Dying before the eclipse: the unease nobody expected

The eclipse, a date your body won't confirm

Every so often, a scheduled astronomical event stirs up a worry that never appears in science outreach manuals: the certainty that we might not live to see it. The eclipse isn't the problem; the problem is that life's calendar collides with an expiry date nobody knows.

The thought, voiced with unease, has struck a chord, drawing a chorus of responses ranging from fatalism to indifference. Some prefer not to think about the possibility of an unexpected death, while others reply that they'll stay indoors painting Warhammer miniatures while the rest of the world looks at the sky. The range of reactions runs from genuine anxiety to a shrug of the shoulders.

The unease everyone talks about but no one names

It's not a clinical phenomenon, but it makes sense: every long-term plan includes a variable that no insurance policy can cover. The solar eclipse is just the annual reminder that death gives no warning, and that the next episode of your favourite series, the chicken and potatoes dinner, or the end of the world itself may end up with no one watching.

The ostrich strategy and the plastic dwarf strategy

While some feel overwhelmed, others respond with practical cynicism: if death comes, at least they won't have queued up to watch a shadow in the sky. Indifference is a shield, and dark humour, a balm. Some even complain about the human body's stubbornness in dying at the worst possible moment. But that's another battle.

For now, the conclusion is that the eclipse is approaching and nobody has a satisfying answer. The only certainty is that, if you're still around, you'll see it. And if not, no photo from space will tell the tale.