“Die early or grow old, there is no other alternative.”
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR
La Vieillese 1970 (The Coming of Age)
Historically, death has been a major topic for philosophers, but they have written relatively little on the topic of ageing.
When life expectancy was short in the past, many philosophers died young. As a result, ageing was considered less central than death in their works. As people live longer, the study of ageing has become more relevant and pressing.
Unlike the term ‘youth,’ which represents a specific stage in life, the word ‘ageing’ is interesting because it suggests a process. It represents the passage of time and its effects on us. The emergence of gerontology in the 20th century highlights how our understanding of ageing has developed alongside increases in life expectancy. People now regularly live well into their 70s and 80s. Such longevity was something that past philosophers could not have anticipated. Pain and suffering, on the other hand, have always been central concerns in philosophy.
We do not believe [death] could happen immediately not because it is existentially impossible, but because our life experiences lead us to hope for a certain “life expectancy”.
AGEING, PAIN, AND LIFE’S AGES
Human life can be divided into three ages. At the first age, we grow and learn. In the second one, we work and establish our lives. In the third age, we retire and face a new set of challenges. As society grapples with the so-called ‘third age’ of life, sociologists and other scholars are increasingly examining the phenomenon of ageing, as well as the pain and suffering associated with it. Ageing is commonly also associated with retirement. This shift brings both freedom and loss. It frees us from the constraints of work and other responsibilities, giving us time to enjoy the things we might have missed during our working years, while confronting us with our human limitations, uncertainties and the impending reality of death.
We become more aware of our mortality as we grow older. While we may not expect to die tomorrow, the possibility is always there.
Philosopher Martin Heidegger highlighted the fact that death could occur at any moment. We do not believe it could happen immediately not because it is existentially impossible, but because our life
experiences lead us to hope for a certain “life expectancy”. As we age and face the challenges of the ‘third age,’ death becomes less an “empty possibility” and more a “real actuality”.
EXPERIENCING PAIN
Pain is a highly subjective experience that forces people to focus on their own bodies. The concept of pain is unique and can only be
understood in relation to one’s state of mind. Pain and suffering are differentiated; pain is personal and subjective, whereas suffering is often manifested through relationships and social interactions.
Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am” could be paraphrased to: “I feel pain, therefore I am.” In this context, not experiencing pain might indicate the absence of life. Pain serves as a reminder that our bodies have limits and experiencing it can serve as an indication that there is
an issue that needs to be addressed.
There are different approaches to coping with pain, such as taking painkillers or adopting Stoic philosophical methods like appreciating the pain itself. Medicines can work to mask pain, while the Stoic perspective emphasises the acceptance of it, but it does not imply the elimination of pain. While pain can often be reduced or eliminated, suffering, which often arises from relationships with others, can be more difficult to mitigate. The experience of pain is subjective and dependent on an individual’s internal sensors, which may have a certain level of natural anaesthetic quality to avoid extreme pain. On the other hand, suffering is associated with experiences, memories or emotions. It often arises from loss, for example, the loss of a pet or a loved one. It is irredeemable. When I was in middle school, I was hospitalised after injuring one of my feet. In the hospital, I encountered two fellow patients — one constantly screaming in agony.
Another, suffering from a severe condition, was utterly silent. I found out later that both of them were likely to be in constant pain for the rest of their lives and one of them would not leave the hospital alive. I realised then the pain caused by my injury was next to nothing compared to their suffering that rendering their lives hopeless and irrelevant.
While pain can often be reduced or eliminated, suffering, which often arises from relationships with others, can be more difficult to mitigate.
This confrontation with different types of pain propelled me to question the meaning of life, leading me to philosophy and subsequent explorations into the essence of suffering. Years later, I recalled my hospital experience vividly, citing it as instrumental in shaping my understanding of pain as a transient but captivating entity. There are two types of pain: inflicted pain, which arises from physical harm, and emotional pain, which stems from things like grief, loss, trauma, stress, and unfulfilled wants. Much suffering comes from misconstrued desires — when we fail to comprehend what we truly need.
According to the ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus, true happiness isn’t derived from fulfilling desires, especially when those desires are superfluous or irrational. Instead, happiness could be found in the simplest of things, like bread and water. As he saw it, by moderating our desires, we could alleviate our suffering and find modest pleasure.
Many of today’s consumerist-driven desires, which often lead to a sense of inadequacy and frustration when unmet, are unnecessary. The suffering resulting from unfulfilled materialistic desires is a different kind of suffering from physical pain. While I do not dismiss the very real distress it can cause, I assert that this form of suffering is largely avoidable because it is merely a result of our societal constructs and excessive desires.
TAKING MEANING FROM EXISTENCE
Ageing gives rise to existential crises, particularly the sense of loss and feeling of impotence that can come with physical decline, memory decay, and the impending reality of death. In this phase of life, these concerns become more pressing, as individuals grapple with questions of self, life and value.
Heidegger claimed that death is the ultimate question of our existence. The third age becomes a crucial time for understanding the value and meaning of one’s life.
This concept of authenticity is something introduced by Heidegger. It’s not about becoming a certain type of person or engaging in certain activities, but it’s about truly confronting oneself.
Reflections on pain and suffering offer a fascinating glimpse into the human condition, addressing the physical and existential aspects of pain and inviting us to reassess our understanding of desire and contentment. We should think critically about our attitudes towards pain, suffering, and ultimately, the meaning of our lives in the face of ageing and mortality.
