot predict how I’m going to react emotionally to any of this.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>The appeal of deathbed tales</h2>
<p>Personal stories of death and dying are more likely to be told if the writer is younger, has a cancer diagnosis, and is running a campaign to raise funds or awareness of specific challenges (and benefits) of treatment, or working with clinicians. Older people are much less likely to share stories of illness, particularly if they’re struggling with the more common effects of age, such as stroke or dementia. Older generations are increasing their use of the internet, however, and some charities specific to an illness such as Parkinson’s UK have developed <a href="http://www.parkinsons.org.uk/tags-forum-and-website/real-life-stories">online forums</a> where real life stories can be shared between younger and older people.</p>
<p>There are other subtle reasons for sharing the story of our final days: <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com.ezproxy.lancs.ac.uk/science/article/pii/0005796793901054">telling a story can be therapeutic</a> and it can make you feel better to verbally share, write down or unload tales of the affliction suffered, and the resulting fear, anger, confusion or sadness. We have, it seems, a deep need to make sense of events and <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/W/bo14674212.html">communicate this process through storytelling</a>.</p>
<p>We turn to writing and to reading other people’s books, blogs and poetry when we are being put through the trauma of illness. We may wish to preserve some sense of normality again, to give voice to memories, and to search for meaning at the end of our lives. Importantly, reading the stories of others can offer support and comfort. To connect with others online and exchange notes about our illness with others in the same situation is to put trust in the personal anecdote over the impersonal official leaflet. Our stories are witnessed, and in this way we may feel some part of our story continues after death.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/60120/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Amanda Bingley was a researcher on the team that received funding from Macmillan Cancer Support for this research. </span></em></p>
Putting the unsayable into words makes it easier to bear, for both the writers and those reading them.
Amanda Bingley, Lecturer in Health Research, Lancaster University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/60386
2016-06-13T12:02:28Z
2016-06-13T12:02:28Z
From mummification to ‘sky burials’: why we need death rituals
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124945/original/image-20160602-23293-1gn2azm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Traditional song and dance at a Torajan funeral.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sergey/Flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Few liturgical phrases from the <a href="https://www.churchofengland.org/prayer-worship/worship/book-of-common-prayer.aspx">1662 Book of Common Prayer</a> are so familiar to so many, even those who have never darkened the doors of a church. This part of the funeral service, taken from the book of Genesis, is also reflected in what priests say when they sign the cross in ash on people’s foreheads during Ash Wednesday: “You are made from dust, and to dust you shall return”.</p>
<p>Death is central to Christianity. After all, its main symbol – the crucifix – is an instrument of torture and execution. Death also takes pride of place in the two central sacraments of the church. Baptism signifies a drowning in which one participates in the death of Jesus, as well as his resurrection. This death and resurrection are also regularly recalled in the celebration of the Eucharist (holy communion). Christians also observe special days dedicated to death, such as Good Friday and the feasts of All Souls and All Saints. Indeed, most saints’ days fall on the dates of their deaths, rather than the anniversaries of their births. </p>
<p>From an anthropological and psychological standpoint, Christianity’s apparent obsession with death is neither surprising nor special; religious traditions all over the world and across time are similarly morbid. Virtually all cultures have some sort of death ritual – varying from the simple to the extremely elaborate, the sanitised to the macabre. </p>
<p>The earliest evidence for human religion comes from <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=DNr5YIygjMMC">Upper Palaeolithic burial sites</a> dating from 50,000 to 100,000 years ago. It is difficult to know what our hominid ancestors believed, but grave goods and other similar burial practices indicate at least rudimentary afterlife beliefs. Even now, among the most common forms of religious practice is the veneration of the dead, such as in ancestor worship and devotion to saints.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/126177/original/image-20160610-29203-1voemf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Orthodox funeral service.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Отпевание/Flickr/wikimedia</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Mortuary rituals are ubiquitous across cultures, but exactly how death is dressed up can differ widely. <a href="http://www.kalahari-meerkats.com/fileadmin/files/guides/Bushmen_light.pdf">Kalahari bushmen</a>, for example, leave corpses where they lie, then immediately abandon the area en masse, not returning for many years. This onerous move is not necessary for the sanitary disposal of corpses. But then nor for that matter are the expensive lined and cushioned mahogany or walnut caskets often used in modern Western burials.</p>
<p>And while Western funerals are often stoic affairs, others, such as those in many Mediterranean and Asian cultures, <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2598397/Chinese-mourners-hiring-professional-actors-wail-loudly-traditional-ritual-dictates.html">involve professional mourners</a> who are paid to wail loudly. Bodies are variously entombed, buried, cremated or even <a href="https://www.tutorhunt.com/resource/358/">excarnated</a>. The Zoroastrians used to place corpses atop specially constructed Towers of Silence for the scavenging birds. Tibetans still practice “<a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3301536/The-Tibetan-sky-burials-bodies-chopped-left-picked-clean-vultures-dead-Heaven.html">sky burials</a>”, leaving the bodies of their loved ones exposed on hill tops.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=496&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=496&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/124956/original/image-20160602-23281-6ti4hd.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=496&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sky burial site in the Yerpa Valley, Tibet.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">John Hill</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Muslims, for example, bury the body as quickly as possible – ideally before the next sunset. In other groups, such as in <a href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2016/04/death-dying-grief-funeral-ceremony-corpse/">traditional Torajan society</a> in Indonesia, the funeral might only occur months or years after a person’s biological death. In the meantime, the corpse is mummified to prevent putrefaction and remains at home. It is dressed up and spoken to as if it were still a person. Even after the funeral, every few years there is a <em>ma’nene’</em>, during which the corpse is exhumed and given new clothing before reburial. </p>
<h2>The psychology of rituals</h2>
<p>The ritualisation of death is both universal and universally varied. But why? And is there anything that ties together the human tendency to make much ado about death? Across many different religious traditions, the well rehearsed answer is that we do so for the good of the dead: we venerate them and offer sacrifices to them for their benefit, to ease their passage into the afterlife. The psychologist’s answer, perhaps predictably, is that we ritualise death for our own sake, to quell our own sorrows and anxieties. Indeed, there is increasing evidence that rituals in general do serve to regulate our emotional reactions. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23398180">Experiments conducted at Harvard University</a>, for example, showed that rituals – even simple rituals just invented by the researchers – reduce people’s feelings of grief, including grief over the death of a loved one. These studies also revealed that rituals aid bereavement by increasing people’s sense of control. That is, rituals help us to feel less helpless in the face of loss. This evidence also complements <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/Grief_and_mourning_in_cross_cultural_per.html?id=VrCAAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y">previous findings</a> from studies that associate absence of mortuary rituals with prolonged grief. </p>
<p>Rituals may also serve to stave off our own anxieties concerning mortality. Certainly, <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0960982215006521">studies have shown</a> that people’s behaviour becomes ritualised – more rigid and repetitive – when they are put in stressful situations, which <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4217595/">researchers interpret</a> as being a means of reducing anxiety. Furthermore, group rituals, particularly those involving synchronous behaviour, also <a href="http://cdp.sagepub.com/content/25/1/42.short">foster a sense of social cohesion</a> that can help us to feel more physically formidable: rituals bind us together, which helps us when we are feeling threatened.</p>
<p>Another interesting idea not yet properly tested, which has its roots in the work of Sigmund Freud, is that ritualising death helps us to deal with the feelings of guilt associated with disposing of a corpse. We need symbolic rites that help us to reconceptualise the dead bodies of loved ones, so that they cease to be people and become objects that we can therefore abandon.</p>
<p>In a sense, Torajan death rituals of keeping dead bodies around for years could not be more different from the Muslim or Christian traditions, where most corpses are cremated to be buried or strewn, never to be seen again. And yet, despite this wide diversity of practice, it seems our death rituals serve the same psychological functions: to make us feel less helpless in the face of our sorrow and terror.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/60386/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jonathan Jong receives funding from the Royal Society of New Zealand to conduct research on death anxiety and religious belief.</span></em></p>
Death rituals help us to cope with loss and perhaps even feelings of guilt associated with disposing of a corpse.
