If Ernest Becker can show that psychoanalysis is both a science and a mythic belief system, he will have found a way around man’s anxiety over death. Or maybe not. This book is a card trick that conjures sham religion out of sham science, with death playing a supporting role.

Becker tells us that the idea that man can give his life meaning through self-creation is wrong. Only a “mythico-religious” perspective will provide what’s needed to face the “terror of death.” That’s an interesting idea, but Becker makes a steaming mess of it. He uses pragmatic theory to show that science and religion make equivalent claims. It also implies the mythico-religious outlook is true if it works. He runs a teeny-tiny risk of nihilism here, but hey, when was the last time that ever got anyone into trouble? So off he goes.

First comes a hunt for human nature, an elusive quarry. Anything man does is part of his nature, so from the concept we can deduce only trivialities. But that doesn’t stop Becker, who at every turn represents his own alchemy as scientifically proven. From “the empirical science of psychology,” he proclaims, “we know everything important about human nature that there is to know...”. Oh, gosh. Already I’m getting nervous. What he knows is that meaning cannot be self-created because it amounts to a transparent act of transference. Man cannot mask mortality with some “vital lie.” Stronger medicine is needed, a belief system. For if a man fails to repose his psyche within such a system, the result will be the “annihilation” of the ego, whatever that means. Anyhow, it’s a proven fact.

This stronger medicine needs the survival instinct, Becker’s terror of death. To establish it he mortifies the sex instinct. Several chapters document the dismal findings of psychoanalytic research. “Personality is ultimately destroyed by and through sex,” he reports. The sex act, or fornication as he calls it, is modern man’s failed effort to replace the god-ideal. Males with sex drives are guilty of “phallic narcissism.” Anything beyond missionary sex with the lights out is perversion. Not even love and marriage help. “We might say the more guilt-free sex the better,” he explains, “ but only up to a certain point. In Hitlerism, we saw the misery that resulted when man confused two worlds ... Personal relationships carry the same danger...”

Becker smears the lens through which we view sex with a thin ordure, counseling us, in effect, just to close our eyes and think of the British Empire. This reductio of the sex drive thus exalts the survival instinct, and the author installs his psycho-mythic add-on to assuage the terror of death. Yet he concedes at the end that “... there is really no way to overcome the real dilemma of existence... ”, and baffled readers are left to wonder what the point of the book was.tt

That’s the big picture. The details are quite odd. No biological basis is allowed for mental disorders; all are amenable to psychotherapy, even schizophrenia, whose sufferers need only organize their jumbled symbolism into a mythic structure. That no schizophrenic patient has ever been cured by psychoanalysis is beside the point. So much for if it works, it’s true. Nowhere does Becker mention women, either, except to leer four or five times over the fright of children upon seeing mommy’s nudity: the boys don’t want to be castrated and not even little girls want to be the sex of their mothers. An Original Guilt replaces Original Sin, and women are still on the hook for it.

Then there’s Freud, “...a man who is always unhappy, helpless, anxious, bitter, looking into nothingness with fright ...”. Becker dwells for pages on the fact that Freud fainted, proving it was caused by his inability to accept religion and even linking Freud’s cancer to this. I myself have problems with Freud; so do many. But by the time this writer gets through there’s nothing left of Freud but litter.

Then still, explaining the minds of “primitives,” Becker notes:

“Many of the older American Indians were relieved when the Big Chiefs in Ottawa and Washington took control and prevented them from warring and feuding. It was a relief from the constant anxiety of death for their loved ones, if not for themselves.”

In light of what actually happened to the Indians this comes as a cruelty that runs for cover under its analytic context. The author’s style, indeed, uses analysis as a shield for many of his little jabs. The largely general nature of his claims would have worked better in a long essay format, but the psychoanalysis does appear to buttress the more caustic remarks.

