Rationality of suicide (part 3)
September 13th 2012 00:45
The most straightforward modern way of thinking about suicide is to treat it as a mental illness. A normal person doesn't entertain suicidal thoughts -- therefore you're mad. You're probably depressed. And the depression is probably due to a chemical imbalance in your brain. Take some drugs and get better.
But of course it's possible for people to be perfectly clear-headed and to commit suicide. For instance, choices of self-sacrifice, where you don't regard your own life as of the utmost importance, and you're giving it up for a cause you believe in. Or the choice to turn off life support, if you believe there isn't anything left for you to live for, and you don't want to be a burden.
And if it's possible to commit suicide rationally, the question of when suicide is justified rears its head. I've written on this elsewhere, but the short answer is that it's a question, mainly, of what ethical system you subscribe to or values you hold. If you're a Catholic, maybe suicide is almost never justified, except in some cases of matyrdom. If you're a utilitarian, then perhaps the wartime choice to be a kamikaze pilot is perfectly justified.
So this is rational, fully conscious justifications for suicide. But perhaps there are unconscious justifications as well. These are suggested in Hillman's Suicide and the Soul.
What if, instead of treating suicidal thoughts as crazy, mad, incomprehensible, you instead regarded them as always meaningful and indicative of some unconscious process that is healthy for the patient to go through. For instance, they might indicate movement towards transformation, the thoughts of death providing the space, the freedom from your current life to consider rebirth into a new one. The urge to bodily suicide, on this theory, is an urge towards hasty transformation; and perhaps a psychic death, or a psychic coming to terms with what's going on, will avert desires for bodily death.
The Jungian analyst's role is "psychopomp" -- to guide the patient along whatever path their unconscious is trying to arrive at. But it's not the analyst's role, says Hillman, to bring their own values to the process. For instance, the analyst should not presume, like the sociologist, the legislator, the theologian, the doctor, that bodily suicide must be avoided at all costs. To do so is a betrayal of approaching the patient with openness, in the individuality of their own unconscious, and as responsible for their own values.
In Gulliver's Travels, the Hyperboreans lived a fantastically long time, and had a rock they could jump off if they'd had enough. In Futurama, there are Stop-and-Drop suicide booths that cost one quarter to use.
If the patient genuinely believes in an afterlife, or that their life is complete, or that they want to control their dying in a way that seems beautiful to them, how can you contradict them? Or if the patient's unconscious is pointing towards death as the only possible resolution, who are you, ultimately, to say it's wrong?
But of course it's possible for people to be perfectly clear-headed and to commit suicide. For instance, choices of self-sacrifice, where you don't regard your own life as of the utmost importance, and you're giving it up for a cause you believe in. Or the choice to turn off life support, if you believe there isn't anything left for you to live for, and you don't want to be a burden.
And if it's possible to commit suicide rationally, the question of when suicide is justified rears its head. I've written on this elsewhere, but the short answer is that it's a question, mainly, of what ethical system you subscribe to or values you hold. If you're a Catholic, maybe suicide is almost never justified, except in some cases of matyrdom. If you're a utilitarian, then perhaps the wartime choice to be a kamikaze pilot is perfectly justified.
So this is rational, fully conscious justifications for suicide. But perhaps there are unconscious justifications as well. These are suggested in Hillman's Suicide and the Soul.
What if, instead of treating suicidal thoughts as crazy, mad, incomprehensible, you instead regarded them as always meaningful and indicative of some unconscious process that is healthy for the patient to go through. For instance, they might indicate movement towards transformation, the thoughts of death providing the space, the freedom from your current life to consider rebirth into a new one. The urge to bodily suicide, on this theory, is an urge towards hasty transformation; and perhaps a psychic death, or a psychic coming to terms with what's going on, will avert desires for bodily death.
The Jungian analyst's role is "psychopomp" -- to guide the patient along whatever path their unconscious is trying to arrive at. But it's not the analyst's role, says Hillman, to bring their own values to the process. For instance, the analyst should not presume, like the sociologist, the legislator, the theologian, the doctor, that bodily suicide must be avoided at all costs. To do so is a betrayal of approaching the patient with openness, in the individuality of their own unconscious, and as responsible for their own values.
In Gulliver's Travels, the Hyperboreans lived a fantastically long time, and had a rock they could jump off if they'd had enough. In Futurama, there are Stop-and-Drop suicide booths that cost one quarter to use.
If the patient genuinely believes in an afterlife, or that their life is complete, or that they want to control their dying in a way that seems beautiful to them, how can you contradict them? Or if the patient's unconscious is pointing towards death as the only possible resolution, who are you, ultimately, to say it's wrong?
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