Age is the Money Shot in an Obit

Age is the money shot in an obit. Followed by cause of death as a close second.

My father, Carl G. Hempel, was a professor of philosophy of science (his specialty was scientific proof), and among non-specialists in the field he is especially known for the Raven Paradox. (Google it and you will find millions of hits.) The underlying question was, what kind of evidence would help prove a hypothesis? In the case of his example, what kind of evidence will help support the thesis that “All Ravens are black”? Obviously, seeing black ravens anywhere will support the thesis; seeing even a single white (or purple, or green) raven will disprove it. But what about seeing non-black, non-ravens? For example, a brown cow, or a little green man from Mars? I know some of you have left the lecture hall by now, and I myself get lost trying to wrap my head around this, but among philosophers the debate rages on.

My point, however, is much more limited: Man is an information-gathering species. We are constantly looking out for evidence that will support (hopefully) our pet ideas. (Can you say “Confirmation bias,” boys and girls?) In any case, as we grow older, this rummaging for evidence begins to focus more and more on questions of mortality and death. It is hardly news that the most avid devotees of obituary columns are those for whom the subject feels most relevant.

Thus, age: the obituary money shot. The first thing we want to know is, “How old were they?” If they were older than us, it offers hope that we have at least that many years ahead of us. And if they fell before our time, well, it suggests, does it not, that we are at least somewhat favored in the long game of life? Similarly, we find cause of death relevant evidence to factor in: is it a cause or condition that might afflict us (Oh noooo), or are our genes and lifestyle made of sterner stuff?

Of course, as investment sites continually warn us, “Past results are no guarantee of future performance.” Still, at least we are reading this obit, and it is not about us, and so we read on, paddling against the reaper no matter how strong the current.