Only psychiatry and religion can deal with the meaning of life, says Becker, who avoids philosophy. But this is one book where even a whiff of critical thinking helps, and not just with the reductio. Even assuming his premises, if truth really amounts to faith, then self-created meanings cannot be mistaken so long as man has faith in them. Most important, though, is a glaring lack of conceptual clarity. What exactly does he mean by religion and myth? There’s a world’s difference between a theological and an idealistic basis for belief. The author never explains why he conflates those terms. As a result he cannot meaningfully elucidate a subjective experience halfway between the temporal and the spiritual.

This vagueness hurts because the endeavor to state facts about another person’s mind isn’t as farfetched as it seems. Becker’s pragmatic brew, on the other hand, fizzes into nihilism. His claim to scientific proof of the psyche's functions is pseudoscience, and the pretense to authority has borne sour fruit. The false memory hysteria fanned by psychoanalysts 20 years ago derailed lives and careers, and sent innocent people to prison. And the author adds not one new insight on the subject of death, although I can’t deny the entertainment value of Victorian clichés dressed in psychedelic drag.

Unwilling to acknowledge either science or religion, The Denial of Death is neither fish nor fowl, but rather a foul and fishy fraud seasoned with petty barbs. Cautious readers will want to step back and let the white suits decontaminate this metaphysical meth lab and its doubtful dregs.

Li esse livro porque influenciou muito a Hilda Hilst, mas a verdade é que as teorias psicanalíticas nele contidas estão deveras ultrapassadas, mesmo ele tendo ganho o pulitzer nos anos 70 me parece que já naquela época ele estaria defasado em relação aos seminários já publicados de Lacan. A psicanálise hoje não tem nada a ver com as coisas descritas alí, sobretudo o discurso altamente preconceituoso em relação aos neuróticos que me incomodou deveras.
Um livro que me serviu para o estudo de como pensava Hilda Hilst, mas que me foi totalmente descartável como psicóloga, leia com cuidado, considerando todas as bobagens defasadas nele contidos, assim há como retirar algum proveito de seus escritos.

Insightful, well-referenced, and easy to follow. Just imagining the author's pains and convulsions while writing under the curse of cancer makes it somewhat unethical to properly evaluate the merit of Becker's magnum opus. In the closing chapters it is advisable for the reader to pay close attention as these are the only instances where comparisons go at length and Becker's thought loses track, only to return by repeating the main message he wanted to deliver. This is a wonderful read for anyone who is interested in psychology but doesn't have the background or confidence to immediately get to grips with the terminology. I won't hesitate buying.

Hard to take any of this book seriously when it rests on the shaky, crumbling foundations of Freudian psychology. As the below article says, "The primary trouble with Freud is that, while his ideas appear intriguing and even common sensical, there’s very little empirical evidence to back them up." (I think this is generous; in fact there's basically no evidence.)

https://io9.gizmodo.com/why-freud-sti...

Not only that, this book's scope of humanity is extremely narrow, getting things wrong about: "transvestites", post-menopausal women, unmarried women, children, many mental illnesses, and Chinese people, to name a few.

The experiences of women, non-protestants, girls, people who aren't white, and cultures with different worldviews regarding death are nearly completely ignored.

It's almost hilarious how the psychologist men referenced in this book thought of their work as anything close to universal, when it was so clearly steeped in their extremely narrow worldview.

The kernel of truth in this book - how the fear of the "animal-ness" of the human condition, and the cruel and arbitrary inevitability of death drive us - is nearly obscured under all this hogwash.

Life changing. It gives an insightful perspective on human nature and on the meaning of life. It goes deep into the core. Accepting the idea of repressing the inevitable death and different coping mechanisms of humans. It requires some knowledge of the philosophy to fully understand it. Different views on philosophers Freud, Jung, Rank, Kierkegaard.. You might want to read it slowly. Everyone should read it once in his life.

Why was this even necessary? This is a conceptual framework which may be spontaneously accessed in its coherent entirety by pretty much anybody, surely?

