I’m making a few paintings about fish (as you can see). I like the form and the symbol. As well as the variation you can get when painting these (as ideas for existential anxiety). Have you ever heard of ichthyophobia? The fear of fish—both dead and alive. The topic of fear interests me because it all relates to the fear of death.
Is it Something or About Something?
Is it something, about something, or both? I’ve been trying to get my arms around avoiding the literal. It’s a difficult habit to break. Coming from photography, where everything is literal (even if it’s abstract), painting offers you a lot of freedom. Sometimes, that freedom causes you to freeze—it creates a barrier to making work that is less literal.
I have so many ideas that I want to paint; I’m just trying to find my way in with a blend of styles—impressionism and post-impressionism. Those are the movements that are most attractive to me. I would add some abstract impressionism in there too. These paintings I’m making will always be centered on Becker’s theories and terror management theory, but in a very non-literal way. Sometimes the content will be non-literal, and sometimes the ideas will be less than literal. It’s more of a personal journey than any kind of commercial process.
I said in my last post that I’m reading Rick Rubin every morning—early in the morning—and he’s been driving me to new places and trying new things. It’s liberating. He said, “Look for what you notice but no one else sees.” (Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being) That resonates with me deeply. I would say that is the core of my work (In the Shadow of Sun Mountain). I’m not sure that no one else notices, but the idea is to get away from the obvious, the literal, and the commonplace. I get it, and I agree.
As I find my way through this iteration of the project, I do find my biggest obstacle to be literalism. I’m working to break the chains of photography and literalism and find my way to most representational work, even abstract in some sense. It’s a fun journey, and I encourage you to remember that you’re the creator of your work; you’re the one that needs to be happy with it. Another Rubin quote from his book is, “In terms of priority, inspiration comes first. You come next. The audience comes last.“ (Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being).
The Implied and The Explicit
I’ve been considering the words implied and explicit as they relate to art. When I think about photography, the word explicit comes to mind. It’s literal; it’s “of something.” Yes, it can be abstract, but it’s still something that exists. When I think about painting, sculpture, music, writing, etc., I think of the word implied. These mediums are less mechanical, most of the time. They are fashioned from nothing; the content usually doesn’t exist in “real life.” It can be an interpretation of something, but it’s always different.
My concerns and interests lie in impressionism, even abstract impressionism. To me, this form of art is the ultimate form of the word “implied.” There is so much freedom in making art that is less literal, more abstract, and less concrete. I can allow my mind to ponder the theories I’m interested in and create work that represents the ideas without being explicit. As I’ve grown older, I’m less interested in telling literal stories and more interested in exploring the emotions and feelings behind the ideas or concepts. I love photography and will continue to make photographs at some point, but for now, this is a much more powerful way for me to express my ideas.
I’ve been spending a lot of time reading and re-reading Rick Rubin’s book, “The Creative Act: A Way of Being.” He said, "Art as a work in progress: All art is a work in progress. It's helpful to see the piece we're working on as an experiment."
Photography has been a wonderful career for me. I made a living with it for many years and retired as a photographer. I’ve always loved it and appreciated it. As I’ve had time to think deeply about what I’m most interested in now, I find myself drawn to painting. For many years, I’ve threatened to start painting when photography doesn’t speak to me. I’ve dabbled in mixed media quite a lot over the years. In undergraduate school, I did a lot of experimental photography, even painting on images. But this is different for me now. I have specific ideas and themes I want to paint about. My Becker studies opened up so much for me, and I want to be free to express those ideas through post-impressionism, impressionism, and abstract impressionism. I’m no Pollock, no De Kooning, and surely no Van Gogh, but I know I have a voice in this medium.
My goal is to work through ideas and themes around death denial, death anxiety, terror management theory, gratitude, and humility. Those are the big-picture themes or ideas. I have several months now to paint because winter is here. Although I would be painting in the summer or in good weather too, it’s just a great winter activity. I’ll try to post occasionally about my progress. I’ve made 20–30 paintings so far and am still very much exploring techniques and ideas. Stay tuned!
