Humans Are Emotional—Not Rational

It shouldn’t be news to tell you that humans are irrational and emotional.

As human beings, we often pride ourselves on being rational creatures. We point to our advancements in science, our mastery of complex tools, and our ability to build societies governed by rules and logic. However, when it comes to matters of life and death, we reveal a different, more primal truth: we are emotional beings. This distinction becomes glaringly apparent when we confront the existential reality of our mortality. Death anxiety and the mechanisms we employ to manage this fear expose the raw emotional underpinnings of human behavior, challenging the veneer of rationality that we so often wear.

At the heart of our emotional nature is the profound discomfort with the knowledge that we will one day cease to exist—impermanence and finitude. Unlike other animals, humans possess a heightened awareness of mortality. This awareness creates a paradox: we have the intellectual capacity to understand our finite nature, but emotionally, we find this knowledge unbearable (Half Animal and Half Symbolic). Ernest Becker, in The Denial of Death, argues that much of human behavior is driven by a need to escape the paralyzing fear of death. This fear is not something we reason through; it is something we feel deeply, viscerally, and often uncontrollably.

Terror Management Theory (TMT) builds on Becker's insights, demonstrating how our emotional responses to death anxiety shape cultural worldviews, self-esteem, and interpersonal behaviors. According to TMT, humans create and cling to cultural systems that provide a sense of meaning, order, and immortality. These systems, whether religious, nationalistic, or ideological, are less about logical coherence and more about emotional comfort. They serve as psychological defenses (coping mechanisms), buffering us against the terror of our inevitable demise.

Consider the way people react when their belief systems are challenged. Rationally, one might expect open-minded discussion or a willingness to adapt to new evidence. Yet, more often than not, such challenges evoke defensiveness, hostility, or even aggression. This is because these belief systems are not merely intellectual constructs; they are emotional lifelines that protect us from existential dread (meaning system buffers). When they are threatened, it feels as though the foundation of our existence is being shaken, triggering a fight-or-flight response that is anything but rational.

This emotional foundation extends beyond our cultural worldviews, or meaning systems, to our personal identities. Self-esteem, for instance, is deeply tied to our ability to stave off death anxiety. TMT research shows that when people are reminded of their mortality, they often seek validation and strive for achievements that affirm their worth within their cultural framework. These actions are not driven by logical analysis but by an emotional need to feel significant in the face of insignificance.

Art and creativity provide another lens through which to examine the emotional nature of human responses to mortality. Artistic expressions, whether through painting, literature, or photography, often grapple with themes of death and immortality. These works resonate not because they offer rational solutions to the problem of mortality but because they evoke and articulate the emotions associated with it. They allow us to confront our fears, find solace, and connect with others who share our struggles.

The emotionality of human beings is perhaps most evident in the collective rituals surrounding death. Funerals, memorials, and acts of remembrance are rarely about logical considerations. Instead, they are about processing grief, celebrating life, and reaffirming our connections to one another and to the cultural narratives that give our lives meaning. These rituals are deeply symbolic, and their power lies in their ability to address emotional needs that logic cannot satisfy.

Acknowledging our emotional nature does not diminish our humanity; rather, it deepens our understanding of it. By recognizing that our responses to death anxiety are rooted in emotion, we can better understand the behaviors, beliefs, and systems that define our lives. This recognition also invites compassion—for ourselves and for others. It reminds us that beneath the facade of rationality, we are all grappling with the same fundamental fears and seeking the same solace in the face of the unknown.

In the end, it is our emotions, not our reason, that drive us to create, to connect, and to seek meaning. Our attempts to manage death anxiety may not always be rational, but they are profoundly human. They reveal our capacity for hope, resilience, and imagination in the face of mortality. And it is through these emotional endeavors that we find not only a way to endure but a way to transcend the limitations of our finite existence.

Revisiting Peter Wessel Zapffe and The Last Messiah (1933)

There are several figures in history that I believe are worth a second or third look concerning death anxiety and creativity.

