Death anxiety has been referred to as a fear of nonexistence or nonbeing. Although we might be conscious of the fact of death, and even imagine we are prepared for it, we are always shocked when death threatens us, or when someone dear to us dies. Although at a rational level we know that death is part of the cycle of life, at an irrational level, we look at it very differently. The idea of disappearing into a void—of having to confront the disintegration and decay of our body—is not easily worked through psychologically. The anticipation of a state of nothingness, in which the self has ceased to exist, is unacceptable. Symbolically, death can be seen as the ultimate humiliation, the ultimate narcissistic injury. Consciously or unconsciously, we interpret our pending annihilation as a devastating blow to our sense of self. As the unconscious does not deal with the passage of time and doesn’t calculate the amount of time we have left in our life, we act as though death will occur to everyone—except ourselves. It explains why we are always looking for solutions to cope with this unacceptable idea. And one way of dealing with death anxiety , is to find reassurance and comfort in a variety of immortality systems.
Transcending Death
The natural world, and our need to find our place in it, can be seen as a major immortality system. We tell ourselves that everything that lives comes from the body of the Earth, and everything that dies will go back into it. On Earth, all living organisms interact with their inorganic surroundings, being part of a self-regulating, complex system that perpetuates life on our planet. All living organisms and inorganic material are part of one single living planetary being called Gaia—a dynamic system that shapes our biosphere and maintains the Earth as a fit environment for life. Thus, our perceptions of nature and immortality are intimately connected. Setting out into mountains, valleys, and forests, and onto rivers and oceans, is a very basic human urge and a form of communion with life and death for many of us. Many people feel they have a special bond with nature and view death as a transition rather than the end. They may even experience “unica mystica ,” an “oceanic feeling” of out-of-body boundlessness in which they merge with the universe. No wonder that, for many, global warming represents a particularly terrifying eschatological possibility, and, as a signifier of total annihilation, raises massive denial reactions. Of course, the coronavirus pandemic has only added to our concerns about the ways we have been dealing with Mother Nature.
Apart from this unica mystica , there are other ways of coping with death anxiety . Identifying with a religious, political, or cultural immortality system has always been a very attractive way of assuring us of continuity. These belief systems represent our most ingenious solutions for dealing with death. Religion has always been our most resourceful ally in alleviating our fear of death and the annihilation of the self. All the major world religions hold out the promise of an afterlife, providing a consoling function and playing an integrative role in society. Moreover, with heaven as the ultimate destination, religions provide an obvious incentive for living a virtuous life, conforming to a set of high-minded values.
Modern science has added new ways for us—or part of us—to biologically transcend death, through organ donorship, sperm banks, and cloning. But taking an evolutionary perspective, our children will always be our major immortality project. The philosopher John Whitehead said, “Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.” We project our own aspirations and achievements on our children, hoping they will perpetuate our beliefs and values. Children help us to see death as a transition that we can survive through others’ memories. After all, isn’t it true that the dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them? We trust that our children will carry not only our genes but also our memory. We imagine that the passing of memories from generation to generation will amount to continuity. Thus, our symbolic immortality continues after our death as our spirit lives on through our children, grandchildren and family, emphasizing history, memories, stories, and our philosophy of life.
When we are creative—through art, literature, scientific discovery, or an act of kindness toward someone in need—we also create a kind of symbolic immortality. In this way, we not only deal with our death anxiety but also “escape” death by living on through our actions and accomplishments, which may be remembered for generations or possibly centuries. Creating some form of legacy becomes a major driving force to transcend death. Artists hope that their work will live on after their death. Creation gives them meaning in life and their work may benefit future generations. Scientists are motivated to build cumulative knowledge. They hope that someone else will carry their research work forward—another expression of creative immortality. Creativity as a way of combating death anxiety can also become an integral part of our search for meaning. In a similar way, actors and athletes can make history through extraordinary performances or by breaking longstanding records, a unique opportunity to “leave one’s mark.” All these symbolic immortality activities are means of transcending death and living on in the memory of others. From the perspective of the world of work, I have often seen how executives attempt to confront reminders of their mortality by creating a tangible legacy—an organization, buildings, awards, and so on. Creating a business that will be continued by family members is an obvious way of ensuring some form of immortality. This conscious or unconscious wish of immortality lies at the core of many family business dynasties, informed by the illusion that people are not really dead while their names are still spoken. Another way is to build large buildings or stadiums to be named after them, literally concrete representations of their enduring existence. Many corporate leaders are motivated by the semblance of immortality that this provides. You can even find a psychological parallel between making a mark on the landscape (for example, with a building) and the exercise of power. However, as well as giving a false sense of permanence, impressive buildings can also be signs of corporate pathology—a signal that the organization might be on its way toward decline.
The Essentials
The term self-actualization has always sounded rather whimsical to me, but it’s not a concept we should brush aside. To the best of my understanding, self-actualization has to do with the full realization of our creative, intellectual, or social potential. Most of us try to be the best that we can be. Trying to self-actualize can help us to create good memories for ourselves and others. I also believe that the ability to self-actualize can be an effective antidote to existential anxiety, including the fear of death.
According to Abraham Maslow (who popularized the concept), “What a man can be, he must be. This need we call self-actualization.”1 I would add other important ingredients, including self-discovery, self-reflection, self-realization, self-exploration, meaning, belonging, control, and competence. I have noticed that self-actualized people are less dependent on the opinion of others. They are more secure about themselves. From what I have observed, if you have these self-actualizing qualities, you are more likely to feel better in your skin.
