logo

50 pages 1 hour read

Caitlin Doughty

From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death

Caitlin DoughtyNonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 2018

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Themes

The Western Sanitization of Death

Content Warning: This section discusses death, funeral practices, and postmortem bodily phenomena.

The Western sanitization of death is the key cultural trend that Doughty wants her book to address and remedy. This is an outlook toward death that is prevalent in industrialized, capitalist countries with European influence, often via colonization. Doughty says that for the last couple centuries, these Western countries have undergone a series of changes to their death industries that have corporatized death and created distance between the living and their dead. She sees this as harmful and wants people to feel “held” in their grief rather than distanced.

Doughty sees two negative aspects to the Western ideas of death, and these are often interrelated: One is the actions of the funeral industry, and the other is the negative views of death and dead bodies. Doughty says that the funeral industry is full of “purposeful obfuscations.” People do not know “what chemicals are pumped into their mother during an embalming procedure” or “the state of their mother’s body […] years after her death” (13, 76). This distance between the living and the dead makes the physicality of death a mystery. Often, mourners ask Doughty questions about these things, showing her that people might subliminally want to close this gap. She thinks that practices like those in Tana Toraja, where people care for the mummies of their loved ones, might be “less frightening than the specters of the human imagination” (76). However, since people in Western society are kept at a distance from death by the funeral imagery, they get no closure or understanding about death.

Additionally, Doughty argues that the American funeral industry is a “profit-oriented” and “commercial” system that exploits people’s belief that dead bodies are “unhygienic” (25). The industrial cremation industry was initially born in Europe and America because of this belief. The leaders of this innovation in the late 19th century posited the idea that this style of burial was “modern” and “scientific”—and therefore objectively better than the “mass of corruption” that occurred when bodies were buried naturally (26). This view, inflected with value judgments about burial practices, continues to affect Western people, who think that their own funerary practices are “right while all these ‘other people’ are disrespectful and barbarous” (14). The sanitization of death has convinced American audiences of this, and the funeral industry and their “funeral boards” in local governments are enabled to exploit this belief for “money and profit” (38).

According to Doughty, this drive toward the sanitization of death is belief based rather than literal. While the funeral industry claims that they are literally sanitizing the death process, Doughty emphasizes that there is nothing inherently dirty about the dead body. She recounts the story of Agus, a Torajan man who slept in the same bed as his grandfather’s mummified corpse for seven years. While Agus, his family, and his community felt that this was perfectly normal, Doughty compares it to a similar story in Western pop culture: Norman Bates in Psycho. Bates also “preserved the corpse of his mother,” “lived with his mother’s body for many years,” and “had conversations with his mother’s body as if she were alive” (70-71). Yet Bates is a classic movie villain, and Western audiences “feel there is something profoundly creepy about interacting with the dead over a long period of time” (71). This is not due to any objective trait of death or corpses but because of ingrained cultural beliefs about death in society. Torajans do these things with their dead as well, but their society conceptualizes death in a different way and integrates death rituals into daily life.

Doughty believes that Western audiences are fully capable of changing their views toward death. She hopes that this will happen so that the industry will change as well.

Cultural Diversity in Death Practices

Doughty discusses a large variety of cultural practices and outlooks toward death. This diversity shows how acknowledgement and acceptance of death can be interwoven into daily life without stigma, how technology can be used to facilitate this, and how people can begin to redefine death entirely.

In many cases, cultural diversity in death practices overlaps with the ethics and aesthetics of funeral practice: The Western sanitization of death might transgress ethically by disallowing a diverse death practice, or a diverse death practice might seem aesthetically unpleasing to Western audiences. For instance, Hindu families in India use open-air cremation; they use a wooden staff “to crack open the dead man’s skull” (37), believing that this releases his soul and puts him at rest. If the soul is trapped in an indoor facility, they see it as “akal mryta, a bad death” (37), and believe that the deceased cannot rest. The matter of Western facilities disallowing open-air pyres for Hindu families in the United States thus becomes an ethical quandary. Doughty observes that the Torajan practice of preserving a corpse, dressing them up, caring for them, and speaking to them has some aesthetic (but not cultural) commonalities with the story of Norman Bates in the film Psycho. Pop culture, like this film and its framing, has taught Western audiences to view these actions as “profoundly creepy” (71), which might thus affect how they perceive similar actions among the Torajan people, even though their deathcare practice is one of compassion.

