Hell is other people

The Truth about Ageing and Hell Is Other People

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Sartrean Hell: Hell is other people

Introduction

The phrase hell is other people (L’enfer, c’est les autres) is one of the many memorable phases penned by Jean Paul Sartre. It comes from his play No Exit (Huis Clos). The phrase is often misunderstood as a poetic expression of misanthropy. It manifestly is not.

In No Exit, three characters—Garcin, Inès, and Estelle—find themselves in a small, windowless room after death. The phrase highlights the profound impact others have on our self-perception and freedom.

We are judged by others (and we judge them). We are very aware that others observe us and judge us, and this affects how we behave and affects our self-image.

And this is where hell comes into things. On the one hand, we want to be authentic (to use a favourite existentialist term), on the other we can’t help but try to conform to the expectations of others. This creates tension and this tension is Sartrean hell. Sartre called this being-for-others.

Sartre is one of the twentieth century’s great philosophers. I have written before about the contrast between the opacity of his writing and the beautiful and lucid psychological insights into the human condition that his writing contains. Sartre’s work is full of contrasts, contradictions and paradoxes.

Paradoxes like how our radical freedom (we are condemned to be free – a paradox in itself) is constrained by how our choices are affected by how we behave when we are perceived and judged by others.

We fool ourselves by saying that we have no choice about how we have chosen – Sartre calls this bad faith. But we always have choice even when influenced by others.

Have you ever behaved in a way that you know is not how you want to behave – perhaps before a boss, or before someone you want to impress? That is the Sartrean idea of being-for-others.

When I started secondary school the school seemed enormous. During the first week I got lost trying to find the classroom for my next lesson. I saw a teacher lining up his class outside a classroom. I went up to him and asked directions. He told me not to interrupt him and get in line.

I tried to protest that this wasn’t my class. The more I tried to protest the angrier he got. I could feel the eyes of all the pupils on me – this is what Sartre calls the gaze of the other. What I felt I now realise was anxiety and self-consciousness.

And this is exactly what Sartre talks about. When we are under the gaze of others we can be affected by a range of emotions. I felt the discomfort of anxiety and self-consciousness. In other situations, you will feel other emotions. For example. when you know you’ve impressed someone you may feel a sense of pride.

The gaze of the other affects the way we behave. We realise that we are objects for others. We become acutely aware that we are alive and for us the Cartesian I think therefore I am is reversed and becomes I am therefore I think.

Let’s go back to Sartre’s play, No Exit. Where his three characters—Garcin, Inès, and Estelle—find themselves in a small, windowless room after death. There is no torture chamber or demons, just these three individuals in an eternal confrontation with each other.

What Sartre is really getting at with “hell is other people” is the idea that we are always being judged by others, and in return, we judge them. We are acutely aware that others are observing us, and this knowledge shapes how we behave and, ultimately, how we see ourselves.

Now, you might wonder, how does this philosophical idea relate to ageing? The reality is that as you grow older, the gaze of others and the pressure it creates become even more significant.

Ageing brings with it physical changes, shifts in how you are perceived by society, and a constant negotiation between being true to yourself and conforming to the expectations of others.

And this is where Sartre’s philosophy on the gaze and “hell is other people” can offer a fresh perspective on what it means to age in a world that prizes youth.

Ageing and the Gaze of Others

Think about the physical changes that come with ageing—wrinkles, grey hair, slower movements. These changes aren’t just private, they are visible to the world.

And the world has a lot to say about ageing. Sartre’s gaze refers to the way we see ourselves as objects in the eyes of others. We’re all familiar with that feeling of being judge (silently) by others.

As you age, this gaze becomes more critical. Suddenly, you may feel judged for no longer fitting the ideal of youth and beauty. When someone looks at you and sees your age before they see you as a person, you’re experiencing what Sartre called being-for-others.

And it’s not just about vanity. The gaze of others can make you feel like you no longer belong in spaces you once felt comfortable. The gym? Trendy Clothes shops? I could go on.

You might feel that younger people in particular see you as out of touch or irrelevant. And here’s the key Sartrean insight: these judgments can shape your behaviour, making you more self-conscious, anxious, even ashamed.

When you know people are perceiving you through a lens of ageing, it’s easy to feel like you’re losing control over your own identity.

You might even find yourself acting differently, trying to fit the role that society expects of someone your age, even if it’s not authentic to who you are.

But here’s the paradox: while you may feel hyper-visible—judged and scrutinized—you might also feel invisible.

Older adults often talk about feeling overlooked or ignored in social situations, as though their presence no longer matters. This is yet another layer of Sartre’s “hell is other people.” You’re seen when you don’t want to be, and you’re invisible when you want to be seen.

This tension between hyper-visibility and invisibility is one of the most striking challenges of ageing in a society that glorifies youth. You’re constantly negotiating between how others see you and how you see yourself.

Bad Faith and Ageing: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Sartre introduces another concept that is deeply relevant to ageing: bad faith. This is the lie you tell yourself to avoid what can be at times the crushing burden of radical freedom – you are condemned to be free.