إنكار الموت
(1)
دائمًا ما أجد نفسي عاجزًا عن مراجعة الكتب المهمة؛ لإنني متى ما حاولتُ ذلك، يكون الكتابُ قد تسرّب داخل (عقلي) وبدأت أفكارهُ تتصالح وتتصادم مع أفكارٍ قديمة؛ لذلك عادةً ما أميلُ إلى أن الكتب الجيدة تُقرأ ولا يُكتَب عنها، لكني سأحاول رغم ذلك. ولكي أبلور فكرتي الخاصة، عليّ أولًا أن أنسَ أني قد قرأتُ ما كُتِبَ على غلاف الكتاب الأخير، وكذلك ما كتبه مارك مانسون في "فن اللامبالاة" مع أني ممتن لهذا الأخير؛ حيث شجعني على قراءة كتاب إرنست بيكر ولا يمكنني تجاهل ما قاله عن شخصية الكاتب في بضعة صفحاتٍ، في آخر "لامبالاته".
(2)
لعلّ عنوانَ الكتاب يخدع القارئ في بداية الأمر (وهذا ما حدث معي)؛ فهو لا يتحدّث عن الموت كما تتوقع منه، وإن كان الموت وهواجسٌ أخر جوهر هذا الكتاب. إذن، ما هو موضوع الكتاب؟
البدايةُ، مَنْ هو الإنسان؟ إنّهُ حيوانٌ ورمز - بحسب إريك فروم، أو حيوانٌ وخيال - بحسب يوڤال نوح هَراري. التعريفان ينطويان على جزئين: بايولوجي وثقافي-حضاري. لا يهمنا الجزء الأول منه؛ فوعيّ الإنسان بذاته، هو محنته الأكبر، شعوره بضعفه ودونيته، أو ما يسميه الكاتب (مخلوقيّة الإنسان) ولا أظنّ ذلك اعترافًا دينيًا لإلهٍ أو دين. بحثَ الإنسانُ منذُ البداية عن ماهيته، لكنهُ لم يجد شيئًا، ويعتقد فروم أن ليس هناك ماهيّة وإنّما (جوهر الإنسان هو طبيعته المتناقضة)، لا تمتلك الحيوانات الأخرى ذلك التناقض، لا تشعر بالزمن، فالموت بالنسبة لها محض ثوانٍ من الألم أما الإنسان فإنّه فرد مطاردٌ طوال حياته من مصير الموت، ولو تمكّن هذا الهاجسُ منه لذهب إلى الجنون. الإنسانُ إلهٌ، أو هكذا يريد أن يكون لكنّه يحمل جسدًا حيوانيًّا، يتغوّط وتسيطرُ عليه الغرائز، أو كما يقول ماسلو: نحنُ (ديدانٌ وآلهة).
(3)
يكاد الكتاب أن يكون تاريخًا للتحليل النفسي، لكنّه لا يبتدأ بفرويد؛ فوجوديّة اللاهوتي الدنماركي كيركيغارد، كانت تعي مدى ضعف الإنسان الفرد ونهائيته مقابل لا نهائية الله والطبيعة، فلا طريقَ له إلّا بالانصهار في اللانهائية تلك، وبالتالي فلا يمكن أن تتمكّن منه هواجسه وإنّما يصبح خالدًا، انهزاميّة كيركيغارد مريحة جدًا رغم تنكرها لإنسانيتنا وانتصارها للغيب.
لم يتصوّر فرويد الإنسانَ إلّا حيوانًا تحركه الغرائز، وأيّ مقاومةٍ يوجهها الإنسان لها (الغرائز) بحكم (الحضارة والتربية والأخلاق والدين) فإنها سوف تؤدي إلى كبت، لذلك لجأ منذ البداية إلى محاولة وضع الإنسان أمام مرآة تفضح له بواطن لا وعيه، والغرائز التي كُبتت منذ الطفولة المبكرة. إذن فإنسانُ فرويد هو حيوانٌ يبحث عن المتعة، والحضارة تكبت الجنسانيّة. في أواخر كتاباته اهتمّ فرويد بمسألة الموت، لكنّه ناقش (غريزة الموت): الرغبةُ في الموت تؤدي إلى القتل، أي أن فرويد لم يتخلَّ عن نظرته الحيوانيّة للإنسان (الإنسان حيوانٌ يرتجف من الموت)، أما رانك وبراون، فيعتقدان أن ما يعاني منه الإنسان هو كبت الموت، فيصبح الموت هنا (مشكلةً). وهذا الرأي قريبٌ إلى رأي تلميذ فرويد (وعدوه فيما بعد)، يونغ.
(4)
يطرح المؤلف سؤلًا: ما هو الوهم الأفضل الذي يجب أن نتّبعه لتجاوز مشكلة الإنسان؟
بالنسبة لكيركيغارد ورانك (ويونغ؟)، هو الدين. ليس الدين الطقوسي وإنّما الدين الذي يمثل الأمل، والتفاني من أجل الخلود الجماعي، خلود الإنسانية مقابل فناء الفرد، الذي تماهى معها. أما فرويد فلا شيءَ لديه قادرٌ على ذلك، سوى المواجهة. ولو أردتُ تجاوز الكتاب قليلًا، ففي الفلسفة الألمانية ما يشبه هذين الرأيين المتناقضين، فهيغل، يعتقد بإن الإنسان، دون اللجوء إلى المطلق سوف يعاني الاغتراب، أما تلميذه فيورباخ، فيقلب ديالكتيك أستاذه رأسًا على عقب، ويظن أن الاغتراب ينشأ من تنكّر الإنسان لطبيعته وضياعه في ذلك الأمل الذي سبق وأن خلقه الإنسان نفسه لصورة الإنسان الكامل وهو الله.
(5)
يحاول المؤلف أن يجمع التحليل النفسي والدين والفلسفة، ليجد جوابًا لمعضلة الإنسان الأزليّة: الموت. لكنّه، وكما أظن لم يستطع إعطاء جوابًا مريحًا، كما لم يستطع گلگامش في بداية التاريخ، ولا يبدو لي ذلك فشلًا، فلا إجابات خارج الوهم، ولكنّي أميل إلى الوهم الشخصي، أو نسخة شخصيّة من وهم ملائم، لا يتنكّر للحظة الراهنة ويتكلّم لغة الحضارة العالميّة القائمة.
كان إرنست بيكر يعاني من السرطان ، فكتب هذا الكتاب، فقد أنكر الموتَ بالكتابة.