Jonathan Jong, Research Fellow, Coventry University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33686
2014-12-01T20:03:12Z
2014-12-01T20:03:12Z
Tweets from the afterlife: social networking with the dead
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64092/original/c7sw8bjk-1415594869.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The possibility of a posthumous digital social life seriously challenges our notions of death.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shimal Ahmed (Fulhi)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Media technologies have operated as both a means of communicating news of a death and memorialising the deceased for a significant period of time, moving from traditional epitaphs, eulogies, wakes and inscription in stone to centuries-old obituaries printed and circulated in newspapers. So where are we now?</p>
<p>Digital commemoration emerged as the internet became readily accessible and an integral part of people’s communicative practices. Initially, during the 90s, it took the form of memorial websites hosted by the families and friends of the deceased. </p>
<p>But this earlier form of commemoration required some proficiency with HTML and content management systems. Therefore online memorials were relatively uncommon, were only authored by a limited number of people, and were fairly static, using only text and still-images</p>
<p>Since then, user-friendly Web 2.0 platforms have enabled digital commemoration to grow in popularity. People are now appropriating a range of social networking sites like Facebook to share in the digital commemoration of the dead. Our <a href="http://www.cis.unimelb.edu.au/research/groups/interaction-design/digital-commemoration/people/"> research into digital commemoration</a> has found blogs created to commemorate loved ones; videos posted on video sharing sites such as YouTube; and repurposed and memorialised pages on social networking sites.</p>
<p>But what does it mean for the bereaved to be able to engage with a deceased person’s social media profile? Recent research has found that young internet users continue to visit and post to their dead peers’ sites, maintaining a social attachment with the deceased. </p>
<p>These interactions are not unexpected: they echo established social media conventions for connecting and sharing. </p>
<p>But socially networking with the dead carries wider implications. By engaging with the dead on social media we no longer sequester the dead in spaces away from the living. Instead, the dead are integrated into people’s ongoing social relationships. </p>
<p>While some specific memorial sites or services are set for private use by friends and family, others spaces (in particular, public social networking profiles) are not and can be publicly viewed and contributed to by strangers. </p>
<p>The deceased’s online presence therefore becomes distributed. With a large public of family, friends and strangers able to contribute to ongoing memory-making for the deceased, this can potentially generate conflict and require some level of posthumous profile curation.</p>
<p>In addition to these social engagements with the dead, research is considering the uncertain status of the dead online. This work not only explores how the dead are remembered, represented or related to through social media, but also how they persist and continue to participate as social actors within social media platforms.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64091/original/88zn9vj9-1415594753.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Official GDC</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A person’s online self persists after their bodies have gone, and these digital selves are often managed in a distributed and collective fashion. These new forms of persistence are dynamic and significantly different from older forms of memorialisation such as gravestones, epitaphs, or printed obituaries. </p>
<p>Many millions of deceased profiles exist in a state where they may continue to be modified and maintained through the collaborative actions and interactions of friends and relatives. A range of people may post on the deceased’s social media page, publishing new stories about them and offering different perspectives about someone’s life. </p>
<p>With a range of people offering different stories about a deceased person, this leads to a much more contested and negotiated biography than we would traditionally see in, say, a eulogy or obituary. Instead of having a stable, coherent narrative of someone’s life, these posthumous narratives – and a person’s posthumous biography - evolve over time. </p>
<p>Because of this continued engagement with the dead on social media platforms, <a href="http://www.dgp.toronto.edu/%7Emikem/hcieol/subs/brubaker.pdf">scholars have suggested</a> that the dead in social media be thought of as “extreme users”, rather than non-users or former users. </p>
<p>Death does not necessarily result in the termination of an account or, indeed, an end to social presence online. A profile may still be active, people can still post to it and the deceased might still appear in people’s news feed.
In contrast to existing norms around the sequestration of the dead, the possibility of a posthumous digital social life seriously challenges our socially and culturally constituted notions of death. </p>
<p>Interestingly, as the numbers of deceased profiles grow, there has been speculation about the date when Facebook will become more like a cemetery than a social network. If Facebook falls out of favour it may be populated by more dead accounts than living accounts. Perhaps then, its business model could shift from social networking to genealogy.</p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33686/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bjorn Nansen receives funding from Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Martin Gibbs receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michael Arnold receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tamara Kohn receives funding from ARC</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>James Meese does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Media technologies have operated as both a means of communicating news of a death and memorialising the deceased for a significant period of time, moving from traditional epitaphs, eulogies, wakes and…
Bjorn Nansen, Research Fellow in Computing and Information Systems, The University of Melbourne
James Meese, Research fellow, The University of Melbourne
Martin Gibbs, Senior Lecturer in Computing and Information Systems, The University of Melbourne
Michael Arnold, Senior Lecturer of Social Studies of Technology, The University of Melbourne
Tamara Kohn, Associate professor, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/34056
2014-11-26T23:55:00Z
2014-11-26T23:55:00Z
Before you go … are you in denial about death?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/65577/original/image-20141126-4250-ruvv71.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Our tendency to think that we will "beat the odds" is risky, and mostly wrong. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">malik ml williams</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>For most of us, death conjures up strong feelings. We project all kinds of fears onto it. We worry about it, dismiss it, laugh it off, push it aside or don’t think about it at all. Until we have to. Of course, death – our own, a friend’s, a family member’s – will arrive sooner or later, and when it does, we are forced to confront it, whether we like it or not … </p>
<p>Despite all progress in “<a href="http://www.palliativecare.org.au/">normalising</a>” death and dying from a medical perspective, making it something that patients and families can talk about together, they all too often remain taboo – no-go areas shunned as legitimate topics in polite circles. Western societies continue to have a strained relationship with the concepts - and realities - of death and dying.</p>
<p>I’m involved in a three-year study in Queensland of doctors’, nurses’, patients’ and families’ experiences of managing and recognising medical futility as well as facilitating the transition to end-of-life care. <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23219848">We’ve already found</a> that doctors, patients and families often work together to resist futility. They don’t want to tell families to give up hope. This reluctance to look death in the face can delay a shift toward more appropriate life-improving care at the end of life. </p>
<p>So why is it so difficult for us to talk about death? One argument put forth over the last few decades is that dying is <a href="http://soc.sagepub.com/content/27/3/411.short">increasingly alarming</a> in modern societies given the lack of rituals surrounding it. With ever fewer people holding religious beliefs, so the argument goes, there is crisis of meaning around death and dying. </p>
<p>In contemporary Australian life, on <a href="http://www.abs.gov.au/ausstats/abs@.nsf/Lookup/4102.0Main+Features30Nov+2013">present trends</a>, “no religion” will be the most popular response to questions about religion in the 2016 census. In increasingly secular societies, cultural taboos form a protective layer against the dreaded inevitability of death. </p>
<p>Others <a href="http://soc.sagepub.com/content/42/4/745.short">insist</a> that such arguments are simplistic and don’t take into account widespread variation in beliefs about death and dying. Certainly, in Australia <a href="https://www.mja.com.au/journal/2003/179/6/issues-palliative-care-indigenous-communities">Indigenous beliefs</a> around death and dying remain organised and meaningful.</p>
<p>New forms of spirituality have also taken hold in many western contexts around death and dying. For example, the 1992 <a href="http://www.rigpa.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=38&Itemid=145">Tibetan Book of Living and Dying</a> by Sogyal Rinpoche introduced new understandings of consciousness <em>after</em> death, gaining widespread popularity as an alternative to other dominant religious frameworks. </p>
<p>Yet, in healthcare we continue to see “death denial” in action, along with its serious consequences. </p>
<p>In a 2008 <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18523222">study of chronic heart failure </a> people were shown to overestimate their life expectancy by a full three years. This kind of optimism was also shown in <a href="http://jco.ascopubs.org/content/29/17/2319.short">a 2011 study</a> of lung cancer patients who were deemed to have inaccurate perceptions of the purpose of their treatment (i.e. cure versus palliation) and their chances of mid to long-term survival. </p>
<p>Is this about faith in medicine? Or do doctors and patients <a href="http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa1204410">collude</a> in unwarranted hopefulness? Or perhaps it is a cultural denial of death? Our research would suggest it is probably all of the above. </p>
<p>Despite establishing futility and the actual referral for end-of-life care being the doctor’s decisions, we’ve <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/25246331">discovered</a> that Australian nurses often have to informally intervene to ensure patients get the timely end-of-life care they need. A polite tap on the doctors’ shoulder to let them know the patient has in fact had enough and can’t take any further medical attempts at life-prolongment. </p>
<p>Our tendency to think we will “beat the odds” is risky – and may mean that we are not being properly prepared for death. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/65576/original/image-20141126-4250-r2thh4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">zoe J</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These days, palliative care doctors and nurses can make a significant difference to our quality of life and death, with a 2010 <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20818875">study</a> showing that if doctors refer patients earlier, acknowledging the point of futility, it can actually extend life rather than representing a “loss of hope” or process of “giving up”. </p>
<p>But the shift to palliative care relies on a preparedness on the part of doctors, patients and families to accept that the dying process has begun. </p>
<p>Acknowledgement of dying also relates to the level of influence we are able to have over the circumstances of our deaths, and this includes place of death. Fewer than 20% of Australians <a href="http://www.aihw.gov.au/publication-detail/?id=10737420167">actually die at home</a> - earlier discussions of futility and dying enhance our capacity to express our preferences, including for place of death. </p>
