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.

“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"

I’m making most of these color flora prints with the 10” x 10” Chamonix camera and an 1874 Dallmeyer 3B lens.

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.

The “scene” photographed with an iPhone to give you an idea of my working environment.

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.

“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.”

— Thomas Ligotti, The Conspiracy Against the Human Race

“Flowering Prickly Pear Cactus and Water Vase,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm), RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 7, 2023. If you look close, you can see what I’m experimenting with. I exposed the paper backwards—exposing through the paper—and then exposed it again with the emulsion forward. It looks really great in your hand.

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.

“The mission of every man is to fulfill the lie he incarnates, to succeed in being no more than an exhausted illusion.”

— Emil Cioran

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.

Why Photographic Prints (and Books) Are Important

“We have in fact only two certainties in this world - that we are not everything and that we will die.”

— Georges Bataille

You hear advice for digital photographers to “print their images.” It’s good advice. Storage cards and drives crash all the time. I suspect very few actually follow that advice. However, this essay is not about that type of printing, and the ideas that I’m going to address live in a completely different space. This is about the photographic fine art print as an object of value: something tangible and handmade. As well as the importance of books and the meaning of value,

In this essay, I want to address the idea of value as it relates to prints and books in the photographic fine art world. What is value, and how do you define it?

Have you ever thought about the importance of the photographic print? What I mean is that when we talk about photography today, it’s usually about posting digital snaps on social media. I read a scary statistic the other day about “Generation Z” (Zoomer students): very few have ever been to an art gallery (to see work in person), even fewer own any photography books, or books in general, and almost none of them have ever been in a photographic darkroom. Their photographic and art world lives online in zeros and ones. That really shocked me. The last few wet collodion demonstrations I did (pre-COVID) at the local university, I felt that something was “off.” I couldn’t put my finger on it; it just felt like the students were distant and not really interested in my presentation. I’d been doing these for years and never had a response, or lack thereof, like this before. It made me start to wonder about the changing perception of art, literature, and education in general. I taught higher education for a few years; in fact, the initial reason for getting an M.F.A. was to continue to teach in higher education. I had a change of heart when I finished graduate school. I feel that I can contribute more to the world doing what I’m doing now. I’m very grateful that I didn’t continue teaching. I think I would have been disappointed and discouraged by it.

WORK, SKILL, & MATERIALS

The Value of Work
When we talk about value, we have to address some key elements that separate the different approaches to making art using photography. One of the big ones for me is work. The 19th-century French novelist George Sand said, "Work is not man's punishment. It is his reward, his strength, and his pleasure." I agree. I define work as a system of mostly failing and continuing to pursue your goal until you’ve achieved it—be willing to not only accept failure but embrace it. I work the hardest on the ideas behind my work. The other component of my photography is the work in the darkroom and printing. I can spend an hour developing and processing one negative. And I can spend an entire day trying to make a print from the negative that I like. While today’s technology allows a person to fire off thousands of images onto a digital card, my work is in the single digits (maybe three on a good day). I have to physically work for those, and some days are complete failures. Whatever the reason(s), nothing works.

The Value of Skill
This is a topic that can be controversial in the sense of how you determine or define skill. For me, skill includes all of the technical knowledge of any given process plus the wisdom of how to apply the process to achieve a certain aesthetic—not an easy thing to do. Knowledge, gained through the study of new information, consists of a rich storage of information. Wisdom, on the other hand, has to do more with insight, understanding, and accepting the fundamental “nature” of things. Let me back up a little and say that the wisdom of applying an aesthetic to an image comes from the knowledge of what you’re trying to say with the image. In other words, there needs to be a story or narrative in place in order to even do this. Without this, you can’t really do anything.

The Value of Material
One of the most important ideas to me is materials. One of the many reasons I enjoy working with historic processes is the variety of materials available for use in any given process. Everything from the papers to the silver can be used as a metaphor in the work. I used to talk about the glass used in collodion when making photographs of synagogues destroyed in Germany on Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass). Or the cyanide I use to remove the unexposed silver from the plate; the same substance was used in Europe's gas chambers during WWII. With my current project, I’m using a variety of materials that address, directly or indirectly, the thesis of the work. The tangible quality of the materials lies beyond the metaphors. It's an experience to hold a handmade photograph physically in your hands. I believe we've lost touch with the material (physical) aspect of photography. That has changed the medium a lot in my mind. This is where books can be vital. In this digital age, we rely on internet connections, computers (phones), and power to be able to see or read anything. If any one of those isn’t available, the work is no longer available to you. With a book, you only need light.