Peter Wessel Zapffe is one of them.

He was a Norwegian pessimistic philosopher who wrote the essay The Last Messiah (1933).

Zapffe was born in 1899 in Tromsø Municipality, Norway. He died in 1990. He was 90 years old. He loved mountain climbing and photography. Norway has archived thousands of his images. He practiced law for several years as well.

It’s not a stretch to say he was an existential nihilist as well as a pessimistic philosopher. He had some very profound ideas about consciousness, death anxiety, and human behavior. Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860), a German pessimistic philosopher, had a significant influence on him. Heidegger, Kierkegaard, and Nietzsche all had an indirect influence on him.

I’m going to start with a quote from the ending of the essay:

Peter Wessel Zapffe

"The life of the worlds is a roaring river, but Earth's is a pond and backwater.
The sign of doom is written on your brows—how long will you kick against the pinpricks?
But there is one conquest and one crown, one redemption and one solution.
Know yourselves—be infertile and let the earth be silent after you."
Peter Zapffe, The Last Messiah

Let’s break this down.

"The life of the worlds is a roaring river, but Earth's is a pond and backwater."
This suggests a contrast between the larger, cosmic scale of existence ("roaring river") and the small, stagnant, and insignificant nature of life on Earth ("pond and backwater"). Zapffe often emphasized the insignificance of human life in the grand scheme of the universe.

"The sign of doom is written on your brows—how long will you kick against the pinpricks?"
The "sign of doom" portends destruction or meaninglessness for humanity. The phrase "kick against the pinpricks" refers to resisting inevitable suffering or unpleasant truths. Zapffe sees human life as an ongoing struggle against harsh realities, particularly the knowledge of death and meaninglessness.

"But there is one conquest and one crown, one redemption and one solution."
This line is somewhat paradoxical, as it suggests there is only one way to overcome the human predicament—through acceptance of a particular truth, which Zapffe reveals next.

"Know yourselves—be infertile and let the earth be silent after you."
Zapffe advocates for antinatalism—the idea that human reproduction perpetuates suffering. By choosing not to reproduce ("be infertile"), he suggests humanity can escape the cycle of suffering and allow the Earth to "be silent," essentially ending the human race as a way to cease the existential pain.

Zapffe's philosophy is deeply pessimistic, rooted in the idea that human consciousness leads to an awareness of life's absurdity, and the only way to mitigate this is by halting the cycle of suffering through non-procreation. This is in direct opposition to our “survival and reproduction” instincts. He would call those primal and animal like (no knowledge of suffering, meaninglessness, and dying.)

Cosmic Panic

His concept of "cosmic panic" refers to the overwhelming existential terror that arises when humans become fully aware of their position in the universe—namely, the realization of life’s inherent meaninglessness, the inevitability of death, and the apparent indifference of the cosmos. This moment of panic is more than just fear; it's a profound, paralyzing dread that emerges from our awareness of existential truths.

For Zapffe, "cosmic panic" is a direct consequence of human consciousness. While other animals live instinctively and without awareness of their mortality or the broader cosmos, humans are burdened with a level of self-awareness that allows us to comprehend our finite existence. This awareness can lead to a deep sense of horror as we confront questions of purpose and the randomness of life.

To avoid this state of cosmic panic, Zapffe believed that humans instinctively employ various coping mechanisms (see below; isolation, anchoring, distraction, and sublimation) to suppress the terror of existential awareness. Without these defenses, he argued, we would be left to confront the full weight of our existential insignificance, a confrontation so destabilizing that it would lead many to despair.

The Coping Mechanisms Used to Buffer Death Anxiety and Get Through Life

I’m most interested in his coping mechanisms for death anxiety. They are very much in line with Ernest Becker. I often wonder if Becker read Zapffe. I bet he did. Zapffe describes four coping mechanisms people use to deal with the painful awareness of life’s absurdity and the inevitability of death. He argues that human consciousness and self-awareness bring a unique existential burden, which we struggle to endure. To address this, he identifies four key methods we use to suppress our awareness of life's tragic nature:

Isolation
Isolation involves consciously suppressing disturbing thoughts or situations that remind us of life's inherent meaninglessness. By avoiding or ignoring thoughts of mortality or deep existential fears, we keep ourselves from confronting uncomfortable truths.