One of the most important philosophy books of all time to me. Readable even if you’re not wholly familiar with Rank, Kierkegaard or even Freud that much, for that matter.
At its core, it’s a very interesting lens through which to explore the human condition - as the incessant quest to deny death both physically and mentally - and I think this book certainly succeeds in exploring that viewpoint to its absolute brim.
Of course, the proposed potential solution can seem sort of disappointing - seeking transcendental self-acceptance through some sort of crossroads between psychoanalysis, philosophy, and religion - much as religion can be a sort of illusory proposed answer to a nonbeliever, it’s been sort of almost undeniable that much of anxiety about the human condition can be greatly alleviated through religious acceptance. Or at least that is what they say, myself, I can’t force myself to believe in any religion that would solve the fear of death problem.
Still a lot of qualms with the world. But this book is one of the few that will actually push the needle forward.

Um livro tão referenciado, tão elogiado, com direito a Pulitzer, é à partida algo que devemos reconhecer, se não gostar, pelo menos admirar, essa foi a minha a condição de partida. Mas nada me tinha preparado para o que aqui encontrei, apesar de ter lido várias reviews, foi um choque... Por isso lhe peguei em 2013 e não avancei, nem disse nada sobre o mesmo, quis ler mais e tentar compreender melhor o porquê. Entretanto depois de ter lido que Don DeLillo teria partido daqui para o seu 8º romance, "White Noise", resolvi voltar a ele. Aqui fica o que tenho a dizer sobre o mesmo.