<p>There are other layers of complexity to consider. Assisted dying is unlikely to be formally supported in a hospital, hospice or aged-care facility in Australia, regardless of personal preference. And early recognition of dying by patients and families will allow more time for financial matters to be sorted, not to mention allowing more time for the person involved and their loved ones to come to terms with the reality of death. </p>
<p>It’s <a href="http://www.maneyonline.com/doi/abs/10.1179/096992610X12624290277187">often the economically less well off</a> who suffer disproportionately in dying process. Despite Mark Twain’s famous suggestion that death is “the great leveller”, it’s not. </p>
<p>How and where you die - home, hospice or hospital - is heavily dependent on your wealth, geographical location and whether you have private health insurance. </p>
<p>These days, private cover extends to specialised palliative care services, providing a level and quality of care not always available in the public sector. Death denial will thus adversely impact on the most vulnerable in Australian society. </p>
<p>Taboo or not, death and dying are part of a conversation we all need to have. If nothing else, doing so will ensure our choices are respected at the end of life, the best death possible for each of us is within reach, and the vulnerable do not suffer. </p>
<p>Denial has its advantages – protecting us from things we are not ready to face. But it’s now the major barrier to ensuring that a life otherwise well-lived ends with a good enough death. </p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/34056/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alex Broom receives funding from the Australian Research Council. He is a member of the Australian Labour Party</span></em></p>
For most of us, death conjures up strong feelings. We project all kinds of fears onto it. We worry about it, dismiss it, laugh it off, push it aside or don’t think about it at all. Until we have to. Of…
Alex Broom, Associate Professor of Sociology & Australian Research Council Future Fellow , The University of Queensland
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33687
2014-11-24T04:28:02Z
2014-11-24T04:28:02Z
Death and the selfie: welcome to a grave new world
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64093/original/rgc9w8yk-1415595436.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Do selfies belong at funerals?</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Daniel Incandela</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Funerals increasingly employ digital media; and a <a href="http://www.cis.unimelb.edu.au/research/groups/interaction-design/digital-commemoration/people/">growing body of research</a> addresses the intersection of digital culture and traditional memorialising practices. </p>
<p>Commonly-used digital media include PowerPoint slides prepared in advance by family, friends, and sometimes the deceased themselves. Less common, but increasing in popularity, is the use of video streaming to screen the funeral for remote friends and family. </p>
<p>The use of mobile phones and cameras by mourners to capture proceedings and share them on social media sites is also becoming increasingly common. </p>
<p>Take the use of Instagram at funerals. </p>
<p>Instagram, as most readers will be aware, allows its users to take photographs, tag and apply filters to these images, and share them. Such apps form part of the “networked cameras” on our mobile devices – incorporating wireless internet, mobile and camera-phone hardware, and image-sharing software.</p>
<p>This allows for instantaneous recording and sharing, including “news” about mundane and ephemeral experiences, and reflects a wider historical shift in social media, from text to image. </p>
<p>The most frequent type of photograph tagged with #funeral is the “funeral selfie”, a use of Instagram that has provoked considerable controversy. In 2013, the media’s attention was drawn to the Tumblr <a href="http://selfiesatfunerals.tumblr.com/">Selfies at Funerals</a>, along with other series of “inappropriate” selfies: “selfies at serious places”, “selfies with homeless people”, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/death-tourism-auschwitz-selfies-and-online-souvenirs-29635">selfies at Auschwitz</a>. </p>
<p>Funeral selfie-takers were accused of diverting attention away from the deceased, while ignoring the gravity and respect required by a funeral.</p>
<h2>Research</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.cis.unimelb.edu.au/research/groups/interaction-design/digital-commemoration/people/">Our research into digital commemoration </a> has revealed funeral selfies are mostly taken in domestic locations prior to rather than during a service, challenging assumptions and media-panics around teenagers being disrespectful during funeral services.</p>
<p>In addition to selfies, the funeral hashtag was populated by images including group and family shots, often featuring smiling faces. Nearly all group shots appear to have been taken at gatherings or wake-like events following the funeral or memorial service, as opposed to during the service itself. </p>
<p>These smiling faces reflect a wider cultural shift from funeral rituals that mourn the dead to those that celebrate the life of the deceased.</p>
<p>Other types of funeral images draw attention to vehicles in the funeral procession, to locations, places or buildings. These appear to be efforts to capture and communicate the mood and affect of the event by focusing on elements of the natural environment such as the sky, or built environment, such as a church. </p>
<p>While many of the funeral photographs were dedicated to the funerals of family or friends, our analysis also revealed a range of other uses for the hashtag. These included images highlighting the “death” of inanimate objects, especially digital devices such as mobile phones and laptops. </p>
<p>There were photographs commemorating the death of a pet or other animal, typically featuring burial in the earth. The interrelation of media forms and the flow of content across these forms were further accentuated by the prominence of memes and popular culture references.</p>
<p>Many funeral selfies and pictures with the #funeral hashtag appear to be an attempt to share the experience of grief, placing emphasis on the significance of the context in which the image was taken. </p>
<p>The act of sharing photographs associated with funerals through Instagram largely serves a communicative function. We contend the central aim of sharing these images is to signify presence, to share an important context and affective situation with a wider social network. </p>
<p>Technology permits ever-increasing circles of important people, often dispersed over great distances, to be imagined as present, and this suggests a continuing and changing relationship between death and photography. </p>
<h2>Photos of the dead</h2>
<p>The association between photography and the dead is as old as photography itself. In the late 19th century, following the invention of the daguerreotype, post-mortem photography was a not uncommon practice. </p>
<p>That slowly changed, and by the mid-20th century the dead body was largely hidden, both literally and in photographs. Images of the living person played a bigger role in family memories. </p>
<p>The prevalence of individual portraits, group images and images of funeral rituals and funeral materials indicates another shift in the vernacular uses of photography associated with death.</p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33687/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bjorn Nansen receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Martin Gibbs receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michael Arnold receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tamara Kohn receives funding from ARC</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>James Meese does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Funerals increasingly employ digital media; and a growing body of research addresses the intersection of digital culture and traditional memorialising practices. Commonly-used digital media include PowerPoint…
Bjorn Nansen, Research Fellow in Computing and Information Systems, The University of Melbourne
James Meese, Research fellow, The University of Melbourne
Martin Gibbs, Senior Lecturer in Computing and Information Systems, The University of Melbourne
Michael Arnold, Senior Lecturer of Social Studies of Technology, The University of Melbourne
Tamara Kohn, Associate professor, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33586
2014-11-18T19:26:52Z
2014-11-18T19:26:52Z
The 27 Club is a myth: 56 is the bum note for musicians
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64809/original/46434kj4-1416287125.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Jimi Hendrix is a member of the so-called 27 Club – a very exclusive club, as it turns out.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Eduardo Miranda</span></span></figcaption></figure><blockquote>
<p>I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member. – Groucho Marx</p>
<p>Now he’s gone and joined that stupid club. I told him not to … – Kurt Cobain’s mother upon hearing of the death of her son</p>
</blockquote>
<p>What do Otis Redding, Gram Parsons, Nick Drake, Jimmy McCulloch, James Ramey (aka Baby Huey), Bryan Osper, and Jon Guthrie have in common? </p>
<p>What about Tim Buckley, Gregory Herbert, Zenon de Fleur, Nick Babeu, Shannon Hoon, Beverly Kenney, and Bobby Bloom? </p>
<p>And Alan Wilson, Jesse Belvin, Rudy Lewis, Gary Thain, Kristen Pfaff, Ron “Pigpen” McKernan, Pete de Freitas, Raymond “Freaky Tah” Rogers, Helmut Köllen, and Linda Jones?</p>
<p>They are all dead pop musicians. The first group died aged 26; the second group died aged 28; and the third group died aged 27. </p>
<p>In a population of dead musicians spanning <a href="https://theconversation.com/stairway-to-hell-life-and-death-in-the-pop-music-industry-32735">seven decades from 1950 to 2010</a> for which an accurate age of death could be identified (n=11,054), 1.2% (n=128) died at 26, 1.4% (n=153) died at 28 and 1.3% (n=144) died at 27. </p>
<p>Age 56 had the highest frequency of deaths (2.2%; n=239). Notables dying at this age include Eddie Rabbitt, Tammy Wynette, Mimi Farina, Johnny Ramone, Chris LeDoux, Vandy “Smokey” Hampton, and Charles “Baby” Tate. Below is a visual representation of the percentages of deaths at each age.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=596&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=596&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=596&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=749&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=749&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64938/original/image-20141119-7522-1std1f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=749&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>So why isn’t there a 56 Club or a 28 Club? Is it because Brian Jones (drowning), Jimi Hendrix (aspirated vomitus from barbiturate overdose), Janis Joplin (heroin overdose), Jim Morrison (drug-induced heart attack), Kurt Cobain (suicide by gunshot) and Amy Winehouse (alcohol poisoning) all died aged 27? </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=631&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=631&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=631&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=792&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=792&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64804/original/55dzpyf7-1416285998.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=792&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Kurt Cobain.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Marsh</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>All were tortured souls who reached pop stardom and died tragically at their zenith. Perhaps we need to consider a change of name for this group – from the 27 Club to “The Tragic Six” or “The Tragic Seven” if we include Robert Johnson?</p>
<p>There are many more musicians who died at the age of 27 than these six (or seven) – there were another 137 in my population including the very notable musicians named earlier. So …</p>
