Umberto Eco: How to calmly prepare for death. Quiet instruction to the eventual practitioner.

by Umberto Eco

I am not saying anything original, but one of the biggest problems of a human being is how to face death.  It seems that the problem is hard for non-believers (how to face the Nothingness that awaits?) but statistics say that the question also troubles many believers, who resolutely hold that there is life after death, yet anyhow think that life before death is in itself so enjoyable to consider its end unpleasant; they strive to reunite with angels, but as late as possible. 

Evidently, I am speaking of the problem of what it means to be-for-death, or even just to recognize that all humans are mortal. It seems easy as long as it concerns Socrates, but it becomes troublesome when it concerns us.  And the most difficult moment will be the one in which we'll realize that for an instant we are still here, and the instant afterwards we will be no more.

Recently a thoughtful practitioner (some Crito) asked me: Teacher, how can we best 

approach death? I replied that the only way to prepare for death is to convince oneself that everybody else is an idiot*.

I clarified to the surprised Crito.  See, I said, how can you approach death, even as a believer, if you think that while you die, strapping youngsters of either sex dance in a club enjoying themselves tremendously, brilliant scientists violate the last mysteries of the cosmos, honest politicians build a better society, media outlets strive to give just the relevant news, responsible entrepreneurs are preoccupied to ensure that their products don't harm the environment and apply themselves to restore nature to its clear streams, verdant woods, clear skies free of ozone and strewn with soft clouds full of sweet rain. 

The thought that while all these marvelous things are happening you depart is unbearable.  I am just trying to think that, just when you realize that you are leaving this world, you have the unfading certainty that the world (five billion human beings) is full of idiots, idiots dancing in clubs, idiot scientists convinced to have solved the mysteries of the cosmos, idiot politicians who propose solutions to all our troubles, idiots who fill pages and pages of insults and marginal gossip, idiot and suicidal manufacturers who are destroying the planet. Would you not be happy, then, to depart this world of idiots? 

Crito then asked me: Teacher, but when should I start thinking this way? I answered that you should not start too soon, because somebody at twenty or thirty years of age thinking that everybody else is an idiot is an idiot and will never achieve wisdom. We should start thinking that everybody else is better than us, then evolve bit by bit, have the first doubts around forty, begin a revision between fifty and sixty, and reach certainty while you march towards one hundred, but ready to call it just as soon as your number is up.

To convince oneself that all the others around us (five billion) are idiots is a subtle and shrewd art, not available to this or that Cebes with an earring (or nose ring). It requires study and effort. You can't rush it. You need to achieve it just in time to die in serenity. But the day before we must still think that somebody, who we admire and love, is not yet a complete idiot. Wisdom lies in recognizing at the right time, and not sooner, that they, too, are idiots. Just then it is fine to die.

Therefore the great art is to study bit by bit universal thought, to scan pop culture, to monitor day by day the media, the statements of self-confident artists, the free-wheeling declamations of politicians, the philosophical statements of apocalyptic critics, the aphorisms of enigmatic heroes, studying the theories, proposals, calls to action, images and wraiths. Only then you will have the overwhelming realization that everybody is an idiot.  And then you will be ready to face death.

You will need to resist until the end to reach this unconvertible realization. You will continue thinking that somebody is still saying sensible things, that that book is better than others, that that leader really wants the common good. It is natural, it is humane, it is innate in our species to refuse the notion that everybody else is an utter idiot, otherwise why would it be worth living? But when in the end you do know, you will comprehend why it is worth it, even splendid, to die.

Crito then told me: Teacher, I don't want to make rash decisions, but I think you are an idiot.  See, I said, you are on the right path.

First published in Espresso, June 12th 1997

* coglione: lit. testicle