diff options
Diffstat (limited to '76774-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 76774-0.txt | 1832 |
1 files changed, 1832 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/76774-0.txt b/76774-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0367814 --- /dev/null +++ b/76774-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1832 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76774 *** + + + + + + THE FUTURE OF AN ILLUSION + + + THE INTERNATIONAL PSYCHO-ANALYTICAL LIBRARY + + EDITED BY ERNEST JONES + + No. 15 + + + + + THE FUTURE OF AN ILLUSION + + + SIGMUND FREUD, M.D., LL.D. + + TRANSLATED + BY + W. D. ROBSON-SCOTT + + PUBLISHED BY HORACE LIVERIGHT + AND THE INSTITUTE OF PSYCHO-ANALYSIS + MCMXXVIII + + + + + _Printed in Great Britain by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_ + + + + + TRANSLATOR’S NOTE + + +I wish to express my thanks to the Editor and to Mr. James Strachey for +reading through this translation and making many helpful suggestions. + + W. D. R.-S. + + + + + CHAPTER I + + +When one has lived for long within a particular culture[1] and has often +striven to discover its origins and the path of its development, one +feels for once the temptation to turn one’s attention in the other +direction and to ask what further fate awaits this culture and what +transformations it is destined to undergo. But one soon finds that the +value of such an enquiry is diminished from the outset by several +considerations. Above all, by the fact that there are only a few people +who can survey human activity in all its ramifications. Most people have +been compelled to restrict themselves to a single, or to a few, spheres +of interest; but the less a man knows of the past and the present the +more unreliable must his judgement of the future prove. And further it +is precisely in the matter of this judgement that the subjective +expectations of the individual play a part that is difficult to assess; +for these prove to be dependent on purely personal factors in his own +experience, on his more or less hopeful attitude to life, according as +temperament, success or failure has prescribed for him. And finally one +must take into account the remarkable fact that in general men +experience the present naïvely, so to speak, without being able to +estimate its content; they must first place it at a distance, _i.e._ the +present must have become the past before one can win from it points of +vantage from which to gauge the future. + +Footnote 1: + + The German word _Kultur_ has been translated sometimes as ‘culture’ + and sometimes as ‘civilization’, denoting as it does a concept + intermediate between these and at times inclusive of both.—ED. + +And so he who yields to the temptation to deliver an opinion on the +probable future of our culture will do well to remind himself of the +difficulties just indicated, and likewise of the uncertainty that +attaches quite universally to every prophecy. It follows from this that +in hasty flight from so great a task I shall seek out the small tract of +territory to which my attention has hitherto been directed, as soon as I +have defined its position in general. + +Human culture—I mean by that all those respects in which human life has +raised itself above animal conditions and in which it differs from the +life of the beasts, and I disdain to separate culture and +civilization—presents, as is well known, two aspects to the observer. It +includes on the one hand all the knowledge and power that men have +acquired in order to master the forces of nature and win resources from +her for the satisfaction of human needs; and on the other hand it +includes all the necessary arrangements whereby men’s relations to each +other, and in particular the distribution of the attainable riches, may +be regulated. The two tendencies of culture are not independent of each +other, first, because the mutual relations of men are profoundly +influenced by the measure of instinctual satisfaction that the existing +resources make possible; secondly, because the individual can himself +take on the quality of a piece of property in his relation to another, +in so far as this other makes use of his capacity for work or chooses +him as sexual object; and thirdly, because every individual is virtually +an enemy of culture, which is nevertheless ostensibly an object of +universal human concern. It is remarkable that little as men are able to +exist in isolation they should yet feel as a heavy burden the sacrifices +that culture expects of them in order that a communal existence may be +possible. Thus culture must be defended against the individual, and its +organization, its institutions and its laws, are all directed to this +end; they aim not only at establishing a certain distribution of +property, but also at maintaining it; in fact, they must protect against +the hostile impulses of mankind everything that contributes to the +conquest of nature and the production of wealth. Human creations are +easy to destroy, and science and technical skill, which have built them +up, can also be turned to their destruction. + +So one gets the impression that culture is something which was imposed +on a resisting majority by a minority that understood how to possess +itself of the means of power and coercion. Of course it stands to reason +that these difficulties are not inherent in the nature of culture +itself, but are conditioned by the imperfections of the cultural forms +that have so far been developed. Indeed it is not difficult to point out +these defects. While mankind has made solid advances in the conquest of +nature and may expect to make still greater ones, no certain claim can +be established for a corresponding advance in the regulation of human +affairs, and probably at every period, as again now, many men have asked +themselves whether this fragment that has been acquired by culture is +indeed worth defending at all. One might suppose that a reorganization +of human relations should be possible, which, by abandoning coercion and +the suppression of the instincts, would remove the sources of +dissatisfaction with culture, so that undisturbed by inner conflict men +might devote themselves to the acquisition of natural resources and to +the enjoyment of the same. That would be the golden age, but it is +questionable if such a state of affairs can ever be realized. It seems +more probable that every culture must be built up on coercion and +instinctual renunciation; it does not even appear certain that without +coercion the majority of human individuals would be ready to submit to +the labour necessary for acquiring new means of supporting life. One +has, I think, to reckon with the fact that there are present in all men +destructive, and therefore anti-social and anti-cultural, tendencies, +and that with a great number of people these are strong enough to +determine their behaviour in human society. + +This psychological fact acquires a decisive significance when one is +forming an estimate of human culture. One thought at first that the +essence of culture lay in the conquest of nature for the means of +supporting life, and in eliminating the dangers that threaten culture by +the suitable distribution of these among mankind, but now the emphasis +seems to have shifted away from the material plane on to the psychical. +The critical question is whether and to what extent one can succeed, +first, in diminishing the burden of the instinctual sacrifices imposed +on men; secondly, in reconciling them to those that must necessarily +remain; and thirdly, in compensating them for these. It is just as +impossible to do without government of the masses by a minority as it is +to dispense with coercion in the work of civilization, for the masses +are lazy and unintelligent, they have no love for instinctual +renunciation, they are not to be convinced of its inevitability by +argument, and the individuals support each other in giving full play to +their unruliness. It is only by the influence of individuals who can set +an example, whom the masses recognize as their leaders, that they can be +induced to submit to the labours and renunciations on which the +existence of culture depends. All is well if these leaders are people of +superior insight into what constitute the necessities of life, people +who have attained the height of mastering their own instinctual wishes. +But the danger exists that in order not to lose their influence they +will yield to the masses more than these will yield to them, and +therefore it seems necessary that they should be independent of the +masses by having at their disposal means of enforcing their authority. +To put it briefly, there are two widely diffused human characteristics +which are responsible for the fact that the organization of culture can +be maintained only by a certain measure of coercion: that is to say, men +are not naturally fond of work, and arguments are of no avail