The Act of Creating Art is Terror Management
THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTIONS WE CAN ASK OURSELVES
What’s the most important question, or questions, that a human being can ask? Have you ever thought about that? I have. A lot. For me, and I believe for all humanity, the most important questions revolve around existence. Why am I here? What’s my purpose? Is there a meaning to life? If there is, what is it?
These are the questions that started me on my journey almost 40 years ago. For most of my life, I’ve used photography to explore these questions. Examining why some people are treated differently than others and pondering why the gulf between individuals exists. It was the beginning of my quest to understand what drives human behavior. There is the direct question of purpose, too. Religions were created to answer these questions, but they answer them based on faith, not empirical evidence. There’s evidence that the earliest homo sapiens invented and practiced some kind of religion. Humans have always depended on some kind of supernatural belief. Why is this? The answer is simple: to deal with the knowledge of death and quell the existential anxiety that arises from that knowledge. Death anxiety is a powerful driver in daily life, and most people never know that it is directing their lives. We do all kinds of things to distract ourselves from consciously thinking about our deaths. These distractions can be good or bad. Religions have been the main staple for staving off death anxiety for millennia. Things have changed in the last 300 years. The Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution (technology) have given rise to people leaving religion and leaning on new constructs to quell their death anxiety. This is why Friedrich Nietzsche said, “God is dead.” He was referring to technology, money, fame, etc., freedom from religion, and personal growth. A form of terror management.
Human beings have an unconscious desire for immortality. We simply can’t face the fact of death or non-existence; it’s what we fear most, whether we know it or not, and most don’t. Ernest Becker wrote, “Man is literally split in two: he has an awareness of his own splendid uniqueness in that he sticks out of nature with a towering majesty, and yet he goes back into the ground a few feet in order blindly and dumbly to rot and disappear forever”. This quote is from Becker's 1973 book, The Denial of Death.
Pessimistic philosophers would tell you that life is a mistake. The overabundance of consciousness (the knowledge of mortality) is an evolutionary misstep. Peter Zapfee talks about the “suffering of brotherhood,” saying that the true knowledge of how much pain and suffering there is in the world is unbearable. The "brotherhood of suffering" is a concept in The Last Messiah by Peter Wessel Zapffe. In the parable, a paralyzed hunter recognizes that the animal's fear and hunger are similar to his own. The hunter then feels a great psalm about the brotherhood of suffering among everything alive.
Zapffe believed that the human condition is tragically overdeveloped and that the world is beyond humanity's need for meaning. He viewed the world as unable to provide any answers to fundamental existential questions.
While I’m not a pessimist, I can see the value of arguments like Zapffe’s. There are no answers to these big questions. There are only distractions to keep us from thinking about them. That’s what terror management theory addresses. How we distract ourselves from the reality of living—that there is no meaning or purpose in life. And that we will die and be forgotten.
The illusions or cultural constructs (cultural worldviews) we lean on to quell our death anxiety are everywhere: religion, politics, having children, getting married, sports, money, fame, degrees, awards, jobs, social status, drugs, alcohol, shopping (tranquilizing with the trivial)—anything to bolster our self-esteem and keep the existential anxiety repressed—and it works, and it works well. If you spend any time on social media, you can easily spot what people rely on to buffer their anxiety. I’ve seen people deeply identify with their vehicles, photography achievements, how long they’ve been married, their new clothes and “look,” the celebrity they met or the concert they attended, and so many other (too much information) things that are meaningless and trivial. What they don’t understand is that no one really cares.
Humans have evolved to suppress or repress this knowledge—to distract ourselves and deny our mortality. We had to, or we wouldn’t have survived. I read a book a while ago called "Denial: Self-Deception, False Beliefs, and the Origins of the Human Mind" by Ajit Varki and Danny Brower. The book presents a theory on the origins of the human species. It explains why denial is a key to being human. The authors argue that humans separated themselves from other creatures because they became self-aware of their own and others' mortality. They then developed a way to deny that mortality. The book offers a warning about the dangers of our ability to ignore reality. It asks why other intelligent animals have not evolved like humans. The authors' answer is that humans have crossed a major psychological evolutionary barrier by developing the ability to deny reality. The theory of mind (TOM) plays a big role in this evolutionary step. I highly recommend reading the book.