<h2>What percentage of pop musicians needs to die at age 27 to support the existence of the 27 Club?</h2>
<p>Here is a thought exercise we can submit to statistical scrutiny to answer the question: how many pop musicians need to die at the age of 27 to justify the notion of a 27 Club. The actual proportion is 1.3%. Do we need 1.4%, 1.5%, 1.6%, 2% or 2.5% of popular musicians to die at the age of 27 to conclude that age 27 is associated with a higher risk of death than other ages? </p>
<p>We can test this question using a single sample <a href="http://www.r-tutor.com/elementary-statistics/goodness-fit/chi-squared-test-independence">ChiSq</a> test, which assesses whether there is a significant difference between the expected frequencies (i.e., specified proportions of deaths at 27) and observed frequency of actual deaths. </p>
<p>As the table shows, a minimum of 1.5% to 1.6% of deaths in the population need to occur at age 27 to “justify” the 27 Club statistically. It is at this number that the ChiSq value exceeds the critical ChiSq. In other words, the actual number of deaths is significantly less than the number that would need to die at 27 if the 27 Club hypothesis were correct based on numbers alone. </p>
<p>But even at 1.6% of deaths occurring at 27, few would argue that this constitutes a sufficiently large proportion of deaths.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=315&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=315&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=315&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64939/original/image-20141119-7522-1bq0qpf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=396&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Increased risk of death extends beyond age 27 to early adulthood and middle age</h2>
<p>The idea of the 27 Club has been imprinted into the collective imagination by books on the subject – such as <a href="http://www.amazon.com/27-History-through-Morrison-Winehouse/dp/0306821680/ref=la_B001IOH9LK_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1415056518&sr=1-1">Howard Sounes’s biographical book 27</a>, on the big six 27-ers, Sarah Milne’s <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Curse-27-Common-Forever/dp/1907823220/ref=pd_sim_b_2/279-7568860-4074315?ie=UTF8&refRID=0JWH7RB9D34S6VFV616V">wider coverage</a> of pop musicians who have died at 27, and Michael Owens’ more <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-27-Club-Why-Important/dp/0473206846">fanciful treatise</a> on the significance of the age of 27, together with continued media fascination with the notion. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=781&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=781&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=781&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=981&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=981&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63590/original/xqfnt52f-1415056253.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=981&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Janis Joplin.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Columbia Records - Billboard. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But other investigations into the 27 Club, for example, by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6062384-the-27s">Eric Segalstad</a>, <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22187325">Martin Wolkewitz</a>, and mine, have concluded that the age of 27 does not bestow any greater risk of death in popular musicians than other ages. </p>
<p>Notwithstanding, all of these studies have identified an increased risk of death in pop musicians during the younger decades of the lifespan compared with the general population. </p>
<p>Sampling strategy and sample size varied between studies but the conclusions were essentially the same, <a href="https://theconversation.com/stairway-to-hell-life-and-death-in-the-pop-music-industry-32735">as in my recent research findings</a>, that pop musicians die younger than the general population. </p>
<p>Wolkewitz and his colleagues studied the 1,046 musicians who had a number-one album in the UK between 1956 and 2007 and found that the death rate per 100 musician years for age 27 (0.57 deaths) was similar for other ages: age 25 (0.56 deaths) and 32 (0.54 deaths). </p>
<p>They concluded there was no peak in risk at 27 years, but observed a two- to three-fold increase in risk of death for British pop musicians with number-one albums between 20 to 39 years compared with the general UK population.</p>
<h2>The 27 Club is not just about the numbers</h2>
<p>I would like to give some comfort to those who might grieve the demise of the 27 Club. </p>
<p>While the actual numbers of pop musician deaths don’t show a spike in deaths at age 27 and hence do not support the 27 Club, there appear to be qualities shared by the 27-ers that stand them apart from many other deceased young pop musicians, which may go some way to understanding how this club entered the pop culture psyche. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=409&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64805/original/bqcpgfty-1416286239.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Jim Morrison.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">SongLyrics</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These qualities include exceptional talent, the contribution of groundbreaking innovations in their musical genre, intense psychological pain, a squalid death at their peak, and immortalisation – each of “the tragic six” has become a cult figure. </p>
<p>Jimi Hendrix <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/music/artists/jimi-hendrix/biography">was described</a> in Rolling Stone as:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>the greatest guitarist of all time […] one of the biggest cultural figures of the Sixties, a psychedelic voodoo child who spewed clouds of distortion and pot smoke.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>His unrepeatable virtuosity on the electric guitar received the <a href="https://rockhall.com/inductees/the-jimi-hendrix-experience/bio/">following citation</a> in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[Hendrix] expanded the range and vocabulary of the electric guitar into areas no musician has ever ventured before. His boundless drive, technical ability and creative application of such effects as wah-wah and distortion forever transformed the sound of rock and roll.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Janis Joplin, “<a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/style/features/joplin.htm">the greatest white blues mama who ever lived</a>”, was crowned “First Lady” and “Queen” of Rock and Roll. She died only two weeks after Hendrix. Although the official cause of death was heroin overdose, Janis fell into a “<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/188148.Buried_Alive">yawning chasm of tortured loneliness</a>”. Then, “the life was gone, the legend was born”.</p>
<p>Just a year later, in 1971, the wild, handsome, charismatic Jim Morrison exited the pop music scene in similar fashion. Because of the proximity of these three deaths, the kernel of the idea of a 27 Club was born. </p>
<p>Brian Jones (d. 1969) and Robert Johnson (“King of the Delta Blues Singers”) (d. 1938) became retrospective members; Kurt Cobain (d. 1994) and Amy Winehouse (d. 2011) have reinforced the idea in recent times. </p>
<p>Immortalised in death, a <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/music/2014/sep/14/amy-winehouse-statue-unveiled-camden-london">life-size bronze statue</a> of Amy Winehouse has just been unveiled in London.</p>
<p><br>
<strong>See also:</strong><br></p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/stairway-to-hell-life-and-death-in-the-pop-music-industry-32735">Stairway to hell: life and death in the pop music industry</a></p>
<p><em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33586/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dianna Kenny receives funding from the Australia Research Council and the Australian Council for the Arts.</span></em></p>
I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member. – Groucho Marx Now he’s gone and joined that stupid club. I told him not to … – Kurt Cobain’s mother upon hearing of the death of her son What…
Dianna Theadora Kenny, Professor of Psychology and Music, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33628
2014-11-18T04:04:16Z
2014-11-18T04:04:16Z
Indigenous Australia’s diverse memorialisation of the dead
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64690/original/6rh755g9-1416200296.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Archie Roach performs at the funeral of Indigenous boxing champion Lionel Rose at Festival Hall in Melbourne, 2011. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP/Julian Smith</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Beliefs and ceremonies associated with death in Indigenous Australia are diverse. Death and the deceased are sacred to Indigenous Australians and ceremonies differ between communities.</p>
<p>They may involve lengthy ceremonies lasting several days with strict protocols around language, names, images and other possessions. Alternatively deaths might be marked by funerals that can include images and speaking the deceased person’s name, performances and other tributes. </p>
<p>While some may argue this type of funeral service is a western practice adopted by Indigenous people, anyone who has attended an Indigenous funeral can attest to the way Indigenous people adapt the ceremony to suit local cultural protocols and norms. </p>
<p>This was evident at the late Aboriginal activist Charles “Chicka” Dixon’s <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2010-03-31/chicka-dixon-farewelled-at-state-funeral/387808">state funeral</a> at the Sydney Town Hall in 2010. The ceremony featured Aboriginal body paint, the Black Power salute, and the coffin was draped in the Aboriginal flag. </p>
<p>Like ceremonies for death, there are many and varied ways Indigenous people memorialise the deceased. Rituals and memorials honouring the life and death of family and community members are important in the facilitation of healing. </p>
<p>Memorialisation is an ever-present human practice and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AboriginalIdentityOnline">my research</a> into Aboriginal identity and community online reveals that there are some emerging trends in Indigenous Australia. </p>
<p>One such trend is memorial tattoos; the other is the rise of memorial pages on Facebook. </p>
<h2>Memorial tattoos</h2>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/63528/original/s78dhkzt-1415000353.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Christopher O'Brien’s tattoo.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Tattoos and mourning rituals have been around for centuries in many cultures but they are a fairly recent phenomenon in Indigenous Australia. Memorial tattoos provide an abiding presence of the deceased person. </p>
<p>Memorial tattoos also communicate personal and community identity – like the death of the loved one, the tattoo is permanent. The tattoo is a constant reminder keeping the memory and story alive for ones self and for others. </p>
<p>One participant in my research, a man named Christopher O’Brien (who is happy to be identified), has shared his ink story (see main image) which is a tribute to his late Uncle Kevin. As Christopher explained:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The Aboriginal Flag represents my culture, heritage, country and passion as an Aboriginal man. The dates are the birth and death dates of my Uncle. The foot prints going down my spine (the core of my journey in life) from the Western Suburbs of Sydney tracking down to my Country/community. </p>
<p>The footsteps then lead to the “Long-neck Turtle” (my totem) of the Murray River (as my mob are freshwater people). The turtle is designed with lines, which represents my “clan” Yorta Yorta. The eucalyptus gum tree leaves are significant trees in/on my country (Cummeroogunja), as is the Murray Rivers waters. </p>
<p>Within the waters is scribed my clan “Yorta Yorta” and below that “Cummeroogunja” – which means “Our Home”. Then at the bottom of my spine is the big red Kangaroo, which is a significant animal representing our ancestors, who have come back to look after us (our people) and our country (land).</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Memorials on Facebook</h2>
<p>The other trend is memorials on Facebook. </p>