against +their passions. + +I know what objections will be brought against these arguments. It will +be said that the character of the masses, here delineated, which is +supposed to prove that one cannot dispense with coercion in the work of +civilization, is itself only the result of defective cultural +organization, through which men have become embittered, revengeful and +unapproachable. New generations, brought up kindly and taught to have a +respect for reason, who have experienced the benefits of culture early +in life, will have a different attitude towards it; they will feel it to +be their very own possession, and they will be ready on its account to +make the sacrifice in labour and in instinctual renunciation that is +necessary for its preservation. They will be able to do without coercion +and will differ little from their leaders. If no culture has so far +produced human masses of such a quality, it is due to the fact that no +culture has yet discovered the plan that will influence men in such a +way, and that from childhood on. + +It may be doubted whether it is possible at all, or at any rate just +now, in the present stage of our conquest of nature, to establish a +cultural organization of this kind; it may be asked where the throng of +superior, dependable and disinterested leaders, who are to act as +educators of the future generations, are to come from; and one may be +appalled at the stupendous amount of force that will be unavoidable if +these intentions are to be carried out. But one cannot deny the grandeur +of this project and its significance for the future of human culture. It +is securely based on a piece of psychological insight, on the fact that +man is equipped with the most varied instinctual predispositions, the +ultimate course of which is determined by the experiences of early +childhood. But the limitations of man’s capacity for education set +bounds to the efficacy of such a cultural transformation. One may +question whether and in what degree it would be possible for another +cultural milieu to efface the two characteristics of human masses that +make the guidance of men’s affairs so very difficult. The experiment has +not yet been made. Probably a certain percentage of mankind—owing to +morbid predisposition or too great instinctual vigour—will always remain +asocial, but if only one can succeed in reducing to a minority the +majority that is to-day hostile to culture, one will have accomplished a +great deal, perhaps indeed everything that can be accomplished. + +I should not like to give the impression that I have wandered far away +from the chosen path of my enquiry. I will therefore expressly assert +that it is far from my intention to estimate the value of the great +cultural experiment that is at present in progress in the vast country +that stretches between Europe and Asia. I have neither the special +knowledge nor the capacity to decide on its practicability, to test the +expediency of the methods employed, or to measure the width of the +inevitable gulf between intention and execution. What is there in course +of preparation eludes investigation, for which it is not ready; for this +our long consolidated culture presents the material. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + +We have glided unawares out of the economic plane over into the +psychological. At first we were tempted to seek the essence of culture +in the existing material resources and in the arrangements for their +distribution. But with the discovery that every culture is based on +compulsory labour and instinctual renunciation, and that it therefore +inevitably evokes opposition from those affected by these demands, it +became clear that the resources themselves, the means of acquiring them, +and the arrangements for their distribution could not be its essential +or unique characteristic; for they are threatened by the rebelliousness +and destructive passions of the members of the culture. Thus in addition +to the resources there are the means of defending culture: the coercive +measures, and others that are intended to reconcile men to it and to +recompense them for their sacrifices. And these last may be described as +the psychical sphere of culture. + +For the sake of a uniform terminology we will describe the fact that an +instinct cannot be satisfied as ‘frustration’, the means by which this +frustration is secured as ‘prohibition’, and the condition produced by +the prohibition as ‘privation’. Then the next step is to distinguish +between privations that do affect everybody and those that do not, those +that merely affect groups, classes, or even individuals. The former are +the oldest; with the prohibitions that cause them culture began, who +knows how many thousands of years ago, to detach itself from the +primordial animal condition of mankind. To our surprise we have found +that they are still operative, that they still form the kernel of the +hostility to culture. The instinctual wishes that suffer under them are +born anew with every child; there is a class of men, the neurotics, who +react already to this first group of frustrations by an asocial +attitude. Such instinctual wishes are those of incest, of cannibalism, +and of murder. It seems strange to classify these, in repudiating which +all men seem to be at one, with those others, about whose permissibility +or impermissibility in our culture there is so vigorous a dispute; but +psychologically one is justified in doing this. Nor is the attitude of +culture to these oldest instinctual wishes the same in each case; +cannibalism alone seems to be proscribed by everyone, and—to other than +analytic observation—completely overcome; the strength of the incest +wishes can still be perceived behind the prohibition; and under certain +conditions murder is still practised, indeed enjoined, by our culture. +It is possible that cultural developments lie before us, in which yet +other wish-gratifications, which are to-day entirely permissible, will +appear just as disagreeable as those of cannibalism do now. + +Already in these earliest instinctual renunciations a psychological +factor is involved, which remains of great importance for everything +that follows. It is not true to say that the human mind has undergone no +development since the earliest times and that in contrast to the +advances of science and technical skill it is still the same to-day as +at the beginning of history. We can point out one of these advances +here. It is in accordance with the course of our development that +external compulsion is gradually internalized, in that a special mental +function, man’s super-ego, takes it under its jurisdiction. Every child +presents to us the model of this transformation; it is only by that +means that it becomes a moral and social being. This strengthening of +the super-ego is a highly valuable psychological possession for culture. +Those people in whom it has taken place, from being the foes of culture, +become its supporters. The greater their number in a cultural community, +the more secure it is and the more easily can it dispense with external +coercion. Now the degree of this internalization differs widely in the +case of each instinctual prohibition. As far as the earliest demands of +culture, already mentioned, are concerned, the process of +internalization seems to have been to a great extent accomplished, if we +leave out of account the unwelcome exception of the neurotics. But the +case is altered when we turn to the other instinctual claims. One notes +with surprise and concern that a majority of men obey the cultural +prohibitions in question only under the pressure of external force, in +fact only where the latter can assert itself and for as long as it is an +object of fear. This also holds good for those so-called moral cultural +demands, which in the same way apply to everyone. The greater part of +what one experiences of man’s moral untrustworthiness is to be explained +in this connection. There are innumerable civilized people who would +shrink from murder or incest, and who yet do not hesitate to gratify +their avarice, their aggressiveness and their sexual lusts, and who have +no compunction in hurting others by lying, fraud and calumny, so long as +they remain unpunished for it; and no doubt this has been so for many +cultural epochs. + +If we turn to those restrictions that only apply to certain classes of +society, we encounter a state of things which is glaringly obvious and +has always been recognized. It is to be expected that the neglected +classes will grudge the favoured ones their privileges and that they +will do everything in their power to rid themselves of their own surplus +of privation. Where this is not possible a lasting measure of discontent +will obtain within this culture, and this may lead to dangerous +outbreaks. But if a culture has not got beyond the stage in which the +satisfaction of one group of its members necessarily