Li Jiazhen Joelle, 17
School
Dunman High School
5 August 2026
Society’s attitude towards organ donation reveals more about its fears than its hopes.
Live On Festival 2026 Voter’s Choice
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_Li Jiazhen Joelle.webp)
School: Dunman High School
Topic: Society’s attitude towards organ donation reveals more about its fears than its hopes.
Organ Donation: Where Fear Reigns and Hope Others
Intro: Joke of the day? Many willing donors but a 9 year wait…
“OUT OF 799 INDIVIDUALS, 85% WERE AGREEABLE TO ORGAN DONATION AFTER DEATH AND 81% WERE WILLING TO ASSENT TO DONATIONS OF FAMILY MEMBERS’ ORGANS.”
“Singapore faces a shortage of organ donations; More than 500 patients waiting for a transplant.”
Believe it or not, these two jarringly different statements reflect our society’s sentiments. Organ donation, often touted as humanity’s purest acts, the ultimate expression of compassion where death gives way to renewed life. While encouraging statistics suggest that Singaporeans are embracing this ideal, moments of crisis often reveal the gap between what we profess and what we actually practice. In 2024, only 10% of the patients on the organ transplant waiting list received an organ, while the average wait stretched to nine years. These discouraging figures are not unique to Singapore; global organ supply meets less than 10% of demand. Thus, the reluctance towards organ donation tells a more complicated story: what society admires in principle, it too often resists in practice. Behind the hope of saving lives lies a darker, more powerful instinct: the fear of death, and surrender.
Death: knock knock
Y/N: Who’s that
Death: Death
Y/N: …Death WHO
At its core, society’s hesitation towards organ donation reveals more of humanity’s profound fear of emotional separation and loss than death itself. While not as extreme as pathological grief responses, such fears nonetheless continue to shape society’s reluctance towards organ donation. For many bereaved individuals, the act of organ donation symbolises not generosity but separation, a forceful acknowledgement that their loved one is no longer with them. Consequently, society’s over-entrenched fear of grief often eclipses the hopeful promise of saving lives. The death of a loved one connotes the loss of emotional security, comfort and companionship. Thus, when this sense of security is abruptly removed, one may turn to coping mechanisms such denial or emotional distancing to regain a sense of stability. For instance, Queen Victoria maintained Prince Albert’s Blue Room at Windsor Castle exactly as he left it for 40 years – fresh clothes on his bed and hot water delivered daily for his morning shave, refusing to accept his absence. Such actions distort reality, preserving the comforting illusion that one’s loved one is still alive.
However, organ donation discourages denial by forcing families to confront death in its starkest form. The extraction of organs becomes the finality of the deceased’s death. Affirming the finality of their death also turns the situation from a passive event into an active one, making organ donation appear as a painful and unnecessary extension of death itself. Therefore, to acknowledge the impermanence of life – that death is the only constant, this compels many to grapple with the unsettling notion that meaning can only emerge from loss rather than continuity. Thus, many choose to desperately cling to bodily preservation in an attempt to maintain some form of psychological proximity. This also allows them to gain a fleeting feeling of control, which momentarily enables them to reject the idea that life had an eventual ending. Thus, while organ donation should symbolise transformational hope and an honorable act that breathes new life into the lives of others, its altruistic and noble intents are often overshadowed when one faces emotional turmoil but yet is made to face death, With the gnawing fear of uncertainty, existential discomfort and emotional pain dominating the emotional control centre when encountering death, individuals tend to prioritise their basic instinct for self-preservation. They seek to protect their personal feelings before considering the interests and hopes of the wider community, revealing that fear often dominates human responses to death.
The True Enemy – IGNORANCE
Secondly, organ donation, as a medical procedure, can feel intimidating and alien. Usually taking place in sterile hospitals, surrounded by the cold precision of machines and involving the use of technical language, it is no surprise that the nature of organ donation itself has the potential to breed misunderstanding and fear. For instance, in the circumstance of brain death, many families tend to mistake it for a coma, believing that the stable heartbeats on the monitor are a definitive sign of hope. Yet, in reality, that heartbeat is sustained entirely by machines; brain death is irreversible, it is the complete cessation of brain activity. Thus, when doctors retrieve organs from a brain-dead patient, grieving families may interpret this move as the medical team having “given up” – not to save a life, but to steal it from their “conscious” loved one. This perception is also compounded by urgency: the window for organ retrieval is narrow, often just 24 to 72 hours. Thus, this may compel the medical team to attempt to expedite the process of organ donation while families are left to grapple with such a short timeline. As a result, shock coupled with immense grief may narrow thinking, allowing fear to be the only response.
