| by Dr. Ruwantissa Abeyratne
He who knows others is learned; he who knows himself is wise. ~ Lao-Tzu
(April 4, 2013, Montreal, Sri Lanka Guardian) As living beings go, we humans are unique. We are the only beings who eat when we are not hungry, drink when we are not thirsty and talk when it is not necessary to do so. Other animals refrain from these activities unless they are compelled by necessity, even to the extent of barking or roaring or twittering only when they have to express themselves.
We also have another peculiar trait, at least in our part of the world (and I am referring here to my country of birth) – of canonizing people immediately after they die. We write things called “appreciations” which we keep hidden in some recess of our minds until a person dies. Then we unleash a barrage of hyperbole about that person; how he or she set a good example in life with exacting standards, values, and what brightness that person exuded and how that person was so loved by family and friends. And all this, to issue a testimonial to the rest of the world regarding a dead person!
In Montreal, where I have been living for the past 23 years, the local newspapers publish no such appreciations written by interested individuals. Instead, they have what are called “obituaries” which are written by the editorial staff and detail the valuable contributions a deceased had made to society and that person’s achievements in life. The Economist has in every issue, in its last page, an obituary which marks the passing of a distinguished person, be it a world or national leader, journalist, musician, scientist or other who has either led an interesting life that left an indelible mark on society or an enduring legacy that is objectively recognized by the world.
The brilliant journalist Mervyn de Silva (now, that’s a person who deserves an obituary of recognition) in the Editorial of the Daily News of April 23 1973 on the death of Dudley Senanayake wrote: "Not all the tears which are shed today nor all the hosannas are of much use to us unless we pluck from his own life, from the nettle of things said, done and half-done, of achievements and failures, some flower, some meaning, something which can endure”.
This is as it should be; not an expression of personal loss, but an overall recognition of the worth to society of the departed human being.
How many “appreciations” record such value, apart from lamenting the passing of an aunt or a friend? Why should the whole world read about the personal loss of death or emotional abyss plunged into by a bereaved colleague or a nephew whose dear departed uncle taught him how to fish? What if we started writing bad things about a dead person saying that the deceased cut another’s throat? Or cheated someone? Or was responsible for destroying a marriage?
Dead people should be left alone to take their merits and demerits to wherever they go. Those who are left behind and have had some experience of the deceased should form their own opinions and mourn the death with silent fortitude. The world must only know of a legacy left behind and in what manner that legacy could benefit those remaining. That is the true worth of an obituary.
Albert Ellis said in 1977 that rating people is irrational. “Value is a meaningless term when applied to man’s being… it is invalid to call him either ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Ellis further suggests that there is no such thing as a “self,” that a human is nothing but a loosely tied bundle of acts, beliefs, experiences, short-term abilities, and dispositions of widely disparate sorts. This is consistent with what empiricist philosopher David Hume (1739) said: that human beings “are nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and movement”. In this perspective, to rate a “self” would be like rating a bagful which consisted of a juicy lemon, an old carburettor, some clothespins, a new size 8 running shoe, and half a bottle of insecticide. How shall we rate the bag? It would be meaningless to try, because the contents do not constitute anything integral enough to make that activity rationale. Ellis further states: “All of man’s traits are different – as apples and pears are different. Just as one cannot legitimately add and divide apples and pears and thereby get a single, accurate, global rating of an entire basket of fruit, so one cannot truly add and divide different human traits and thereby obtain a single, meaningful, global rating of a human individual”.
I am convinced that, when I die, there will not be an obituary in a journal, as I would have left neither a legacy nor achievements and contributions that might benefit the human race. Of course, members of my family may be inclined to mark their appreciation of me, for providing for them and looking after them, which they must essentially do in private reflection and prayer.