Anchoring
Anchoring refers to creating or clinging to a framework of meaning that gives us stability in life. This might include religious beliefs, cultural norms, or personal goals that provide a sense of purpose or direction. By attaching ourselves to a specific ideology or worldview, we prevent our minds from drifting into despair.

Distraction
Distraction is the practice of diverting attention from troubling existential concerns through various forms of engagement. People often use work, entertainment, social activities, or even compulsive behaviors to avoid deep reflection on life’s deeper, often unsettling questions.

Sublimation
Sublimation is the process of channeling existential anxieties into creative or intellectual pursuits—I use this all of the time. Rather than confronting death anxiety head-on, individuals may transform these concerns into artistic, philosophical, or scientific work. By doing so, they engage with the darker aspects of existence in ways that feel productive and meaningful.

He believed these mechanisms were essentially defense strategies, helping us cope with existential dread and the awareness of our limitations. He maintained, however, that these methods could only provide temporary relief, as the underlying truths remain, inevitably surfacing throughout our lives. Becker said the same thing essentially. There's no escaping the world as it is all of the time, only temporary relief.

Check out this video: “Peter Wessel Zapffe: The Norwegian Existentialist.” Tim Oseckas addressing the Existentialist Society in September 2024. Tim did a great job here. It was a pleasure listening to his research on Zapffe. Thank you, Tim!

The Irish Elk Story

And the final idea I want to address is his story about the Irish elk—he said, "certain deer in paleontological times succumbed as they acquired overly-heavy horns." This story was very profound to me when I first read it, and it has been in my head ever since.

He uses the Irish elk as a metaphor to illustrate the self-destructive consequences of evolution unchecked by pragmatic limits. The Irish elk, now extinct, had massive antlers, which grew to such an extreme size that they eventually became a liability. Though the antlers helped attract mates, they became a burden in the elk’s environment; they were cumbersome, made movement difficult, and ultimately contributed to the species' extinction as they hindered survival.

“Deer Antlers,” 2022—my tribute to Zapffe’s philosophy on our overabundance of consciousness.

Zapffe draws a parallel between the Irish elk's oversized antlers and the human consciousness (being aware of mortality). Just as the elk’s antlers became an evolutionary overdevelopment with disastrous results, Zapffe argues that human self-awareness—our ability to reflect on life’s meaning, confront death, and ponder the universe—has led to a psychological burden we are poorly equipped to bear. This consciousness, in Zapffe’s view, is an evolutionary trait that goes beyond practical needs, creating existential dilemmas that provoke anxiety, dread, and despair.

In essence, Zapffe suggests that consciousness, like the elk’s antlers, is an overextension of evolution that, while beneficial in some respects, also leads to suffering and potentially self-destructive behaviors.

Peter Wessel Zapfee making photographs.

Peter Wessel Zapfee photograph.

Life as a Balancing Act

I’m sitting in a motel room at 0600 in Las Cruces, New Mexico, as I write this. I’m down here looking for a property that Jeanne and I can call home for a while.

It’s nice here. It’s a small, “big” city. When I arrived yesterday at 2 p.m., it was 70F (21C) and sunny. It was wonderful driving around with my windows down in the middle of February! It’s close to Mexico, too. We like that (I know it’s scary to some people; we’re not that way). We hope to be here in the first week of April. I’m excited about the idea of not going through another high-altitude winter. Even saying that makes me warm ;-)

As I contemplate these properties and what we want in a home and property, it reminds me of the balancing act of life itself. How many chances do you take? Do you ever roll the dice and see what happens? Or do you always play it safe? There are no definite answers; like most things in life, it’s dependent on the individual. We’re all different, with different needs and different worldviews. I do know that for every advantage, there is a disadvantage. You have to weigh these factors and come up with a solution where you find the advantages more important than the disadvantages. In other words, nothing is perfect, and you always have to compromise. That includes our lives and the situations we are faced with—specifically, our mortality. Make the most of every day. Take some chances, do something different, and feel alive; we only get a short time here; make the most of it. Try to show love to the people that are important in your life, have gratitude every morning you wake up, be in awe of nature, and humble yourself enough to see your cosmic insignificance. It helps, and it puts every day above ground in perspective.

