Deathism
In “Fable of the Dragon-Tyrant,” the kingdom builds consolation around the dragon’s yearly tribute and treats people who propose killing it as naive.
Deathism is a term from transhumanist discourse naming the ideology that treats death as good, necessary, or the source of life’s meaning. It describes a disposition rather than an argument, and the disposition is familiar: death gives shape to existence, the natural lifespan should not be exceeded, indefinite life would be tedious or unjust, and wanting to live is a failure of acceptance.
Aubrey de Grey calls the condition a pro-aging trance, and Nick Bostrom’s “Fable of the Dragon-Tyrant” (2005) illustrates its mechanism. A kingdom pays the dragon ten thousand lives a year, builds an elaborate culture of consolation around the tribute, and treats anyone proposing to kill the dragon as naive. The fable’s point is psychological. Humans faced with an apparently fixed horror will rationalize it, and the rationalization survives long after the horror becomes negotiable.
An Enemy, Called by Name
Paul calls death “the last enemy” to be destroyed rather than a source of meaning.
Scripture declines the consolation. Paul names death “the last enemy that shall be destroyed” (1 Corinthians 15:26) and taunts it rather than honoring it. Jacob calls it “that awful monster, death and hell” (2 Nephi 9:10, 19). Latter-day revelation describes a coming age in which infants do not die and death gives way to transformation in the twinkling of an eye (D&C 101:29-31; 63:51). No passage in the canon praises death as a teacher.
Mormon scripture goes further by rewarding the refusal. Enoch and his city are translated. Moses and Elijah depart without dying. John is granted his desire to tarry (D&C 7:1-3). Three Nephite disciples, asked what they want, are ashamed to say it aloud, and what they want is not to taste death—a request Jesus grants, telling them they are more blessed for having desired it (3 Nephi 28:1-9). The desire to keep living is treated in that episode as a higher desire, not a lesser one.
Scripture presents death as a mercy when it comes as release from suffering, not as something good in itself.
None of this denies that death can be merciful. Scripture calls rest sweet to those who die in the Lord (D&C 42:46), blesses the dead who rest from their labors (Revelation 14:13), and describes the righteous dead received into a state of rest (Alma 40:12). Where suffering admits no other relief, death arrives as release, and Latter-day Saints have long offered that comfort at gravesides honestly rather than as pretense.
That mercy is relative rather than inherent. To the extent death is needed to escape conditions scripture itself calls hell, it is a relative good, which does not make it a good in itself. The same canon reports that the dead regarded the long absence of their spirits from their bodies as a bondage (D&C 138:50), a strange thing to say about a destination and a fitting thing to say about a waiting room. Deathism erases the difference between death as a mercy of last resort and death as a good in its own nature, and scripture extends only the first.
A Trance With a Half-Life
Deathism has historically retreated where remedy arrived. Anesthesia was opposed as evasion of the curse pronounced in Eden, and the objection vanished once the relief became ordinary. Vaccination, transplantation, and intensive care followed the same pattern. Aging research now appears to be on that path: senolytics, partial epigenetic reprogramming, and metabolic interventions have extended healthy lifespan in mammals, and nothing yet discovered marks aging as a law rather than an accumulation of repairable damage.
If those interventions mature, present objections about cost will fade as they have for every therapy that scaled. What could persist is exclusion maintained by concentrated power rather than by patents, which expire, or by manufacturing cost, which falls. Deathism would then survive mainly as the argument offered to people denied access, which is the form the dragon’s priesthood has always taken.
The territory in which death functions as mercy has already narrowed. Anesthesia, antibiotics, and palliative care have taken over work that death once did alone, and that territory will keep shrinking as more suffering becomes treatable rather than merely endurable. The narrowing is the measure of progress. Treating the mercy as permanent, rather than as a remedy still awaiting a better one, mistakes the condition of the patient for the nature of the world.
Thriving, Not Merely Not Dying
The opposite error deserves naming. Making survival the whole of the project yields its own impoverishment, since not dying is a precondition of thriving rather than a substitute for it. Mormon theology asks for immortality and eternal life together, and the second term carries the content: compassion, creation, relation, joy. Nothing in that hope requires a world without change, loss, or risk, which would be no world at all.
Prophecy read as forthtelling makes the resurrection an assignment instead of a consolation. Deathism turns it back into consolation, which is how a promise becomes an excuse. Revelation is unsparing about that posture, condemning those who must be commanded in all things and do nothing until they are (D&C 58:26-27). Death is the enemy, still being defeated rather than already defeated, and working against it is what trust in the promise looks like.
See also: Afterlife, Cryonics, Dead/Death, Eternal/Eternity, Immortality, Longevity, Old Age, Resurrection