Where does that leave us? Well, for some of us who don’t lean on some of the aforementioned illusions, there is art. Art is our distraction and our buffer. The coping mechanism we use to repress the knowledge of our deaths works well. It gives us meaning and significance and makes us feel like we are part of something bigger than ourselves—that maybe our art will live on after we are gone (symbolic immortality). Regardless of what we do, what we create, or where it ends up or not, the function of art is an important one.
WHY DO WE MAKE ART?
No one is going to save the world by making art. That’s not difficult to understand, and I think we can all agree on that. However, living a creative life can bring peace and satisfaction. And it can bolster your self-esteem. That’s really the function of art. It’s to allow creative people to transfer their existential anxiety onto an object (sublimation), into music, or onto a written page. I’ll talk more about this in a minute. So, we make art to keep our neurosis in check. To bring us meaning and significance and to quell our death anxiety. That’s the function of art. And if people like it after all of that, great! But that’s not the reason or function of art.
THE TWO THINGS THAT I HAVE GREAT CONFIDENCE IN SAYING ARE TRUE
I’ve studied the theories of Ernest Becker, Solomon, et al. (TMT) since 2018. And for the past two years, I’ve engaged with these ideas more deeply than I ever have before. Through these studies, I’m convinced of a couple of things.
CREATING ART IS TERROR MANAGEMENT
First, creating art is done in the service of terror management (TMT). One of the ubiquitous characteristics of human art throughout history and across cultures is the attempt to come to terms with mortality and achieve symbolic forms of immortality. In essence, saying, “I was here” or “remember me!” And the act itself buffers our existential dread. I’m convinced of that. There have been many philosophers, even beyond Becker, who have eluded to this. Peter Zapfee called in sublimation. He said it was the best form of terror management, but few people could do it. He wrote in his essay, The Last Messiah (1933), "Sublimation is the refocusing of energy away from negative outlets toward positive ones. Through stylistic or artistic gifts, the very pain of living can sometimes be converted into valuable experiences. Positive impulses engage the evil and put it to their own ends, fastening onto its pictorial, dramatic, heroic, lyric, or even comic aspects. To write a tragedy, one must to some extent free oneself from—betray—the very feeling of tragedy and regard it from an outer, e.g., aesthetic, point of view. Here is, by the way, an opportunity for the wildest round-dancing through ever higher ironic levels into a most embarrassing circulus vitiosus. Here one can chase one's ego across numerous habitats, enjoying the capacity of the various layers of consciousness to dispel one another. The present essay is a typical attempt at sublimation. The author does not suffer; he is filling pages and is going to be published in a journal."
Ernest Becker wrote, “Both the artist and the neurotic bite off more than they can chew, but the artist spews it back out again and chews it over in an objectified way, as an external, active work project. The neurotic can’t marshal this creative response embodied in a specific work, and so he chokes on his introversions.”
In essence, we’re all neurotic to some degree. It’s part and parcel of the dilemma of existing. The creative life offers something that no other form of terror management can: a literal outlet for existential terror.
Becker goes on to say, "The only way to work on perfection is in the form of an objective work that is fully under your control and is perfectible in some real ways. Either you eat up yourself and others around you, trying for perfection; or you objectify that imperfection in a work, on which you then unleash your creative powers. In this sense, some kind of objective creativity is the only answer man has to the problem of life.
The creative person becomes, in art, literature, and religion the mediator of natural terror and the indicator of a new way to triumph over it. He reveals the darkness and the dread of the human condition and fabricates a new symbolic transcendence over it. This has been the function of the creative deviant from the shamans through Shakespeare.
Otto Rank asked why the artist so often avoids clinical neurosis when he is so much a candidate for it because of his vivid imagination, his openness to the finest and broadest aspects of experience, his isolation from the cultural world-view that satisfies everyone else. The answer is that he takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art. The neurotic is precisely the one who cannot create.” Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death, 1973
TRIBALISM AND “OTHERING”
And secondly, the way we form tribes and go after the “other” whoever that may be to you. This is what my project (In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil) is about. I’m explaining the reasons for genocide, ethnocide, racism, xenophobia, hate, etc. through these theories. I’ve found that people often talk about these events but never give any solid reasons for why they happen. That’s one of my objectives in this work. I’ve also written quite an extensive section about my own journey. Starting with my own death awareness around the age of eight. I share life stories of death, othering, and the negative effects of in-groups and out-groups. In all of that, I revisited my interest in photography. How I started, what I’ve been interested in, and how this work is really the culmination of 35 plus years of thinking, wondering, and pursuing these ideas.