Wish me luck. I’m headed back to Colorado tomorrow. We hope to make an offer on a property here today. We’ll see what happens.

Culturally Constructed Meat Puppets and Martin Heidegger

Reading through The Worm at the Core brings awareness to so many other ideas and extensions of these theories. I’ve been getting into Martin Heidegger and his ideas lately. His book (a set of lectures), “Being and Time” is available on archive.org. Forewarning: It’s a difficult book to read. It’s dense, and I don’t understand a lot of it. It was originally written in German, and the translator claimed that it was very difficult to translate into English (some say it’s impossible to translate). He was an extraordinary thinker—way beyond my capabilities to understand. There are some “nuggets” in the book. One of them, pointed out by Sheldon Solomon, is the quote in this essay. That’s what I’m most intrigued by.

Having lived in Germany and having a basic understanding of the language, the word “angst” is used a lot in his writing. I’ve always understood the word to mean “fear.” Most translate it to “anxiety.” What it really means is a feeling of uneasiness, or "dis-ease," or a feeling of not “being at home” (not in the literal sense of home, but psychologically). Heidegger gives a clear and compelling solution to overcoming, or at least coming to terms with, death and death anxiety. Kierkegaard offered a solution of taking a “leap into faith,” and Heidegger offers the same idea, but instead of faith, he says, “take a leap into life.” You can read the deconstruction of his philosophy below.

Another thing that I’ve been giving thought to is a “flowchart” of terror management theory. Breaking it down into a simple, line-by-line evolution of what happens to human beings in life as it applies to coping with the knowledge of death:

• You were born.

• You cry, scream, and shake; miraculously, a “deity figure(s)" (parents or caregivers) appears and your diaper is changed, you’re fed, or you're cuddled. Life is good.

• You grow older and lean on your parents or caregivers for psychological security as well as all of your Maslow needs (shelter, food, warmth, etc.).

• You grow through childhood and the teenage years, learning how to bolster your self-esteem. Your parents or caregivers provide the framework and reward for this. For example, when you learn to use the toilet, “Good boy or girl!” You earn top grades on your schoolwork. “Great job!” You go to the school prom, and everyone says, “You look so pretty or handsome!” This bolsters your self-esteem; you feel significant and have meaning in your life. Death anxiety is held at bay.

• You learn how to respect and honor your country or tribe (Americans put their hands over their hearts and say “the pledge of allegiance”) and the important symbols from your culture: a flag, a cross, a star, a uniform, etc.

• You attend religious services with your parents and learn how to be a “good person” and how to achieve immortality through a religion; this provides psychological security and buffers death anxiety. You know that you will never really die! Life is meaningful, and I have a purpose; my religion says so!

• You separate from your parents or caregivers as a young adult. Now, you look to your culture for the same psychological security that your parents or caregivers provided.

• You quickly learn what your culture rewards and what it doesn’t. This is how your cultural worldview is established and maintained. For example, you might belong to a particular religion you strongly believe in or a political group you adamantly embrace. You might get a promotion at your job, be recognized as “employee of the month,” get a degree from higher education, earn a lot of money, drive a fancy car, live in a big house, get a lot of “likes” on social media, etc. These all provide self-esteem for you. Self-esteem buffers death anxiety. It’s kept repressed and buried deep in your unconscious. In fact, some of you reading this will proclaim, “What are you talking about? This doesn’t apply to me; I don’t think about death!” Exactly. See how well it works? When you’re ensconced in your cultural worldview, it will keep thoughts of death repressed, at least for the most part.

