The George Costanza Guide to Death Acceptance

How a conversation over soup perfectly captures our struggle with mortality

We all have a little George Costanza in us. I know I do.

There's this scene from Seinfeld that I've been thinking about lately. It's one of the first things I showed people when I began working with death and dying back in 2014, screening episodes in the beautiful cinema at Fabrica, Benetton's (just recently - and poignantly - closed) design research centre in the Venetian countryside.

In this particular scene (From Season 4, Episode 18, "The Old Man"), George is having soup with Ben, an elderly man who is surprisingly relaxed about death. What starts as casual diner chat quickly spirals into one of the most perfect portraits of death anxiety ever captured on television.

Ben: "No, I feel great for 85."
George: "Y'know the average life span for an American male is like, 72. You're really... kinda pushin' the envelope there."
Ben: "I'm not afraid of dyin'. I never think about it."

After this, George loses it. What follows is a masterclass in how not to accept the reality of mortality.

He gets increasingly frantic. He cannot comprehend Ben's calm acceptance. He desperately tries to make Ben understand the gravity of the situation. I mean, doesn't Ben know he could die at any moment? Has he not done the “math”?!

Ben's response is beautiful in its simplicity: “I guess I just don't care.”

I’ve loved this scene for years, and I just recently figured out why. Accepting reality - and this is something psychologists have known for years, but is something I think the rest of us struggle with - doesn't mean you have to like it.

There's actually a scale that professionals use to measure how well people accept themselves and their reality, from 1 (George Costanza levels of resistance) to 6 (Ben's zen-like shrug at mortality).

In my work facilitating the Mortals programme and previously working with terminally ill patients, I've met a few Bens and Georges over the years.

The Georges need to be convinced that accepting death means having to be somehow resigned and happy about it, because the default state is to hate it and try and avoid it at all costs. The Bens already know the secret: acceptance isn't about liking reality, it's about not wasting energy fighting it.

The scene ends perfectly. As George works himself into a full existential meltdown, Ben simply gets up to leave.

"Life's too short to waste on you," he says.

George's final words? "But Mr. Cantwell, you... you owe me for the soup..."

Even facing a profound truth about mortality, George remains, well, George - stuck in the small stuff, missing the bigger picture. It’s fair to say knowing him, he was going to be anxious about both death and the unpaid soup bill for the next week.

I'd like to say I'm always a Ben, floating through life with perfect acceptance of its finite nature. But most days, I'm definitely a little bit George, getting existential in inappropriate places.

And maybe that's okay too. After all, accepting that you're sometimes a George might be the most Ben thing you can do.