Maintaining our Equilibrium
As a way of dealing with our inevitable demise, we like to work toward something larger and more important than ourselves. Most of us, unless we invest in something larger than ourselves, will be more susceptible to depressive thoughts. But it is our fear of death that incentivizes us to leave some kind of legacy, however small. A major way of doing this and creating meaning is not necessarily to build a grandiose monument but to make a difference in the life of others. There are many ways of transcending the self.
This proposition seems to be valid in all dimensions of our lives, including the world of work. For example, in an organizational setting, if you can connect your personal goals with the goals of the organization, you will be much more committed and feel more authentic. And if you have others buy into your vision—if you are able to build these kinds of connections—you will feel even better. People work for money but die for a cause. Conversely, if you don’t understand, or are unable to sign up for, the “bigger picture” you’re likely to become disengaged and demotivated at work.
This touches on the sense of belonging, which is a basic existential need, just like our need for food and shelter. Our evolutionary heritage means that all of us have an inherent desire to belong, to be part of something. We are a social species. We like to belong to a group—whether that’s our family, friends, co-workers, religion, or something else again. From an evolutionary psychological perspective, our need to belong has helped us to protect and define ourselves. For paleolithic humans, being part of a community was protection against ever-present dangers. When we experience a sense of connection—when we feel valued, needed, and accepted by others—this feeling of being part of a greater community will improve our motivation, health, and happiness.
This fact is very well illustrated in the famous Harvard longitudinal study of adult development (the longest study of this kind ever done). The researchers found a strong correlation between people’s flourishing lives and their relationships with family, friends, and community.2 How happy we are in our relationships has an extremely powerful influence on our health. Tending to our relationships becomes a critical form of self-care. In other words, there are going many occasions when we need “the other” simply to feel good in our skin. We don’t want “the other” to fix anything, or do anything in particular, just to let us feel that we are cared for and supported.
Control is about the need to direct our own life and work. To be fully motivated, we must be able to be in charge of what we do, when we do it, and whom we do it with. Self-efficacy means our ability to succeed in different situations,3 that is, the extent to which we believe we have control over the forces that govern our lives, how much trust we have that our actions will influence the outcomes of various situations, and how far we believe that we have choices. However, the quest for control over our life—the confidence that we can handle any difficulties that come our way—is a never-ending challenge. But if we manage it, not only will we feel safe, we will also feel that we have options. Unfortunately, my own observations indicate that many people live with the lingering fear of not having enough control. In particular, they wonder whether they have made the right choices, most significantly the choice of life partner and the choice of work.
Competence is the ability to do things successfully and efficiently, feeling and knowing that “I can do it!” When we feel competent, we have a sense of ourselves as capable of tackling any task and challenge that comes our way. The sense of competence also implies fostering ongoing personal growth and development, the ability to explore, and the capacity to handle critical feedback. The feeling of personal competence helps us persevere when faced with challenges, which makes it an important ingredient for a positive sense of self-esteem.
In my efforts to develop leaders, the challenge has always been to nurture these important themes. In Chap. 2, I referred to the 7Cs—characterological patterns that are important in making us the way we are—and to that equation I would add searching for meaning, obtaining a sense of belonging, having control, and competence. I tell my clients that the difference between dreams and reality is action. Sitting on their hands and waiting for something to turn up will get them nowhere. It is important to believe (illusory though it sometimes seems) that it is up to them to own their own lives.
In your journey through life, you will have moments when you feel beaten up, and broken. At these moments you should tell yourself that often the places that have been broken, become much stronger once they heal. Sometimes, the bad things that happen to you turn out for the better. You could call these moments of truth, moments when you really learn. Your challenge is to see these moments as learning opportunities and take advantage of them. In fact, it’s your responsibility to do so.
Let me give you a personal example from the beginning of my academic career. When I was a visiting professor at the Harvard Business School, my dream was to be offered a permanent position at the school and I duly applied for one when it became available. At the time, I was giving the highest rated course at the Harvard Business School (an institution where teaching is very important), something I was proud of, and which gave me added confidence in my application. My sponsor, Abraham Zaleznik, was a senior member of the HBS faculty (and a psychoanalyst) who had “split” from the Organizational Behavior (OB) department because he thought the departmental approach to human behavior left a lot to be desired. Looking back, I realize that I was very naïve when it came to academic politics. The OB faculty was unlikely to welcome a disciple of Zaleznik. Basically, I had backed the wrong horse. They turned me down and one of their main reasons was that a senior “visionary” member of the department reckoned that I was “never going to write anything”—words that have stayed with me ever since. At the time, I experienced this setback as a serious narcissistic injury. I felt the decision was deeply unfair—as it probably was. But now, so many years later, I wonder what my life would have been like if I had got the job? Would I have had the same opportunity to be so independent in my work? Would I have been able to self-actualize? Challenged as I was by the criticism of that particular faculty member, would I have written so many books and articles? And would I really have enjoyed living in the United States, given my attachment to Europe and its great cultural diversity? I can’t really answer these questions. But what I do know is that this setback motivated me to do many things. It made me decide to become a psychoanalyst, a decision that, I think, has made me more effective in my work, and it encouraged me to spend much of my time writing. It also made me realize that it is easy to deal with success but how you deal with failure is what shows true character. This dramatic setback (as I experienced it at that time) made me more philosophical when dealing with the vicissitudes of life. It probably also made me a better psychotherapist and coach. And it taught me to be more realistic about human nature.
As a psychotherapist and coach, I have learned how I can help people to find answers to their quests. But I also have become aware of my many limitations. I can only do so much. Metaphorically, I can open doors for my clients, but they have to choose to walk through those doors themselves. In the words of the Buddha: “No one saves us but ourselves. No one can, and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.” A self-actualized person may not be perfect, but he or she is always perfectible. Wherever you are in life—whatever your character—you are always going to be a work in progress.