Temos de começar por compreender que "The Denial of Death" é de 1973 e que se viviam tempos de ciência muito diferentes, mas isso não pode permitir que um livro destes passe por entre os pingos de chuva incólume, sem crítica, ainda para mais com pessoas bem posicionadas fazendo-lhe elogios nos dias de hoje (Ex. Bill Clinton colocou-o na sua lista de 21 melhores livros, em 2003).

O que é então "The Denial of Death"? Podemos dizer que é do tipo pseudocientífico, porque assenta num conjunto de crenças, construídas no tempo, mas não se assume como tal. Apresenta-se como discussão científica baseado em estudos, que não o são, são apenas outros textos como este, e que servem para se reafirmar a si mesmos, por via do aumento de um caudal de suposta prova. "The Denial of Death" é um fruto do seu tempo, do tempo das grandes teorias da Psicanálise, Freud, Lacan, Jung, etc. Um conjunto de pessoas inteligentes que acreditou que poderia dar sentido ao mundo por via das suas certezas pessoais, e que por isso mesmo não passaram de artistas do significado.

Becker constrói assim todo um argumentário à volta do suposto Medo da Morte que os humanos sentem, e que é responsável por tudo aquilo que somos. Existe aqui uma base de partida real, e esse foi o problema pelo qual a psicanálise durou tanto tempo no meio académico, quando existem pontas conectadas à realidade temos maior dificuldade em derrubá-las apenas por apresentarem fraca metodologia. Ou seja, aqui parte-se do elemento primário da espécie, a sobrevivência. É verdade que esse é o nosso primeiro e mais relevante instinto, sobreviver, desenvolvemos todo um sistema emocional que serve apenas a sobrevivência — o medo que nos garante que não ficamos debaixo de um carro ao atravessar uma estrada, a alegria e tristeza que nos garante relações humanas, o nojo que nos alerta para a doença, ou a raiva que nos ativa contra os predadores. Mas por isso mesmo, não temos necessidade de ter em mente, ou seja, de ao nível da consciência estar sempre a pensar na morte, desenvolvemos um sistema não-consciente, as emoções que fazem todo esse trabalho de modo automático, tal como desenvolvemos um sistema nervoso autónomo que garante que inspiramos, expiramos e batemos o nosso coração x vezes por minuto, mantendo a necessária homeostasia. Nem tudo está ao nível da consciência e é aqui que reside o grande problema da psicanálise, ter acreditado com as suas teorias simbólicas, que poderia escavar ideias e significados onde elas não existem.

O tema não deixa de ser interessante, e existe quem o trabalhe hoje, mas com seriedade metodológica. O que pode interessar neste caso, mais do que qualquer abordagem psicológica, é uma abordagem etnográfica, compreender como cada um de nós vê ou sente a morte, e poder trabalhar essas ideias, construir daí alguns padrões, mas esse é todo um outro universo que nada tem que ver com aquilo que Becker aqui nos apresenta.

Não queria ser crítico, nem demasiado agressivo, mas com um livro tão referenciado é inevitável que o sejamos, correndo o risco de estarmos a perpetuar ideias que não o merecem. "The Denial of Death" é uma fraude.

Lots to say about this. This is a brilliant book and folks interested in death studies, philosophy around death, and the psychology of sex and religion should read it.

In short, he posits human culture is shaped by our aversion to our existence as animals. As he puts in the book, we are "Gods with anuses." He comes to this conclusion by exploring religion, social roles, and diversions from social roles as examples of humans seeking hero roles to avoid mortality as a our core certainty.

It is wild, intelligent, revelatory, and still relevant. I can see his argument applying to political extremism, media figure worship, information illiteracy, and a number of other things I fixate on.

