Resurrected Writing: the Essay that Started it All - Part 2
This post is a continuation of “Resurrected Writing” begun on November 9th, 2017; starting there may make following the rest of this post easier, if you haven’t already read Part 1.
This procedure is the now traditional burial process used in the United States. What started as methods to allow for weeks long shipping of bodies during the Civil War and containment for decomposing corpses buried too close to water supplies (or on unstable ground) has now become the de rigueur process of disposing of the dead. Unfortunately, this has caused some unintended side effects.
First, there is the issue of a lack of burial area; a growing concern as baby boomers reach ages where they will soon be needing such space. Each concrete vault requires a certain amount of room, so there is finite space available in any one cemetery. Additionally, there are few ways of squeezing out more area for burial in these cemeteries, particularly as many of them require a vault liner of some kind. The second problem with this fashion of burial is that the chemicals used in the process are toxic, and predominantly are going to end up in the ground and potentially water. Admittedly, right now, they’re locked away in a steel lined casket, but this isn’t a sustainable process. Changes must be made to the way burials are performed, opening up more land use possibilities, particularly in areas where “more land” simply isn’t an option..
I propose a two-part solution, which encompasses legal changes and addressing the social norms regarding death and burial. By following through with this plan, not only will the lack of cemetery space likely be alleviated, but the process of mourning, burial and honoring the dead will be more personal, and cultivate a reciprocal social stewardship between the legacy of the dead, and the lives of the living.
Currently, there is surprisingly sparse legislation regarding the disposal of the dead. In the United States, there is a little regulation detailing where bodies can be interred, such as the restriction on not burying the dead in agricultural fields, and restrictions are in place on what methods may be used—processes must be evaluated and approved. When looking at the problem, the overall realization is that the current funerary industry has, no pun intended, dug its own grave.
The minimal legislation regarding the disposal of the dead means that most of the rules requiring grave vaults—the large concrete liners to prevent the collapse of the coffin from dirt—are inventions on the part of the cemeteries. Mostly, what these vaults provide is a means by which the cemetery can use heavy machinery to dig graves and maintain the immaculate landscaping pioneered in the 1950s as the ideal (Greene, 2008). Unfortunately, this reality isn’t discussed when funeral arrangements are planned, so the customer doesn’t truly understand the function of grave vaults. Our cultural norms perpetuate the issue by ignoring the memorial practices that have led to cemeteries becoming so cramped in the first place.
The first step towards a shift in standards is holding cemeteries and funeral homes accountable for the pollutants they put into the ground, such as embalming chemicals. Formaldehyde is highly carcinogenic, yet it’s the primary agent in the standard embalming process, even though there are less toxic options available (Beard, J.). Some opponents claim that the embalming procedure reduces the risk of infection to funerary directors, but this is an exaggeration at the least. It’s fully possible to disinfect a body for safe viewing without draining all the fluids and stuffing the body with chemicals that are more toxic to humans than typhoid is to the morticians.
Most likely, completely eliminating pollution is a pipe dream. However, some of the current best practices to reduce the release of toxins involve restricting the levels of pollutants released into biosystems. This is achieved by charging a fine for release of certain levels of pollutants, or perhaps adding a consumption tax to the embalming process. This tactic is already is at work to prevent air pollution for energy companies and other factories, and indeed, even for the cremation of bodies. Why not extend it to the chemicals that are going to leech into the ground from burial? This measure will bypass those funeral homes who can keep their pollution numbers low, and fine those who don’t, in effect making it more profitable to not pollute. This will address the issue of space because in the effort to reduce toxic leakage, more graves will likely be done in a manner that allows for smaller gravesites; since large caskets and vaults will not be used and faster decomposition can occur. In a few short generations there will be room to begin the process of “overlapping” gravesites without actually disturbing the dead.
A vault ad found on a mortuary website.
As is, however, this solution then presents the issue that many cemeteries can just write rules requiring all burials to purchase expensive “leak-proof” vaults, which is what ultimately helps contribute to the lack of space. By slowing down the natural degradation process of the body (and casket), cemeteries require more and more land to store these vaults. Unfortunately, it would likely be too difficult to ban the use of these vaults. The funeral industry would probably throw fits, as these vaults are expensive and are a big money-maker for them. Additionally, the arrangement of the vaults allows the cemetery to use large machinery to maintain the grounds, reducing their operating costs. Not having perfectly sculpted hills and plains makes burying new bodies and mowing the lawn difficult. Additionally, the people who have recently purchased, or intend on purchasing a vault, would also join the fight. However, I would argue that this is probably due to misinformation about the usefulness of vaults. Many people, particularly the recently or suddenly-in-need patrons of the funeral homes, who are emotionally compromised due to grief, are lead to believe that the vault will prevent horrible untoward things from happening to their loved ones’ bodies, see Figure 1.
