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How Mortality Has Become Immortal: The Ethics of Wanting To Live Forever

The world is locked-down indefinitely, and could face mass starvation (or worse) because of a virus that overwhelming kills the elderly. Does this provide humanity with a dire ethical conundrum?

Here is a question for you? Is it unethical to want to live forever?


I am currently 55. When I was a kid, many of my parents' friends passed away between my current age and age 65. Within a quarter-century of my current age-- both of my parents were dead.


When my Auntie Rose (who lived to be 105) turned 80-- it was considered "incredible." Now I hear people lament the passing of someone in their 90s as--"gone too soon."


Old decades are new decades. The old fifties are the new forties-- the old aughts are the new nineties, the old thirties are the new twenties-- and so on. With all this extension and rearranging of lifespans and generational milestones, medical science should be applauded. But I wonder if our philosophy has quite kept pace with our technology. Our expectations with our ethics.


The above graph is rather intriguing. In the world of Covid-19, the grim reaper starts shredding in earnest at 65-- takes a brief breather at seventy-five to get his wind back-- and then goes after the back forty with a vengeance at 85 and above.


I in no way mean to sound flippant or cavalier about death. But it bears noting that a mere one generation before us-- the death rates shown in this graph were the normal death rates. A case in point-- Social Security (like any insurance) was formulated on an actuarial table based on a morality between 60 and 70 years of age. We know where that has ended up.


Now, I am not suggesting we sacrifice our elderly and infirm. I have enormous respect for life, and a particular affinity for the elderly who bring so much continuity to the generations. But I also have to ask how long we can realistically (and ethically) sequester generations in their prime (and endanger society as a whole) ostensibly to protect a portion of the population who, fifty years ago, would have most likely been dead already.


Mother Nature bats last. We can tinker and toy with the mechanics of the game, but she ultimately has the advantage knowing both the rules and the strategy. The best we can do is hope to keep up.


These will be the tough questions for philosophers to ask in the decades to come as medicine trudges methodically onward. As for me, when the reaper comes, I'll be ready-- whatever my age. Because Mother Nature really does call the shots and really does bat last.


To read more on this subject-- please see the four pieces curated to accompany this commentary at Thursday The Sophist Report @ The Socratic Review


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