When you act in bad faith, you convince yourself that you have no choice but to behave in certain ways because that’s what society expects. You deny your own freedom to choose your actions and define your own identity. The the truth is you have chosen.

As you age, the pressure to act in bad faith can become more intense. Society has clear ideas about what older people should and shouldn’t do.

You’re told to act your age, to slow down, to retire gracefully. But Sartre would argue that you’re always free to choose how you live, even when society imposes its expectations on you.

Take retirement as an example. For many, retirement marks the end of productivity. There’s this implicit message that once you retire, you should fade into the background, stepping aside for people who are younger than you.

And yet, deep down, you might still feel a desire to contribute, to stay engaged with life in a meaningful way. But bad faith might lead you to accept society’s narrative, convincing yourself that you have no choice but to become passive, to let go of the activities and ambitions that once defined you.

The truth, according to Sartre, is that you always have a choice. Even when the world tells you that your time has passed, you can choose to live authentically. You can ignore the expectations and judgments of others and do your own thing, whatever your age.

It’s not always easy to go against the societal grain. But I bet you did it in your youth; so why not do it now. There are many, many non-conforming people in the autumn of their lives.

Ageing as a Sartrean Hell: Confronting Mortality

Ageing inevitably brings you face-to-face with your own mortality. In Sartre’s terms, this could be seen as the ultimate gaze—the awareness of death as the final judgment.

It’s not just that others are watching you, it’s that your life itself is under review. As you age, you might start to think more about how you will be remembered, what your legacy will be, and whether you’ve lived a meaningful life.

This can create an inner tension, much like the one Sartre described in No Exit. You may feel that your life is being judged, not only by others but by yourself. Yes, I agree, it does get a bit complicated. So, you’re judged by others and now you rub salt into your ageing wounds by judging yourself.

This judgment can feel like hell, especially if you believe that you haven’t lived up to your own potential or that you’ll be remembered in ways that don’t reflect your true self.

The gaze of others in this context is not just about superficial judgments; it’s about how your entire existence will be interpreted by those you leave behind.

You can’t control how others will remember you, and that lack of control can feel like a loss of freedom—one of Sartre’s ultimate existential concerns.

The Tension Between Freedom and Dependency in Old Age

As you get older, physical and cognitive decline can often lead to a feeling of lost freedom. When you rely on others for care, the Sartrean concept of freedom feels more distant.

But Sartre would argue that even in dependency, you still have the freedom to choose how you respond to your circumstances. This might not be the radical, unconstrained freedom you had in your youth, but it’s still freedom. Even Sartre recognised that our freedom, as radical as it is, is constrained by our circumstances.

In Sartre’s view, freedom is about how you relate to your situation, not just about the ability to do whatever you want. In this, Sartre is very much in tune with Viktor Frankl, the originator of Logotherapy. Frankl emphasised that we cannot choose our circumstances but we can choose the attitude we take to those circumstances.

As you age and face limitations, you can still choose how you interpret those limitations. Are they barriers to living, or are they challenges that you can navigate in new ways?

Think about the experience of older adults who become dependent on their children for care. This role reversal can create its own form of hell, where the parent feels judged by their own child, unable to maintain the independence they once had.

Yet, even in this situation, there is room for choice. You can choose how to engage with those around you, how to maintain a sense of dignity and identity despite the dependency.

Strategies for Overcoming Sartrean Hell in Old Age

So, how do you overcome Sartre’s version of hell in the ageing process? One strategy is to embrace authenticity.

This means rejecting bad faith and the pressure to conform to what others expect. Instead, you can define what ageing means for you, on your own terms.

For example, you might decide to pursue a passion you’ve always put off, even if it’s not “age-appropriate” according to society.

You might become more vocal in advocating for your rights or the rights of others in similar situations. Living authentically in old age can mean asserting your freedom, even in the face of physical decline and social judgment.

Another key to overcoming Sartrean hell is to redefine what freedom looks like in old age. You may no longer have the physical freedom to do everything you once did, but you can still exercise freedom in smaller, yet significant ways—choosing how you spend your time, what relationships you nurture, and how you relate to your own ageing process.

Concluding Thoughts: Ageing as a Radical Act of Freedom

In many ways, ageing can be seen as a radical act of freedom. Society often views old age as a time of decline, but Sartre’s philosophy suggests that it can be a time of liberation.

You’re no longer bound by the pressures of youth—career advancement, social status, or conforming to trends. In old age, you can redefine what it means to live authentically, to choose how you engage with the world despite the gaze of others.

Ageing can indeed feel like Sartre’s version of hell at times, especially as you feel yourself subjected to the judgments of others and the physical limitations that come with time.

But by embracing the freedom to live authentically, to resist bad faith, and to reject the notion that old age means a loss of purpose, you can transform that hell into something more meaningful.

In the end, hell is other people only if you allow their judgments to dictate your life. Sartre reminds us that, no matter our age, we always have the freedom to define ourselves.

And in that freedom lies the possibility of overcoming hell—even when it feels like the whole world is watching.

If this resonates with you, leave a comment.

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