When I got my $30 book home and began to read I had to wonder if the supplier had slipped the wrong book into the jacket. But, indeed this was the correct book: “Heavens on Earth, The Scientific Search for the Afterlife, Immortality, and Utopia”; accolades including: “brilliant, filled with profundity, startling facts, and mind-expanding ideas.”
In chapter one on page one, within seven words, something does not meet with the authors’ deductive standards. His words are, “Come again?”. For the reader this proves to be an alert; in other words, get used to searching out meaning. Here are more examples of the blasé rejoinders that indicate the book is going to pass judgement: “I don’t think it is… I don’t think this will happen… It seems to me... I am not at all sure… I became curious… I think not.”
Let’s try to figure out the author’s deductive standards and what the author is trying to say. There are arguments made 1) about mortality and immortality, 2) about imagining mortality and immortality, and 3) that we demonstrate something about an afterlife because we do not fear death. The author believes that ‘we’ do not fear death. He’ll ‘prove’ this for us. There will be more about this, and more about ‘we’, later in this book review/critique.
Statements from page one and two are here quoted: “In order to observe or imagine a scene you must be alive and conscious…”, and: “You can no more visualize yourself after you die than you can picture yourself before you were born…”, and: “It is… impossible for a thinking being to imagine nonbeing…”, and from page two: “We cannot indeed, imagine our own death…”, and: “To experience something, you must be alive, so we cannot personally experience death…”.
Read chapter one for yourself and see if the book doesn’t conflate the imagining of something and the existence of something. Evaluate the logic of these quotes and see if we don’t have similar logical equivalences being: ‘if you are only imagining a twinkie there is no such thing as a twinkie’, and ‘you can’t be alive when you’re dead’.
Problems continue in chapter one. The book describes “TMT” (Terror Management Theory) and “EPT” (Emotional Priority Theory). It does not believe in TMT, but it does believe in EPT. The author does not agree that death inspires the “creativity” and “terror” that TMT proposes; but rather that EPT allows “prioritization of one’s emotions”. Within one sentence the author jumps from “when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight”, to “Facing death focuses one’s mind on the most important emotions in life, love being arguably the deepest. In fact, love is so powerful an emotion that it can be addictive, like chocolate and cocaine…”. This curious conjunction of factoids rolls on for another paragraph, invoking ‘science’ and dopamine, love, lust, the pituitary, oxytocin, and a footnote. The book then proceeds to take this very strained opportunity to jump directly to the value of using EPT: “Confirming my Emotional Priority Theory prediction… of the 425 death row inmates…”. Would you (the reader) draw conclusions about intuiting something about an afterlife, and/or whether ‘we’ fear death, by evaluating the statements of death row inmates? Was this possibly a convenient, but unfortunate source of data?
Should ‘we’ believe that the attitudes and beliefs of death row inmates and their judges represent the attitudes and beliefs of the general population? The author here takes the opportunity to refer to his work/’statistics’, as if it confirms some kind of hypothesis that he has presented. He also speculates that this situation (i.e: death; sentencing; death row) is, “… perhaps priming judges of their impending death… remind(ing) them to prioritize their sense of moralistic punishment, an emotion we all carry over from our evolutionary ancestry”. This is the books’ odd segue into chapter two. The book next spends time chasing supposed connections between an afterlife and: animal behavior, pollen at an ancient burial site, evolutionary predecessors, ancient murder, and children’s beliefs.
Regarding animals, the book points out that there are, ”(emotional) correspondences of which may be found, in some degree, in our fellow mammals, including and especially primates and cetaceans…” . Here the book describes dolphins and elephants acting disturbed when their pod mates / herd mates die. The book also observes that “cautious scientists (are) concerned about the anthropomorphizing of animals, but it is pertinent to note that we are animals too.”
Next we are presented with ‘science’ that maintains that pollen that existed at one ancient burial site was due to the activity of rodents.
Regarding archeology (i.e. the grave sites of Neanderthal) and quoting from the book: “Neanderthal brains were as large as our own… we may reasonably infer that these were thinking and feeling hominids who had some awareness of their own mortality”. Indeed, the book warns us of “the difficulty of fossil interpretation”.
Next we have a claim that a 2013 study of 85 Homo-sapiens burial sites were mostly, “… relatively plain with items from daily life, but a few contained… ornaments of stone, teeth, and shells.” And next we learn, “Curiously there was no sign of progression over time… . So, the behavior of humans does not always go from simple to complex…”.
And jumping ahead: “In a column in Scientific American I argued that intentional burial may be the result not of mourning but of murder”. Here the author (apparently) proposed that bodies were buried, not just because they stink, but because individuals were murdered (thereby suggesting that the bodies were hidden by the murderer). Here again the author has conveniently taken the opportunity to support his own (unrelated?) ‘work’.