Many may argue that certain religious faith negates the need for discussions on the ultimate questions of death. But in fact, it’s the contrary. When we yearn for eternal life, we are called upon to discuss, even more, the meaning of life. Is it as we hope, that we will gain eternal life and evade death? Is eternal life a true reward or is it a punishment? How does this promise of eternal life lend value to our lives? These questions undoubtedly raise numerous dilemmas. If life has no value, then we are brought to the question of what it means to be an authentic person. The concept of authenticity is something introduced by Heidegger. It’s not about becoming a certain type of person or engaging in certain activities, but it’s about truly confronting oneself. Within the context of history, how do you affirm your position, the meaning and value of life, and affirm yourself as an individual? These are questions that most people don’t ask. About a quarter of today’s population of the world is over 60. How do they live their lives? Do they stop working as they grow old? Consider the elderly who don’t live in nursing homes and spend their days in public parks. They are “third-class” ( 三等 Three waiting, in Chinese) citizens, waiting for meals, waiting for sleep, and ultimately, waiting for death.
Ageing, living, and dying are different understandings of the same process. So, to me, ageing is also living, but at the same time, ageing is dying.
Photo: Craig Whitehead / Unsplash
Old age can be incredibly tragic. I know of a Nobel laureate, once among the world’s finest, who resembled a child in his old age. He was unable to use the toilet by himself or even eat on his own. The greatest pain was not for him but for his wife who took care of him. Anyone can end up like that.
Will I be like him ten or twenty years from now? This is a pressing question. I believe ageing is also living. Ageing, living, and dying are different understandings of the same process. So, to me, ageing is also living, but at the same time, ageing is dying.
The interesting thing here is, dying and ageing seem like a downward trajectory, but at the same time, there’s the fascinating gift of life: it only happens once. Everyone knows this; there is no second chance. This also means that my life is unique. Only I have the opportunity to live my life. The concept of ‘I’ is intriguing. This idea of identity and individuality is of utmost importance. We are separate from others, but at the same time, we are connected with them. How should we make the most out of the uniqueness and interconnectedness of our lives when we know ageing is unavoidable?
SUFFERING AND EMPATHY
With empathy, we see beyond our own pain, feeling the suffering of others. This could range from sympathising with the grief of a friend who has lost a parent, to Mother Teresa’s empathy for those oppressed and suffering in daily life. Empathy can certainly be cultivated. But it raises an interesting question: is it possible for someone to take pleasure in the suffering of others? ‘Schadenfreude’ is the German term for finding joy in another’s misfortune. From the audience’s laughter at a clown hurting himself to the Roman Colosseum’s bloody spectacles and the contemporary appeal of boxing, we often find delight in others’ pain. As much as it is paradoxical, it is also a testament to our complex relationship with suffering.
But suffering is deeply personal. It is like tasting coffee — it’s hard to convey the flavour unless someone has experienced it for themselves, and even then, they might not perceive it in the same way you do. This introduces an element of scepticism. We can’t necessarily distinguish genuine suffering from a performed one — consider the actor weeping on stage or playing a tragic character like Hamlet. While their plight may evoke empathy, it isn’t rooted in their personal reality.
However, the nature of modern society tends to distance us from visible suffering. Cancer hospitals and hospices aren’t places we visit regularly. Death and old age have been effectively marginalised. This reflects the influence of capitalism, which often favours the youthful and joyful, perpetuating a relentless pursuit of the eternal and unchanging.
Suffering and empathy are complex in nature. They intertwine in our daily lives and have a profound impact on our understanding of human existence. This demonstrates the interconnectedness of our individual experiences and collective societal trends, revealing the intricate weave of the human condition.
With the awareness of suffering and empathy, and the recognition that suffering seems unavoidable as we get closer to the end of our lives, we may have a more peaceful attitude towards our ageing and eventual death.
Photo: Jon Tyson / Unsplash
Death and old age have been effectively marginalised. This reflects the influence of capitalism, which often favours the youthful and joyful, perpetuating a relentless pursuit of the eternal and unchanging.
PROF CHEUNG CHAN-FAI
Prof Cheung Chan-Fai obtained his BA and MPhil degrees
from The Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK), and Dr. phil.
from Freiburg University, Germany. His research interests include
phenomenology, the philosophy of love, death and happiness, theories of General Education and more.
Before Prof Cheung retired from CUHK in 2012, he was Professor and
former Chairman of the Department of Philosophy, and Director of the
following institutions: University General Education, the Edwin Cheng
Foundation Asian Centre for Phenomenology, the Research Centre for
General Education, and the Leadership Development Programme.
Prof Cheung is also a prolific author. His most recent publications are:
Existential Questions: Life, Death, Love and Desire, 2 volumes,
(in Chinese, 2023); The Sorrows of a Mountain University ( in Chinese,
2023); Hong Kong in Crisis (in Chinese, 2021), Educated to be Human:
Essays on the Humanities, Philosophy and General Education (in
Chinese, 2021), Proximity and Distance (2019), and Phenomenology
of Photography (in Chinese, 2019). He is also a weekly columnist,
contributing essays and photography to the Green Bean Media (UK)
since 2022.
AUGUST 2023 | ISSUE 11
THE ART, SCIENCE AND GOOD NEWS OF AGEING