I recently read a great article on Alternet.org by Bobby Azarian. He is a cognitive neuroscientist and the author of the book The Romance of Reality: How the Universe Organizes Itself to Create Life, Consciousness, and Cosmic Complexity. He wrote, "Terror management theory is more relevant than ever because it provides an explanation for tribalism, which is really at the core of this mystery. The theory suggests that existential terror—which can be triggered by anything that is perceived to pose a threat to one’s existence—is the reason we adopt cultural worldviews, such as our religions, national identities, or political ideologies. In an attempt to mitigate our fears, we latch onto philosophies that give our lives meaning and direction in a chaotic world.
But how does this explain tribalism, exactly?
When we're fearful or threatened, we rally around those who share our worldviews. We become aggressive toward those who don't. More alarmingly, perceived threats or existential fears—immigrants, transgender people, gun grabbing, government conspiracies, humiliation at the hands of "liberal elites”—can stir up nationalism and sway voting habits toward presidential candidates with authoritarian personalities. For example, a study found that when primed to think about their deaths, American students who self-identified as conservatives showed increased support for drastic military interventions that could lead to mass civilian casualties overseas. Another study found that after the 9/11 terror attack, support for then-President George W. Bush spiked, ultimately resulting in his re-election."
My journey studying these theories has been life-altering. I find myself more understanding of human behavior and more tolerant and patient. I’m more open to people’s beliefs and what they lean on to quell their anxiety. As long as their beliefs aren’t hurting themselves or anyone else, I say go for it; we need to find meaning and significance in our lives to make this journey bearable.
I’m grateful and humble (or try to be) for each day I’m above ground. I’m in awe of life and the mystery of it all—my finitude and smallness are always present in my mind; I’m fully present to my cosmic insignificance. I understand that I really don’t know anything, and what I do know is very limited and only in a certain context. I have very little certainty about anything (save what I mentioned in this essay). Life is wonderful, but rarely, if ever, is it black and white. I walk in the world of the “hard place,” not the “rock place.” We are all trying our best to manage our existential terror, whether we know it or not, and most don’t.
The Diversity in My New Book
In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil (expected to be published sometime in 2024)
You’re going to start seeing some "comps" posted here every once in a while. These are ideas that I have for my book. As I look through the images, some of the pairings absolutely astound me; they are more beautiful and aesthetically pleasing than I could have imagined.
I’m still undecided about how the final layout will look, but I wanted to play with mixing them up—POP with RA-4 color—living with them and running some ideas through my head. I think it looks stunning. I’ve never seen POP prints paired with Color Reversal Direct prints. Gorgeous!
Right now, it’s a 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) hardcover, full-color book. I expect it to be about 250 pages with over 100 images: RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Prints, Palladiotypes, Platinum-Palladium, Kallitypes (both K1 and K2 variants), Cyanotypes, Calotypes (Paper Negatives), Photogenic Drawings, and much more. The POP prints are from both wet and dry collodion as well as direct contact printing from plant material (photogenic drawings), like Salt prints.
A Hidden Life
I recently read an article about Terrence Malick’s film, “A Hidden Life.” It’s based on the true story of Austrian farmer Franz Jägerstätter, who was called up to fight but refused to take a loyalty oath to Adolf Hitler and was arrested. He was guillotined on August 9, 1943.
This is a beautiful film. It’s sad and tragic, but very beautiful. The cinematography (photography) is wonderful. It’s not afraid to keep the dialogue to a minimum and allow the visuals to move you both emotionally and also create a sense of awe and wonder. It reflects life and its struggles so well for me. And it also addresses death in a powerful and confrontational way. It fits perfectly with the theories I’ve been studying for years.