And (from the book) children might be able to “understand that death is inevitable, universal, and irrevocable”, but that the concept of an afterlife…”, i.e. religion, has the “corrosive effects of confusing young minds.” Does the contention that young minds can be confused demonstrate something about the existence of an afterlife?
This reviewer believes that whether a child’s mind is confused, or a human progenitor was murdered, or a dead body stinks, or whether ancient graves were lavishly or minimally decorated, or whether a possible (marginally?) human ancestor (i.e. Neanderthal) speculated about mortality; are moot points. None of these demonstrate something/anything about the existence of an afterlife.
In this reviewers’ opinion, it would seem reasonable that there is a relationship, for adult humans, between fear of death and belief in an afterlife. The author’s assertion, though, is that we do not fear death. To identify this position sort through the mash of information in chapter one to find his argument against “TMT”. Quoting (regarding a connection between death and the ”terror” of TMT): “I have my doubts. First, it is not obvious why contemplating death should lead people to experience terror…”, and, “Those hominid groups that developed religious rituals to quell their death terror were more likely to survive.”, and, “fear of death is only one of many drivers of creativity and productivity, if it is one at all.” In this last sentence he states that fear is “one of” the drivers, but he (really) believes: “… the claim that people feel “terror” when contemplating mortality is an assertion, not an observation… depend(ing) on unconscious states of mind makes it even more problematic when determining what, exactly, is being tested.” So, dear reader, if you are fearful, it’s due to an unconscious state of mind and we can rule out whatever it is that you assert that you’re thinking about. The book believes that “The capacity to reason and communicate symbolically is… surely a more basic survival skill than the management of death terror.”
The book says, “… faith in some spiritual protection… (is) a colorful story, but one lacking in empirical evidence…”. The author needs to examine what constitutes empirical evidence. Is it empirical to speculate about Neanderthal’s speculations, or a hominid’s religious rituals? How do we know the hominid’s weren’t speculating about the earth mother or Thor or the industrious woodchuck or mad scientists of the future?
It seems to be fashionable for intellectuals to laugh at death. Quoting the book, quoting Feynman: “I’d hate to die twice. It’s so boring”. And, according to the book: Hitchens, “after swiftly dispatching Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s famous (and flawed) stage theory of dying (not everyone goes through all five stages…)”… “Hitch reflected, “… I can’t see myself smiting my brow… or… whining about how it’s all so unfair…” “. Apparently we are to believe that Ross’s theory is inaccurate because it didn’t click for all five stages. This reviewer is not willing to go off on another tangent to investigate whether the author, and “Hitch”, may have been accurately critiquing Kubler-Ross, or if they were putting spin on otherwise worthwhile work. If this is an argument about Ross not being accurate on all five points, we may want to consider this book’s obsessive need for counting, numbering, and pidgeonholing:
On page 12 there are four immortality narratives: #(1), #(2), #(3), & #(4). The book sums up problems with narrative #(1) in this not so helpful way: “First, staying alive is not presently possible.” On page 13 the book finds two problems, designated (1), and (2) with immortality narrative #(2). Problems (1) and (2) are here (in the book) delineated (respectively) as The Transformation Problem and the Duplication Problem; you can read them for yourself and see if they are useful. For problem (1), we learn that (quoting the book) “I am involved in one aspect of this research and will discuss it at length in Chapter 7”. In Chapter 7 we have the potpourri of: “Star Trek… Commander William Riker… Plutarch… Minotaur(s)… replacement of atoms… foreign cells… identity shattering, God… duplicating your (self), (etc)”. Back on Page 14 and 15, regarding “not… ambition but… trepidation”, or is it, “positive emotions (and creations) to avoid the terror that comes from confronting one’s death”, or is it “a little cooling down of animal excitability and instinct, a little loss of animal toughness, a little weakness and descent of the pain-threshold, will bring the worm at the core of all our usual springs of delight into full view, and turn us into melancholy metaphysicians”, here the author states: “I have my doubts. First …, Second …, and Third…”. And Page 19: ”Figure 1-1“ Chart about (eight)… “Emotional Reasons Why People Believe in God”… including stupidity. And Page 24: “Figure 1-2. Content analysis of Texas Death Row Inmates’ Final Statements”, including eight more categories complete with probabilities; for which category 7 is (paraphrasing): ‘I didn’t do it’, for which (quoting) “k=.842,p<.01: 14.8%”.