involves the +suppression of another, perhaps the majority—and this is the case in all +modern cultures,—it is intelligible that these suppressed classes should +develop an intense hostility to the culture; a culture, whose existence +they make possible by their labour, but in whose resources they have too +small a share. In such conditions one must not expect to find an +internalization of the cultural prohibitions among the suppressed +classes; indeed they are not even prepared to acknowledge these +prohibitions, intent, as they are, on the destruction of the culture +itself and perhaps even of the assumptions on which it rests. These +classes are so manifestly hostile to culture that on that account the +more latent hostility of the better provided social strata has been +overlooked. It need not be said that a culture which leaves unsatisfied +and drives to rebelliousness so large a number of its members neither +has a prospect of continued existence, nor deserves it. + +The extent to which cultural rules have been internalized—to express it +popularly and unpsychologically: the moral level of the members—is not +the only psychical asset to be considered if one is estimating the value +of a culture. In addition there is its heritage of ideals and artistic +creations, that is to say, of the satisfactions they both yield. + +One will be only too readily inclined to include among the psychical +possessions of a culture its ideals, that is, its judgements of what are +its loftiest and its most ambitious accomplishments. It seems at first +as if these ideals would determine the achievements of the cultural +group; but the actual process would seem to be that the ideals are +modelled on the first achievements that the co-operation of internal +ability and external circumstances made possible, and that now these +first achievements are merely held fast by the ideal as examples to be +followed. The satisfaction the ideal gives to the members of the culture +is thus of a narcissistic nature, it is based on pride in what has +already been successfully achieved. To make this satisfaction complete +the culture compares itself with others which have applied themselves to +other tasks and have developed other ideals. On the strength of these +differences every culture claims the right to despise the rest. In this +way cultural ideals become a source of discord and enmity between +different cultural groups, as can be most clearly seen among nations. + +The narcissistic satisfaction provided by the cultural ideal is also one +of the forces that effectively counteract the hostility to culture +within the cultural group. It can be shared not only by the favoured +classes, which enjoy the benefits of this culture, but also by the +suppressed, since the right to despise those that are outside it +compensates them for the wrongs they suffer in their own group. True, +one is a miserable plebeian, tormented by obligations and military +service, but withal one is a Roman citizen, one has one’s share in the +task of ruling other nations and dictating their laws. This +identification of the suppressed with the class that governs and +exploits them is, however, only a part of a larger whole. Thus the +former can be attached affectively to the latter; in spite of their +animosity they can find their ideals in their masters. Unless such +relations, fundamentally of a satisfying kind, were in existence, it +would be impossible to understand how so many cultures have contrived to +exist for so long in spite of the justified hostility of great masses of +men. + +Different in kind is the satisfaction that art yields to the members of +a cultural group. As a rule it remains inaccessible to the masses, who +are engaged in exhausting labour and who have not enjoyed the benefits +of individual education. As we have long known, art offers substitutive +gratifications for the oldest cultural renunciations, still always most +deeply felt, and for that reason serves like nothing else to reconcile +men to the sacrifices they have made on culture’s behalf. On the other +hand, works of art promote the feelings of identification, of which +every cultural group has so much need, in the occasion they provide for +the sharing of highly valued emotional experiences. And when they +represent the achievements of a particular culture, thus in an +impressive way recalling it to its ideals, they also subserve a +narcissistic gratification. + +No mention has yet been made of what is perhaps the most important part +of the psychical inventory of a culture: that is to say, its—in the +broadest sense—religious ideas; in other words, the use of which will be +justified later, its illusions. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + +Wherein lies the peculiar value of religious ideas? + +We have spoken of the hostility to culture, produced by the pressure it +exercises and the instinctual renunciations that it demands. If one +imagined its prohibitions removed, then one could choose any woman who +took one’s fancy as one’s sexual object, one could kill without +hesitation one’s rival or whoever interfered with one in any other way, +and one could seize what one wanted of another man’s goods without +asking his leave: how splendid, what a succession of delights, life +would be! True, one soon finds the first difficulty: everyone else has +exactly the same wishes, and will treat one with no more consideration +than one will treat him. And so in reality there is only one single +person who can be made unrestrictedly happy by abolishing thus the +restrictions imposed by culture, and that is a tyrant or dictator who +has monopolized all the means of power; and even he has every reason to +want the others to keep at least one cultural commandment: thou shalt +not kill. + +But how ungrateful, how short-sighted after all, to strive for the +abolition of culture! What would then remain would be the state of +nature, and that is far harder to endure. It is true that nature does +not ask us to restrain our instincts, she lets us do as we like; but she +has her peculiarly effective mode of restricting us: she destroys us, +coldly, cruelly, callously, as it seems to us, and possibly just through +what has caused our satisfaction. It was because of these very dangers +with which nature threatens us that we united together and created +culture, which, amongst other things, is supposed to make our communal +existence possible. Indeed, it is the principal task of culture, its +real _raison d’être_, to defend us against nature. + +One must confess that in many ways it already does this tolerably well, +and clearly as time goes on it will be much more successful. But no one +is under the illusion that nature has so far been vanquished; few dare +to hope that she will ever be completely under man’s subjection. There +are the elements, which seem to mock at all human control: the earth, +which quakes, is rent asunder, and buries man and all his works; the +water, which in tumult floods and submerges all things; the storm, which +drives all before it; there are the diseases, which we have only lately +recognized as the attacks of other living creatures; and finally there +is the painful riddle of death, for which no remedy at all has yet been +found, nor probably ever will be. With these forces nature rises up +before us, sublime, pitiless, inexorable; thus she brings again to mind +our weakness and helplessness, of which we thought the work of +civilization had rid us. It is one of the few noble and gratifying +spectacles that men can offer, when in the face of an elemental +catastrophe they awake from their muddle and confusion, forget all their +internal difficulties and animosities, and remember the great common +task, the preservation of mankind against the supremacy of nature. + +For the individual, as for mankind in general, life is hard to endure. +The culture in which he shares imposes on him some measure of privation, +and other men occasion him a certain degree of suffering, either in +spite of the laws of this culture or because of its imperfections. Add +to this the evils that unvanquished nature—he calls it Fate—inflicts on +him. One would expect a permanent condition of anxious suspense and a +severe injury to his innate narcissism to be the result of this state of +affairs. We know already how the individual reacts to the injuries that +culture and other men inflict on him: he develops a corresponding degree +of resistance against the institutions of this culture, of hostility +towards it. But how does he defend himself against the supremacy of +nature, of fate, which threatens him, as it threatens all? + +Culture relieves him of this task: it performs it in the same way for +everyone. (It is also noteworthy that pretty well all cultures are the +same in this respect.) It does not cry a halt, as it were, in its task +of defending man against nature; it merely pursues it by other methods. +This is