Why Daniel Kahneman chose to die on his own terms

Katarzyna de Lazari-Radek and Peter Singer, There’s a Lesson to Learn From Daniel Kahneman’s Death, NYTimes, April 14, 2025.

Daniel Kahneman was a world renowned psychologist and a Nobel Laureate in economics. He was old, 90 years, and in reasonable health. I did not have a debilitating or terminal illness. He was still capable of doing the intellectual work to which he had devoted his life. He died by assisted suicide on March 27 of this year. Lazari-Radek and Singer interviewed him on March 23.

About half-way through the article:

He surprised us by denying that his work had any objective significance. “Other people happen to respect it and say that this is for the benefit of humanity,” he said. “I just like to get up in the morning because I like the work.”

We pushed back, arguing that there are objectively good things to do with one’s life. But he resisted. “I feel I’ve lived my life well,” he said, “but it’s a feeling. I’m just reasonably happy with what I’ve done. I would say if there is an objective point of view, then I’m totally irrelevant to it. If you look at the universe and the complexity of the universe, what I do with my day cannot be relevant.”

We do not agree that the size and complexity of the universe render irrelevant an individual’s work for the benefit of humanity. But if, after careful reflection, you decide that your life is complete and remain firmly of that view for some time, you are the best judge of what is good for you. This is especially clear in the case of people who are at an age at which they cannot hope for improvement in their quality of life.

The final paragraph:

Professor Kahneman signaled concern that if he did not end his life when he was clearly mentally competent, he could lose control over the remainder of it and live and die with needless “miseries and indignities.” One lesson to learn from his death is that if we are to live well to the end, we need to be able to freely discuss when a life is complete, without shame or taboo. Such a discussion may help people to know what they really want. We may regret their decisions, but we should respect their choices and allow them to end their lives with dignity.

You might want to compare with a passage from Mary Douglas's Purity and Danger that I have quoted in this post: A spearmaster's way of death. Spearmasters are spiritual leaders among the Dinka of South Sudan. You might also read my account of my father's death. Here's the final paragraphs:

When, later that day, my sister, my mother, and I returned to the hospital, Dad was restless and tossed and turned quite a bit. Both my sister and I asked him whether or not he was uncomfortable and he indicated that he was not. One time when I asked him how he felt he just shrugged his shoulders and looked at me as if to say, "How should I know how I feel, I've never done this before." One thing he did, and it was quite striking, was to clasp his hands together and move them together over his right shoulder and then down to his waist. He seemed to be practicing his golf swing.

By this time the the morphine drip had began to relax him. Figuring we might have to be here all night, my sister, mother, and I went to the waiting room to rest. When we returned to his room, Gino, a nurse, was shaving him. Gino told us that he'd asked Dad if he wanted a shave and Dad indicated that he did. Dad had enough presence of mind to move his chin and cheeks to cooperate with the shave. Then he simply went to rest. About 10 minutes or so after that he'd died.

He went out swinging and smooth shaven.