The Problem with Saying ‘Suicide Isn’t an Option’
This morning, I allowed myself to be distracted from a writing task and went on Facebook. The first post I alighted upon was a news post about the death of Nick Imudia. Until his death, Nick was the CEO of D.Light, a child organization of Shell PLC that provides affordable solar solutions.
The comment section of the post was littered with questions that were left unanswered by the news article, claims of murder, assumptions, accusatory references to depression and mental health, and the familiar “suicide isn’t an option” admonishment.
The “suicide isn’t an option” admonishment always triggers my thinking ability because I have never been convinced that the statement is completely true — it even roils me when it comes with an air of unsympathetic arrogance from someone who thinks they know too much about life and living to come to a point where they will see only suicide as an answer to their tribulation.
Is it that we don’t want to accept that suicide could be an — effective — option? Or is it that suicide is truly not an option? The part of me that has been socially conditioned to see suicide as an abomination accepts that suicide isn’t an option. Yet the part of me that has the proclivity to severely question any claim rejects that orientation.
As a year-two undergraduate student, I read the thoughts of the German philosopher Author Schopenhauer on suicide. A part of his arguments concretely reinforced my questioning of the claim that suicide isn’t an option.
In Schopenhauer’s days, suicide was a crime in England and some other Western societies. An unsuccessful suicide mission was punished by the state. Even a successful one was punished by confiscating the properties of the deceased, and ensuring that the deceased gets an undignified burial.
So in his Essays on Pessimism, Schopenhauer dedicated a section to the topic of suicide. In that section he argued that it’s senseless to categorize suicide as a criminal offence and he pilloried religious authorities for punishing suicide, even when the Bible didn’t prescribe any judgement for it or provide a clear, direct discussion about it.
Two quotes called out to me in the essay. One from Schopenhauer himself and the other from Pliny the Elder, a first century Roman philosopher whom Schopenhauer quoted to: back up his argument against criminalizing suicide, and show that he isn’t few cards shy of a full deck for holding such a controversial opinion on the topic because the logical basis for his implicit halfway support for suicide has been around for centuries.
They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice; that only a madman could be guilty of it; and other insipidities of the same kind; or else they make the nonsensical remark that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. — Schopenhauer
Life is not so desirable a thing as to be protracted at any cost. Whoever you are, you are sure to die, even though your life has been full of abomination and crime. The chief of all remedies for a troubled mind is the feeling that among the blessings which Nature gives to man, there is none greater than an opportune death; and the best of it is that every one can avail himself of it. — Pliny
It’s not hard to tell why those quotes stood out for me. I read the entire essay with the mind of a Nigerian millennial who isn’t unfamiliar with the default, murderous existential grime that Nigeria forces on every Nigerian. It has been twelve years since I read the essay, but those quotes never left my mind. I always use the thoughts that undergird them as a framework for analyzing suicide stories. That’s what I’m doing here again.
When famous and successful people commit suicide as Nick did, they leave us with myriad of important questions that we hardly find answers to. The grinding hardship or poverty thesis that some people like to use as a framework for analyzing suicide fails, and everyone wants to know why people commit suicide when they have the kind of smoothly flourishing life that millions of people work tirelessly for, but may never get till they leave this world.
The mental health thesis too isn’t as adequate as it has been cracked up to be. Mental illness alone does not lead to suicide, and most people experiencing symptoms of a mental health condition do not die by suicide. Suicide is as convoluted as it is glum. It mocks and defies simple explanations or solutions, and the casual “suicide isn’t an option” shibboleth.
I concede that there are cases where people misguidedly think suicide is the accurate solution and if verbally dissuaded or physically stopped from putting a successful action to the thought, they become rather grateful when they look back in retrospect. But we must also agree that there are cases where the victim has tried several solutions, accurately confirmed that they merely palliate the hopeless existential tribulation, and is convinced that suicide is the best and final solution ( this is especially true for successful people who have all the appurtenances of hedonistic lifestyle at their beck and call). Even if the hope for a positive, non-suicidal, permanent solution helps them to endure the agony a little longer, not knowing how such solution will come and the uncertainty of its arrival, makes suicide a swift rationally irresistible solution.