This film is very Beckerian (relating deeply to the theories of Ernest Becker). Franz would have understood Becker’s theories well; he lived them. He faces death through the courage of his convictions. Choice was Franz's legacy. It was his power against the Nazis. Choice was his symbolic existence. He accepts its inevitability. He is certain to be killed, but he is also certain that the values he holds dear to him will survive and that his symbolic self will be eternal and outlive his doomed physical body.
He lived an honest, simple life. His gorgeous family was full of love and beauty; he loved them unconditionally, and they loved him back unconditionally. The film does such a good job of showing how much love he had and gave in his life. His gratitude was palpable. His honesty and conviction for truth and justice were clear, powerful and strong.
I think George Eliot is expressing the idea that positive change in the world is not solely dependent on big, notable events or the actions of famous individuals. She suggests that the well-being of society is also influenced by the countless unnoticed and unrecorded acts of goodness performed by ordinary people. These "unhistoric acts" may not be documented in history books or widely acknowledged, but they contribute to the betterment of the world.
Eliot emphasizes that the current state of affairs is not as dire as it could have been, and this is partly due to the individuals who have lived virtuous lives despite not receiving recognition or fame. These people, who lead "hidden lives" and eventually rest in "unvisited tombs," have made significant contributions to the world through their integrity, even if their impact remains largely unacknowledged.
Eliot's message underscores the importance of everyday acts of kindness, virtue, and moral responsibility, as they collectively shape the overall well-being of society and counterbalance any potential negativity or injustice that might exist.
The article said, "To lie would have meant he was someone who engaged in the misuse of language so common amongst the Nazis. It would have been a perversion of words to create a false narrative that would only further the Nazis’ violence. It is the timeless self that he wishes to preserve, not just to help him face death but to leave the legacy of choice and thinking independently. So Terrence Malick ends this provocative film with the following words of George Eliot from her masterpiece, Middlemarch: “The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”
Jesus Was a Capricorn
I was doing some research on Becker’s theories appearing in art—all kinds of art—and I ran across this. I was listening to a podcast when I heard the host talking about the song “Jesus Was a Capricorn.” I’d never heard of it or read about it. It was John Prine's 1972 song, famously performed by Kris Kristofferson.
It sits at the heart of Ernest Becker’s theories about “othering.” Having an in-house designated inferior, as Sheldon Solomon would say. In The Denial of Death, author Ernest Becker states, "The essence of man is really his paradoxical nature, the fact that he is half animal and half symbolic." Psychologically, we try to deny our animality and live through symbolism and meaning. It's the animal part that gives us problems. It reminds us that we are going to die. In seeking meaning and importance for ourselves, we deny it to others, and especially to those “others” who threaten our truth. In the end, we all have the same goal: to raise men above nature, to assure them that in some ways their lives count in the universe more than merely physical things count” (Ernest Becker).
Here are the lyrics:
[Verse 1]
Jesus was a Capricorn, he ate organic foods
He believed in love and peace and never wore no shoes
Long hair, beard and sandles and a funky bunch of friends
Reckon they'd just nail him up, if he come down again
[Chorus]
'Cause everybody's gotta have somebody to look down on
Prove they can feel better than at any time they please
Someone doin' somethin' dirty decent folks can frown on
If you can't find nobody else, then help yourself to me
[Verse 2]
Eggheads cussin', rednecks cussin' hippies for their hair
Others laugh at straights who laugh at freaks who laugh at squares
Some folks hate the Whites who hate the Blacks who hate the Klan
Most of us hate anything we don't understand
[Chorus]
'Cause everybody's gotta have somebody to look down on
Prove they can feel better than at any time they please
Someone doin' somethin' dirty decent folks can frown on
If you can't find nobody else, then help yourself to me
[Outro]
Help yourself right on
Help yourself, Jim
Help yourself, Reverend
Death Anxiety, Creativity, and a Big Announcement
The Big Announcement
Let’s get right to it! I contacted Sheldon Solomon a few days ago to ask him to come back on my YouTube channel for an interview. He said yes! We will arrange something for September. That’s far enough out that everyone can get their questions sorted out to ask him. I know I will. When I have a date and time figured out, I’ll post it. I hope we can talk about the nuts and bolts of these theories in a way that the uninitiated can understand; that’s my biggest desire.