<p>Indigenous Australians – like most other people – are avid social-media users and Facebook is by far the most popular site. There is no doubt social media is transforming the way we interact with each other and how we connect to other people at a local, regional, national and global level. </p>
<p>Facebook and other social-network sites facilitate this interaction and allow users to maintain relationships across vast distances and time zones, thereby increasing social connectivity. This is extremely important as Indigenous people can be separated from kin and community as they seek financial and educational opportunities. </p>
<p>Social network sites have transformed the way we keep in touch and distribute news – including the news of death. Social media is very effective for sharing information with interested or relevant others and this is particularly the case when there is a death.</p>
<p>One of my participants spoke about using Facebook to keep in touch:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Yeah. People put up a status of sympathy to the family. If they can’t make the funeral, they will say sorry on Facebook. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>When it comes to cultural protocols around images there are varying opinions. For some, photos are ways of honouring the deceased; for others they are forbidden. One participant said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Some people have got different feelings, some families like people putting photos on Facebook, but some people don’t like it. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Indigenous Australians often refer to memorial pages as “Sorry Pages”:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Sometimes, if that person’s family passed, send condolences to that family. Write things, “thinking of you”. But they don’t have sorry page. They send it to me, and I message it to other family. Like “miss him, he was a good person”. Some people like, but some people don’t like it. </p>
</blockquote>
<h2>R.I.P trolls</h2>
<p><a href="https://accan.org.au/files/death_and_the_internet.pdf">R.I.P trolling</a> is a concern – when instigators post abusive comments and memes on to Sorry Pages dedicated to the deceased. </p>
<p>This type of online vandalism is not a new phenomenon for Indigenous people who are often <a href="http://www.mamamia.com.au/news/weve-produced-humans-full-of-extraordinary-hate-speech">targeted</a> by racism and abuse on social media. Sadly, even when Facebook removes offensive pages and blocks content for Australian users the content remains available for users outside of Australia and is <a href="http://ohpi.org.au/facebook-wix-act-on-aboriginal-memes/">shared and reposted </a> repeatedly.</p>
<p>In spite of the presence of the trolls, Indigenous people continue to use social media tools to adapt new ways of memorialising the dead and sharing condolences via Sorry Pages. </p>
<p>Tattoos and Facebook pages may not conform to everyone’s expectations of Indigenous cultural practice but these emerging trends help facilitate healing as well as demonstrating the diversity of Indigenous commemorations across the nation. </p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33628/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bronwyn Carlson receives funding from the Australian Research Council, Discovery Indigenous Grant ($205,000.00) Project Title: Aboriginal identity and community online: a sociological exploration of Aboriginal peoples’ use of online social media (2013-2015).</span></em></p>
Beliefs and ceremonies associated with death in Indigenous Australia are diverse. Death and the deceased are sacred to Indigenous Australians and ceremonies differ between communities. They may involve…
Bronwyn Carlson, Senior Lecturer, Indigenous Studies, University of Wollongong
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33688
2014-11-14T01:01:04Z
2014-11-14T01:01:04Z
From here to Eterni.me – the quest for digital immortality
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64095/original/5kkmfzfp-1415596677.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Status update: this party's dead, and so am I. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Eddi van W.</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Earlier this year, start-up <a href="http://eterni.me/">Eterni.me</a> emerged from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Entrepreneurship Development program. The company’s tagline – “simply become immortal” – quickly attracted media headlines. </p>
<p>Eterni.me is developing a set of algorithms that will learn to emulate a dead person’s personality by analysing digital footprint of the dead. The algorithms would then function as an artificial intelligence for a 3D avatar, <a href="http://www.fastcompany.com/3025797/tech-forecast/eternime-wants-to-let-you-skype-your-family-from-the-grave">which could</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>interact with and offer information and advice to your family and friends after you pass away. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Eterni.me develops a representation of an individual’s personality through algorithms, pattern matching and data mining. <a href="http://eterni.me/">The company</a> will collect:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>almost everything that you create during your lifetime and process … this huge amount of information using complex Artificial Intelligence algorithms.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This incorporates data from:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Facebook, Twitter, e-mail, photos, video, location information, and even Google Glass and Fitbit devices. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>A public launch could be up to five years away as the company waits for advances in artificial intelligence applications. But, despite this wait, within weeks of the start-up’s launch, tens of thousands of users had signed up on a waiting list for the service. Marius Ursache, Eterni.me’s chief executive, is publicly confident of the company’s success, because, <a href="http://metro.co.uk/2014/03/10/live-forever-would-you-like-to-become-a-digital-avatar-after-you-die-4460606/">as he puts it</a>: “Nobody wants to be forgotten.”</p>
<p>The company has emerged from a wider research and development context, where a range of projects and companies are working towards the goal of digital immortality. New media commentator Adam Ostrow outlined the possibilities of this field in his 2011 TED talk, “<a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/adam_ostrow_after_your_final_status_update?language=en">After Your Final Status Update</a>”. He argues that computers will soon be able to: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>[U]nderstand human language and process [and] analyse an entire life’s worth of content … it’s going to become possible for our digital personas to continue to interact in the real world long after we’re gone …</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Ostrow went on to anticipate a future where the collective content uploaded will be embedded in robotic or holographic representations of the deceased, which could interact with the living based on the archive of content produced by a person over a lifetime. </p>
<p>For the likes of Ostrow, Eterni.me is just the beginning signs of a computer-assisted immortality, a dream that sounds like a plot from a science-fiction novel. But these “digital afterlives” raise a range of important ethical issues around what it means to be a person. </p>
<p>The concept of personhood is directly linked to being able to act in the world in relation to other living beings. In the contemporary West dying is increasingly linked to hospitalisation and palliative care. In these spaces denying or relieving the dying of authority and decision-making is common. </p>
<p>As health anthropologist <a href="http://www.cphs.mvm.ed.ac.uk/people/staffProfile.php?profile=jlawton">Julia Lawton</a> has explained, this allows people to slowly “fall out of the category of personhood” as they prepare for death. </p>
<p>In contrast, these new technologies directly challenge those contemporary cultural and social rituals that presume a diminishment of personhood around death. These research and development efforts work towards giving the dead a limited form of digital agency and potentially allowing them to intervene in a much more capable fashion than when they were alive, such as when they were elderly or terminally ill and close to their biological death.</p>
<p>Furthermore, if personhood partly rests on being able to act in the world in relation to the living, once we consider technologies such as Eterni.me, things become complicated. </p>
<p>What is the cultural and social status of this digital persona? Do they have an economic and legal status? How are our own duties and rights as living beings measured against theirs? How should the living treat, engage and interact with these entities? Is it possible to maintain intimacy through shared interaction with the dead? </p>
<p>If digital personae can effectively act in the world, how does a notion of personhood accommodate them? Or to put it another way, where our only point of social contact is through Twitter, and the deceased tweet, are they still “people” of the same order as those who tweeted us before death?</p>
<p>Interestingly, these services could be limited by their own technological innovation. Consistency is privileged by pattern-matching analytics. Improvisation, surprise or other unpredictable actions that living people always engage in are, at best, clumsily simulated by randomising functions. </p>
<p>It may be easier for these services to mimic a target than to engage in random acts. But the ability for people to say or do something utterly unpredictable is an important marker of being human. That’s difficult to achieve in digital efforts toward a social immortality, and so these innovations may ultimately disappoint consumers.</p>
<p>Eterni.me’s work is largely speculative at the moment. The company is yet to produce a “living” avatar of a dead person. But we suggest the presence of a digital afterlife is not just a novelty, as various commercial services have presented it. </p>
<p>Instead it challenges us to rethink what it means to be a person and raises a host of issues that are important to address as this and other efforts towards digital immortality emerge.</p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33688/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bjorn Nansen receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Martin Gibbs receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michael Arnold receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tamara Kohn receives funding from ARC</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>James Meese does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Earlier this year, start-up Eterni.me emerged from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Entrepreneurship Development program. The company’s tagline – “simply become immortal” – quickly attracted media…
James Meese, Research fellow, The University of Melbourne
Bjorn Nansen, Research Fellow in Computing and Information Systems, The University of Melbourne
Martin Gibbs, Senior Lecturer in Computing and Information Systems, The University of Melbourne
Michael Arnold, Senior Lecturer of Social Studies of Technology, The University of Melbourne
Tamara Kohn, Associate professor, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/32959
2014-11-12T19:30:27Z
2014-11-12T19:30:27Z
Death and families – when ‘normal’ grief can last a lifetime
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/63910/original/z94yrc5f-1415321021.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">We know deaths in families have a profound psychological impact. Why, then, do we expect grief to be a tidy process?</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Michael Shaffner/Flickr</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>When I was three years old my brother was born. He had a heart condition, and after being in and out of hospital for the whole of his little life, he died when I was five. The time after he was gone was a long and empty period of terrible loneliness and the hollow aching of grief. His death has quite literally marked me, the way all tragedies mark us, particularly when they happen when we’re small.</p>