After all the work of embalming, you don’t want the face of your dearly departed to be smashed in when the expensive casket gives out under the weight of the dirt. However, the vault will not permanently prevent moisture from beginning to eat away at the casket, nor will it stop the eventual putrefaction of the body inside. The best sealed vault will only slow down the inevitable collapse of the casket (and vault itself), into the already moldering corpse inside.
Instead of attempting to eliminate the use of burial vaults through legislation, the added cost of pollution fines or taxes will most likely do a better job of ending the practice. Funeral homes will pass the cost onto their consumers, ultimately alienating their own customer base. The average funeral and interment is estimated to cost nearly $10,000 already. Adding a bit more will only discourage economically minded, or restricted, families from choosing the more space-consuming vaults (Butler, as qtd. Beard). Many may begin to find that the alternatives to the traditional burial are very satisfying as a means to memorialize their dearly departed.
"If you speak it, it will come" has made discussions around death a mostly taboo topic Image CC0 from Pixabay
While economic impact can change the way people choose to be buried, the best long-term solution has little to do with economics, and more to do with cultural norms surrounding death. The United States’ current cultural model for dealing with and preparing for death is generally to ignore it until it’s absolutely necessary. In many cases, it’s almost as though Americans feel that if they talk about how they want to be buried, it will hasten their death. This, however, puts people who are already in intense emotional pain in the awkward and even more taxing position of having to determine all of the details that go into disposal of the dead. As noted in an analysis in the Journal of Marketing Management, what usually occurs is that the consumer is “less aware of the choices available and their own motivations in the decision-making process, the standard cultural modes of disposal are likely to dominate with significant guidance from market providers” (Canning, et al.).
In other words, the marketplace may be exploiting people in this highly emotional state, and so it really isn’t so surprising that the mortuary’s list of options is primarily stuck at two methods of disposal (the two most expensive, conveniently), with little attention being paid to other possibilities that don’t include vaults, or the consumption of large quantities of raw materials. For example, few have heard of resomation. This process is an alkaline hydrolysis of the tissues—a warm bath which gently dissolves the body leaving the bones. On average, it uses about 1/7th the energy of cremation, allows for the recycling of artificial parts (e.g. pacemakers, metal joints), and for disposal of the last remains virtually anywhere (Murray, 268-269). Generally, the alternatives that exist aren’t discussed by funerary directors without the patron’s express advance questioning about them, and given that the majority of people in the middle of grieving are not in a position to take the time to question the standards, the old standbys are continued almost thoughtlessly.
If, however, society begins to redress the norm of “if we don’t talk about it, maybe it won’t happen”, which leaves the bereaved in the position of having to determine how and where and in what to dispose of their dead while in the middle of mourning, we can likely begin to change the lack of space in American cemeteries, or at least prevent future space issues. This is of particular interest to the ‘Boom generation; is the traditional burial, and the frequently somewhat monotone feeling of a funerary style molded mostly in the 1950s and 1960s, a best match? With the recent increase in green burials, and alternative cremation disposals (such as being made into an artificial reef) the initial feeling would seem to be resoundingly negative. By beginning the discussion and planning their legacy for the future, specifying their preferred disposal, and memorial, the Boomer generation can begin to lift the lid on the old social taboo of not discussing what should be done after their dead.
My grandparents all planned and arranged their funerals. Image (not my grandfather) CC0 from Pixabay
This is the case in my own family, where the tradition of planning one’s own funeral began with my grandparents. Upon realizing the severity of some of their illnesses, my grandparents choose and purchased their plots, and dictated the products and services to be rendered upon their demise. While initially this felt a bit macabre, and I cried when thinking about it, when their eventual deaths did come, there was one great relief brought about because of this: we knew exactly what they wanted. My family did not need to agonize over the music or who to invite, or where to bury them, or anything of the sort. All we had to do was grieve our loss, and memorialize my grandparents in the manner they thought best for them. Noting the calm and consolation this brought them, my own parents have already begun to discuss their wishes with me. It this change that can ultimately alter the lack of space in cemeteries: the cultural modeling of the Baby Boom generation can lead the way. And why not? They’ve already pioneered many new cultural norms as they came across them in their lifetime.
Please come back in two weeks for the last portion of this essay, “Resurrected Writing: Part 3”.