Chapitre 3 : La cryogénie est-elle faite pour moi ?

Pushed by fear, pulled by hope

Par
Alessia Casali
13 novembre 2025

The motivations driving cryopreservation interest divide roughly into two categories: running from something and running toward something. Understanding which force moves you matters because it shapes your relationship with preservation, your expectations, and whether the choice ultimately serves you well.

Fear of death represents the most obvious push factor. Death eliminates everything: consciousness, relationships, projects, future experiences. The absolute finality can feel terrifying. Preservation offers escape from this terror, a way to defer the moment when everything ends. For some, this alone justifies any cost or inconvenience.

But fear makes a complicated foundation. Pure fear-driven choice often carries desperation rather than considered judgment. When terror motivates decisions, we sometimes commit to things that don't actually align with our deeper values. We grasp at any option that relieves immediate anxiety without evaluating whether it serves our long-term wellbeing.

Fear also creates unhealthy relationships with the future. If you choose preservation primarily to escape death rather than embrace continuation, you might find yourself trapped in perpetual avoidance. Every moment becomes shadowed by what you're fleeing rather than illuminated by what you're seeking. This psychological pattern doesn't necessarily make preservation wrong, but it suggests examining whether fear alone should drive such a significant choice.

The fear of missing out operates adjacent to death fear but with different character. FOMO about future technological developments, space exploration, scientific discoveries, or cultural evolution can motivate preservation. You don't want to die just before humanity achieves something extraordinary. You want to see how the story continues.

This motivation contains more forward orientation than pure death fear, but it still emphasizes what you'd lose rather than what you'd gain. The focus remains on absence and deprivation rather than presence and possibility.

Hope offers an alternative motivational foundation. Some people choose preservation because they genuinely love existence and want more of it. They're not fleeing death so much as pursuing continued life. The pull toward future experiences, relationships, and discoveries outweighs any push away from mortality's finality.

This distinction matters psychologically. Pull motivation generally creates healthier relationship with choices than push motivation. When you move toward something you want rather than away from something you fear, you maintain agency and positive orientation. You're choosing for affirmative reasons rather than defensive ones.

Hope-driven preservation manifests differently than fear-driven. Hope-motivated people often express curiosity about future possibilities, excitement about potential experiences, and enthusiasm about continued learning and growth. Their preservation interest fits within broader patterns of engagement with life and future.

Fear-motivated people often focus more on prevention, worst-case scenarios, and anxiety about missing out. Their preservation interest may sit alongside other anxiety-driven behaviors and exist somewhat separately from their daily life engagement.

Neither motivation is inherently wrong. Fear is legitimate. Death really does eliminate everything. Missing future developments really would be unfortunate. But building major life decisions primarily on fear rather than aspiration often leads to choices that don't ultimately satisfy.

Some people experience both push and pull. They fear death's finality and also genuinely want to continue existing because they value life itself. This mixed motivation might actually represent the healthiest foundation. You acknowledge mortality's serious stakes while also maintaining positive orientation toward future possibilities.

The balance between these motivations matters for another reason: revival context. If preservation works and you're revived decades or centuries later, your psychological relationship with that continuation will depend partly on what motivated preservation originally.

If you preserved primarily from fear, revival might feel like temporary reprieve rather than genuine new beginning. The same fears that drove initial preservation might persist or intensify in unfamiliar future contexts. You escaped death once but now face it again in circumstances you understand even less.

If you preserved primarily from hope and genuine desire for continuation, revival more likely feels like opportunity rather than just delayed reckoning. You wanted more life and now have it. The motivation that drove preservation aligns with the experience of its success.

Understanding your motivation also helps evaluate whether preservation actually serves your interests. Someone motivated primarily by terror of death might benefit more from therapy addressing death anxiety than from preservation arrangements. The terror might reflect psychological issues that preservation addresses symptomatically without resolving fundamentally.

Someone motivated by genuine love of life and curiosity about the future pursues preservation for reasons that align well with what preservation offers. They want what preservation potentially provides: more existence, more experiences, more learning and growth.

The distinction shows up in how people discuss their choice. Fear-motivated people often emphasize what they're avoiding: "I can't accept just ending," "I refuse to just disappear," "I won't let death erase me." The language centers on negation and refusal.

Hope-motivated people more often emphasize what they're pursuing: "I want to see what humanity becomes," "I love learning and want it to continue," "I'm curious about future possibilities." The language centers on desire and aspiration.

Both framings can lead to identical preservation arrangements, but they suggest different psychological relationships with the choice and different likely experiences of revival should it occur.

Your motivation also affects how you discuss preservation with others. Fear-driven motivation sometimes comes across as desperate or irrational, triggering defensive reactions in listeners. Hope-driven motivation often communicates more easily because it emphasizes positive values people generally understand: curiosity, love of life, desire for continued relationships.

This doesn't mean suppressing fear if that's what you feel. Honesty matters. But it does suggest that examining whether hope exists alongside fear, and emphasizing hope in how you frame the choice, may serve communication better.

The evolution of motivation matters too. Many people initially encounter cryopreservation through fear, their curiosity triggered by uncomfortable recognition of mortality. But as they investigate further, hope often emerges. They begin imagining future possibilities rather than just avoiding present endings. The motivation shifts from primarily push to primarily pull.

This evolution is healthy and suggests preservation might genuinely serve you. If investigation transforms fear into hope, if learning about possibilities creates enthusiasm rather than just relief from anxiety, you're likely making choices that align with your deeper values.

Conversely, if investigation only intensifies fear without generating hope, if preservation feels like desperate measure rather than desired possibility, that suggests pause. Fear alone rarely sustains healthy long-term decisions. You might benefit from addressing the anxiety itself before committing to preservation arrangements.

Some people never feel strong fear or strong hope. They approach preservation pragmatically: continuation seems preferable to cessation if possible, the costs seem reasonable, why not preserve options? This neutral motivation has its own validity. Not every significant choice requires intense emotion. Calm pragmatism sometimes reflects mature decision-making.

But even pragmatic choice benefits from examining what lies beneath the pragmatism. If you strip away social expectations and conventional thinking, what do you actually want regarding your continued existence? The answer might be genuinely neutral, which is fine. Or it might reveal hopes or fears you haven't fully acknowledged.

The question of which force moves you matters because it affects everything downstream: how you feel about the choice, how you communicate it to others, how you'd experience revival if it occurred, whether the decision ultimately serves your wellbeing. Fear and hope both have place in human motivation, but understanding which drives you helps ensure your choices genuinely reflect your values.

If you're considering preservation, spend time examining honestly whether you're primarily running from death or running toward continued life. The distinction might seem subtle but creates profoundly different relationships with one of the most significant choices you'll ever make. Choose from hope when possible. If fear dominates, consider whether addressing that fear directly might serve you better than arrangements that treat it symptomatically.