In this blog post, we will examine whether endless time would be a happy blessing or an unhappy curse for humanity from philosophical and social perspectives.
Eternal life has long been a human aspiration. Myths of immortality found throughout the world and religions that promise an afterlife demonstrate that this desire has been a universal hope for humanity. Humans have not merely dreamed of immortality; they have also developed various medical technologies based on reason to delay death. Recently, advances in science and technology have yielded tangible results in efforts to further extend lifespan, and human life expectancy has been steadily increasing. According to the latest life tables from Statistics Korea, the life expectancy of South Koreans has increased significantly compared to the past. Furthermore, in fields such as stem cell research, anti-aging technologies, and regenerative medicine, various studies are actively underway that go beyond mere life extension to overcome aging itself. Perhaps it is now time to seriously consider what kind of meaning a life that has overcome the fundamental limitation of death would hold for humanity. Intuitively, a life without death seems likely to bring happiness. However, upon deeper reflection, it becomes clear that the long-desired eternal life and human happiness are difficult to reconcile. If the opportunity for eternal life is not granted to everyone, social unhappiness will ensue; even if it were granted to all, unhappiness on a personal and philosophical level would become even more pronounced.
First, it is highly unlikely that the opportunity to attain eternal life through medical technology or other means will be equally available to all of humanity. Even today, there are significant disparities in life expectancy and access to healthcare depending on the country and region. These disparities stem not only from differences in living conditions but also from gaps in healthcare systems and economic circumstances. If medical technology were to make it possible to extend human life virtually indefinitely, it is highly likely that new barriers based on these existing disparities would emerge. Although inequality has always existed in human society, the emergence of people who live on indefinitely would inflict a tremendous sense of deprivation on those for whom death is inevitable. If even the belief that death, at least, comes equally to everyone were to crumble, the happiness of the small minority who attain eternal life could never outweigh the discontent of the vast majority of humanity who do not.
It is even questionable whether those who attain eternal life would actually be happy. Even if new treatments can infinitely extend life and youth, they cannot bring back those who have already died. People with the potential to live forever will be unwilling to take even the slightest risk, and the pain of losing a spouse, children, or friends will become even more unbearable. Ultimately, eternal life—which cannot be enjoyed by everyone who desires it—is more likely to bring discontent, anxiety, and unhappiness to humanity than to bring happiness.
So what if a brilliant scientist developed a revolutionary technology that allowed anyone who desired eternal life to maintain their youth indefinitely? If we could avoid the jealousy directed at those who do not die, it seems that many of the problems arising from the process of overcoming death would be resolved. The sight of all humanity living an endless life, freely doing the things they could no longer do due to a lack of time or the aging of their bodies, might just be the closest thing to the heaven we have long imagined.
But would they truly be able to enjoy genuine happiness? In fact, almost no one can perfectly define what happiness is, and the criteria for happiness also differ from person to person. However, many people would agree that love is one of the key elements that make up happiness. Singer Kim Kwang-seok, who sang about love his entire life, had this to say about it:
“The important thing is that there is no such thing as love without pain. Just as there is no life without pain, pain makes us love even more. We might insist that painful love isn’t true love, but in reality, it’s probably something we want to deny precisely because we loved so deeply.”
The poignancy of love stems from pain. The movie ‘Titanic’, which depicts an impossible love, touched the hearts of countless audiences worldwide. The love between an aristocratic woman and a commoner—a love that grew more desperate the closer it came to an end—left an even deeper resonance because of the tragic fate they faced in the middle of the vast ocean. The scene where Jack holds Rose’s hand as he faces his final moments in the cold sea still leaves a deep impression on many people today. Why does unrequited love feel all the more poignant? It is because of the finitude of love. Because there is a limit—death—beyond which they can no longer love, their love became even deeper and more intense. It was precisely because it was a once-in-a-lifetime encounter and existence, never to be repeated, that such a heart-wrenching love was possible. For those who live eternal lives, it would be difficult to experience a love that stirs the soul as deeply as a fleeting connection during the one and only youth they have. It is precisely because humans are mortal that we can live our lives loving more deeply.
