Why do so many religions promise an afterlife?
Christopher Hitchens once noted:
“Heaven would be hell for me.”
It’s a shocking phrase—until you unpack it.
Heaven, in many traditions, is sold as an eternal reward: peace, reunion, joy, God. But look closer, and it becomes something more troubling. Eternal worship. No doubt. No challenge. No end.
Douglas Adams wryly wrote:
“I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I don’t know the answer.”
It’s a gentle admission of uncertainty—something religion rarely allows.
The afterlife, for many, is not a promise—it’s a control mechanism. Believe what we tell you, live how we say, and you’ll be rewarded. Disobey, and you’re cast into the fire.
But what if death is simply… death?
It’s a frightening idea. And yet it’s also the one that gives life meaning.
If we knew this was it—no second act, no do-over—wouldn’t we live better? Love harder? Waste less?
Sam Harris suggests:
“The only thing you can be sure of is that you are in this moment, alive… and what you do now matters.”
Secular morality does not need a reward. It flows from empathy, not eternity.
The belief in an afterlife may offer comfort—but it also dulls urgency. It allows us to defer justice, kindness, forgiveness. It lets us believe the cruel are punished later and the good are compensated in some vague beyond.
But morality is now. Meaning is now.
And maybe that’s more beautiful—and more terrifying—than anything promised in heaven.