“He was now six light-years from the place that the Earth would have been if it still existed. The Earth. Visions of it swam sickeningly through his nauseated mind. There was no way his imagination could feel the impact of the whole Earth having gone, it was too big. He prodded his feelings by thinking that his parents and his sister had gone. No reaction. He thought of all the people he had been close to. No reaction. Then he thought of a complete stranger he had been standing behind in the queue at the supermarket two days before and felt a sudden stab—the supermarket was gone, everyone in it was gone. Nelson’s Column had gone! Nelson’s Column had gone and there would be no outcry, because there was no one left to make an outcry. From now on Nelson’s Column only existed in his mind. England only existed in his mind—his mind, stuck here in this dank smelly steel-lined spaceship. A wave of claustrophobia closed in on him. England no longer existed. He’d got that—somehow he’d got it. He tried again. America, he thought, has gone. He couldn’t grasp it. He decided to start smaller again. New York has gone. No reaction. He’d never seriously believed it existed anyway. The dollar, he thought, has sunk for ever. Slight tremor there. Every Bogart movie has been wiped, he said to himself, and that gave him a nasty knock. McDonald’s, he thought. There is no longer any such thing as a McDonald’s hamburger. He passed out. When he came round a second later he found he was sobbing for his mother.
He jerked himself violently to his feet. “Ford!”
“If you’re a researcher on this book thing and you were on Earth, you must have been gathering material on it.”
“Well, I was able to extend the original entry a bit, yes.”
Arthur followed Ford’s finger, and saw where it was pointing. For a moment it still didn’t register, then his mind nearly blew up. “What? Harmless? Is that all it’s got to say? Harmless! One word!”
“Well, for God’s sake, I hope you managed to rectify that a bit.” “Oh yes, well, I managed to transmit a new entry off to the editor. He had to trim it a bit, but it’s still an improvement.” “And what does it say now?” asked Arthur. “Mostly harmless,” admitted Ford with a slightly embarrassed cough. “Mostly harmless!” shouted Arthur.”
…
“This is terrific,” Arthur thought to himself, “Nelson’s Column has gone, McDonald’s has gone, all that’s left is me and the words Mostly harmless. Any second now all that will be left is Mostly harmless. And yesterday the planet seemed to be going so well.”
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Book by Douglas Adams
One of the main drives for people is to leave something behind that will be remembered for many generations. And while that’s very obvious when talking about artists, it’s actually a universal need for all human beings.
When Arthur tries to realise that his planet is completely gone, he can’t even imagine it. As if his brain is protecting him from going insane, because that’s probably what would happen if one day you wake up and someone tells you your entire world is gone. He slowly comes to grips with it, and the pain of the loss finally catches up. When he wakes up from passing out, his first reaction is to ask Ford about the Earth entry in the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” The only possible consolation right now is that even though Earth is gone, there would be some information about it.
Other life forms and planets would know that at some point somewhere, a little blue planet existed where Nelson’s Column, McDonald’s, England, supermarkets, and people existed. But the only entry is Mostly harmless.
“…all that’s left is me and the words Mostly harmless.”
As he is about to be launched into space, his last thoughts are how when he dies, there will be nothing left of Earth because Nelson’s Columns and England, and Everything, only exist in his mind, and he will soon be dead.
So, where does this obsession to leave a legacy come from? There are probably many reasons for it and the research to show for it, but I’m not a scientist, so I’ll talk about the two that interested me the most.
Overcoming death anxiety and becoming immortal
For now, becoming immortal is physically impossible, so humans look for the next best thing – transferring a piece of their soul to something else with the hopes that the memory lives on after we’re gone.
When people think about why they don’t want to die, the majority of them say something along the lines of “I have so much to live for/ it’s too early for me!” So it’s not death itself, it’s the timing and the fear of missing out on universally appreciated human experiences.
So we use art, children, memories, and breaking records to compensate for the little time we have on this earth and hope that one day, it will all be worth it. To put it very simply, we want to make sure people know we existed, even after we’re gone.
But underneath that fear of being forgotten is something deeper. It’s the fear of not mattering, of not making a difference. We want to feel like we’ve left our mark on the world, even if it’s just a little one.
Why do we want to be remembered so badly? Well, it’s like this: we’re all scared of disappearing, of being forgotten. Just like Arthur, we’re terrified of being erased from the story of the universe.
So, we chase after immortality, hoping that somehow, someway, we’ll be remembered. Even when faced with the vastness of the universe and the inevitability of our own end, we still cling to the hope that our legacy will live on.
Making sense of a senseless existence
You know, sometimes life feels pretty random and confusing. It’s like being in the middle of one of those crazy scenes from “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” where everything is just absurd and nonsensical.
But even in all that chaos, we humans want to feel like we matter. We want to believe that our lives have some kind of purpose, that we’re not just floating aimlessly in the void.
So, we try to make sense of it all by leaving our mark on the world – something that makes a difference. It’s like we’re saying, “Hey, maybe life doesn’t make much sense, but at least I’m doing my part.” We think that maybe if we contribute something meaningful, it’ll give our lives some purpose.
This is why Arthur desperately clings to the entry for Earth and gets mad when he sees what it is – as if all of those brilliant scientists, artists, activists, and people in general – all of our efforts and struggles were for nothing. There is no mark and with Arthur dead, there won’t be even a memory of anything we did as a species.
People want to believe that our actions, our contributions, are important and that they somehow make the universe a better place. By creating this piece of writing, I want to think that someday, someone will read it and take something from it – whether it’s an idea or an inspiration to make their own art.
It’s the human egocentric need to be important and to be remembered because if not, why do we even live?
I’ve always hated conclusions, so I’m not writing a proper one, but I will mention that I actually never finished that book, and for a long time, I felt very guilty because of that. After all, it’s considered a masterpiece, but for some reason, I just couldn’t find anything to keep me going further than 7 or 8 chapters.
Thankfully, one of the things I learned in the past few years was to be more understanding and kind to myself. To not put myself in a box of expectations and read or write with other people in mind.
After trying it out, I had to accept that it wasn’t for me and just leave it at that. However, that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate it. After all, it gave me the motivation I needed to write and made me think about what I was leaving behind.
That will be my goal for the future. Be kind, make art, and don’t feel guilty about not finishing books.
Thank you for reading!
References
My brilliant brain
Brett Waggoner, Jesse M. Bering, Jamin Halberstadt, The desire to be remembered: A review and analysis of legacy motivations and behaviors, New Ideas in Psychology, Volume 69, 2023, 101005, ISSN 0732-118X, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.newideapsych.2022.101005.
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