"Rank asked why the artist so often avoids clinical neurosis when he is so much a candidate for it because of his vivid imagination, his openness to the finest and broadest aspects of experience, and his isolation from the cultural worldview that satisfies everyone else. The answer is that he takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it, he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art." Ernest Becker discusses Otto Rank in The Denial of Death
My photographs represent an esoteric conflict that’s rooted in our unconscious denial of death. That conflict is the psychological underpinning of the atrocities that happened on this land—the genocide and ethnocide. I’ve connected these ideas through the content of the images: their landscapes, medicinal and ceremonial plants, and some of the symbols that were used on the land. These ideas are represented both symbolically and literally. The cultural anthropologist Ernest Becker said in his 1973 book, The Denial of Death, "Even evil is just the fear of death. Our heroic projects that are aimed at destroying evil have the paradoxical effect of bringing more evil into the world. Human conflicts are life-and-death struggles—my gods against your gods, my immortality project against your immortality project. The root of humanly caused evil is not man’s animal nature, not territorial aggression, or innate selfishness, but our need to gain self-esteem, deny our mortality, and achieve a heroic self-image. Our desire for the best is the cause of the worst. We want to clean up the world, make it perfect, keep it safe for democracy or communism, purify it of the enemies of god, eliminate evil, establish an alabaster city undimmed by human tears, or a thousand-year Reich." Becker’s ideas perfectly describe the reasons for the xenophobia and genocide of the Tabeguache and all other indigenous people all over the world and throughout history.
According to Becker, individuals develop what he called "immortality projects" as a means of overcoming the terror of death. These projects are essentially belief systems or ideologies that provide a sense of meaning, purpose, and significance to our lives, offering the promise of immortality in some form. Examples of immortality projects can be found in religion, nationalism, political ideologies, a creative life, and other forms of collective identity.
Becker argues that conflicts between individuals and groups arise from clashes between these immortality projects. People invest their self-esteem and identity into their projects, and when these projects are threatened or challenged, it triggers a fear of death. This fear, in turn, leads to defensive responses, including aggression and violence, as individuals strive to protect and preserve their immortality projects.
In this context, Becker suggests that even acts that are commonly labeled as evil can be understood as manifestations of the fear of death. When people feel threatened by opposing ideologies or beliefs, they may engage in destructive actions to defend their immortality projects. Paradoxically, the very attempts to eliminate evil and establish a perfect world can lead to more conflict and suffering because they stem from our fear of death and the need to maintain a heroic self-image. This is a perfect analogy of what my project is about.
Ultimately, Becker argues that the root cause of humanly-caused evil is not inherent human nature but rather our deep-seated psychological need to gain self-esteem, deny our mortality, and construct a heroic self-image through immortality projects. Our pursuit of the best, the ideal, and the perfect can inadvertently result in the worst outcomes, perpetuating a cycle of conflict and suffering. Most atrocities are committed or acted out from this viewpoint.
While I find this very compelling, it is important to note that these ideas put forth by Ernest Becker are just one perspective on the nature of evil and human behavior. Alternative theories and philosophies provide alternative explanations, and the subject of evil is complex and multifaceted, and academics and thinkers from various disciplines continue to explore and debate it.
A Recent Interview on “Tin Questions”
I was interviewed by Chad Shyrock from Tin Questions; you can listen to that here if you’re interested.
Meaning and Significance: Why We Need It and How We Find It
“Did you know the uniquely human fear of death has a pervasive effect on human beings’ thoughts, feelings, and behavior? Humans manage the terror of death by adhering to culturally constructed beliefs about reality that provide a sense that one is a person of value in a world of meaning and thus eligible for either literal or symbolic immortality. The quest for immortality underlies some of humankind’s most noble achievements. It also, however, engenders some of our most ignominious affectations, including hostility and disdain for people with different beliefs; attraction to ideological demagogues; indifference to, or contempt for, the natural environment; and the mindless pursuit of material possessions—which, if unchecked, may render humans the first form of life responsible for their own extinction.”
