What are Death Cafes and why are they gaining ground across Europe?

Although Death Cafes remain relatively small-scale, many organisers see them as incremental yet powerful agents of change.

Death Cafes—informal gatherings where individuals meet over tea and cake to discuss death openly—have expanded rapidly across Europe, offering an environment free of agenda or judgement. The movement has emerged as a compelling response to global unease around mortality, especially in the aftermath of the COVID‑19 pandemic.

The concept traces back to Switzerland in 2004, when sociologist Bernard Crettaz organised a “cafe mortel” for conversations about dying. It was later refined in the UK by British activist Jon Underwood, who hosted the first official Death Cafe in London in 2011 and went on to establish global guidelines and a central website for registered facilitators, according to the official website and BioMed Central.

Since then, more than 16,000 Death Cafes have been held in over 85 countries, including many across Europe and the UK alone, where more than 3,400 events have been identified.

Death Cafés are not therapy sessions or grief counselling, nor are they affiliated with any ideology. Participants typically gather in neutral venues—homes, cafes, community rooms—and share thoughts on mortality over refreshments. Organisers follow rules such as no agenda, no external pressure, and a commitment to confidentiality, democracy, and respectful listening, The Independent reported.

The COVID‑19 crisis spurred a significant increase in interest. Hosts in Europe and beyond reported full attendance lists and a rise in online events via Zoom and Facebook. One UK organiser noted, according to The Guardian, “People are being forced to face their own mortality every waking moment” The Guardian. Meanwhile, VOA News reported how participants shared grief around losses—not just from death, but from the end of relationships, illness or isolation.

Beyond personal reflection, Death Cafes are viewed by some researchers as a form of public health intervention, helping to dismantle stigma around death and promote grief literacy. A study published in BMC Health Services Research found that hosts and organisers across 34 countries valued the role of Death Cafes in rebuilding community resilience and normalising conversations about mortality and childhood grief.

Traditionally reticent societies such as Britain have begun to embrace death discourse through the cafe model. Opinion pieces in The Times highlighted how open dialogue around dying, planning, and legacy could ease emotional burdens and foster acceptance, challenging cultural taboos shaped by Victorian-era reticence The Times.

Attendees often find their experience unexpectedly uplifting. One participant in Liverpool, now a celebrant, described cafes as “safe and inclusive,” while another in London said, “I felt peace flood over me… I became more open, present and patient” after attending, according to the BBC. 

Although Death Cafes remain relatively small-scale, many organisers see them as incremental yet powerful agents of change. One facilitator summed it up: “There’s no one Death Cafe that’s going to make a huge change. It’s a cumulative effort… making cultural changes that are hard to do.”

As more people face grief, planning dilemmas, or simply existential questions, the Death Café movement continues to offer a rare space—one rooted in respect, vulnerability, and shared humanity.