Photogenic Drawing of Rocky Mountain Barley.

THE HANDMADE PRINT
In the context of a handmade print, value can be defined in several ways, including:

1. Unique craftsmanship: One of the primary sources of value in a handmade print is the uniqueness and individuality of each print produced. Handmade processes often involve a high level of skill, attention to detail, and creativity, which can result in prints that are distinct from one another-each one an original. Viewers may place a premium on handmade items because of their uniqueness and the sense of artistry and personality that they convey.

2. High-quality materials: Handmade processes often involve the use of high-quality materials that are carefully selected and sourced. This can add to the value of the final product, as the materials used may be of a higher quality than those used in mass-produced items.

3. Personal connection: Handmade processes often involve a personal connection between the creator and the product. The maker may have a strong emotional connection to the item they are creating, and this can be conveyed to the viewer in the finished print. Viewers may value this personal connection and feel more attached to handmade items than they would to mass-produced items.

Overall, the value of something made by hand can come from a number of things, such as its uniqueness, quality, and personal connection.

Visions In Mortality - 1993

I just finished writing about my first photographic exhibition in the biography portion of my book (Chapter 2, The Introduction). After careful consideration, I felt it was important to give my background on these theories and ideas in the context of what I'm doing now. It makes so much sense to me now. There is some kind of closure that I feel after all of these years making art about the fear of death and the human behaviors that result from it. I wouldn’t say that I was working blindly or aimlessly all those years; it was more like I was trying to express ideas that I had no concept of explaining with words. It was the intellectual part that was missing. That’s all changed now. I understand what I was doing, and it all fits together beautifully. I am beyond grateful for that.

Over 30 years ago, I was making work about the same things I’m making work about today. The difference is that I’m so much more mature (artistically speaking) and feel like I have a good grasp on these concepts and how to articulate what concerns me. I wrote about my exhibition called "Visions in Mortality." This body of work was exhibited for a few weeks in 1993 as my senior thesis project for undergraduate school.

The images were all manipulated Polaroid work (direct color positives) and poetry. Each image was accompanied by a short poem or passage. I was very influenced by Lucas Samaras and Charles Bukowski at the time. The overall theme was what I’ve always made work about: death anxiety and the knowledge of our mortality. However, as you can see from the statement below, I was venturing into the defense mechanisms that I'm writing about today concerning the denial of death.

In my book, I wrote about four of the 25 or so images from the show. “Clotheshorse,” “Coitus on a Sea of Blue,” “Ketchum, Idaho,” and this one, "Ode to Vincent van Gogh.” This is a self-portrait. I was 29 years old. The image came about by accident while moving the chemistry around during development—the lower portion of my ear was gone. After seeing it emerge, I immediately thought about the painting of Vincent van Gogh—the self-portrait with his bandage and cap—and the self-mutilation and suicide. And the Yellow House.

On the 23rd of December 1888, in a small house in Arles, in the south of France, one of the most famous artists of all time—Vincent van Gogh—feverishly cut off his own ear in a mysterious act of self-mutilation. The circumstances in which van Gogh cut off his ear are not exactly known, but many experts believe that it was following a furious argument with Paul Gauguin at the Yellow House. Afterwards, van Gogh allegedly packaged up the ear and gave it to a prostitute in a nearby brothel—that wasn’t true; he gave it to a cleaning lady. He was then admitted to a hospital in Arles, France. He died by suicide about 18 months later, on July 29, 1890.

Mental illness has been a long preoccupation of mine—all human behavior, really. I’ve always wondered, just like any marginalized community, why these afflictions happen. I feel like I have some answers now, and while they are not definitive or absolute, they do point me in the right direction for why these kinds of things happen to people. I address suicide in my "Ketchum, Idaho” image as well. It’s a self-portrait sitting on the grave of Ernest Hemingway. These questions have always been present in my work.

Here’s my artist’s statement from the show in 1993—this is verbatim:

“Visions in Mortality”
This project deals with the reality of life, which is death, both visually and textually. This project is meant to communicate the intense and complicated process of life and our struggle with mortality as we approach death.