That being said, we have to use our "academics of the past" hat while engaging, which makes me nervous to recommend it. Becker was well past the thinkers of his time while remaining behind our current considerations of gender, sex, and psychology.

He is pulling primarily from Freud, which is a whole other rant of mine (Freud introduced secular post human considerations that we all take for granted now), but he is quick to criticize where it needs to be done. He ties his thesis to iterations of mental illness and loosely defined "fetishes" which does not (and could not) include contemporary understandings of gender, orientation, and spectrums of illness.

He is clear that he is not making value statements, but I know for a fact folks will toss out the value of this work with language yet to be informed by the last 50 years of research.

Also, this reads like a dissertation so it goes fucking on and on and on. If you delve, do the audiobook.

This book is often read amongst antinatalist and pessimist circles and its first few chapters, which focus on the meaninglessness of existence and how most of our actions are subconsciously motivated by our fear of death, are indeed quite brilliant.

However, the book quickly goes from that to attempting to explain all of human nature through an extremely obsolete lens of psychoanalysis, which at times is so ridiculous that it almost seems like a parody. Moreover, there is not a single iota of doubt in the author about the views espoused, regardless of how unlikely they are from a modern neuroscience viewpoint (which was advanced enough by the 70s, when this book was released, to rule out most of its absurd proclamations). Similarly, the author clearly has a huge hard-on for Kierkegaard, who he keeps praising throughout the book, never finding a single thing wrong with his philosophy.

Of course, this is not surprising considering the book manages to get even worse from there on, its latter part consisting of a feeble defence and justification of religious thinking as a way to cope with the tragedy of man's existence (which is largely what Kierkegaard's philosophy is also about).

The author essentially proclaims that man, after having discovered that everything is completely illusory and worthless, should nevertheless proceed breeding more slaves to this meaningless life as long as they can be brainwashed to believe that it is worthwhile through religious thinking.

This shows an utter cowardice and inability to follow a line of questioning where it leads you, regardless of how disturbing that may be—which is what a true philosophical pessimist does. In this, the ending of the book reminds me of the last episode of the first season of True Detective, where Rust Cohle completely betrays every single belief he has previously held in order to become just another cowardly and delusional optimist who cowers behind magical thinking.

I have mixed thoughts and feelings while reading this book, because I intend to immerse myself through it, and there were instances that some parts of it really bored me, for example, the constant references to Nietzsche. Ernest Becker brilliantly synthesized Freud's psychoanalysis with the ideas of writers most notably, Otto Rank, Soren Kierkegaard, Carl Jung, Medard Boss, among others and poignantly illustrated their insights on the individual's attempts and striving against death, which entails projecting the self through expansion, cultural identification, or transcendence towards something greater.

I especially liked how he was able to point out this certain 'Causa Sui Project,' which is what most individuals are striving for: the need for self-reliance and self-determination to establish something beyond the self, i.e., he cites the example of Freud's erecting of psychoanalysis - which was his life long dream of responding to established religion or cultural traditions. It might be, according to Ernest Becker, that this Causa Sui Project, though he writes of his analysis as mostly assumptions based on Ernest Jones' biography of Freud, was a lie - that this project is the individual's attempt to overcome his smallness and limitations - because he is still in many ways bound to the laws of something that transcends him, and denying it would be tantamount to neurosis. Perhaps that portion of the book was the most poignant of all, because it was self-evident that to renounce the causa sui project would be to admit that any person's attempt for self-determination is bound to fail if it does not recognize that there is something that is more transcendent compared to the individual's will.

Ernest Becker also wrote on this book, the attempts and psychology of creativity, of creating personal fictions, of the ideal of mental health and illness - all of which are the person's attempts of making meaning, finding a center, remaining sane in an otherwise chaotic world. I highly recommend this book, it is enlightening and through it, and it is a reflection and a deep analysis on man's condition who is constantly asking questions and grapples on the inevitability of finitude and faith. Literally, this is one book that brought me back to my senses.