I demur to Pliny’s opinion that “life is not so desirable a thing as to be protracted at any cost.” All studies on human nature have shown that that’s not true. Our species place a high premium on life and each person protect theirs at all cost. If we narrow it down to the crudest point, almost everything we do is in a way calculated to keep our life: we work to get money so we can build our own home or pay rent for a home that protects us against the elements and woes that befall homeless people, we work to get money so we can eat good food to sustain our life, and we work to get money so we can buy medications or pay hospital bills when our health needs to be attended to before it leads to death. We practically live to keep our lives. If someone who has lived all their life doing all it takes to keep their life suddenly decides that they no longer wants to do so, it must be that they are truly and thoroughly convinced about the decision. If such a person succeeds in committing suicide, our response should be only good wishes for them on the other side.
When a patient can no longer endure the extreme pain of an ailment and sees that all treatment methods and ideas that have been tried failed, they sometimes beg for euthanasia. When they make such request, everyone deeply sympathizes with them. In some cases, their families may even approve the request because they see clearly that the patient needs to be permanently put out of the agony. The patient gets the sympathy they deserve and maybe even an approval because people around them know the full story of what led to their bizarre request. They know it well and see it all. After their death, only mentally unhinged people would go around saying “ RIP, but euthanasia isn’t an option”, having heard or seen the whole story.
The example above relates to bodily pain. But we know that just like the body, the human mind, too, feels pain. There are unlimited, intense recurring pain that the mind can go through that may make someone choose suicide instead of enduring extreme, cyclical pain in the hope that a permanent non-suicidal solution would come someday. However unlike the case of the visibly sick patient, we don’t get to see the pain of the mind and how sufferers repeatedly try to pull through unsuccessfully. So, it’s comfortable for us to think their decision to commit suicide is irrational and hasty. Mind pain is always completely inexpressible for the victims so everyone around them and outsiders have little or no details about the pain. So, everyone acknowledge that the problem isn’t clear, yet they conclude that suicide is certainly not a solution.
While it may not be possible to willfully support a stranger’s or a loved one’s suicide just because they say they suffer unseen upheavals in their mind, it is possible to show them sympathy when they inevitably commit suicide. There should be no remarks or insinuations suggesting that they made the wrong decision. It’s unsympathetic and unfair to judge their decision as a bad option when we don’t know what they went through. We shouldn’t repeat — to the point of annoyance — the “suicide isn’t an option” shibboleth as though we know the whole story. We don’t know the whole story. We hardly ever know the whole story. Even their families and friends never get to know the whole story.
The statement “Suicide isn’t an option,” often uttered with good intentions, fails to acknowledge the depth and invisibility of mental pain, which can be as debilitating as any physical ailment. I don’t endorse the act of ending one’s life but I think we must offer understanding and withhold judgment, recognizing that our perspective is limited and incomplete. When we say “Suicide isn’t an option,” we may inadvertently dismiss the real and excruciating struggles faced by individuals. Compassion, not clichés, should lead our response. We should see beyond our assumptions and recognize the complex, often hidden battles that so many endure.
Rest in Peace, Nick Imudia
Rest in Peace, Nick Imudia. We are reminded of the profound mysteries that every individual harbors. In your decision to depart in such a final way, we are left pondering the depths of experiences and challenges unknown to us. It is a stark reminder that behind the accolades and accomplishments, there are often silent battles that go unnoticed.
Though we may never grasp the full scope of what you endured, we recognize that for someone who provided so many solutions, the complexities of your own struggles remained unseen, perhaps unsolvable. Your choice, though deeply tragic, underscores a poignant truth: sometimes, even the brightest minds face dark corridors with no apparent exit.
You will be remembered not just for your leadership but for this last, stark lesson you impart; it implores us to approach the unseen battles others face with a gentler, more understanding heart. May your journey onwards be free from the pain that marred your final days. You’ve logged out of this world, but your contributions and the enigma of your story will ensure you’re never merely a footnote. Farewell, Nick, and may your story prompt us to be kinder, wiser, and ever more vigilant of the unseen struggles among us.
