Bad Grief

It shouldn’t be necessary to do this, but I feel the time has come when somebody needs to say something against grief and grieving. Lately these topics have been getting a very positive consideration in the relevant journals. The word has gone out far and wide from highly qualified experts that, at least in certain circumstances, it is O.K. to be acutely unhappy for extended periods of time. Assuming you have something legitimate to be grief-stricken about, we are told, it is a good and healthful kind of behavior, a sort of “work” you have to do, an important part of your recovery from losing whomever or whatever it is you have lost.

I say it just ain’t so. What I observe when I see people going through grief, mourning, or whatever else you want to call it, is people wasting time. I know whereof I speak, because I myself have already been through it a couple of times in my life – once when my father died, then years later when it was my mother’s turn – and once (more severely, and for a longer time) when a four-year relationship ended. Nobody can tell me that all that weeping and depression, that dwelling upon the loss, those feelings of anger and guilt and regret, which often made it impossible to concentrate upon anything else, were truly necessary or beneficial. If you add up all the person-hours lost by everybody thus afflicted, the cost to society in terms of productivity must be truly staggering.

What I say is that grief is itself a sickness, and that instead of teaching people to expect and accept it, we ought to be developing ways to get rid of it, just as we have conquered other crippling diseases. As things currently stand, I can only speculate as to what that might entail. As far as treatment is concerned, since it all happens in the brain, drugs, hypnosis, anesthesia, and even brain surgery will probably play a part – as no doubt they already do in extreme cases. But I also favor what might be called “manipulation of the environment.” The grieving person should, if possible, be immediately removed from his or her customary surroundings and placed in some completely different situation where there are no unfortunate reminders of the past, but plenty of new challenges and stimulating surroundings – for example, some kind of “grief camp” where the emphasis is on constant new physical and mental activity.

Ultimately, however, we must think in terms, not of treatment, but of prevention. Obviously we have a long way to go in a society which still leaves most of us so unprepared for so many of the most common types of losses. What we really need is some kind of “vaccine” against grief. This could take many forms, but the key must lie in detoxifying the concept of “loss” itself. Already technology seems to be pointing us in the right direction. If you could ask people 200 years ago what the death of a loved one would mean, you might get an answer like “I will never hear his voice again,” or “I will never see her face again.” The modern development of sound and video recording has changed all that. It is now theoretically possible to record every moment of a person’s life, and after they die you could spend the rest of your own life playing it all back. Like just about everything else, death, even though it may still be hanging around, is not what it used to be.

That may be one reason why extensive and expensive formal mourning is no longer as fashionable as it once was (which has no doubt been a cause of great mourning in the undertaking industry). Of course, we are not yet ready to altogether stop being sorry when people, pets, or love affairs die. But we are increasingly unsure just what it is that we are sorry about. In a way, I suppose that can make the situation even more distressing. With all sorts of medical miracles here and on the horizon, death too is perhaps just another of the old certainties which we may have to let go of.

So if you must grieve, go ahead – I can’t stop you, and I probably won’t be able to stop myself if and when the next occasion arises. But while we’re grieving, let’s spare a few tears for poor old Grief itself. I’m sure its days are numbered.