Sheldon Solomon, PhD, Author of "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life"
Last year, I had Sheldon as a guest on my YouTube channel. We had a discussion about the importance of Becker's theories for creative individuals, especially photographers. It was a great conversation, and I would like to have him on again.
I have two main objectives for my book: firstly, I want to explain these theories in simple terms that anyone can understand. Secondly, I want to show how these theories were directly involved in the mass killings and massacres of Native Americans during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in the western United States. Additionally, I explore how these theories impact artists and other creative people, albeit in a slightly different way.
Let's talk about the concept of meaning in life. For me, meaning implies that our existence has a purpose and makes sense. On the other hand, significance refers to being noticed and considered important. Our greatest fear is to live in a world that lacks meaning and significance, often referred to as "death anxiety." Essentially, we are unconsciously terrified of impermanence and insignificance.
Throughout thousands of years, humans have undergone psychological evolution as part of their overall development. Our brains have evolved to have a large neocortex, but we have also suppressed the awareness of our mortality in order to function in our daily lives. Thomas Ligotti, in his book "The Conspiracy Against the Human Race," said, "For the rest of the earth’s organisms, existence is relatively uncomplicated. Their lives are about three things: survival, reproduction, death—and nothing else. But we know too much to content ourselves with surviving, reproducing, dying—and nothing else. We know we are alive and know we will die. We also know we will suffer during our lives before suffering—slowly or quickly—as we draw near to death. This is the knowledge we “enjoy” as the most intelligent organisms to gush from the womb of nature. And being so, we feel shortchanged if there is nothing else for us than to survive, reproduce, and die. We want there to be more to it than that, or to think there is. This is the tragedy: Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are—hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones." It is a paradox. We possess incredible intelligence, yet we are aware that we will eventually die. This is a difficult reality to accept, and we tend to deny and reject it. However, death is an inevitable part of life for all of us.
So, how do we deal with this existential dilemma? The answer lies in culture. Every culture, and there are countless diverse cultures around the world, provides its people with ways to alleviate their death anxiety or existential dread. These "cultural worldviews," as Becker calls them, serve as intricate distractions or illusions that prevent us from consciously dwelling on the subject of death (especially our own). You may be reading this right now and thinking, "What is he talking about? I rarely think about death; I don’t have death anxiety!" Exactly. That means you have a cultural worldview you are clinging to tightly and are ensconced in—protected from the thoughts of death by the cultural constructs you believe in and participate in—and it works well!
What are these cultural worldviews? They are anything that your in-group shares as reality. It’s what you and the people around you believe to be important. The most potent are religion, politics, nationalism, family (having children), money, fame, looks, etc. These worldviews usually provide ways to gain symbolic or literal immortality and give us a road map to follow in our lives. Ernest Becker said, "No wonder men go into a rage over fine points of belief: if your adversary wins the argument about truth, you die. Your immortality system has been shown to be fallible; your life becomes fallible." Cultures reward good behavior (things that the group believes in) and punish bad behavior. Remember, what’s “good” or “bad” in your culture may be very different from someone else's. Read about the “Flute Ceremony” versus the “Bar Mitzvah” in Sheldon’s book “The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life.” This is where the conflict begins.
In order for us to get out of bed in the morning, we need meaning. And we need to feel like we are part of something important. If we don’t have meaning and significance, there’s a good chance we’ll fall into depression and other mental health issues. The takeaway is this: Be conscious of what you’re choosing to lean on—your cultural worldview—to bolster your self-esteem and stave off existential dread; it can lead to good things or bad things. It’s very easy to adopt the malignant worldviews of racism, hate, scapegoating, and othering. It’s easy to fall into the cultural trap of treating people who are different from you badly. If we’re conscious of these psychological pressures, we can make good choices and allow other people to find good, healthy, non-destructive ways to buffer their death anxiety. Awe, gratitude, and humility go a long way as buffers and do no warm to other people.
In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil
WHAT MY BOOK IS ABOUT
I’ve written a lot about the work I’m doing now. In fact, every essay (on this blog) has some connection to my work, either directly or indirectly. I’m incredibly fortunate to have the time and solitude to do the work, both writing and making photographs. I don’t have to think about anything else. I’ll write more about this later in the essay, but I wanted to share what my book is about. This is just a high-level, simple view of the content.