a complex business; man’s seriously menaced self-esteem craves +for consolation, life and the universe must be rid of their terrors, and +incidentally man’s curiosity, reinforced, it is true, by the strongest +practical motives, demands an answer. + +With the first step, which is the humanization of nature, much is +already won. Nothing can be made of impersonal forces and fates; they +remain eternally remote. But if the elements have passions that rage +like those in our own souls, if death itself is not something +spontaneous, but the violent act of an evil Will, if everywhere in +nature we have about us beings who resemble those of our own +environment, then indeed we can breathe freely, we can feel at home in +face of the supernatural, and we can deal psychically with our frantic +anxiety. We are perhaps still defenceless, but no longer helplessly +paralysed; we can at least react; perhaps indeed we are not even +defenceless, we can have recourse to the same methods against these +violent supermen of the beyond that we make use of in our own community; +we can try to exorcise them, to appease them, to bribe them, and so rob +them of part of their power by thus influencing them. Such a +substitution of psychology for natural science provides not merely +immediate relief, it also points the way to a further mastery of the +situation. + +For there is nothing new in this situation. It has an infantile +prototype, and is really only the continuation of this. For once before +one has been in such a state of helplessness: as a little child in one’s +relationship to one’s parents. For one had reason to fear them, +especially the father, though at the same time one was sure of his +protection against the dangers then known to one. And so it was natural +to assimilate and combine the two situations. Here, too, as in +dream-life, the wish came into its own. The sleeper is seized by a +presentiment of death, which seeks to carry him to the grave. But the +dream-work knows how to select a condition that will turn even this +dreaded event into a wish-fulfilment: the dreamer sees himself in an +ancient Etruscan grave, into which he has descended, happy in the +satisfaction it has given to his archæological interests. Similarly man +makes the forces of nature not simply in the image of men with whom he +can associate as his equals—that would not do justice to the +overpowering impression they make on him—but he gives them the +characteristics of the father, makes them into gods, thereby following +not only an infantile, but also, as I have tried to show, a phylogenetic +prototype. + +In the course of time the first observations of law and order in natural +phenomena are made, and therewith the forces of nature lose their human +traits. But men’s helplessness remains, and with it their father-longing +and the gods. The gods retain their threefold task: they must exorcise +the terrors of nature, they must reconcile one to the cruelty of fate, +particularly as shown in death, and they must make amends for the +sufferings and privations that the communal life of culture has imposed +on man. + +But within these there is a gradual shifting of the accent. It is +observed that natural phenomena develop of themselves from inward +necessity; without doubt the gods are the lords of nature: they have +arranged it thus and now they can leave it to itself. Only occasionally, +in the so-called miracles, do they intervene in its course, as if to +protest that they have surrendered nothing of their original sphere of +power. As far as the vicissitudes of fate are concerned, an unpleasant +suspicion persists that the perplexity and helplessness of the human +race cannot be remedied. This is where the gods are most apt to fail us; +if they themselves make fate, then their ways must be deemed +inscrutable. The most gifted people of the ancient world dimly surmised +that above the gods stands Destiny and that the gods themselves have +their destinies. And the more autonomous nature becomes and the more the +gods withdraw from her, the more earnestly are all expectations +concentrated on the third task assigned to them and the more does +morality become their real domain. It now becomes the business of the +gods to adjust the defects and evils of culture, to attend to the +sufferings that men inflict on each other in their communal life, and to +see that the laws of culture, which men obey so ill, are carried out. +The laws of culture themselves are claimed to be of divine origin, they +are elevated to a position above human society, and they are extended +over nature and the universe. + +And so a rich store of ideas is formed, born of the need to make +tolerable the helplessness of man, and built out of the material offered +by memories of the helplessness of his own childhood and the childhood +of the human race. It is easy to see that these ideas protect man in two +directions; against the dangers of nature and fate, and against the +evils of human society itself. What it amounts to is this: life in this +world serves a higher purpose; true, it is not easy to guess the nature +of this purpose, but certainly a perfecting of human existence is +implied. Probably the spiritual part of man, the soul, which in the +course of time has so slowly and unwillingly detached itself from the +body, is to be regarded as the object of this elevation and exaltation. +Everything that takes place in this world expresses the intentions of an +Intelligence, superior to us, which in the end, though its devious ways +may be difficult to follow, orders everything for good, that is, to our +advantage. Over each one of us watches a benevolent, and only apparently +severe, Providence, which will not suffer us to become the plaything of +the stark and pitiless forces of nature; death itself is not +annihilation, not a return to inorganic lifelessness, but the beginning +of a new kind of existence, which lies on the road of development to +something higher. And to turn to the other side of the question, the +moral laws that have formed our culture govern also the whole universe, +only they are upheld with incomparably more force and consistency by a +supreme judicial court. In the end all good is rewarded, all evil +punished, if not actually in this life, then in the further existences +that begin after death. And thus all the terrors, the sufferings, and +the hardships of life are destined to be obliterated; the life after +death, which continues our earthly existence as the invisible part of +the spectrum adjoins the visible, brings all the perfection that perhaps +we have missed here. And the superior wisdom that directs this issue, +the supreme goodness that expresses itself thus, the justice that thus +achieves its aim—these are the qualities of the divine beings who have +fashioned us and the world in general; or rather of the one divine being +into which in our culture all the gods of antiquity have been condensed. +The race that first succeeded in thus concentrating the divine qualities +was not a little proud of this advance. It had revealed the father +nucleus which had always lain hidden behind every divine figure; +fundamentally it was a return to the historical beginnings of the idea +of God. Now that God was a single person, man’s relations to him could +recover the intimacy and intensity of the child’s relation to the +father. If one had done so much for the father, then surely one would be +rewarded—at least the only beloved child, the chosen people, would be. +More recently, pious America has laid claim to be ‘God’s own country’, +and for one of the forms under which men worship the deity the claim +certainly holds good. + +The religious ideas that have just been summarized have of course gone +through a long process of development, and have been held in various +phases by various cultures. I have singled out one such phase of +development, which more or less corresponds to the final form of our +contemporary Christian culture in the west. It is easy to see that not +all the parts of this whole tally equally well with each other, that not +all the questions that press for an answer receive one, and that the +contradiction of daily experience can only with difficulty be dismissed. +But such as they are, these ideas—religious, in the broadest sense of +the word—are prized as the most precious possession of culture, as the +most valuable thing it has to offer its members; far more highly prized +than all our devices for winning the treasures of the earth, for +providing men with sustenance, or for preventing their diseases, and so +forth; men suppose that life would be intolerable if they did not accord +these ideas the value that is claimed for them. And now the question +arises: what are these ideas in the light of psychology; whence do they +derive the esteem in which they are held; and further, in all +diffidence, what is their real worth? + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + +An enquiry that proceeds uninterruptedly, like a monologue, is not +altogether without its dangers. One is too easily tempted to push aside +thoughts that would interrupt it, and in exchange one is left with a +feeling of uncertainty which one will drown in the end by +over-decisiveness. I shall therefore imagine an opponent who follows my +arguments with mistrust, and I shall let him interject remarks here and +there. + +I hear him saying: ‘You have repeatedly used the expressions “culture +creates these religious ideas”, “culture places them at the disposal of +its members”, which sounds strange to me somehow. I could not say why +myself, but it does not sound so natural as to say that culture has made +regulations about distributing the products of labour or about the +rights over women and children.’ + +I think, nevertheless, that one is justified in expressing oneself thus. +I have tried to show that religious ideas have sprung from the same need +as all the other achievements of culture: from the necessity for +defending itself against the crushing supremacy of nature. And there was +a second motive: the eager desire to correct the so painfully felt +imperfections of culture. Moreover, there is something particularly +apposite in saying that culture gives the individual these ideas, for he +finds them at hand, they are presented to him ready-made; he would not +be in a position to find them by himself. It is the heritage of many +generations which he enters into and which he takes over as he does the +multiplication table, geometry, etc. There is certainly a distinction in +this, but it lies elsewhere, and I cannot examine it at this point. The +feeling of strangeness that you mention may be partly accounted for by +the fact that this stock of religious ideas is generally offered as a +divine revelation. But that is in itself a part of the religious system, +and entirely leaves out of account the known historical development of +these ideas and their variations in different ages and cultures. + +‘Another point which seems to me more important. You would derive the +humanization of nature from the desire to put an end to human perplexity +and helplessness in the face of nature’s dreaded forces, and from the +necessity for establishing relations with, and finally influencing, +these forces. But this explanation seems to be superfluous. For +primitive man has no choice, he has no other way of thinking. It is +natural to him, as if innate, to project his existence outwards into the +world, and to regard all events that come under his observation as the +manifestations of beings who fundamentally resemble himself. It is his +only method of comprehension. And it is by no means self-evident, on the +contrary it is a remarkable coincidence, that he should succeed in +satisfying one of his great wants by thus indulging his natural +disposition.’ + +I do not find that so striking. For do you suppose that men’s +thought-processes have no practical motives, that they are simply the +expression of a disinterested curiosity? That is surely very improbable. +I believe, rather, that when he personifies the forces of nature man is +once again following an infantile prototype. He has learnt from the +persons of his earliest environment that the way to influence them is to +establish a relationship with them, and so, later on, with the same end +in view, he deals with everything that happens to him as he dealt with +those persons. Thus I do not contradict your descriptive observation; it +is, in point of fact, natural to man to personify everything that he +wishes to comprehend, in order that later he may control it—the +psychical subjugation as preparation for the physical—but I provide in +addition a motive and genesis for this peculiarity of human thought. + +‘And now yet a third point. You have dealt with the origin of religion +once before, in your book _Totem und Tabu_. But there it appears in a +different light. Everything is the son-father relationship; God is the +exalted father, and the longing for the father is the root of the need +for religion. Since then, it seems, you have discovered the factor of +human weakness and helplessness, to which indeed the chief part in the +formation of religion is commonly assigned, and you now transfer to +helplessness everything that was formerly father complex. May I ask you +to enlighten me on this transformation?’ + +With pleasure. I was only waiting for this invitation. But is it really +a transformation? In _Totem und Tabu_ it was not my purpose to explain +the origin of religions, but only of totemism. Can you from any +standpoint known to you explain the fact that the first form in which +the protecting deity revealed itself to men was that of an animal, that +a prohibition existed against killing or eating this animal, and that +yet it was the solemn custom to kill it and eat it communally once a +year? It is just this that takes place in totemism. And it is hardly to +the purpose to argue whether totemism should be called a religion. It +has intimate connections with the later god-religions; the totem animals +become the sacred animals of the gods; and the earliest, and the most +profound, moral restrictions—the murder prohibition and the incest +prohibition—originate in totemism. Whether or not you accept the +conclusions of _Totem und Tabu_, I hope you will admit that in that book +a number of very remarkable isolated facts are brought together into a +consistent whole. + +Why in the long run the animal god did not suffice and why it was +replaced by the human—that was hardly discussed in _Totem und Tabu_, and +other problems of the formation of religion find no mention there at +all. But do you regard such a limitation as identical with a denial? My +work is a good example of the strict isolation of the share that +psycho-analytic observation can contribute to the problem of religion. +If I am now trying to add to it the other, less deeply hidden, part, you +should not accuse me of inconsistency, just as before I was accused of +being one-sided. It is of course my business to point out the connecting +links between what I said before and what I now put forward, between the +deeper and the manifest motivation, between the father complex and man’s +helplessness and need for protection. + +These connections are not difficult to find. They consist in the +relation of the child’s helplessness to the adult’s continuation of it, +so that, as was to be expected, the psycho-analytic motivation of the +forming of religion turns out to be the infantile contribution to its +manifest motivation. Let us imagine to ourselves the mental life of the +small child. You remember the object-choice after the anaclitic type, +which psycho-analysis talks about? The libido follows the paths of +narcissistic needs, and attaches itself to the objects that ensure their +satisfaction. So the mother, who satisfies hunger, becomes the first +love-object, and certainly also the first protection against all the +undefined and threatening dangers of the outer world; becomes, if we may +so express it, the first protection against anxiety. + +In this function the mother is soon replaced by the stronger father, and +this situation persists from now on over the whole of childhood. But the +relation to the father is affected by a peculiar ambivalence. He was +himself a danger, perhaps just because of that earlier relation to the +mother; so he is feared no less than he is longed for and admired. The +indications of this ambivalence are deeply imprinted in all religions, +as is brought out in _Totem und Tabu_. Now when the child grows up and +finds that he is destined to remain a child for ever, and that he can +never do without protection against unknown and mighty powers, he +invests these with the traits of the father-figure; he creates for +himself the gods, of whom he is afraid, whom he seeks to propitiate, and +to whom he nevertheless entrusts the task of protecting him. Thus the +longing-for-the-father explanation is identical with the other, the need +for protection against the consequences of human weakness; the child’s +defensive reaction to his helplessness gives the characteristic features +to the adult’s reaction to his own sense of helplessness, _i.e_. the +formation of religion. But it is not our intention to pursue further the +development of the idea of God; we are concerned here with the matured +stock of religious ideas as culture transmits them to the individual. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + +Now to take up again the threads of our enquiry: what is the +psychological significance of religious ideas and how can we classify +them? The question is at first not at all easy to answer. Having +rejected various formulas, I shall take my stand by this one: religion +consists of certain dogmas, assertions about facts and conditions of +external (or internal) reality, which tell one something that one has +not oneself discovered and which claim that one should give them +credence. As they give information about what are to us the most +interesting and important things in life, they are particularly highly +valued. He who knows nothing of them is ignorant indeed, and he who has +assimilated them may consider himself enriched. + +There are of course many such dogmas about the most diverse things of +this world. Every school hour is full of them. Let us choose geography. +We hear there: Konstanz is on the Bodensee. A student song adds: If you +don’t believe it go and see. I happen to have been there, and can +confirm the fact that this beautiful town lies on the shore of a broad +stretch of water, which all those dwelling around call the Bodensee. I +am now completely convinced of the accuracy of this geographical +statement. And in this connection I am reminded of another and very +remarkable experience. I was already a man of mature years when I stood +for the first time on the hill of the Athenian Acropolis, between the +temple ruins, looking out on to the blue sea. A feeling of astonishment +mingled with my pleasure, which prompted me to say: then it really is +true, what we used to be taught at school! How shallow and weak at that +age must have been my belief in the real truth of what I heard if I can +be so astonished to-day! But I will not emphasize the significance of +this experience too much; yet another explanation of my astonishment is +possible, which did not strike me at the time, and which is of a wholly +subjective nature and connected with the peculiar character of the +place. + +All such dogmas as these, then, exact belief in their contents, but not +without substantiating their title to this. They claim to be the +condensed result of a long process of thought, which is founded on +observation and also, certainly, on reasoning; they show how, if one so +intends, one can go through this process oneself, instead of accepting +the result of it; and the source of the knowledge imparted by the dogma +is always added, where it is not, as with geographical statements, +self-evident. For instance: the earth is shaped like a globe; the proofs +adduced for this are Foucault’s pendulum experiment, the phenomena of +the horizon and the possibility of circumnavigating the earth. Since it +is impracticable, as all concerned realize, to send every school child +on a voyage round the world, one is content that the school teaching +shall be taken on trust, but one knows that the way to personal +conviction is still open. + +Let us try to apply the same tests to the dogmas of religion. If we ask +on what their claim to be believed is based, we receive three answers, +which accord remarkably ill with one another. They deserve to be +believed: firstly, because our primal ancestors already believed them; +secondly, because we possess proofs, which have been handed down to us +from this very period of antiquity; and thirdly, because it is forbidden +to raise the question of their authenticity at all. Formerly this +presumptuous act was visited with the very severest penalties, and even +to-day society is unwilling to see anyone renew it. + +This third point cannot but rouse our strongest suspicions. Such a +prohibition can surely have only one motive: that society knows very +well the uncertain basis of the claim it makes for its religious +doctrines. If it were otherwise, the relevant material would certainly +be placed most readily at the disposal of anyone who wished to gain +conviction for himself. And so we proceed to test the other two +arguments with a feeling of mistrust not easily allayed. We ought to +believe because our forefathers believed. But these ancestors of ours +were far more ignorant than we; they believed in things we could not +possibly accept to-day; so the possibility occurs that religious +doctrines may also be in this category. The proofs they have bequeathed +to us are deposited in writings that themselves bear every trace of +being untrustworthy. They are full of contradictions, revisions, and +interpolations; where they speak of actual authentic proofs they are +themselves of doubtful authenticity. It does not help much if divine +revelation is asserted to be the origin of their text or only of their +content, for this assertion is itself already a part of those doctrines +whose authenticity is to be examined, and no statement can bear its own +proof. + +Thus we arrive at the singular conclusion that just what might be of the +greatest significance for us in our cultural system, the information +which should solve for us the riddles of the universe and reconcile us +to the troubles of life, that just this has the weakest possible claim +to authenticity. We should not be able to bring ourselves to accept +anything of as little concern to us as the fact that whales bear young +instead of laying eggs, if it were not capable of better proof than +this. + +This state of things is in itself a very remarkable psychological +problem. Let no one think that the foregoing remarks on the +impossibility of proving religious doctrines contain anything new. It +has been felt at all times, assuredly even by the ancestors who +bequeathed this legacy. Probably many of them nursed the same doubts as +we, but the pressure imposed on them was too strong for them to have +dared to utter them. And since then countless people have been tortured +by the same doubts, which they would fain have suppressed because they +held themselves in duty bound to believe, and since then many brilliant +intellects have been wrecked upon this conflict and many characters have +come to grief through the compromises by which they sought a way out. + +If all the arguments that are put forward for the authenticity of +religious doctrines originate in the past, it is natural to look round +and see whether the present, better able to judge in these matters, +cannot also furnish such evidence. The whole of the religious system +would become infinitely more credible if one could succeed in this way +in removing the element of doubt from a single part of it. It is at this +point that the activity of the spiritualists comes in; they are +convinced of the immortality of the individual soul, and they would +demonstrate to us that this one article of religious teaching is free +from doubt. Unfortunately they have not succeeded in disproving the fact +that the appearances and utterances of their spirits are merely the +productions of their own mental activity. They have called up the +spirits of the greatest of men, of the most eminent thinkers, but all +their utterances and all the information they have received from them +have been so foolish and so desperately insignificant that one could +find nothing else to believe in but the capacity of the spirits for +adapting themselves to the circle of people that had evoked them. + +One must now mention two attempts to evade the problem, which both +convey the impression of frantic effort. One of them, high-handed in its +nature, is old; the other is subtle and modern. The first is the _Credo +quia absurdum_ of the early Father. It would imply that religious +doctrines are outside reason’s jurisdiction; they stand above reason. +Their truth must be inwardly felt: one does not need to comprehend them. +But this _Credo_ is only of interest as a voluntary confession; as a +decree it has no binding force. Am I to be obliged to believe every +absurdity? And if not, why just this one? There is no appeal beyond +reason. And if the truth of religious doctrines is dependent on an inner +experience which bears witness to that truth, what is one to make of the +many people who do not have that rare experience? One may expect all men +to use the gift of reason that they possess, but one cannot set up an +obligation that shall apply to all on a basis that only exists for quite +a few. Of what significance is it for other people that you have won +from a state of ecstasy, which has deeply moved you, an imperturbable +conviction of the real truth of the doctrines of religion? + +The second attempt is that of the philosophy of ‘As If’. It explains +that in our mental activity we assume all manner of things, the +groundlessness, indeed the absurdity, of which we fully realize. They +are called ‘fictions’, but from a variety of practical motives we are +led to behave ‘as if’ we believed in these fictions. This, it is argued, +is the case with religious doctrines on account of their unequalled +importance for the maintenance of human society.