Whether life is short or long, it inevitably consists of much pain, suffering, depression, hurt, confusion, boredom, and misery, with only a “sprinkle” now and then of happiness, joy, love, peace, honor, and understanding. So many people are on the futile quest to attain happiness and understanding through physical, materialistic, and intellectual means that they neglect to realize their failure and ultimately find themselves in a “mortality crisis.”

This project deals with both the long term “reality” of life and few and far between “sprinkles” of the good stuff. It represents what I and many others see, feel, and experience as the human race.

Overall, this imagery communicates that both life and death are frightening, beautiful, and mysterious conditions.

Chapter By Chapter-Chapter 3 Death Anxiety

Chapter 3: Death Anxiety—This chapter is based on Ernest Becker’s book, "The Denial of Death." The book is quite dense and academically written, but it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read. It literally changed my life.

It’s my burden to unpack the ideas that Becker puts forth and present them to the reader in a way that makes sense and is applicable to their lives. I’ll also show the direct connection between the photographic work and the psychology behind these theories.

I’m writing and organizing, and then rewriting and reorganizing. There are two chapters detailing how these theories work and the underlying psychology. They are: death anxiety and terror management theory.

What is death anxiety? In a few words, it's the desire to stay alive that is in direct conflict, psychologically speaking, with the reality and knowledge that we will die. This causes a sort of cognitive dissonance; it creates unbearable anxiety, terror, and dread. We do everything we can to deny and avoid thinking about our death.

The human animal isn’t terrified of dying—not of the actual moment of death—but of being impermanent (mortal) and dying without significance. Impermanence and insignificance are what create existential terror. That’s what’s unbearable. And this comes from consciousness—the knowledge that we're here. Soren Kierkegaard (1833–1855), a 19th-century Danish philosopher, said that humans can "render themselves the object of their own subjective inquiry." Think about that! That's our big forebrain in action. And psychoanalyst Otto Rank said humans have the capacity "to make the unreal real." This intelligence is a big part of the problem we face. Some think that consciousness is an evolutionary mistake and that we, like all other animals, shouldn’t be aware of our impending deaths.

However, we’ve evolved to cope with this burden by suppressing that death awareness knowledge through self-esteem and using culture. We create “immortality projects.” According to Becker, fear—or denial—of death is a fundamental motivator behind why we do what we do.

Becker said that the real world is simply too terrible to admit. If we didn't have ways of buffering the fear, anxiety, and helplessness over our death and meaninglessness, it would paralyze us and keep us from getting out of bed in the morning. So there is a need to repress it. We use what Becker and all anthropologists call "culture" or "cultural worldview." This "cultural worldview" is a shared reality that we all believe in or subscribe to—a value and belief system that comes from our culture. We find self-esteem through this cultural worldview.

For example, our culture tells us that having a job and getting promotions is a good thing, as is earning more money, driving a certain type of car, or dressing a certain way. If we do these things, our self-esteem is strengthened, and we have a defense or coping mechanism to repress the anxiety that comes from knowing we are going to die. These buffers can be good or bad. That’s why it’s important to be conscious of these ideas and the psychology behind them. Like Freud said, "Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate." We can get ourselves out of it by being explicitly aware that we’re in it. Albert Camus said, “…come to terms with death; thereafter, anything is possible." This is the crux of why I'm writing this book and doing this work.

Culture, or cultural worldviews, are defense mechanisms against the knowledge that we will die. Becker argues that humans live in both a physical world of objects and a symbolic world of meaning. The symbolic part of human life engages in what Becker calls an "immortality project." People try to create or become part of something they believe will last forever—art, music, literature, religion, nation-states, social and political movements, etc. Such connections, they believe, give their lives meaning.

Kierkegaard talked about this dread-evoking mystery. He believed that anxiety comes from our knowledge of finitude and meaninglessness. Becker concurs with this point and expounds on it. Kierkegaard said that humans focus their attention on small tasks and diversions that have the illusion of significance—activities that keep people going. If they dwell on the situation too long, they'll bog down and be at risk of releasing their neurotic fear that they are impotent in the world.

That’s a small portion that I’m working on now. You’ll see, in the end, how this all connects to every war, every act of genocide, and every act of evil in the world. Why it happened and why it continues to happen—again, this is the energy of the book, to help people become conscious of this predicament.