Two naturalistic afterlife possibilities

Introductory note and disclaimer: Despite the potential implications of the word "naturalistic" in this essay's title, I don't subscribe to the view of physicalism, a.k.a. materialism.  In fact, I've provided several arguments against it in another essay on this site.  My reason for providing a pair of afterlife hypotheses that could be true even under physicalism is simply that there are already countless arguments for the possibility of an afterlife that assume more "spiritual" or anti-materialistic premises.  And yet, no matter whether these anti-materialistic arguments are valid, they aren't likely to be taken seriously by someone who's a convinced physicalist.  I believe that either of my two  hypotheses here can't be dismissed so readily no matter what ontology one believes in, as long as they actually grasp what's being conveyed.

There are at least two entirely naturalistic ways of positing the basis for an afterlife and/or immortality. Each one is compatible with an orientation of physicalism or scientific materialism, and neither relies on notions of a spirit or soul continuing beyond the body. And while each one does entail a relatively small degree of inference, neither requires outright belief or a violation of logic.

a) Eternity via the alteration of neurochemicals at the moment of death.

To appreciate this, consider how even a slight tweaking of brain chemistry by factors like drugs, meditation, or even trauma can effect huge changes in one’s state, including sometimes radical alterations in the sense of time. In extreme cases, it’s possible to experience eons of subjective time in a matter of minutes of clock time. Given this, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to consider that a subjectively eternal “afterlife” might be found as the brain shuts down at the moment of death.

What form(s) such an afterlife experience might take — and whether it would literally never end — is necessarily speculative, yet can still be approached judiciously. For instance, based on how ineluctable change is in every domain of existence, an argument could be made that this afterlife would likely cover a spectrum of states and experiences, rather than just locking into one state for the duration. And since it appears self-evident that anything that has a beginning must also have an end, it seems unlikely that the experience would truly last “forever and ever,” even on the strictly subjective basis of the experience.

b) Immortality via continuity of generic subjectivity.

Understanding this requires an ability to distinguish the contents of consciousness from the property of pure subjectivity that is their unifying context. This distinction is subtle enough to prove tricky and elusive for many, but the insight is worth the effort to understand it. The contents of consciousness are the perceptions, thoughts, feelings, memories, states and personality traits which, as a gestalt, constitute one’s uniqueness and individuality. The property of pure subjectivity, on the other hand, is neither unique nor individual, but phenomenologically identical in everyone. It’s the simple, generic "something-it's-like-to-be" awareness that’s utterly the same in every sentient being (not just humans).

One implication of this generic and propertyless aspect of subjectivity is that, if you woke up one morning with a different set of memories, traits, feelings, and so on, you wouldn’t know the difference; you would simply take yourself to be (and to have always been) the identity constituted by that particular gestalt of memories, traits, feelings, etc. There would be no felt gap and no incongruity. Why? Because the “you” at this level of generic subjectivity supersedes the “you” of all the personal contents of consciousness you tend to identify with. But this is constantly overlooked because the latter (the contents of consciousness) eclipses the former (the context of consciousness, i.e., generic subjectivity).

The other implication which follows from this is that, at the end of this life, when you close your eyes for the last time and breathe your last breath, a new being somewhere (anywhere) will take in its first breath — and that will also be you.  But, as with the total identity transplant scenario above, it’s the generic “you” of pure subjectivity that’s the common denominator. (It’s important not to confuse this with reincarnation: the continuity here is not biographical; nor is it based on a metaphysical entity transmigrating from one form to another. Pure subjectivity isn’t a ground or substratum of any kind.)

One final note is that these two ideas are not necessarily mutually exclusive. As mentioned in the a) scenario, no matter how unending or unendable it may feel while playing itself out, this “afterlife” experience would almost certainly come to an end eventually. And yet, as mentioned in the b) scenario, there is both intra- and interpersonal continuity via the purely subjective aspect of experience. So, just as the void of deep, dreamless sleep is not an experienced gap between waking and dreaming and waking again, neither should the void of death be expected to be an experienced gap between one life and another life, nor between one life and its own “afterlife” and whatever might follow that afterlife.