Doughty’s many examples of diverse death practices show how death can become more culturally present. For instance, the whole community gathers for pyre cremations in Crestone, Torajan people annually care for their mummies, Mexican people celebrate the dead in Día de los Muertos, Katrina Spade in North Carolina practices human composting, high-tech Spanish crematoriums have a 60% attendance rate, Japanese facilities like Ruriden and Lastel use technology to create space for families to be in physical proximity with the deceased or their remains, the Aymara in Bolivia keep ñatitas, and Joshua Tree National Park in California allows hands-on, natural burials. This diversity in death practices shows the many ways that people can feel “held” in their grief, whether the practice is ancient and traditional or uses new technologies.

This closeness allows people in these places to begin to define death differently. Torajan people see the state between death (as defined by the West) and the sacrifice that begins their funerary practice as a “high fever,” not the absence of life. Even some Westerners like Katrina see the potential of death differently from most Americans: She and Doughty both believe that there is “no reason to zap away your organic material […] when there is good to be done with ‘the leavings’ of your mortal form” (133). In this view, death is not necessarily the end of someone’s life, as their corpse gives back to the earth that nourished all the plants and animals they ate over their lifetimes, creating a cycle of life that is not possible under the framework of The Western Sanitization of Death. Doughty hopes that these diverse outlooks and practices serve as inspiration for how Western countries can move past the sanitization of death.

Ethical Engagement With Diverse Death Practices

As Doughty examines Cultural Diversity in Death Practices as a potential remedy to The Western Sanitization of Death, she is keenly aware of the ethical issues of examining culturally diverse funerary practices. While these other death practices might be able to set positive models of death for the United States and other Westernized nations, Doughty is aware of the ethical repercussions of turning the aesthetics of these diverse death practices into an exploitative tourist spectacle.

In the book’s Introduction, Doughty asks readers to engage in the ethical practice of examining their own biases about funeral practices. She urges people not to adopt a “disrespectful attitude” or assume that what they instinctively consider “disrespectful and barbarous” or a “ghoulish spectacle” is an objectively bad or incorrect death practice (14). She argues that people’s emotional reactions to the aesthetics of a given “spectacle” are culturally taught—they are not objective truth. Thus, she immediately primes her reader to consider the ethics of their reading practice.

Doughty then introduces the ethics of thanotourism, or death tourism. This form of tourism overlaps with “dark tourism,” where tourists visit sites commonly associated with death, dying, and tragedy. While there is nothing inherently wrong with this, some tourists do not approach this cultural diversity in death practices with respect; rather, they see it as entertainment. These types of tourists “find enjoyment in confrontations with something frightening” and “don’t attempt to engage with the site as intended,” consuming death as a commodity (Knispel, Sandra. “The Ethics of Dark Tourism.” The University of Rochester, 19 Jan. 2023). Doughty observes this behavior in a German woman visiting Toraja. As the local people unveil their dead loved ones, she does not respect the boundaries set by the Torajans for tourists; instead, she gets into the middle of the parade, “taking photographs with her iPad thrust into local children’s faces” (51). This disrespectful approach to diverse death practices reduces other cultures to an entertaining aesthetic.

Even Doughty, who is generally respectful of diverse death practices, questions her own ethics, fearing that she “ha[s] become that [German] woman” (67). Doughty does not answer the question of whether she has, in fact, “become that woman,” nor does she urge her reader to, as it is not the role of “outsiders” to determine where they are or are not welcome. However, this practice of open-ended self-questioning models ethical engagement for Westerners engaging in thanotourism.

Doughty tells an anecdote about how her ethical convictions prevented her from traveling somewhere. In Tibet, the people practice sky burial, which is what Doughty wants for her own remains. She says that it was “the one place [she] wanted to go on [her] travels, but could not bring [her]self to do it” (227). Partially because of their sky burial ritual, which Western thanotourists see as aesthetically “visceral” and “bloody,” the government “banned sightseeing, photography, and video recording at the sky burial sites” (225). Still, tourists go anyway, filming parts of the ritual that not even family members get to see. Doughty’s decision not to go to Tibet is her way of engaging ethically with the wishes of local people regarding their funerary practices. By relating this story in her book, her readers will learn about these ethical conundrums through her anecdotes and potentially alter their approach to consuming the aesthetics of diverse death practices.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
Unlock IconUnlock all 50 pages of this Study Guide

Plus, gain access to 8,800+ more expert-written Study Guides.

Including features:

+ Mobile App
+ Printable PDF
+ Literary AI Tools