<p>Even after all these years, there is still a raw place inside that is close enough to the surface to open up again with any big blow and all but double its impact. Even after years of therapy. Even with a long and involved period of training to be a therapist. Even with everything I supposedly know about losses and their impact. </p>
<p>There’s nothing particularly special about this story. While most of us imagine grief should be temporary, our optimism about the transience of loss is not supported by the facts. The death of children and of siblings <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.17413729.2010.00601.x/abstract?deniedAccessCustomisedMessage=&userIsAuthent">affects the quality </a> of the rest of our lives. The death of a parent when we are young has [long-term measurable impacts ](http://www.psy-journal.com/article/S0165-1781(1400632-5/abstract?cc=y) on our mental health.</p>
<p>Closure doesn’t appear to be an accurate metaphor for the general course of our human bereavements. Instead, “normal” grief <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/famp.12005/abstract?deniedAccessCustomisedMessage=&userIsAuthenticated=false">can last in some form</a> for a lifetime.</p>
<p>But we don’t appear as a society to be too keen on the facts when it comes to grieving. </p>
<p>Like many therapists, I get a lot of people who come through the door thinking there’s something wrong with them because they’re feeling the loss of someone who has died, left or disappeared long ago. Often they ask me why they still sometimes cry. </p>
<p>Sometimes I ask them to tell me why they think they shouldn’t still be sad. And most of the time we come to the conclusion they’re in my office so I can somehow put a cork in it for them so they can stop upsetting their families and the rest of the world.</p>
<p>Because somewhere we still believe that grief is contagious, and that if we’re too heavily exposed to the grief of others, we’ll catch it. As if sadness were an airborne disease, we avoid exposure by keeping our distance. This is a canny little psychological two-step that allows us to pretend the grieving person in front of us is suffering in a way that we will never be forced to suffer. </p>
<p>When of course they’re simply exposing us to what we may have once felt and will most definitely feel some time in the future. We put an “if” firmly in front of our fears of death. If I die, if you were to die, if my baby dies. The bereaved threaten to take all of our “ifs” away.</p>
<p>Years ago, on the phone to my long-widowed grandmother, I was bellyaching about having a small child and never ever having any time alone. Between my work-at-home husband and my baby, I was going mad for lack of solitude. She reassured me with cronish honesty that my life wouldn’t be this way for ever. </p>
<p>You will be alone again, she said, you will have all the time in the world to yourself one day. I couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.</p>
<p>We want to avoid the brutality of death at all costs. And one of the ways we do this is to shoot death’s messenger. A <a href="https://theconversation.com/garners-this-house-of-grief-ducks-some-hard-questions-33255">recent comment</a> posted on The Conversation about Helen Garner’s latest work, referred to her as “ghoulish” for her focus on death and dying. It’s an interesting choice of words. </p>
<p>Ghouls are meant to be disgusting creatures who feed on the corpses of the dead. Ghouls remind us of how thin the line is between our lives and the grave. When they knock on our doors at Halloween we’re supposed to scream in fright and offer them sweet things to buy them off, in the hope they’ll settle back down in their tombs and won’t come again to bother us. But they are sure to return, they always do.</p>
<p>Since the death of my brother 43 years ago, a great deal has changed for the <a href="http://www.nursingcenter.com/lnc/journalarticle?Article_ID=952905">better in our understanding </a> of grief. If he were dying today, we would not be asked to leave the hospital when the short window of visiting hours was over, leaving him alone and us bereft. </p>
<p>My parents would not have to field suggestions that perhaps a funeral is no place for a child. He would be included in a relative’s rendition of our family tree, instead of left off in order to avoid being “morbid”. We would be offered counselling and no one would suggest the birth of my sister would make it better, as if she was some kind of human spare tire.</p>
<p>And of course this would all have been better. Immeasurably so. </p>
<p>But what is still so hard for us to face, is that his death, like all unwanted deaths really, would still have been an unmitigated disaster. It still would have hurt like hell. It would still have opened a door that could never fully be closed again. </p>
<p>And maybe that’s the grief work we have yet to do as a culture. To make more room for the ghouls that live among us and find their way into all of our houses, one day, bringing grief that takes its own sweet time to soften.</p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/stairway-to-hell-life-and-death-in-the-pop-music-industry-32735">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/32959/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Zoë Krupka does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
When I was three years old my brother was born. He had a heart condition, and after being in and out of hospital for the whole of his little life, he died when I was five. The time after he was gone was…
Zoë Krupka, PhD Student Faculty of Health Sciences, La Trobe University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33739
2014-11-10T19:30:43Z
2014-11-10T19:30:43Z
It’s Remembrance Day, so what do we owe the dead?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64055/original/g9gkr9tw-1415578483.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The dead can't be insulted by our failure to honour them. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Bob Prosser</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><a>Remembrance Day </a> is an occasion when people are supposed to remember and honour those who died in their nation’s wars. But why should we believe that this obligation exists? </p>
<p>The dead are dead. They can’t be gratified by our remembrance or insulted by a failure to honour them. </p>
<p>Those facts do not prevent us from thinking that we have duties to the dead. Most of us believe we ought to remember people who made sacrifices for our sake. Most of us believe we ought to keep promises made to the dead, to protect their reputations from malicious lies and to fulfil their bequests. </p>
<h2>Can we harm the dead?</h2>
<p>The American philosopher George Pitcher <a href="http://spot.colorado.edu/%7Epasnau/seminar/pitcher.pdf">argues</a> that we have duties to the dead because we can benefit them or cause them harm. A son who solemnly promises his dying father to bury him in the family plot and instead sells his body to a medical school “betrays” his father. Pitcher does not think that the existence of this harm depends on having a capacity to suffer. </p>
<p>But other philosophers, such as <a href="http://www.phil.vt.edu/wott/wott.html">Walter Ott,</a> <a href="https://philosophynow.org/issues/89/Are_There_Duties_To_The_Dead">refuse to accept</a> we can harm or benefit someone who is incapable of being affected by our actions. They dismiss the belief in duties to the dead as a superstition. We can celebrate Remembrance Day to call attention to the horrors of war or to give comfort to the survivors of the dead. But in their opinion it is wrong to believe that we owe anything to the dead.</p>
<p>This philosophical disagreement leaves the impression that duties we take for granted are more difficult to understand than we supposed. </p>
<h2>Intergenerational obligation</h2>
<p>In my opinion we do have duties to the dead and the best way of understanding why they exist and what they mean is to locate them in the framework of our intergenerational obligations. </p>
<p>Like Pitcher, people commonly assume they can make requests that their survivors are morally obliged to fulfil. But moral demands bring with them a requirement of reciprocity. You should be prepared to do for others what you demand that people do for you. So if you think you have a right to impose a moral duty on your successors then you should be prepared to fulfil similar demands that were made, or could have been made, by those now dead.</p>
<p>When you are dead you won’t care whether your survivors fulfil your requests. But this has no bearing on your moral reasoning. You care now. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/64050/original/k2qb7nyy-1415578083.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Steve Rhodes</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Duties to the dead can be regarded as belonging to an intergenerational social contract. We impose duties on our successors and in return we carry out duties to our predecessors. The communitarian philosopher <a href="http://www.deshalit.huji.ac.il/">Avner de Shalit</a> argues in his book <a href="http://books.google.com.au/books/about/Why_Posterity_Matters.html?id=FWHkhfYxxuQC&redir_esc=y">Why Posterity Matters</a> (1995) that present members of a community should regard themselves as the partners of past generations in defining and working for a common good. A partnership brings with it obligations to past, as well to present and future members. </p>
<p>This way of understanding why we have duties to the dead helps us to work out what we ought to do for them. If we have good reasons for demanding our posthumous reputations should be protected from malicious lies, we ought to accept a duty to protect the reputations of those now dead. If we think our survivors ought to respect our wishes about the disposal of our bodies or property, then we are also obliged to respect similar wishes of the dead. </p>
<h2>Asking survivors to act</h2>
<p>The demands we make of our survivors have to be backed up with good moral reasoning. This puts limits on what we can demand of them. </p>
<p>Some people want their children to adhere to the traditional values of their religion, family or community. But this desire cannot be translated into a legitimate moral demand. </p>
<p>Being true to a tradition is not a requirement that people can reasonably impose on their successors or have imposed on them by their predecessors. People of each generation are entitled to choose their own values and ways of life. But it is not so unreasonable for people to insist their successors should make an effort to understand and appreciate what they were trying to achieve.</p>
<p>The same holds for the values of a nation or a political group. Present Australian Labor Party members ought to honour the contributions of <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/gough-whitlam">Gough Whitlam</a> and other leaders of the past but they have no obligation to adhere to Whitlam’s vision of Australia. They are entitled to determine the direction of their party. </p>
<p>On the other hand, in determining this direction they are obliged to consider what the ideals of past generations can contribute to present concerns. That’s a reasonable demand on those who belong to an intergenerational partnership.</p>
<p>People can have different ideas about what this partnership demands. They can disagree about what contributions matter and how the dead should be remembered. They can have different views about what requests they are obliged to fulfil. </p>
<p>But these differences of opinion do not undermine the basic principle of this partnership: that the interests and contributions of those now dead are a moral concern for the living. </p>
<p><br></p>
<p><em>The Conversation is currently running <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">a series on Death and Dying</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33739/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Janna Thompson received funding from the Australian Research Council
for a project on intergenerational justice.</span></em></p>
Remembrance Day is an occasion when people are supposed to remember and honour those who died in their nation’s wars. But why should we believe that this obligation exists? The dead are dead. They can’t…
Janna Thompson, Professor of Philosophy, La Trobe University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/33459
2014-11-06T01:03:05Z
2014-11-06T01:03:05Z
Losing the plot: death is permanent, but your grave isn’t
