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NDEs and existential angst

Reading | Existentialism

Arthur Haswell, BA | 2025-07-18

Silhouette,With,Light,Rims,Walking,Into,Darkness.

What can the experiences of those who returned from NDEs tell us about justice, morality, meaning, and existential angst? Arthur Haswell invites us to contemplate these questions without metaphysical prejudice.

It is an odd fact about existentialism that, despite being so deeply concerned with mortality, it rarely, if ever, considers accounts regarding what it is actually like to die. There are some famous exceptions in existentialist cinema, such as Gaspar Noe’s intoxicating Enter the Void (2009) or Pete Docter’s disarmingly beautiful Soul (2020). Yet, in the philosophical discourse, the notion of consulting people who have died has seemingly never entered the picture. One might scoff at the apparent absurdity of suggesting that people who have died could be consulted. Nonetheless, if someone has no circulation, heartbeat, or breathing, they are dead, even if they are subsequently resuscitated from this state. Brain activity typically ceases within about half a minute after circulation stops, yet people have been brought to life after up to six hours of cardiac arrest (Jones). The cardiologist Mike Sabom has even gone as far as to suggest that we should rename near death experiences (NDEs) “actual death experiences” (Parnia 58).

But how do we know these experiences occur during death states? Alongside the remarkably universal reports of encountering an impossibly bright light, meeting deceased loved ones, and coming into contact with the divine, some experiencers also describe out-of-body experiences (OBEs), in which they appear to leave their physical bodies to roam and observe the world without it. The Self Does Not Die (Rivas and Smit) is a collection of hundreds of cases where experiencers have veridically reported events that took place while medical professionals, relying on various monitoring devices and old-fashioned clinical observation, had determined that their patients were clinically dead.

Some might assume that the medical equipment malfunctioned or that doctors made mistakes. However, this does not account for the accurate reports of incidents that the patients could not possibly have known about from within the confines of their hospital rooms, even if they had been physically awake—which, of course, they were very far from. Sometimes, they even report highly specific occurrences hundreds of miles away. Others may claim these stories are hoaxes. But many of these reports have been confirmed not only by the patients and their families or friends, but also by the medical professionals who attended them. Of course, one could still choose to reject these accounts outright, perhaps because they do not accord with one’s metaphysical prejudices. But this article is not intended to dispel such dogmatism; instead, it is written for those who are already comfortable with engaging with more substance-neutral psychology.

Here I want to consider the existential sentiments that might be fitting, given the reports from people who’ve died or nearly died and remember these states. These reports often describe such states as being blissful and having an extraordinary “realer than real” clarity to them. There are very rare reports of extremely isolated or unpleasant experiences, but such states are usually viewed as being temporary. The overwhelming majority of experiences are ones of unearthly peace and joy. A common element of such experiences is that the experiencer does not wish to return to life, but is ushered back into it by some kind of divine being.

Following such experiences, people often lose all fear of death, as they expect it to be the continuation of consciousness in another realm. This expectation is common in all NDErs, but those whose experiences score highest on the Greyson scale (a way of categorising NDEs by their depth and extensiveness) have never been found to believe that an afterlife does not exist (Amberts 121). This outlook can make people considerably happier and more carefree, with a stronger focus on relationships and appreciating the moment, as well as a weaker focus on money and material things. This doesn’t mean that they become ascetic; in fact, they can often make rash decisions like buying a sports car and then returning it shortly after, because they have a strong impulse to “seize the day” (Greyson 280-281). But they are no longer so hung up on material things. This can often create tensions with their loved ones, as they can seem careless regarding mundane affairs that others are understandably concerned about, such as furniture breaking or pecuniary matters. In fact, it seems reasonable to suggest that such tensions may be what leads to a higher than average divorce rate among experiencers (Greyson 299).

Some also become depressed and wish that they had not returned. This can even be the case in very young children, such as a little boy who desperately wanted to enter the family swimming pool so that he could go back to the joy he experienced when he drowned in it just the day before (Rivas and Smit 205). Given how common it is for NDErs to report wishing to remain in the bliss of death, it hardly seems surprising that some regret their return and lament the struggle of living. It’s true that the greater portion feel better able to treasure life, but for those of us who haven’t had an NDE, it’s difficult to understand this sentiment.

Surely, if continuation typically takes us into a realm so much more blissful and joyous than this one, then we should naturally be eager to enter it. However, suicide may not be a prudent option for those of us wishing to fast-track to new beginnings. Sam Parnia has found that unpleasant experiences, while very rare, primarily affect people who have purposely brought themselves into the death state, and some of these experiences are extremely miserable (Parnia 204-206). Although experiencers typically have the conviction that these hellish states will not last forever, and that at some point they will unite with the divine, unless one is terminally ill and in extreme discomfort, it seems wise to avoid such horrors by simply waiting for the inevitable to happen. After all, no other actions seem to influence the experiences following our lives; even members of violent crime syndicates have reported wonderful NDEs. Perhaps, then, morality has little role in these matters. It also doesn’t seem to be based on one’s prior mental state, given that many very pleasant NDEs are reported by people whose last moments were filled with terror and pain.

Additionally, as previously mentioned, most experiencers return with a new zest for life, and are very unlikely to commit suicide, even if their experience was extremely wonderful. Although this might be quite difficult for us to comprehend, it would no doubt be sensible to heed the sentiments of people who have actually died before opting to do so ourselves.