In chapter one we have already heard of/from: “Sartre… Goethe… Freud… Becker… Cave… Soloman… Greenberg… Pyszczynski… and James”. Freud was implicated in the mash of imagination and existence (on page one and two of chapter one). In chapter three we also hear of/from: “Wright… McGrath… Russell… Segal…”, and now specifically (quoting the book): “McDannell and Lang”. Here in chapter three “The world’s major monotheistic religions” are dispatched thusly: “the variation in heavenly themata… is staggering”, and, the “diversity of ideas… is… disappointing…”. Here we readers are called on to indulge the book in its disappointment and frustration that there is not a clearly demarcated throroughfare to the hereafter. In addition to the “lack of agreement” being “… disappointing” for a “theologian”, it is also said to also be “frustrating” in an “ontological” sense for a “philosopher”. It’s disappointing and frustrating that here the book chooses to call on theologians and ontologists to make this point; these are types that the author delights in debating on national TV. That the book considers diversity of ideas to be a “delectation” is beyond odd.
The author claims that “for the scientist such variation of beliefs is indicative of the likelihood that none of them are “true” in any ontological sense”. Does science consider data that doesn’t conform to pre-conceptions to be incorrect… or that it is amusing to find data varied? The book seems unacquainted with arguments in theology and jusrisprudence that maintain that conformity of testimonies suggests that the witnesses have been paid off; multiple observers often have varied report of the same incident.
The book reports that in 1999 “Pope John Paul II determined that heaven and hell are not actual physical places but states of the soul…” and (quoting the book/Pope): “ ‘heaven’ or ‘happiness’ in which we find ourselves is… a living, personal relationship…”. This superficially (and when taken out of the context of the book) seems to be headed towards a type of position held by the book, but don’t jump to conclusions; the book objects to this, too. Quoting, “… how did the pope determine that heaven and hell are not real places, anyway, beyond the usual arm-chair ratiocination?” So reader, don’t forget that the only this author, not even the pope, is qualified to perform arm-chair ratiocination.
By the end of chapter four even a casual observer can confirm that the book has ulterior motives. Is it helpful to approach a situation you want to understand with dismissive pre-conceptions? The author is here resentfully determined not to like his chapter four investigative weekend away; his attitude is, quoting from the book: “… then I had to go back to work on Monday morning because my mortgage… was coming up soon”. Is this an attitude that is conducive to the scientific process? The book then describes the startling results of observations by visiting scientists that reviewed this (chapter four) activity; results that the author must never have expected. The scientific conclusions (of the visiting scientists) are arguably the only science we’ve seen in this book. What we’ve seen so far is improper choice of data, muddled reasoning, name dropping, and pseudo-philosophical noodling.
What science could be more captivating than finding a result that you never expected? It seems like the author would notice, ‘gee, everything I loath results in an outcome I didn’t foresee. I’d better really try to figure out what I’m missing - what could be the cause and effect of what we’re observing!’ Perhaps (with this book…with this work) we could have had investigation into a new wave theory of scotoma, or insights into early childhood traumatic imprinting, or something - anything that resembles scientific process. The author however doesn’t take the bait; the science didn’t matter. He concludes chapter four with, “… I did benefit, even while remaining skeptical that consciousness is the ground of being…”. The book muddles on to the end, not mentioning this best approximation of heaven on earth that we’ve seen yet. Perhaps we should be thankful that this book didn’t try to connect those dots.
If you have the “stupefying patience” (a descriptive phrase from the book which was applied to a biblical character; here taken out of context) to continue on through the rest of this book you’ll find more on: near death experience, reincarnation, “the soul”, “afterlife for atheists”, cryopreservation, utopian communities, and alt-right nationalism.
For an ironic distraction as you finish the book, look for information in chapter 8 about the BPF (Brain Preservation Foundation). Our author is apparently on the advisory board! The author describes BPF neuroscientist Kenneth Hayworth as having, “… mannerisms and affectations (that) remind me of Sheldon Cooper on Big Bang Theory (without the nerdy laugh)”. The scientists let the author look through their microscope but the author’s attitude makes you wonder if he ever intends to work with these guys again.
The last chapter, chapter 12, starts by asking for a “deeper understanding of spirituality and awe”. It begins with a Sagan-esque invocation of vast spaces and large numbers of stars. The book then quickly ‘debunks’ awe; explaining it away according to types of personalities being “awe-prone”. Warm and fuzzy is not what this book is about. What does impress the author is ultra-human accomplishment such as a 100 mile open ocean swim or a three thousand mile non-stop bike race. Our author happens to be an avid bicyclist. This, to our author, exemplifies the “… true nature and cause of self-esteem: accomplishments through effort.”
Chapter 12 concludes by making (superficially) well-articulated observations about what gives things, and what gives us, purpose. The book (seemingly) sagely observes that “we create our own purpose, and we do this by fulfilling our nature, by living in accord….”. In an upside-down way this book does illustrate that this can happen. Too bad this purpose and fulfillment hinge on conjuring up a conclusion and obsessively twisting information to fit. It’s an odd way to fulfill ‘our nature’.