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62800/original/jswyg7mz-1414373558.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Space can be at a premium in cemeteries ... and when it runs out, reusing old graves is an option.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/infomatique/5545160639">William Murphy/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Headstones at the Dudley Park cemetery in Payneham, South Australia, were recently bulldozed as part of the ongoing “<a href="http://southaustraliangravesunderthreat.wordpress.com/2013/10/07/are-any-of-your-ancestors-on-dudley-parks-latest-redevelopment-list/">recycling</a>” of more than 400 graves. Some people were shocked to realise that gravesites are not permanent and many have expressed their “<a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/526578220734730/">disgust</a>” and concern over the practice.</p>
<p>The reuse of graves is far from a modern phenomenon, caused by exponential population growth and overcrowding in towns and cities. Reusing the same place for burials is a tradition that has been repeated time and again in different cultures across the world, for thousands of years. </p>
<p>Over the entirety of human history, around <a href="http://www.prb.org/Publications/Articles/2002/HowManyPeopleHaveEverLivedonEarth.aspx">108 billion people</a> have lived – and died. That’s a lot of bodies that need disposing of in some way.</p>
<p>In the early centuries of the Common Era (AD), people in northern Europe reused burial mounds from the earlier <a href="http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/81017/Bronze-Age">Bronze Age</a> and <a href="http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/408894/Neolithic-Period">Neolithic</a> periods. The catacombs beneath Paris were an 18th century solution to cemeteries that were so <a href="http://strangeremains.com/2013/08/29/paris-awe-ssuary-the-bone-filled-catacombs-underneath-the-city-of-lights/">overcrowded</a> bodies were stacked on top of one another. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62801/original/xj7wk3vk-1414373599.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/nathaninsandiego/6145672982">Nathan Rupert/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the 19th century, the garden cemetery movement arose to create more spacious burial grounds — usually on what were then the outskirts of towns and cities. These new cemeteries doubled as places where one could picnic on a Sunday, with children playing games among the headstones and elegant ladies and gentlemen promenading along the avenues. </p>
<p>By romanticising the relationship between the living and the dead the Victorians repurposed the idea of a graveyard from a functional to a recreational space that allowed for continual remembrance of loved ones as part of everyday activities.</p>
<h2>Grave concerns</h2>
<p>In the contemporary world grave recycling is often driven by economic imperatives rather than purely spatial concerns. If the sole source of a cemetery’s income derives from the leasing of plots — as is the case with many independent cemetery trusts — how are they to remain financially viable when all the spaces are filled?</p>
<p>Cemeteries must serve the burial needs of contemporary local communities, and often this can only be accomplished through destroying older graves so that newer interments can take place. </p>
<p>But what is the boundary between a “grave” and a “heritage site”? This varies across jurisdictions. Under the <a href="http://www.legislation.sa.gov.au/LZ/C/A/BURIAL%20AND%20CREMATION%20ACT%202013.aspx">Burial and Cremations Act 2013</a> of South Australia, a site may be reused once an interment right expires — usually after a set period has elapsed and if no relative or other party can be found to take on the right (and the payment for it). </p>
<p>In such a case the burial and its headstone are given the “lift and deepen” treatment. The existing burial is removed and replaced lower down in the grave so that another burial can be included on top. The headstone is either smashed and buried with them, or removed to an inconspicuous place. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NmwFB-bUf2E?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">London is running out of room and considering reusing gravesites.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Before reusing any site, though, the Act requires that details of both the grave and the memorial are recorded photographically and in writing for posterity. Technological advances in recent years means that laser scanning is now a viable option for the recording process and, in all cases, digitisation of the data enables it to be easily made publicly available. </p>
<p>This, at least, retains some of the historical information that contributes to the heritage and social value of these places that would otherwise be destroyed.</p>
<p>If a grave is considered a heritage site, however, different legislation takes precedence. Section 27 of the South Australian <a href="http://www.legislation.sa.gov.au/LZ/C/A/HERITAGE%20PLACES%20ACT%201993.aspx">Heritage Places Act 1993</a> affords blanket protection for all archaeological artefacts, whether known or unknown. Any disturbance then requires a permit. Sometimes archaeologists become involved in the process of reclaiming land in cemeteries. </p>
<h2>Reuse, recycle, research</h2>
<p>Famous Australian examples of the reuse of historical cemeteries in conjunction with archaeological excavation and analysis include the site of <a href="https://espace.library.uq.edu.au/view/UQ:66180/A_Lang_Park_Mystery.pdf">Lang Park</a> in Brisbane, the <a href="https://theconversation.com/should-the-dead-roll-over-to-make-room-for-real-estate-26462">Queen Victoria Market</a> in Melbourne and <a href="http://www.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/learn/sydneys-history/people-and-places/old-sydney-burial-ground">Town Hall</a> in Sydney. </p>
<p>In Adelaide, the archaeological study of the Maesbury cemetery in Kensington, and the St Mary’s cemetery in the suburb of St Mary’s, have led to unique insights into the burial practices and lifestyles of South Australia’s earliest European settlers.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1606&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1606&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1606&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=2019&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=2019&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62920/original/mgm56ykz-1414450174.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=2019&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Kippist headstone.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lynley Wallis</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At Maesbury, only one headstone remained to mark hundreds of bodies now under parkland. This was before a <a href="http://www.flinders.edu.au/ehl/archaeology/research-profile/current-projects/kensington.cfm">Flinders University archaeology team</a> began work at the site. </p>
<p>It was an exciting day when a neighbour came forth with a headstone they had found while digging in their garden (pictured right) making it only the second headstone to survive. </p>
<p>Research revealed that it had marked the grave of three children from one family who died between 1850 and 1863, in the first few decades of the settlement of South Australia. </p>
<p>Infant mortality was scandalously high in 19th century Adelaide but the causes were mysterious. The gravestone speaks to a grief both public and private, when thousands of children died from the vague disease of “<a href="https://sites.google.com/site/petermortonswebsite/home/-after-light/dead-babies">debility</a>”. </p>
<p>At the St Mary’s Anglican Cemetery, archaeologists from Flinders University were invited by the Church to carry out excavations to recover the bodies from a pauper’s area before the land was reused.</p>
<p>This study told us much about the nutritional and health standards of the urban poor. Contrary to expectations, they ate lots of meat (approximately 60% of their diet), but hardly any carbohydrates (wheat or barley). The majority were younger than 15 when they died, probably from infections. Most adult skeletons <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/catalyst/stories/s731576.htm">indicated</a> a hard-working, physically active lifestyle.</p>
<p>As the only study of its kind in South Australia, St Mary’s also highlighted how little we know about the living conditions and lifestyles of South Australia’s early settlers more generally.</p>
<p>All graves contain a story; some touch us more than others, but none of them should be subject to the disrespect of a bulldozer. As <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/eliot_george.shtml">George Eliot</a> reminds us, our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them. </p>
<p><br>
<br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/33459/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Lynley Wallis is National President of the Australian Association of Consulting Archaeologists Inc. and Co-Editor of Australian Archaeology (the journal of the Australian Archaeological Association). Lynley Wallis and Heather Burke received a Flinders University grant to conduct research at the Maesbury Cemetery.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alice Gorman is a full member of the Australian Association of Consulting Archaeologists
Inc.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Heather Burke is Co-Editor of Australian Archaeology, the journal of the Australian Archaeological Association and is a member of the Australasian Society for Historical Archaeology.</span></em></p>
Headstones at the Dudley Park cemetery in Payneham, South Australia, were recently bulldozed as part of the ongoing “recycling” of more than 400 graves. Some people were shocked to realise that gravesites…
Lynley Wallis, Professor, Griffith University
Alice Gorman, Associate Professor in Archaeology and Space Studies, Flinders University
Heather Burke, Associate Professor of Archaeology, Flinders University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/32557
2014-10-29T00:51:58Z
2014-10-29T00:51:58Z
Death isn’t scary – if you’ve had a near-death experience
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61949/original/w2gg2cb3-1413435151.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Seeing beautiful otherworldly scenes and coming to a border of no return are commonly reported features of near-death experiences. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Louish Pixel </span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>At some stage, you will die. You may not know the time, date or circumstance of your death, but you do know it’s inevitable. Contemplating this fact can be uncomfortable. It evokes anxiety and fear in most people.</p>
<p>But not those people who have had a near-death experience (NDE). NDEs are extraordinarily profound mystical or transcendental occurrences, during which the boundaries between space, time and normal perceptual awareness become blurred. </p>
<p>They can include elements such as travel through a tunnel, seeing a bright light, an out-of-body experience, and meeting deceased others and spiritual beings. </p>
<p>They are typically reported by people who have had a close brush with death, or have died and been resuscitated. <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/science-news/11144442/First-hint-of-life-after-death-in-biggest-ever-scientific-study.html">Recent research</a> suggests they occur during the time period when physical functioning is severely compromised or non-existent.</p>
<p>Not all people who have a close brush with death or who are resuscitated have an NDE, nor do those people, on the whole, lose their fear of death. So, it is rather curious that <a href="http://iands.org/about-ndes/key-nde-facts.html?start=4">people who have had an NDE typically report a complete loss of the fear of death</a>.</p>
<p>Why is this so? </p>
<p>Perhaps it is the paradoxically pleasant nature of the experience. Many people report feeling overwhelmingly positive emotions during their NDE, including peace, unconditional love and joy.</p>
<p>In many Western cultures, thinking of death can be so disturbing that unspoken taboos exist. We rarely talk about death, and keep it hidden within the far-reaches of the psyche.</p>
<p>Yet, some people who have had NDEs suggest the apparent <a href="http://www.theepochtimes.com/n3/685927-what-does-death-feel-like-earthquake-survivors-report-pleasant-state-near-death/">experience of death is an altogether pleasant one</a> that should not be feared.</p>