• You go through life wrapped in the illusions that your culture provides—religion, community, politics, relationships, etc. They give you a feeling of significance in a meaningful world (psychological security). This keeps existential anxiety at bay, for the most part.

• You are, at this point, a culturally constructed meat puppet.

• If you are one of the unlucky ones or live in a culture that either doesn’t provide ways for you to bolster your self-esteem or that offers ways that are unattainable for the average person, i.e., not everyone can be a movie star, a rock star, a professional athlete, or the president of the United States, this can, and often does, extend to physical appearance as well. If you’re not thin (especially women) and stay young forever, the culture can be harsh and not only prevent you from getting self-esteem, it will point out your faults and shortcomings: you’re fat, you’re old, you're the wrong color, you have wrinkly skin and gray hair, etc.

• When a person cannot find ways to bolster their self-esteem, they will often turn to drugs, alcohol, eating, shopping, narcissistic behavior, social media, and different kinds of risky behaviors. The 19th-century philosopher Soren Kierkegaard called this “tranquilizing with the trivial.” One of the reasons the United States has such a high rate of drug abuse, depression, anxiety, and deaths of despair, including those that die by suicide, is because the culture sets standards for attaining self-esteem that are not attainable for the average American.

• According to Martin Heidegger, if one ceases to numb oneself to the knowledge of one's own mortality, known as "flight from death," and instead undergoes what he termed a "turning," they may discover a newfound sense of ease with death anxiety and the inherent truths of the human condition. This turning leads to a greater appreciation for life's simple yet profound pleasures, such as recognizing the beauty in virtuous individuals, the finite nature of humanity, the majesty of nature, or even something as seemingly mundane as a refreshing breeze on a sweltering day.

• Both Frederick Nietzsche and Ernest Becker discussed the concept of the "authentic man" in their respective philosophical works.

  Nietzsche believed that the authentic man was one who lived according to his own values and ideals, rather than those imposed upon him by society or tradition. For Nietzsche, the authentic man was a "free spirit," unencumbered by conventional morality or religious dogma. He argued that the authentic man was capable of creating his own values and living a fulfilling life, rather than being constrained by the values of others.

  Becker, on the other hand, believed that the authentic man was one who had come to terms with his own mortality and the inevitability of death. He argued that in order to live a meaningful life, one must confront the reality of death and the limitations of human existence. For Becker, the authentic man was one who had overcome the fear of death and embraced life fully, without illusions or delusions.

  In both cases, the authentic man is someone who is true to himself and lives a life that is genuinely his own. Nietzsche emphasizes the importance of individuality and creativity in this process, while Becker emphasizes the importance of confronting one's mortality and accepting the limitations of human existence. This is the antithesis of a culturally constructed meat puppet.

Culturally Constructed Meat Puppet

The Terror Management Theory (TMT), which is based on Becker's ideas, suggests that individuals cope with the inevitability of death by developing their self-esteem and identifying with their cultural group. This allows them to feel significant and have a sense of purpose and meaning in their lives.

However, there is a risk associated with this approach, as individuals may become "culturally constructed meat puppets" who are entirely dependent on their roles and conform to cultural standards for their sense of self-worth.

Becker's theory also explains why people tend to fear and dislike those who hold different beliefs or belong to different groups. When reminded of their mortality, people often become more strongly identified with their own groups and view outsiders as the embodiment of evil. This can result in animosity and even violence toward those who are different.

The idea of a “culturally constructed meat puppet” is meant to highlight the tension between our biological nature and our cultural aspirations. On the one hand, we are flesh-and-blood creatures that are subject to the laws of nature. On the other hand, we are aware that we need to create meaning and purpose through our engagement with our culture.

Are you a culturally constructed meat puppet? Humans are like hamsters on a wheel, spinning around and around and going nowhere—or like Sisyphus pushing the rock up the mountain only to have it roll back down over and over again. We do these things every day to distract ourselves from the knowledge of death. Beware of insatiable desires—money and stuff.

