Death as a Taboo
Death, dying and grief are said to be taboo topics alongside things such as “sex and moral indignation” (Giaxoglou, 2020, p. 8). I think it is clear that these are not subjects we can comfortably sit down and discuss openly. This is odd as we all die and we all lose loved ones and we all experience grief. Adrienne Betteley, a nurse working for cancer charity Macmillan, speaks of good and bad deaths. Her charity aims to facilitate good deaths which should be pain free and which happen in a place of our choosing. Starkly she tells us that only 1% of people with cancer wish to die in a hospital yet 38% die in hospital and 64% of terminal cancer patients would like to die at home but only 30% get to do so. (Betteley, 2017, pp. 3–4). That so many cancer patients don’t get to die in a place they choose implies that the vast majority of cancer patients will experience a bad death. Betteley explains the taboo of death and especially of cancer,
“For those who are faced with an illness, death may be a sensitive topic, and something they do not want to face just yet. For others, it may seem far off and irrelevant to them – or, so inevitable and out of their control that there is no point thinking about it, let alone having conversations about it.” (Betteley, 2017, p. 6)
This explains the taboo for the individual facing their own death but what of the attitude of wider society? Why are dying, death and grief seen as taboos? The reasons for these taboos can be described by medical advances, by societal changes as to where death should take place and by the value placed on dying, death and grief. Philippe Aries spoke of this sense of the taboo being caused by death shifting from the home and the family towards the hospital where people die alone. The individual rather than a person as part of wider social structure. In a further twist, the hospital is not a place for healing any more but is now a place for dying. (Ariès, 1975, p. 87) It is also a place of failure as death seen as a result of doctors being unable to save life. This idea is extended in a process known as overmedicalisation where modern clinicians, armed with new skills, treatments and drugs, provide extensive medical care close to the end of life which might extend that life but pays little attention to the quality of life nor of death as a necessary thing. This extended medical care might leave patient with lengthy illness or disability and leaves little space for relatives or friends and for grief. Ultimately, such care can extend the dying process and can extend grief. (Sallnow et al., 2022) Modern late capitalist society views a good life in terms of economics and materialism. Illness, death and grief is seen as failure in neoliberal political system where success brings money to pay for better outcomes in a race to “be whoever we want to be” Such beliefs question the value of life, grief and place additional meaning on the concepts of a good and bad death. [1] (Clack, 2015, pp. 2–6).
If I imagine a spectrum of this sense of the taboo, then is death towards the edge of what might be considered as taboo and so is less likely to be discussed? As taboo topics are considered inappropriate to be the subject of conversation, they are less likely to be passed on. Unless the death is considered a good death or if the bereaved have experienced good grief, “death can often be felt to be untellable.”[2] (Giaxoglou, 2020, p. 8) Linguist Neal Norrick speaks of this saying that there is a darker part of this spectrum where a stories might be too personal or embarrassing to be shared. (Norrick, 2005, p. 323)
Death then is difficult to speak of for fear of saying the wrong thing. It can be frightening and reminds us of our mortality and of leaving our loved ones behind. It can place a burden on society with the costs of illness and death and can impact those in the death space from taking part in their full societal role. Death can be something the living have no desire to learn about so that when faced with illness, death and grief, they might have little experience or knowledge to aid them. There appears to be an us and them side to death. Those in the death space are on the far side of a barrier, their experiences are very different from those getting on with their happy lives. They are to be avoided and shunned as social outcasts perhaps in similar way to those who live in leper colonies. Those on far side of that barrier in the liminal death space might feel distant from society and feel their only contact is with the dead person or with others in that same space who have similar experiences of cancer or other illnesses, death and grief. There might be a sense of fear and reluctance to leave this space and seek closure to their grief because if the grief ends, might the sense of connection to the person who has died also end? This idea can be extended to avoiding enjoyment because of a perceived sense of betrayal to the dead person. (Zisook and Shear, 2009, p. 69)
On reflection, my grief has been traumatic. My daughter’s end came too quickly and she couldn’t reach where she wanted to die in a children’s hospice in Fife. She spent much of her final 18 months in huge pain with medical professionals working to try and control her pain. At the end she begged and screamed that she wanted to die. I wonder now about the cruelty of her death. Her death was a bad death in so many ways and there is an element where self-doubt and blame come into this. Could I have done more? These are part of what has cast me adrift in grief for so many years. It is interesting then to consider my art which is formed in this death space but which I want to take out of the liminal space to be seen and understood by people not familiar with death. Is this too much to ask of them and for reasons I have outlined above, is my conversation beyond the threshold where it is too personal and painful to be heard?
[1] “Death reveals the ultimate failure of all neoliberal success, and as a result becomes a phenomenon whose meaning is primarily located in the extent to which it can be avoided. This construction affects medical practices, medical ethics and even the ability to mourn. Rather than allowing death to challenge the way in which success is habitually constructed, death itself becomes viewed as a form of failure. To succumb to death is to fail.” (Clack, 2015, p. 6)
[2] Giaxoglou argues that death, dying and grief are taboo topics alongside things such as sex. Death is on the darker side of what is thought of as the taboo. As taboo topics are considered inappropriate to pop up in conversation, they are less likely to be passed on. If the death is considered a good death or if the bereaved have experienced good grief, “death can often be felt to be untellable.” (Giaxoglou, 2020, p. 8)
References
Ariès, P. (1975) Western Attitudes Toward Death: from the Middle Ages to the Present. Baltimore, Maryland: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Betteley, A. (2017) No Regrets: Talking about death and dying, MacMillan Cancer Support. Available at: https://www.macmillan.org.uk/_images/no-regrets-talking-about-death-report_tcm9-311059.pdf (Accessed: 7 May 2023).
Clack, B. (2015) ‘Constructing Death as a Form of Failure: Addressing Mortality in a Neoliberal Age’, The Severn Forum, pp. 1–29.
Giaxoglou, K. (2020) ‘SHARING THE EMOTIONAL SELF: TELLABILITIES OF DEATH, DYING AND GRIEF ONLINE’, AoIR Selected Papers of Internet Research. Available at: https://www.academia.edu/55880068/Taboo_or_Not_Taboo_In_Visibilities_of_Death_Dying_and_Bereavement.
Norrick, N. (2005) ‘The dark side of tellability’, Narrative Inquiry, 15(2).
Zisook, S. and Shear, K. (2009) ‘Grief and bereavement : what psychiatrists need to know’, World Psychiatry, Jun(8(2)), pp. 67–74.