<p>Others say they felt as though they were <a href="http://www.near-death.com/experiences/research11.html">disembodied</a>, and existed as a state of mere consciousness. Seeing one’s body and resuscitation efforts, or other events occurring <a href="http://www.near-death.com/experiences/evidence02.html">outside the vicinity of one’s body</a>, can also happen.</p>
<p>There is a widespread belief in Western cultures that death is the end, but many people who have had an NDE say this is not so – the feeling of having conscious awareness and existing outside of one’s physical body suggests the self does not end. Controversially, NDEs indicate the self may continue, at least for a period of time, after the physical body stops functioning.</p>
<p>Movement through a tunnel, often at great speed, seeing a bright light, meeting deceased others, seeing beautiful otherworldly scenes, and coming to a border of no return, are <a href="http://www.horizonresearch.org/main_page.php?cat_id=274">commonly reported features</a> of an NDE.</p>
<p>Combined, they can cement the belief the NDE provided a glimpse of a world we move to when our physical body dies another realm exists.</p>
<p>There is nobody judging your deeds when you die. Nobody, that is, except yourself. At least, that’s what those who have had an NDE say. </p>
<p>Recent large-scale studies conducted across the <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/science-news/11144442/First-hint-of-life-after-death-in-biggest-ever-scientific-study.html">US, UK, Austria</a> and <a href="http://iands.org/news/news/front-page-news/1052-iands-groups-assist-research-on-the-causes-of-ndes.html">Belgium</a> have provided credible findings to suggest NDEs may actually be real phenomena. But the debate about the “realness” of NDEs is likely to continue for many years, if not decades, to come.</p>
<p>Whether they are verifiably real occurrences that can be scientifically quantified or not is, in many ways, irrelevant. What is significant is that people who have had NDEs universally report a complete loss of the most existential of human fears – something even the most advanced psychotherapies cannot achieve. </p>
<p>People who have had an NDE don’t wish for death. They want to live and fulfil their destiny. But when death finally calls, they will not be afraid. And that is quite extraordinary. </p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>Editor’s note: Natasha will be on hand for an Author Q&A session between 11am and noon ADST tomorrow (October 30). Post any questions about near-death experiences in the comments below.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/32557/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Natasha Tassell-Matamua does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
At some stage, you will die. You may not know the time, date or circumstance of your death, but you do know it’s inevitable. Contemplating this fact can be uncomfortable. It evokes anxiety and fear in…
Natasha Tassell-Matamua, Lecturer, School of Psychology, Massey University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/32735
2014-10-26T19:10:06Z
2014-10-26T19:10:06Z
Stairway to hell: life and death in the pop music industry
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62586/original/9pry7c3h-1414029381.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Musicians such as Amy Winehouse die young at much higher rates than the rest of the population.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA/Andy Rain</span></span></figcaption></figure><blockquote>
<p><em>Art is a cry of distress from those who live out within themselves the destiny of humanity … Inside them turns the movement of the world; only an echo of it leaks out – the work of art</em> Arnold Schoenberg, 1910. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Austrian composer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnold_Schoenberg">Arnold Schoenberg</a>, like many gifted artists throughout history, suffered for his art. Popular artists of the modern era have kept this tradition alive. For all the superficial glamour of the pop music world, let us not delude ourselves - today’s popular music scene is brutal. </p>
<p>The “pop-cultural scrap heap”, to borrow journalist Drew Magary’s <a href="http://www.gq.com/entertainment/celebrities/201206/justin-bieber-gq-june-2012-interview">term</a>, is piled high with the dead or broken bodies of young musicians whose personal and musical aspirations collided with the aspirations of those occupying the commercial edifices erected around them, which turn them into income-generating commodities whose role is to satisfy capricious and ever-changing consumer demands. </p>
<p>Many of those musicians end up feeling suffocated, caged and possessed by their minders, exploiters and fans. And many end up dead.</p>
<h2>How big a problem is the pop music industry, really?</h2>
<p>The rock scene is a volatile mix of glamour, instant wealth, risk-taking, rebellion and psychological distress accompanied by taken-for-granted assumptions that pop musicians will live dangerously, abuse substances and die early. Journalist Amanda Hooten, writing about Robbie Williams, <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/better-man-20140324-35cgc.html">identifies</a> the components of the “classic rock’n’roll script” as “sex, drugs, rehab and bitterness”. </p>
<p>Blogger Jacob Katel <a href="http://blogs.miaminewtimes.com/crossfade/2010/09/top_10_murdered_musicians.php">expresses</a> the same sentiments in a more forthright manner:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[d]ead rock stars are a dime a dozen. They usually drink themselves to death, overdose on narcotics, crash cars, or get on faulty aircraft with drunk pilots …</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62587/original/d3sq3py6-1414029452.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gwar frontman Oderus Ungerus died earlier this year.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">crazybobbles/Flickr</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Previous research does not answer the question</h2>
<p>Why do so many pop musicians die young?</p>
<p>Few studies have systematically examined the popular musician population to ascertain the extent of the problems codified in the media comments above. </p>
<p>Existing studies are limited in scope. Adrian Barnett, for example, tested the “<a href="http://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2011/12/21/3394834.htm">27 club hypothesis</a>”. Tucker, Faulkner and Horvath only <a href="http://www.dacapopress.com/book/us/ebook/27/9780306821691">included</a> a narrow sample of the population, that is, musicians who died between 1959 and 1967. A John Moores University <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/celebritology/post/amy-winehouse-jimi-hendrix-kurt-cobain-and-the-27-club/2011/07/23/gIQAiLAhVI_blog.html">study</a> only looked at artists with top rating albums. </p>
<p>At the other end of the scale, the study reported by Howard Sounes in his book <a href="http://www.dacapopress.com/book/us/ebook/27/9780306821691">27</a> is over-inclusive as it covers not only performing musicians but also songwriters, record producers, managers and promoters.</p>
<h2>New research</h2>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=925&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=925&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=925&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1162&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1162&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/62589/original/vd2m46vm-1414029730.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1162&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Jimi Hendrix, who died in 1970.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP Photo</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I’ve undertaken the first population study of performing pop musicians (n=12,665) from all popular genres who died between 1950 and June 2014 of whom 90.6% (11,478 musicians) were male. </p>
<p>Data on age, circumstances and manner of death were accessed from over 200 sources, including The Dead Rock Stars’ Club; Nick Tavelski’s (2010) Knocking on Heaven’s Door: Rock Obituaries, Pop star mortality; <a href="http://www.metal-archives.com/artist/rip">R.I.P. Encyclopaedia Metallicum</a>; Voices from the Dark Side for Dead Metal Musicians; Wikipedia’s List of Dead Hip Hop Artists and Hip Hop obituaries; </p>
<p>I went to <a href="http://hiphopdatabase.wikia.com/wiki/List_of_Dead_rappers">rapper death websites</a>, <a href="http://www.deadpunkstars.com/">Dead Punk Stars</a> and similar sites for all popular music genres. The genres I covered included African, ballad, bluegrass, blues, Cajun, calypso, Christian pop, conjunto, country, doo-wop, electroclash, folk, funk, Gospel, hard rock, hip hop, honky tonk, indie, jazz, Latin, metal, new wave, polka, pop, psychedelic, punk, punk-electronic, rock rap, reggae, rhythm and blues, rock ‘n’ roll, rockabilly, ska, soul, swamp, swing, techno, western and world music.</p>
<h2>Longevity, suicide, homicide and accidental death rates in pop musicians</h2>
<p>I examined four outcomes – longevity and the proportion of deaths by suicide, homicide and non-intentional injury or accident. Longevity was determined by calculating the average age of death for each musician by sex and decade of death. These averages were then compared with population averages by sex and decade for the US population (per 100,000) (see Figure 1, below).</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=687&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=687&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61367/original/bf4tvtpv-1412921808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=687&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Figure 2 (below) provides a graphical summary of percentages of musicians who died by decade from each of the three causes of death studied; these are juxtaposed with deaths in the US population from the same causes by decade. All comparisons shown in these figures were highly statistically significantly different from the US population.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=767&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=767&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=767&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=964&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=964&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/61368/original/5p9f6knr-1412921809.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=964&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<h2>The pop music scene is toxic and needs rehabilitation</h2>
<p>The results of this study are disturbing. Across the seven decades studied, popular musicians’ lifespans were up to 25 years shorter than the comparable US population. Accidental death rates were between five and 10 times greater. Suicide rates were between two and seven times greater; and homicide rates were up to eight times greater than the US population. </p>
<p>This is clear evidence that all is not well in pop music land. </p>
<p>Why is this so? The pop music “scene” fails to provide boundaries and to model and expect acceptable behaviour. It actually does the reverse – it valorises outrageous behaviour and the acting out of aggressive, sexual and destructive impulses that most of us dare only live out in fantasy. </p>
<p>The music industry needs to consider these findings to discover ways of recognising and assisting young musicians in distress. At the very least, those who make their livings from these young people need to learn to recognise early signs of emotional distress, crisis, depression and suicidality and to put some support systems in place to provide the necessary assistance and care.</p>
<p><br>
<em>The Conversation is currently running a series on <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/death-and-dying-series">Death and Dying</a></em>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/32735/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dianna Kenny receives funding from the Australia Research Council and the Australian Council for the Arts.</span></em></p>
Art is a cry of distress from those who live out within themselves the destiny of humanity … Inside them turns the movement of the world; only an echo of it leaks out – the work of art Arnold Schoenberg…
Dianna Theadora Kenny, Professor of Psychology and Music, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.