Martin Heidegger

Martin Heidegger (1889–1976) was a German philosopher who is widely regarded as one of the most important and influential philosophers of the 20th century. He is known for his highly original and complex philosophy, which deals with a wide range of topics including ontology (the study of being), phenomenology, hermeneutics (the study of interpretation), and existentialism.

Heidegger's most famous work is Being and Time, published in 1927, which is widely regarded as one of the most important philosophical works of the 20th century. In this book, Heidegger explores the nature of human existence and the relationship between being and time. He argues that human beings are fundamentally "thrown" into the world, meaning that we find ourselves in a particular time and place, and we must make sense of this situation through our own existence.

Heidegger's philosophy is highly influenced by his interest in ancient Greek philosophy as well as his experiences living in Germany during the 20th century. His political views, which included membership in the Nazi party in the early 1930s, have been the subject of controversy and criticism, but his philosophical ideas continue to be studied and debated by scholars and philosophers around the world.

“Turning away from a flight from death, you see a horizon of opportunity that puts you in a state of anticipatory resoluteness with solicitous regard for others that makes your life seem like an adventure perfused with unshakeable joy.”

— Martin Heidegger, Being and Time (1927)

This quote is a reflection of Martin Heidegger's philosophy, which places great emphasis on the concept of "being toward death." For Heidegger, death is not simply an event that happens to us at some point in the future but rather an essential aspect of our being. In other words, our mortality is not something we can escape or ignore; it is a fundamental part of who we are.

The quote suggests that if one confronts their mortality and does not try to flee from it, they may see a horizon of opportunities that can give their life a sense of purpose and direction. By embracing the inevitability of death, one can live with a sense of "anticipatory resoluteness," meaning that they are ready and willing to face whatever challenges come their way.

Additionally, Heidegger suggests that this attitude should be accompanied by "solicitous regard for others," meaning that we should also be concerned with the well-being of those around us. By living with this kind of awareness and consideration for others, one's life can become an "adventure perfused with unshakeable joy," filled with meaning and purpose.

Heidegger's quote highlights the importance of confronting our mortality and living with a sense of purpose and concern for others. It's a beautiful idea that everyone should work toward. The first step is to understand the true nature of your condition, without doing that, nothing changes.

Psychology, Philosophy, History, Art, and Death Anxiety

Pretty Pictures, The Technical Versus The Conceptual, and the Masses: Try Something New
We lean so heavily on "pretty" (aka "chocolate box") pictures or "process photography" pictures that we forget about narrative, meaning, and intent—all of the things that really make photographs and storytelling interesting and meaningful. This is not a new topic. I've been preaching this message for years on my YouTube channel, in my books and workshops, and anywhere else I can engage in conversation about making art and photography.

Let’s be honest; most photography is easy to forget. We see so much of it that it becomes less interesting or engaging. And it’s not anchored to anything meaningful that people can connect to. I define meaningful as something weighty in life—work that contains life lessons that we can use to become better people in some way—to be an asset to the world, not a liability.

I’m not talking about technical prowess either. A lot of times, this is conflated with meaning or importance. People love to see big photographs or rare processes. The content of the photograph seems irrelevant, and most of the time, the process and size have little or nothing to do with the subject matter.

The technical work is easy to talk about. It’s safe and universally appealing. This demographic always wants to know about the equipment you're using—what camera, what lens, etc. I always offer the Ernest Hemingway analogy. I've never heard anyone ask what kind of typewriter he used to write "The Old Man and the Sea." Why is that? It's very similar to this obsession with gear and equipment, processes, and size.

They connect technically, but in no other meaningful way. The emphasis appears to be solely on the technical, with no regard for the conceptual or narrative content. I believe they connect to these images because they want to replicate what they see and appeal to the masses to get "likes" and "views" on social media. They want the attention and adulation simply for carrying out a technical process or for owning expensive or rare equipment, period. This seems trivial and mechanical. Do you see why this type of photography is everywhere and why you see it so often? It's a feedback loop, and it’s derivative.

