St. George TALKS: Longevity L∞ps – Perspectives on the good life and meaning
In late April, as Hotel St. George marked its eighth anniversary, the Wintergarden filled with curiosity and focus rather than the usual birthday cheers. Three guests — a philosopher, a physian, and a pastor — gathered to ask a question that resists easy answers: what does a good, long life actually look like? Moderated by journalist Kaarle Hurtig, the discussion moved from the biological to the existential, from data to grief, from longevity culture to what people wish for at the very end.
"Without meaning, it doesn't matter how many steps you take in a day."
On length versus quality
The conversation opened with a provocation. If you could decide how long to live, what would you choose? Frank Martela, philosopher and associate professor at Aalto University, was characteristically precise: as long as life feels good. Riina Komonen, Medical Director at Hintsa Performance, had just taken an online longevity test that predicted she would live to 98. "That feels like a long time," she said, "but I'll take it if it's on offer."
The more interesting question, the panel agreed, is not how long but how well. Martela was direct about the trade-off: optimising for length at the expense of quality is rarely a good deal. "If the way to extend your life means that life stops being enjoyable, that's not obviously worth it." Komonen echoed this from clinical experience — most patients are far more concerned with whether their medication will stop them walking than with whether it adds two years to their life expectancy. The real work of medicine, she argued, is helping people remain capable and pain-free for as long as possible, not simply keeping them alive.
Viljamaa brought a different kind of evidence. More than three hundred funerals have given him a particular perspective on what a life amounts to. Duration, he suggested, is not always the defining measure. Every life, he said, traces its own arc — and a shorter arc can still be complete. "Even a brief life can be a full life."
On the trap of optimisation
One of the sharpest threads of the evening concerned what Martela called value capture — the way a rich, complex goal gradually gets replaced by the metric we use to measure it. He described a philosopher colleague who, in pursuit of academic prestige, found himself producing work he found genuinely boring. The original love of ideas had been hollowed out by the chase for the right journal, the right institution. "And then I wanted to die," the colleague had said.
The same dynamic, Martela suggested, plays out in how people approach their own health. The Oura ring on his finger, he admitted, was a point of contention in some philosophy circles. But the real risk is subtler: when the score matters more than how you actually feel, the instrument has taken over. Komonen agreed. She sometimes tells patients outright to stop optimising. "You're creating a stress loop trying to figure out what's wrong, when often there's nothing astronomically wrong. You're just not sleeping enough."
On loneliness — the underrated threat
The panel's most striking convergence came around the subject of loneliness. Martela cited research suggesting that sustained social isolation is roughly as damaging to life expectancy as smoking. Hurtig pushed further: unlike diet or exercise, loneliness isn't easily fixed by personal effort. It is shaped by forces — social fragmentation, the collapse of community structures, the way young people now increasingly socialise only within their own gender — that resist individual intervention.
Pastor Visa Viljamaa, who serves as acting parish priest in Munkkiniemi, brought a quieter observation to the table. Traditional communities — neighbourhoods, parishes, sports clubs, extended families — are under real pressure. And among young adults in particular, he sees something that looks like a growing hunger for belonging. "The need for community is becoming one of the biggest themes in people's wellbeing," he said. "And it will resonate with longevity too."
Martela added a dimension from his teaching at Aalto. When he asked student groups to discuss the rise in youth mental health struggles, every single group — across twenty or more sessions — named social media as a contributing factor. And when schools in Finland began banning phones at break time, something unexpected happened: children started playing outside again.
On meaning as the real foundation
The conversation's final movement turned towards what actually matters. As a pastor, Viljamaa works with people across every stage of life, including the end. When asked what people reflect on in those final moments, his answer was quiet and clear. "Very few have wished they had worked more." What he hears instead is a longing for meaning — a sense that the life lived was one's own, that it held something worth holding. "Death is worth thinking about. On one day you will die — but on every other day before that, you get to live."
Martela framed the same idea from his research. He described a youth worker whose clients — young people with serious substance use problems and genuinely shortened life expectancy — found their way out not through programmes, but through purpose. Some through faith, some through a relationship, some through discovering a vocation. "If all sources of meaning are missing from your life," he said, "what does it matter?" The intervention that worked was not medical. It was the arrival of something worth living for.
His closing thought distilled fifteen years of research into two lines: build connections with others. But remember to build a connection with yourself too.
St. George Talks: Longevity Loops was part of St. George's Week, celebrating the hotel's 8th anniversary in April 2026. A recording of the full conversation is available to watch below in Finnish.
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