In truth, we simply have very little idea what is going on. Although rare unpleasant NDEs may primarily affect those who have actioned their own demise, there are also plenty who have done so and yet been very rapidly thrust into the blissful and joyous realms that are so commonly reported in NDEs. There are also a very small number of (at least allegedly) morally upstanding citizens who have not brought themselves to the death state of their own volition, but have had terrible experiences. As you can likely see, trying to make sense of NDEs is rather like the parable of the blind men and the elephant, where a group of blind men try to work out what an elephant is by each touching only a single area. Naturally, the fellow near her trunk thinks an elephant is like a snake. For the man touching her ear, an elephant is rather like a fan. The man who has wrapped his arms around one of her legs thinks an elephant is like a tree trunk. And the man who strokes her side thinks an elephant is like a wall.

Yet, we cannot but be influenced by reading NDE reports. For many of us, they are deeply comforting, as they provide evidence that those we have lost may now be in a better place, and that each of us might have such a world to look forward to. But the more I have thought about NDEs, the more I have felt a certain disquiet about what they might tell us about life. If we cannot comprehend a moral dynamic to them, if murderers can have wonderfully blissful NDEs while people who have taken their own lives can have hellish ones, what does this say, if anything, about how we should think about fairness? Does it suggest that there is little hope of the divine justice inherent in Abrahamic or karmic belief systems; a justice that imparts a sense of security with its rootedness in a cosmic order? Of course, only the psychopath would begin treating life like Grand Theft Auto once they have become convinced that bliss awaits them no matter what they do, because the pain caused by cruelty and violence remains as real and incalculable as ever. And indeed, people tend to become far more compassionate following an NDE, with one NDEr even leaving his career in organised crime to become involved in helping victims of spousal abuse (Greyson 275-276). But for many of us, some kind of divinely ordained post-life justice is a comforting thought, because it only seems fair that people who have caused a lot of suffering should be punished for this, especially when earthly justice systems fail to serve. Perhaps, though, this is the result of an ignorant and unenlightened perspective.

A deeper, more troubling note of unease arises from the recognition that this world falls far short of the beauty, joyousness, and love of the next. The wonder and peace of the afterlife is so great that even NDErs with young children often feel perfectly content about abandoning them in this world to await them in the next. Of course, as I have already made clear, upon returning most NDErs become far more appreciative of this life. But, nonetheless, it is nearly always the case that this life seems greatly inferior to the next. Much like in gnostic thought, in comparison to the latter this world can seem like a deception, an illusion filled with suffering and strife, merely a poor imitation of the transcendent reality beyond.

My question, then, regards how we accommodate such a truth; how do we live with the thought that our current existence amounts to a mere shuffling through a fallen realm? I can understand the idea that, if death is oblivion, then we must embrace the brief moment of consciousness that we are allotted, so that in this sense death gives life meaning, or at least it creates the pressure to find or generate meaning while we still can. I can also understand the idea that if we can only enter heaven through our good works, then this fills our life with purpose (even if it might be considered a rather selfish purpose). But the realities we can glean from NDE reports seem to afford us neither the former nor the latter grace. Of course, they don’t imply that our lives are meaningless, or that we can no longer create meaning for ourselves and others. But it does seem to both justify gnostic convictions about this world as flawed and distant from the divine, and imply that even if we are—in the parlance of our times—“living our best lives,” this isn’t really saying very much. The NDErs who now feel more compassionate and appreciative of life would no doubt suggest that I’m looking at all of this the wrong way. But without having an NDE myself, I cannot begin to grasp the correct perspective. This leaves me with the unsettling existential thought that my current faculties offer no way to find the right track.

Is there a better approach? No doubt you’ve noticed that I ask many questions but offer few answers. And indeed, I find myself in poverty when it comes to the latter. But perhaps there is one, if tentative, conclusion that I would suggest, which is that NDE reports should teach us to feel deep humility. And if this fills us with uncertainty, then we should heed Nietzsche’s sentiments and try to embrace this. Aside from these platitudes, I have nothing else to offer; my hope is that sharper minds than my own will be able to find interesting answers to the kinds of questions I have merely drawn attention to.

 

Bibliography

Amberts, Jens. Why an Afterlife Obviously Exists: A Thought Experiment and Realer Than Real Near-Death Experiences. John Hunt Publishing Limited, 2022.

Greyson, Bruce. After: A Doctor Explores What Near-Death Experiences Reveal about Life and Beyond. Penguin Random House, 2022.

Jones, Sam. “Doctors in Spain revive British woman after six-hour cardiac arrest.” The Guardian, 5 December 2019, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/dec/05/doctors-in-spain-revive-british-woman-after-six-hour-cardiac-arrest?utm_source=chatgpt.com. Accessed 25 April 2025.

Parnia, Sam. Lucid Dying: The New Science Revolutionizing How We Understand Life and Death. Hachette Books, 2024.

Rivas, Titus Petrus Maria, and Rudolph H. Smit. The Self Does Not Die: Verified Paranormal Phenomena from Near-death Experiences. Edited by Janice Miner Holden, translated by Wanda Boeke, IANDS Publications, 2023.

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