To Buffer or Not to Buffer?

Why Not Just Buffer?

Buffering is the psychological and cultural process that regulates our awareness of death, embedding it within beliefs, identities, and meanings that make it tolerable enough to live and function. Most of us do this constantly, automatically, and without knowing it. The question worth sitting with is not whether buffering happens, but what it costs, and whether there is anything worth preserving on the other side of it.

Why not simply buffer and numb out to the reality of mortality? If it keeps us functional, stable, even relatively content, why not leave it in place?

One answer is pragmatic: in many cases, we probably do need some degree of numbing. Becker, Zapffe, and the Terror Management theorists who followed them are fairly clear on this. Zapffe, the Norwegian philosopher whose work predates and in some ways anticipates Becker's, argued that human consciousness is biologically overbuilt for survival. In "The Last Messiah" (1933), he wrote that we are the only creatures who can foresee our own deaths, and that this foresight is not a gift but a burden we spend most of our lives managing through what he called anchoring: attaching ourselves to fixed values, identities, and purposes that hold the abyss at a manageable distance. A fully unfiltered awareness of mortality is not something most people can sustain without consequence. The real question, then, is not whether buffering exists, but how much of it we rely on, and at what cost.

The argument for remaining conscious, at least intermittently, has less to do with moral superiority and more to do with what becomes available when the buffer loosens. When mortality is not fully suppressed, certain patterns become visible: the contingency of one's worldview, the constructed nature of identity, the fragility of meaning. That recognition can be destabilizing, but it can also open a different kind of responsiveness.

From one angle, this is about accuracy. You see more of what is actually structuring your experience rather than mistaking the structure for reality itself. That doesn't dissolve the structure, but it introduces a degree of reflexivity. You are not only inside it; you are also aware of being inside it.

From another angle, it shifts the register of creative work. If anxiety is only buffered, it tends to get displaced into symbolic systems that reinforce the existing worldview. If it is metabolized, even partially, it can move through the work differently, less as defense and more as material. That is where the distinction between buffering and processing becomes meaningful. It is not that one eliminates anxiety while the other doesn't. It is that one reorganizes how anxiety circulates. Rank made a related observation in Art and Artist (1932), arguing that the creative act is never simply a resolution of anxiety but a repeated negotiation with it, one that can either fortify the existing character structure or, in rarer cases, begin to transform it.

There is also an ethical dimension, and it is sharper than it might first appear. In Escape from Evil (1975), Becker argues that the same defensive structures which protect the individual from death anxiety can, under pressure, harden into aggression toward those who embody a different answer to the problem of mortality. We don't buffer privately alone; we buffer collectively, and we tend to protect those buffers by marginalizing or harming whoever threatens them. Greater consciousness doesn't automatically dissolve this dynamic, but it does make it harder to participate in unconsciously. You begin to see the mechanism, and seeing it introduces at least the possibility of refusal.

At the same time, there is no guarantee of relief or clarity. In some cases, increased awareness simply intensifies the tension. That is why many traditions, philosophical and religious alike, have treated this not as something to be exposed but contained. The Stoics practiced memento mori as a disciplined, bounded form of mortality awareness, not an invitation to sustained exposure (Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, c. 161–180 CE). The point was regulation, not immersion.

What Does a Fully Unbuffered Life Actually Suffer?

If you take the idea seriously, "fully unbuffered" is not just more awareness. It is a qualitative shift in how experience is organized.

At the psychological level, the first consequence is overwhelm, not in a vague sense but something closer to what Becker describes in The Denial of Death (1973) as the terror that symbolic systems exist to manage. Without the usual filters, mortality is no longer abstract or deferred. It becomes immediate, pervasive, and difficult to bracket. The ordinary scaffolding that keeps experience coherent begins to loosen, and what follows can register as acute anxiety or panic.

Cognitively, meaning itself begins to destabilize. If cultural narratives, identities, and purposes are seen through completely, they may lose their binding force, not because they are simply false but because their constructed nature is no longer hidden. The risk is not just doubt. It is a kind of flattening, where distinctions between what matters and what doesn't become harder to sustain. That can slide toward nihilism or toward a collapse of motivational structure. Yalom describes something like this in Existential Psychotherapy (1980), noting that confrontations with mortality, when uncontained, can produce not liberation but a disorienting loss of the ordinary purposes that structure daily life.

Functionally, this matters. Action depends on a certain degree of selective blindness. You go to work, make plans, take risks, invest in relationships, all under conditions where death is backgrounded. If it moves fully into the foreground, it can interrupt those processes. Why build, strive, or commit if the endpoint is not just known but constantly present? Some people might still act, but the basis for action shifts, and often weakens.