Furthermore, in many countries, there is a consent process prior to organ donation. Families are often asked to sign legal documents within hours of a death, yet these papers are often filled with clinical terms that may feel cold and impersonal. To grieving families, phrases like “organ procurement” and “donor eligibility” may cause them to feel as if their loved ones were reduced to just another specimen to be retrieved for their tissue and organs, ultimately stripping away their personhood. Hence, such a seemingly unfeeling way of handling the process of organ donation may deepen families’ distrust, fearing that hospitals prioritise organ retrieval over patient care. These misunderstandings reflect a deeper human refusal to accept finality. A beating heart feels like life, even when the person is gone. To deny that visual cue is to deny what our senses tell us, and that cognitive dissonance breeds fear. Yet, it is to be noted that none of these fears ultimately stem from the procedure itself. They stem from what people do not understand: The real enemy is not organ donation – it is the information gap that turns confusion into terror.
The Unlikeliest Union: Faith & Organ donation – Martyrs of Hope
Yet, there have been genuine grounds for hope. Historically, some communities have had strong cultural and religious reservations pertaining to organ donation. For instance, in nations dominated by Asian cultures, individuals may have more conservative outlooks on organ donation. A prospective Hindu living donor may fear that organ donation alters the physical body before the soul’s departure, potentially affecting reincarnation or bringing karmic consequences if the recipient misuses it. Still, what our fears are today can be understood differently and quelled tomorrow, for human perspective is always capable of growth. For example, the religion of Islam exercises a more conservative view on bodily preservation. This has led to the exclusion of Muslims from the Human Organ Transplant Act (HOTA) which governs the donation and transplantation of human organs. Yet, as far back as 2007, a ruling by the fatwa committee of Majlis Ugama Islam Singapura (MUIS) clarified that organ donation is not a violation of one’s faith but rather a noble act that honours one of Islam’s highest values: the preservation of life. And this, in itself, is a display of hope in the highest order. In a world where difference feels like the only constant, the willingness to reconsider long-held belief is itself an act of hope. Yet, going that extra mile to create tangible changes ultimately exemplifies a deeper sense of hope; one that manifests not just in our hearts but in brave, bold actions harnessing a simple determination for the greater good. In this sense, this shift within the Muslim community is not merely a change in belief, but hard evidence of how when communities are met with respect, understanding and thoughtfulness, even once deeply rooted fears can soften into acceptance. Singapore’s multiculturalism need not be an obstacle to progression, but a strong reminder that communities can not only be grounded in their personal traditions and beliefs but also compassion and a shared humanity, where saving lives is no longer constrained by misunderstanding but a common altruistic duty. As such, this is where true hope lies: where faith and benevolence stand as one, and hope becomes not just a dream but reality.
Conclusion
Dear Society,
The ball is in your court. Your move?
Society’s attitude towards organ donation exposes the trembling fault line we walk between fear and hope. Fear may put many in a chokehold, forcing us to hesitate, question and eventually retreat. However, it should never hold the final word over life. If the community simply chooses trust over comfort and courage over silence, organ donation ceases to be merely a societal challenge – it becomes a defiant act of humanity and a testament to who we are willing to be. Because ultimately, the greatest tragedy of this story would not be death itself – but the moment we allow fear to steal the gift of hope and a renewed life.
References
3. https://www.william-russell.com/blog/organ-donation-worldwide/ (opens in new tab)
Disclaimer: Please note that the views and opinions expressed in the essays for the Live On Festival 2026 are those of the participants and are not endorsed by the National Organ Transplant Unit (Ministry of Health).
To learn more about organ donation and organ transplantation in Singapore, please visit www.liveon.gov.sg (opens in new tab)
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