There’s a logical fallacy called Argumentum ad Populum (an appeal to popularity, public opinion, or the majority). It’s an argument, often emotionally laden, for the acceptance of an unproven conclusion by adducing irrelevant evidence based on the feelings, prejudices, or beliefs of a large group of people—the masses. Based on social media, this is how I see most photography today. It’s rare that we get a body of work that’s connected to a narrative or has substance, meaning, or any of the other attributes that I’ve mentioned. The pull of social media is too strong—the desire or need to be accepted and “liked” is powerful (see Becker and self-esteem). The one-off, cliched images are what the masses want. I believe we can do better. We can raise the bar. I know we can. I’m going to try my best to model this behavior with this project.

"The immediate man - the modern inauthentic or insincere man - is someone who blindly follows the trends of society to the dot. Someone who unthinkingly implements what society says is ‘right.’ He recognizes himself only by his dress,...he recognizes that he has a self only by externals. He converts frivolous patterns to make them his identity. He often distorts his own personality in order to 'fit into the group.' His opinion means nothing even to himself, hence he imitates others to superficially look "normal." - Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death

Having said that, I will tell you that I’m going all in on this work (In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of “Othering”). I’m going to push the boundaries as much as possible. I even want to try to transcend photography in some ways. I want the viewer to remember the message in the story—the "meat," if you will. I want them to connect in a real way to the narrative and ideas and to put that proverbial pebble in their shoe.

Trying To Do Something Different
Most of you who read my posts regularly know that this is a unique project. I might even assert that it hasn’t been done before. I’m combing art, psychology, philosophy, theology, history, and existential anxiety to talk about human behavior. This is a distinctive combination of the humanities and art. I haven’t seen anything like it in my research.

I say that with the caveat of Otto Rank’s book, “Art and Artist.” This book is a difficult and dense read. Rank’s ideas would relate most closely to what I’m trying to do, at least the ideas and execution, or simply dealing with the creative life as a psychological defense against the knowledge of death. But even this is in a different context. In his book, he contemplated the creative type of man, who is the one whose "experience makes him take in the world as a problem... but when you no longer accept the collective solution to the problem of existence, then you must fashion your own... The work of art is... the ideal answer...”

All of this motivates me, and it makes it exciting to do the work.

The impetus behind this work is psychology. The theories of Ernest Becker are at the core of it. There are a lot of other people who have influenced the work, but as far as the main component goes, it’s Becker. The terror management theory is just as important. TMT gives evidence for Becker’s theories, so I’m leaning heavily on TMT too. I will include all of the references and resources in the book. You’ll see how vast and rich they are.

I believe these are very important ideas, maybe the most important I've ever heard. They explain so much and answer so many questions, questions that I’ve carried for 50 years. My hope is that the reader or viewer will take away positive ideas for making the world a better place. This is not about being negative or pessimistic. These ideas should nudge you toward celebrating every day we are above ground and being humble and grateful to be alive. The most valuable things are finite and have a relatively short lifespan. That describes humanity very well.

“In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of ‘Othering’”
My intention is to create a psychological connection between my photographs of the land, plants, and symbols of the Tabeguache-Ute and the historical event of colonization. I'm providing psychological evidence as to why atrocities like these and so many others happen. It’s based on human awareness of death, or death anxiety.

While I’m using a specific historical event, the ethnocide and genocide of Native Americans, specifically the Tabeguache-Ute, this could be any number of similar events in history. I’m using psychology, philosophy, theology, history, and art (19th-century photography) to tell the story of "othering" or the psychology of "othering."

It’s not just telling a story of historical atrocities. It’s describing in detail the psychological underpinnings of "othering." I'm answering the questions about why these kinds of things happen, and I’m backing my claims and assertions with empirical evidence. I’m asking and answering the “big questions:” Why do we marginalize certain groups of people? Why are we threatened by people who are different from us? Why do we start wars? Why do we commit genocide? Why are we ignoring climate change? Etcetera, etcetera. I'm attempting to answer those questions with this body of work and book.