I’ve been studying and researching the theories of Ernest Becker for several years. His ground-breaking ideas about what drives human behavior got me deeply interested in death anxiety and terror management theory. The crux of my book is about the events of the 19th century and what the colonizers did to the indigenous people here. It’s not really about what they did, but why they did it. The acts of genocide and ethnocide and the psychology of “othering” have preoccupied my interests for decades. I’ve visited the death camps in Europe, and I’ve studied about slavery and atrocities throughout history, from Pol Pot to Darfur and Rawanda. I’ve always wondered why these things happened and where evil came from. I explain what Ernest Becker’s thoughts were and why I agree with them.
This is what my book is about. I unpack these theories in the context of what happened to the Tabegucahe Ute people, the Nuuchui people—the People of the Sun Mountain. I use my photographs to subtly speak to how they lived, the symbols they used, and the land they managed for time immemorial. I also tell my personal story about how a creative life has always been a priority. I explain how these theories have affected me and how this very project is an act to buffer my own existential terror.
They say “Hindsight is 20/20.” It’s true. When we look back at situations, we can see them clearly, unlike at the time they were happening. When I look back at how I spent my time, I realize that most people are preoccupied with making money and paying bills. I know I was, at least for the most part. I can say that I was aware of what was going on, but I couldn’t do much about it. So I made the best of it. I spent 20 years working as a photographer for the American Federal Government and six years serving in the United States Army, three of those years as a photographer.
Our culture is set up as a psychological coping mechanism. In other words, it’s designed to keep you busy and only allow a small amount of “down time” or “thinking time.” Some people get no “down time” or “thinking time.” Their days are full from sunup to sundown. Busy, busy, busy. That’s our motto. It means you’re “doing something.” And “doing something” is preferred over not doing something. Why is that? Well, if you weren’t “doing something,” you would have time to think. Thinking can be dangerous for people. Thinking leads to awareness, or even an awakening. If you are aware or awake, you can see the world for what it is or, more importantly, for what it isn’t. And with that awareness, or awakening, you discover your place in life. You discover the reality of life—what’s important and what’s not. The things I thought were important 20 years ago are meaningless to me today. Some might call that wisdom, but I’m not sure that it’s wisdom. I think there’s a large part of it that is revealed to you as you step away from the cultural constructs. Think about how many Americans are going to wave flags, watch parades and fireworks, eat hot dogs and hamburgers, and drink beer next week. They will do it almost as a reflex, as a “we’re supposed to do this” kind of thing. It’s a cultural construct that millions of Americans lean on to bolster their self-esteem. It buffers death anxiety. This is what Becker lays out so clearly in The Denial of Death. This is what his theories are based on. Understanding the cultural constructs in which we live and the reasoning behind them—once you understand these theories, you can not only live a more full life, rich in awe, gratitude, and humility—awe, humility, and gratitude effectively mitigate death anxiety—but a more authentic life.
Bottom line: You can reduce the anxiety and the neurosis that accompany the existential dread that we all face. I’m addressing these ideas in my book. I’m also showing how a creative life deals with death anxiety and what it means to create.
IN THE SHADOW OF SUN MOUNTAIN: THE PSYCHOLOGY OF OTHERING AND THE ORIGINS OF EVIL
My book has two main goals. Firstly, it aims to shed light on the significant impact of theories concerning the fear of mortality on human behavior. Effectively illustrating how a particular historical event serves as an illustration of death anxiety and terror management theory achieves this. The central focus of this work is the genocide and ethnocide of the Tabeguache Ute Native American tribe, who once flourished on the land I currently reside on in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. By examining these psychological frameworks, the underlying causes and inevitability of such atrocities become apparent. Secondly, this book seeks to outline how my own creative pursuits have reflected these theories.
I’ve written a biography of my creative life. In that, I’ve included events in my life that served as death reminders and how I became aware of my own mortality at eight years old. I’ve included how these questions have been a central theme in my photographic work for over 30 years. As I’ve written this out, I've connected the dots about how I’ve mitigated my own death anxiety using art.