Happiness cannot be explained by love alone. Finitude is also the foundation for the far greater variety of happiness that humans experience. The German philosopher Martin Heidegger believed that the experience of becoming aware of death as a form of anxiety about the future leads humans to a more fulfilling life. Let’s suppose that tomorrow is the last day of my life. Would today feel the same as any other day? Could we view the crimson sunset and the sun slowly sinking beyond the horizon as merely an ordinary scene? Conversely, if we were granted an endless life and lived without any constraints, would we be able to feel this sense of life’s urgency? That would be merely a state of being alive; it would be difficult to call it a life of true existence.
Happiness stems from the process of giving meaning to one’s own finite life and realizing that meaning. Reflection on death plays a crucial role in choosing the life one truly desires, rather than the life others expect. Only when we become aware that life will end someday can we gain the courage to pursue the things we absolutely want to do before we die. One can become an authentic being who lives one’s own life, rather than the inauthentic being described by Heidegger. Ultimately, death becomes a crucial catalyst for discovering the meaning of life.
Some may raise objections to this view. They argue that even today, many people living finite lives experience boredom and a sense of powerlessness amid the repetitive routine of daily life, and that this is not necessarily a problem caused by the belief in eternal life. However, the sense of powerlessness felt by modern people also stems, in part, from a failure to fully recognize the finitude of life. To experience death as a source of anxiety about the future, one must first accept the fact that one’s life is finite and realize that one is wasting time that will never return. Yet many people live day by day as if they had infinite time, forgetting that they, too, are beings destined to die. This attitude toward life ultimately becomes a seed of unhappiness. This is why Heidegger emphasized the awareness of death. In an eternal life where the very concept of death fades, it may actually become even more difficult to find the courage to pursue one’s authentic value.
Another counterargument is also possible. It is the claim that happiness can be attained even within eternal life through a peaceful existence that transcends desire and suffering—such as the value of liberation in Buddhism or the ataraxia of Western philosophy. Through the enlightenment gained over many years and ceaseless spiritual practice, humans may reach a realm previously unattainable. If this kind of happiness is possible, it might even be possible to overcome the various conflicts that eternal life would inevitably bring.
However, let us return to the original question. Does eternal life truly make humans happy? Humans are imperfect beings with desires and afflictions. For example, Siddhartha, who attained enlightenment in Buddhism, is understood not as an ordinary human being but as the Buddha. Of course, the goal of Buddhist practice is to attain such enlightenment, but it is difficult to assert that this alone makes humanity itself happy. This is because the happiness enjoyed in the realm of the divine is not the same concept as the happiness humans experience in their daily lives. Ultimately, human happiness must be understood within the limitations and conditions of human existence.
Furthermore, if the method of making humans immortal involves continuously replacing aging or damaged bodies using medical technology, another problem arises. In modern aesthetics, there is a concept known as “aura.” This term derives from the Greek word for “breath” and became widely known when the German philosopher Walter Benjamin used it to mean “an inimitable, unique atmosphere.” Simply put, it refers to the unique presence possessed only by the original work of art—in other words, a special value that cannot be replaced by a reproduction.
For example, the emotion one feels when standing face-to-face with Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’ at the Louvre Museum in France—after having only seen it in photographs—is entirely different from that evoked by a reproduced image. This is precisely the aura possessed only by the original work. This concept also has implications for technologies that extend human life. For instance, the happiness a mother feels when holding her son in her arms stems from the unique recognition that this is the very being she gave birth to and raised. Of course, the grief of losing a loved one is incomparably profound, and life-extending technology may be a happier choice for the individual. However, from the perspective of society as a whole, if such practices continue for a long time, there is a possibility that the unique sense of presence—the “aura”—that every human being possesses will gradually fade.
Affection and bonds between people are formed on the basis of an unconscious recognition of a person’s body, time, and the memories of a life lived together. In this regard, the continuous replacement of the human body with technology could raise issues similar to those caused by the endless reproduction of works of art. In fact, Benjamin also pointed out that the advent of reproduction technologies, such as photography, has made the infinite reproduction of works of art possible, and that in the process, the aura unique to the original work is being weakened. Similarly, humans, too, may gradually lose the unique sense of presence they once felt in their own transformations and in the lives of others.