There is also a social cost. Shared worldviews are not only individual defenses; they are collective agreements, what TMT researchers Greenberg, Pyszczynski, and Solomon (1986) describe as culturally constructed realities that function precisely because their members treat them as given rather than chosen. When one person steps too far outside them, communication strains. You begin to see the rules of the game while others are still playing it as if it were simply the world. That produces a particular kind of isolation, not dramatic, not always chosen, but persistent.

At the extreme, what full unbuffering describes starts to resemble states that clinical psychology would classify as pathological: severe anxiety disorders, depersonalization, certain forms of existential depression. That does not mean the perception is wrong. But it does suggest that the human system is not built to sustain that level of exposure continuously.

Which is why the metaphor of a dimmer switch is more useful than an on/off toggle. It implies regulation rather than elimination, a system that allows glimpses, moments where the structure thins and something more fundamental shows through, before reconstituting itself so that life can continue. The question is not how to remove the buffer entirely. It is how to move along that spectrum without collapsing; how to see more, at intervals, and still remain capable of living, acting, and making. That is the territory this work tries to stay inside, not because it is comfortable, but because it is honest, and because something that might be called clarity, or at least a less mediated relationship to being alive, waits on the other side of looking.

References
Aurelius, M. (2002). Meditations (G. Hays, Trans.). Modern Library. (Original work written c. 161–180 CE)

Becker, E. (1973). The denial of death. Free Press.

Becker, E. (1975). Escape from evil. Free Press.

Greenberg, J., Pyszczynski, T., & Solomon, S. (1986). The causes and consequences of a need for self-esteem: A terror management theory. In R. F. Baumeister (Ed.), Public self and private self (pp. 189–212). Springer.

Rank, O. (1932). Art and artist: Creative urge and personality development (C. F. Atkinson, Trans.). Alfred A. Knopf.

Yalom, I. D. (1980). Existential psychotherapy. Basic Books.

Zapffe, P. W. (1933). The last messiah (G. R. Tangenes, Trans.). Philosophy Now, 45, 21–24. (Original work published 1933)

Anxiety, Depression, and Art

There are a lot of topics that are off limits to discuss in American culture.

We’re basically taught to steer clear of talking about things like death, mental health, sex, religion, and politics. You know, the stuff that gets people riled up or makes them super uncomfortable and sometimes extremely angry.

Bringing up these taboo subjects can even lead to people acting out aggressively. And honestly, with the way things are right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if we see some of that in the coming days or weeks. I’m really hoping it doesn’t happen, but I’m not holding my breath.

In this post, I’m going to address one of the big ones: mental health issues and the death anxiety connection.

DEATH ANXIETY & MENTAL HEALTH

I would propose that, like death, mental illness is something we don’t understand. The human brain is very complex. It will be a long time before we can address mental health issues like a broken leg or a common cold.

We’re frightened of things we can’t explain or understand. We typically repress them or make something up to explain them (i.e., conspiracy theories).

We live in a death-denying culture. We lie and deny all of the time about uncomfortable facts. Humans generally don’t seek truth; they seek out what makes them feel good; this is called confirmation bias.

Confirmation bias is a cognitive bias that involves favoring information that confirms one's preexisting beliefs or hypotheses. It causes people to seek out, interpret, and remember evidence in a way that reinforces their views while disregarding or downplaying information that contradicts them. This bias can influence decision-making and perception, often leading to flawed conclusions because it limits a person's ability to objectively evaluate information.

In their book Denial: Self-Deception, False Beliefs, and the Origins of the Human Mind, Ajit Varki and Danny Brower present a compelling theory that denial and self-deception are integral components of human evolution. They propose that the capacity for self-awareness combined with an understanding of mortality should have led to debilitating levels of anxiety, potentially preventing early humans from functioning effectively or thriving.

To cope with this awareness of death, humans developed a psychological mechanism of denial. They contend that by suppressing their constant anxiety over mortality, humans were able to innovate, take risks, and pursue their goals without feeling paralyzed by fear. Lying and self-deception, as extensions of this denial, became adaptive traits, contributing to the survival and advancement of human beings.

They suggest that these traits are essential for human society but come with significant consequences, such as the persistence of irrational beliefs and the difficulty in addressing existential truths. Which brings me to my point.

MY EXPERIENCE WITH MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES

Depression and anxiety are two sides of the same coin. I know about both of them.

This is not about the “madness” of creative people or some old trope about being mentally ill as a great way to access creativity. I don’t buy into a lot of that nonsense. I don’t believe it works that way at all. In fact, I would argue the exact opposite: art is created to quell existential concerns, not because of them. The cart and horse analogy would apply here.

For most of my adult life, at least since my mid-to-late twenties (post military), I’ve suffered from anxiety and sometimes depression. It’s varied in form; sometimes completely disabling and other times only mild and kind of an inconvenience.

“Man stands face to face with the irrational. He feels within him his longing for happiness and for reason. The absurd is born of this confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the world.”

— Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

I never know why or when it’s going to show up. There is always a "rumble,” just below the surface, and I’m never really completely free from it. The anxiety part is the biggest problem for me. I do turn to making art when it hits.

Art has helped me a lot. However, since reading Becker and studying terror management theory, I think I have a better handle on what it is and even ways to deal with it from an analytical perspective—in my own way. I try to break down these complex concepts into smaller parts to understand how they work, relate to each other, or contribute to the whole. This helps me. Or at least gives me some comfort.

What causes anxiety or depression? That depends on who you ask. I would answer it like this: When a person suffers from depression or anxiety, the blinders about life are lifted. The person sees and feels the world for what it is—a terrifying, meaningless place. Zapffe used the term cosmic panic to describe an overwhelming existential realization of the absurdity and meaninglessness of human existence in the universe. In essence, the person’s illusions are no longer in place or meaningful. These illusions, whatever they might be, are disabled, and existence reveals itself for what it really is.

That explanation for me is real. I’ve lived it and continue to live it every day. Ernest Becker made it very clear that if we didn’t have illusions or constructs to lean on, we would be in a state of constant dread or terror. He said without illusions to quell our death anxiety, human beings would face a psychological crisis. In his book The Denial of Death, he argued that humans are unique in their awareness of mortality, which creates an existential fear. To cope with this, we construct illusions or "immortality projects" that give our lives meaning, such as creative projects, religious beliefs, political beliefs, and achievements that help us feel part of something enduring or “immortal.”

If these illusions are stripped away (via anxiety or depression), Becker believed that we would experience paralyzing dread or even nihilism, making it difficult or impossible to function or find purpose. This unbearable fear of death, left unchecked, could result in significant psychological distress and societal chaos, as people would lack the comforting frameworks that provide a sense of continuity and hope. In essence, our illusions shield us from the raw awareness of our impermanence, allowing us to live more manageable and motivated lives.

Art and a creative life give me meaning and purpose. Do I know, intellectually speaking, that my art is meaningless and won’t endure? Yes, I do. However, for me to function every day, I need to make art, and I need to pursue my preoccupation with human behavior.

In the words of Albert Camus, “Man stands face to face with the irrational. He feels within him his longing for happiness and for reason. The absurd is born of this confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the world.” The Myth of Sisyphus.

Psychology and Art: An Interesting Question

I recently got an email from someone in New Zealand that really caught my interest. They're in a Ph.D. program for creative writing and posed a very interesting question. I won't spill the whole email to keep things private, but here's the scoop: they wanted to know about artists influenced by death anxiety and terror management theory, seeing them as potential genres in art and literature. They gave a shoutout to my website and wished me luck in 2024. (Thanks for the email if you happen to see this post.)

I've been thinking a lot about this question. I've only come across one article about a painter diving into Becker's theories for their art. It's a fascinating question that could kick off a bit of a "movement" in the creative arts world if artists could accommodate and assimilate these theories. Most of the information on death anxiety and terror management theory is wrapped up in the world of science and academia. Most artists won't read these kinds of books and papers.

Imagine if artists from all walks of life hopped on board and started creating based on these ideas. It could add a whole new layer to humanity that other genres might miss. Sure, these ideas are a bit tricky to grasp and even tougher to apply to your own life. But once you get them, they're a game-changer.

How awesome would it be to encourage artists to dig into Becker's work and create stuff directly tied to death anxiety and terror management theory? Here's the kicker: a ton of art already revolves around these ideas; we just don't always see it that way. Death is something we all grapple with, and we're all kind of in denial that it's coming for us at some point. It's a universal theme that could make art even more relatable and powerful.

"Culturally Constructed Meat Puppets," 3.75" x 5" acrylic on paper.

The Worm at the Core: Chapter 4: Homo Mortalis From Primate to Human

Photo: Half Plate Negative/Albumen Print, "Black Man in Germany" 2008

Chapter 4: Homo Mortalis From Primate to Human

- The Dawn of Human Cognition

- Mortal Terror and the Invention of the Supernatural

- Ritual: Wishful Thinking in Action

- Sacrifice and Death Rites

- Art and the Supernatural

- Myth and Religion

- Bounding Across the “Yawning Chasm”

This is a reading of the book "The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life" by Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg, and Tom Pyszczynski. Quinn will read a chapter every week and then have a discussion about it. This book, along with "The Denial of Death" by Ernest Becker, is the basis for Quinn's (photographic) book, "In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Genesis of Evil."

Saturday, April 8, 2023, at 1000 MST on my YouTube channel and Stream Yard. Links to the show are on my blog.

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nJjfE0wvS8

Stream Yard: https://streamyard.com/udpybu94wi

#intheshadowofsunmountain #ernestbecker #deathanxiety #denialofdeath #sheldonsolomon #jeffgreenberg #tompyszcynski #terrormanagementtheory #thewormatthecore #quinnjacobson #studioQ #chemicalpictures

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.