I don’t want to live forever, but society keeps telling me I should

Theodore Powys once wrote “the longest life may fade and perish, but one moment can live and become immortal”.

While I’m on the fence about whether any of my life’s moments will become immortal, what I do know is that I am not going to live forever. And despite society trying to convince me otherwise, I simply don’t want to.

Society has become obsessed with ageing or, rather, anti-ageing.Credit: Getty

For a solid chunk of my nearly 39 years of life, society has been absolutely obsessed with ageing, or rather, anti-ageing. While there are myriad views expressed on the topic, the most dominant opinion seems to be that the older you live, the better. Also paramount to this is to hide any signs of the process to create the illusion that you’ve discovered the key to defying death.

These values equate – especially for women – to the inherently ageist expectation that we utilise all tools and products at our disposal to appear youthful, or at least younger than our actual age until the day we die.

In Australia alone, the anti-ageing market is set to grow in worth from $7 million in 2022 to $27 million in 2030 thanks to age-defying skincare, beauty products, cosmetic procedures and treatments.

Along with these products is a promise – or as close to a promise as legally allowable – that in applying the right serum and moisturiser, you can beat the inevitable occurrence of looking your age, as this is the worst thing humanly possible.

But don’t be fooled by this preoccupation with looking youthful. Paradoxically, society also celebrates us getting old. If you manage to make it to 100, you can expect a letter from the King of England congratulating you. We have Guinness World Records categories dedicated to people being the oldest to complete something and a plethora of research into which cultures live the longest (known as blue zones).

This contradictory obsession floods other areas of our lives too: the health market with its anti-ageing diets, foods and meal plans that aim to reduce your biological age while extending your chronological age. An endless stream of new research that somewhat alarmingly warns the life-threatening ramifications of everyday actions (frequent nose picking increases the risk of Alzheimer’s, sitting at a desk boosts your risk of early death).

The issue with this, and where my contention lies, is that among the diets, products and habits to change, we lose all satisfaction of living and enjoying the time that we do have.

In the case of my grandfather, longevity wasn’t synonymous with quality of life. Though he wasn’t a centenarian, he came close, making it to 91. Even for an Australian male born today, that’s still approximately ten years more than the average life expectancy.

But for most of his last decade, to put it bluntly, he didn’t want to be here. Suffering from Alzheimer’s, the once-active, independent and social man lost the quality of life he once had and became a recluse who, more than once, disclosed his frustration and unhappiness about the fact that he was “still kicking” and didn’t want to be.

He didn’t say this to be melodramatic or ungrateful. He said it because although his heart kept ticking, not much else did. For him, this was a fate far worse than death.

Dr Ezekiel Emanuel, acclaimed biochemist and oncologist, shared a similar view in his 2014 article for The Atlantic, entitled ‘Why I hope to die at 75’.

In the piece, Emanuel discussed his perspective (which was founded on research), that most people will live their most meaningful years before the age of 75.

“There is a simple truth that many of us seem to resist: living too long is also a loss. It renders many of us, if not disabled, then faltering and declining, a state that may not be worse than death but is nonetheless deprived. It robs us of our creativity and ability to contribute to work, society, the world. It transforms how people experience us, relate to us, and, most important, remember us. We are no longer remembered as vibrant and engaged but as feeble, ineffectual, even pathetic,” he wrote.

Like Emanuel and my grandpa, I’m not ungrateful or insane for not wanting to live forever. I love my life and cherish it because, at this stage of it, I am healthy, engaged, productive, hopeful and happy. But I know that I won’t always be fortunate enough to be in this position. And whenever that time comes, at whatever age that may be, as unpretty or uncomfortable as it may be to hear, if I had the choice, I’d pick quality of life over an anti-ageing peel or biohacking experience every time.

Shona Hendley is a freelance writer.

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