In 1975, Raymond Moody introduced the world to a concept that would reshape how we think about death. In his groundbreaking book Life After Life, he gave a name to a pattern emerging from firsthand accounts: the Near-Death Experience.

After speaking with more than a hundred individuals who had been declared clinically dead and later revived, Moody noticed something striking—despite different backgrounds, their stories followed a remarkably similar structure. Many described moving through a tunnel, encountering an intense and radiant light, and meeting deceased loved ones. Almost all reported an overwhelming sense of peace that left a lasting impact on their lives.

Skeptics quickly offered biological explanations. Reduced oxygen levels, they argued, could produce tunnel-like vision. The brain might release chemicals that generate feelings of calm or euphoria. Activity in certain regions of the brain, particularly under stress, could create vivid imagery, including the appearance of familiar faces. For years, these interpretations were widely accepted.

But as time went on, a different kind of report began to surface—one that didn’t fit as neatly into those explanations. These accounts didn’t come from people who had nearly died. Instead, they came from individuals who were fully conscious, often sitting beside someone in their final moments, yet described experiencing the same phenomena: the light, the presence, the transition.

Moody gave these events a new name: shared death experiences.