I’m addressing this subject somewhat academically. In other words, I’m drawing on the writing and research of social psychologists, scientists, philosophers, theologians, and anthropologists. I’m also referencing a lot of writers who would be considered artists—playwrights, novelists, and poets. My approach to this work is interdisciplinary because this topic requires a wide range of information to be understood.

I live on this land now. In a lot of ways, I struggle with it. I understand what happened here and why. I can't change the past. I wish I could. What I can do is offer or extend the notion of self-examination. These events, and many others like them, should not be viewed as "in the past," but as something that can happen to anyone at any time. Consider your own psychological pathology of existential terror. Consider what psychological defenses, or buffers, you are using to repress the anxiety. Are they positive? Are they an asset or a liability to the world? It's a lot more difficult to create a great work of art than to post insults and argue on social media. They're both defenses, or buffers; one is an asset, and the other is a liability.

Consciousness is the Parent of All Horror: It’s the Worm at the Core
A more detailed definition would be that my work is about human consciousness. The knowledge that we exist and the consequences of that knowledge—knowing that we’re going to die—are too much for us to psychologically handle. It truly is the worm at the core. Sheldon Solomon said, “The thing that renders us unique as human beings is that we’re smart enough to know that like all living things, we too will die. The fear or anxiety that is engendered by that unwelcome realization, when we try to distance ourselves from it or deny it, that’s when we bury it under the psychological bushes as it were, it comes back to bear bitter and malignant fruit, on the other hand folks who have the good fortune by virtue of circumstance or their character or disposition to really be able to explicitly ponder what it means to be alive in light of the fact that we are transient creatures here for a relatively inconsequential amount of time; I buy the argument theologically, philosophically, as well as psychologically and empirically, that can bring out the best in us, and that our most noble and heroic aspirations are the result of the rare individual, who’s able to live life to the fullest, by understanding as Heidegger put it, that we can be summarily obliterated not in some vaguely unspecified future moment but at any second in our lives.”

When he says, "It comes back to bear bitter and malignant fruit," that sums up my central point about this work: answering the questions about the decimation of the Tabeguache-Ute and millions of other human beings. Why do these kinds of things happen? What are the solutions to preventing these kinds of things? These and other questions about human behavior are addressed by this psychology.

Thomas Ligotti’s book, “The Conspiracy Against the Human Race,” says, "consciousness is the parent of all horror." He quotes quite a lot from Peter Zapffe's 1933 essay, "The Last Messiah," referring to anti-natalism and pollyannaism, or the Pollyanna Principle. His position, because of this knowledge, states that it would have been better to have never existed in the first place. He encourages humans to stop procreating. The end of Zapffe’s book also draws this conclusion. He posits that human consciousness was an evolutionary mistake. This sentiment is echoed throughout pessimistic philosophy; it’s not new. On one hand, it is difficult to argue against—the pain and suffering in the world can’t be fathomed. If you read Zapffe’s book, you’ll know what I mean.

"The life of the worlds is a roaring river, but Earth's is a pond and backwater.
The sign of doom is written on your brows—how long will ye kick against the pin-pricks?
But there is one conquest and one crown, one redemption and one solution.
Know yourselves—be infertile and let the earth be silent after ye."
Peter Zapffe, The Last Messiah

A Different Perspective
Richard Dawkins, in his book Unweaving the Rainbow: Science, Delusion, and the Appetite for Wonder, said, “We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here. We privileged few, who won the lottery of birth against all odds, how dare we whine at our inevitable return to that prior state from which the vast majority have never stirred?“

You can have a different perspective on these ideas, but the bottom line returns to the knowledge of our impending deaths and the effects that has on our behavior. There is enough evidence to show that, while there are a lot of things to take into consideration, mortality salience drives most human behavior. Exploring that idea is what I’m most interested in for this body of work.