[2] This argument is not +far removed from the _Credo quia absurdum_. But I think that the claim +of the philosophy of ‘As If’ is such as only a philosopher could make. +The man whose thinking is not influenced by the wiles of philosophy will +never be able to accept it; with the confession of absurdity, of +illogicality, there is no more to be said as far as he is concerned. He +cannot be expected to forgo the guarantees he demands for all his usual +activities just in the matter of his most important interests. I am +reminded of one of my children who was distinguished at an early age by +a peculiarly marked sense of reality. When the children were told a +fairy tale, to which they listened with rapt attention, he would come +forward and ask: Is that a true story? Having been told that it was not, +he would turn away with an air of disdain. It is to be expected that men +will soon behave in like manner towards the religious fairy tales, +despite the advocacy of the philosophy of ‘As If’. + +Footnote 2: + + I hope I am not doing an injustice if I make the author of the + philosophy of ‘As If’ represent a point of view that is familiar to + other thinkers also. Cp. H. Vaihinger, _Die Philosophie des Als ob_, + Siebente und achte Auflage, 1922, S. 68: ‘We include as fictions not + merely indifferent theoretical operations but ideational constructions + emanating from the noblest minds, to which the noblest part of mankind + cling and of which they will not allow themselves to be deprived. Nor + is it our object so to deprive them—for as _practical fictions_ we + leave them all intact; they perish only as _theoretical truths_’ (C. + K. Ogden’s translation). + +But at present they still behave quite differently, and in past ages, in +spite of their incontrovertible lack of authenticity, religious ideas +have exercised the very strongest influence on mankind. This is a fresh +psychological problem. We must ask where the inherent strength of these +doctrines lies and to what circumstance they owe their efficacy, +independent, as it is, of the acknowledgement of the reason. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + +I think we have sufficiently paved the way for the answer to both these +questions. It will be found if we fix our attention on the psychical +origin of religious ideas. These, which profess to be dogmas, are not +the residue of experience or the final result of reflection; they are +illusions, fulfilments of the oldest, strongest and most insistent +wishes of mankind; the secret of their strength is the strength of these +wishes. We know already that the terrifying effect of infantile +helplessness aroused the need for protection—protection through +love—which the father relieved, and that the discovery that this +helplessness would continue through the whole of life made it necessary +to cling to the existence of a father—but this time a more powerful one. +Thus the benevolent rule of divine providence allays our anxiety in face +of life’s dangers, the establishment of a moral world order ensures the +fulfilment of the demands of justice, which within human culture have so +often remained unfulfilled, and the prolongation of earthly existence by +a future life provides in addition the local and temporal setting for +these wish-fulfilments. Answers to the questions that tempt human +curiosity, such as the origin of the universe and the relation between +the body and the soul, are developed in accordance with the underlying +assumptions of this system; it betokens a tremendous relief for the +individual psyche if it is released from the conflicts of childhood +arising out of the father complex, which are never wholly overcome, and +if these conflicts are afforded a universally accepted solution. + +When I say that they are illusions, I must define the meaning of the +word. An illusion is not the same as an error, it is indeed not +necessarily an error. Aristotle’s belief that vermin are evolved out of +dung, to which ignorant people still cling, was an error; so was the +belief of a former generation of doctors that _tabes dorsalis_ was the +result of sexual excess. It would be improper to call these errors +illusions. On the other hand, it was an illusion on the part of Columbus +that he had discovered a new sea-route to India. The part played by his +wish in this error is very clear. One may describe as an illusion the +statement of certain nationalists that the Indo-Germanic race is the +only one capable of culture, or the belief, which only psycho-analysis +destroyed, that the child is a being without sexuality. It is +characteristic of the illusion that it is derived from men’s wishes; in +this respect it approaches the psychiatric delusion, but it is to be +distinguished from this, quite apart from the more complicated structure +of the latter. In the delusion we emphasize as essential the conflict +with reality; the illusion need not be necessarily false, that is to +say, unrealizable or incompatible with reality. For instance, a poor +girl may have an illusion that a prince will come and fetch her home. It +is possible; some such cases have occurred. That the Messiah will come +and found a golden age is much less probable; according to one’s +personal attitude one will classify this belief as an illusion or as +analogous to a delusion. Examples of illusions that have come true are +not easy to discover, but the illusion of the alchemists that all metals +can be turned into gold may prove to be one. The desire to have lots of +gold, as much gold as possible, has been considerably damped by our +modern insight into the nature of wealth, yet chemistry no longer +considers a transmutation of metals into gold as impossible. Thus we +call a belief an illusion when wish-fulfilment is a prominent factor in +its motivation, while disregarding its relations to reality, just as the +illusion itself does. + +If after this survey we turn again to religious doctrines, we may +reiterate that they are all illusions, they do not admit of proof, and +no one can be compelled to consider them as true or to believe in them. +Some of them are so improbable, so very incompatible with everything we +have laboriously discovered about the reality of the world, that we may +compare them—taking adequately into account the psychological +differences—to delusions. Of the reality value of most of them we cannot +judge; just as they cannot be proved, neither can they be refuted. We +still know too little to approach them critically. The riddles of the +universe only reveal themselves slowly to our enquiry, to many questions +science can as yet give no answer; but scientific work is our only way +to the knowledge of external reality. Again, it is merely illusion to +expect anything from intuition or trance; they can give us nothing but +particulars, which are difficult to interpret, about our own mental +life, never information about the questions that are so lightly answered +by the doctrines of religion. It would be wanton to let one’s own +arbitrary action fill the gap, and according to one’s personal estimate +declare this or that part of the religious system to be more or less +acceptable. These questions are too momentous for that; too sacred, one +might say. + +At this point it may be objected: well, then, if even the crabbed +sceptics admit that the statements of religion cannot be confuted by +reason, why should not I believe in them, since they have so much on +their side—tradition, the concurrence of mankind, and all the +consolation they yield? Yes, why not? Just as no one can be forced into +belief, so no one can be forced into unbelief. But do not deceive +yourself into thinking that with such arguments you are following the +path of correct reasoning. If ever there was a case of facile argument, +this is one. Ignorance is ignorance; no right to believe anything is +derived from it. No reasonable man will behave so frivolously in other +matters or rest content with such feeble grounds for his opinions or for +the attitude he adopts; it is only in the highest and holiest things +that he allows this. In reality these are only attempts to delude +oneself or other people into the belief that one still holds fast to +religion, when one has long cut oneself loose from it. Where questions +of religion are concerned people are guilty of every possible kind of +insincerity and intellectual misdemeanour. Philosophers stretch the +meaning of words until they retain scarcely anything of their original +sense; by calling ‘God’ some vague abstraction which they have created +for themselves, they pose as deists, as believers, before the world; +they may even pride themselves on having attained a higher and purer +idea of God, although their God is nothing but an insubstantial shadow +and no longer the mighty personality of religious doctrine. Critics +persist in calling ‘deeply religious’ a person who confesses to a sense +of man’s insignificance and impotence in face of the universe, although +it is not this feeling that constitutes the essence of religious +emotion, but rather the next step, the reaction to it, which seeks a +remedy against this feeling. He who goes no further, he who humbly +acquiesces in the insignificant part man plays in the universe, is, on +the contrary, irreligious in the truest sense of the word. + +It does not lie within the scope of this enquiry to estimate the value +of religious doctrines as truth. It suffices that we have recognized +them, psychologically considered, as illusions. But we need not conceal +the fact that this discovery strongly influences our attitude to what +must appear to many the most important of questions. We know +approximately at what periods and by what sort of men religious +doctrines were formed. If we now learn from what motives this happened, +our attitude to the problem of religion will suffer an appreciable +change. We say to ourselves: it would indeed be very nice if there were +a God, who was both creator of the world and a benevolent providence, if +there were a moral world order and a future life, but at the same time +it is very odd that this is all just as we should wish it ourselves. And +it would be still odder if our poor, ignorant, enslaved ancestors had +succeeded in solving all these difficult riddles of the universe. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + +Having recognized religious doctrines to be illusions, we are at once +confronted with the further question: may not other cultural +possessions, which we esteem highly and by which we let our life be +ruled, be of a similar nature? Should not the assumptions that regulate +our political institutions likewise be called illusions, and is it not +the case that in our culture the relations between the sexes are +disturbed by an erotic illusion, or by a series of erotic illusions? +Once our suspicions have been roused, we shall not shrink from asking +whether there is any better foundation for our conviction that it is +possible to discover something about external reality through the +applying of observation and reasoning in scientific work. Nothing need +keep us from applying observation to our own natures or submitting the +process of reasoning to its own criticism. Here a series of enquiries +present themselves, which in their result should be of decisive +importance for constructing a ‘Weltanschauung’. We surmise, too, that +such an endeavour would not be wasted, and that it would at least +partially justify our suspicions. But the author of these pages has not +the means to undertake so comprehensive a task; forced by necessity, he +confines his work to the pursuit of a single one of these illusions, +that is, the religious. + +But now the loud voice of our opponent bids us to stop. We are called to +account for our transgressions. + +‘Archæological interests are no doubt most praiseworthy, but one does +not set about an excavation if one is thereby going to undermine +occupied dwelling-places so that they collapse and bury the inhabitants +under their ruins. The doctrines of religion are not a subject that one +can be clever about, as one can about any other. Our culture is built up +on them; the preservation of human society rests on the assumption that +the majority of mankind believe in the truth of these doctrines. If they +are taught that there is no almighty and all just God, no divine world +order, and no future life, then they will feel exempt from all +obligation to follow the rules of culture. Uninhibited and free from +fear, everybody will follow his asocial, egoistic instincts, and will +seek to prove his power. Chaos, which we have banished through thousands +of years of the work of civilization, will begin again. Even if one +knew, and could prove, that religion was not in possession of the truth, +one should conceal the fact and behave as the philosophy of “As If” +demands—and this in the interests of the preservation of everybody. And +apart from the danger of the undertaking, it is also a purposeless +cruelty. Countless people find their one consolation in the doctrines of +religion, and only with their help can they endure life. You would rob +them of what supports them, and yet you have nothing better to give them +in exchange. It has been admitted that so far science has not achieved +much, but even if it had advanced far further, it would not suffice for +men. Man has yet other imperative needs, which can never be satisfied by +cold science, and it is very strange—to be frank, it is the acme of +inconsistency—that a psychologist who has always emphasized how much in +men’s lives the intelligence retreats before the life of the instincts +should now strive to rob men of a precious wish-satisfaction, and should +want to give them in exchange a compensation of an intellectual nature.’ + +What a number of accusations all at once! However, I am prepared to deny +them all; and what is more, I am prepared to defend the statement that +culture incurs a greater danger by maintaining its present attitude to +religion than by relinquishing it. But I hardly know where to begin my +reply. + +Perhaps with the assurance that I myself consider my undertaking to be +completely harmless and free from danger. This time the overestimation +of the intellect is not on my side. If men are such as my opponents +describe them—and I have no wish to contradict it—then there is no +danger of a devout believer, overwhelmed by my arguments, being deprived +of his faith. Besides, I have said nothing that other and better men +have not said before me in a much more complete, forcible and impressive +way. The names of these men are well known. I shall not quote them. I +should not like to give the impression that I would count myself of +their number. I have merely—this is the only thing that is new in my +statement—added a certain psychological foundation to the critique of my +great predecessors. It is hardly to be expected that just this addition +will produce the effect that was denied to the earlier attempts. +Certainly I might be asked at this point why I write such things if I am +convinced of their ineffectiveness. But we shall come back to that +later. + +The one person this publication may harm is myself. I shall have to +listen to the most unpleasant reproaches on the score of shallowness, +narrow-mindedness, and lack of idealism and of understanding for the +highest interests of mankind. But on the one hand these remonstrances +are not new to me; and on the other hand, if a man has even in his early +years learnt to face the displeasure of his contemporaries, what effect +then can it have on him in his old age, when he is certain to be soon +beyond the reach of all favour or disfavour? In former times it was +different. Then utterances such as these brought with them a sure +foreshortening of one’s earthly existence and a speedy approach of the +opportunity to gain personal experience of the next life. But, I repeat, +those times are over, and to-day such things can be written without +endangering even the author; the most that can happen will be that in +this or that country the translation and the circulation of his book +will be forbidden—and naturally this will happen just in that country +which feels certain of the high standard of its culture. But one must be +able to put up with this also, if one makes any plea for +wish-renunciation or for acquiescence in fate. + +And then it occurred to me to ask whether the publication of this work +might not do some harm after all—not indeed to a person, but to a cause: +the cause of psycho-analysis. For it cannot be denied that this is my +creation, and that an abundance of distrust and ill-will has been shown +to it. If I now come forward with such displeasing statements, people +will be only too ready to displace their feelings from my person on to +psycho-analysis. Now one can see, it will be said, where psycho-analysis +leads to. The mask is fallen; it leads to the denial of God and of an +ethical ideal, as indeed we have always supposed. To keep us from the +discovery, we have been made to believe that psycho-analysis neither +has, nor can have, a philosophical standpoint. + +This pother will be really disagreeable to me on account of my many +fellow-workers, several of whom do not at all share my attitude to +religious problems. However, psycho-analysis has already braved many +storms, and it must face this new one also. In reality psycho-analysis +is a method of investigation, an impartial instrument like, say, the +infinitesimal calculus. Even if a physicist should discover with the +help of the latter that after a certain period the earth will be +destroyed, one would still hesitate to impute destructive tendencies to +the calculus itself, and to proscribe it on that account. Nothing that I +have said here against the truth-value of religion needed the support of +psycho-analysis; it had been said by others long before psycho-analysis +came into existence. If one can find a new argument against the truth of +religion by applying the psycho-analytic method, so much the worse for +religion, but the defenders of religion will with equal right avail +themselves of psycho-analysis in order to appreciate to the full the +affective significance of religious doctrines. + +And now to proceed with the defence: clearly religion has performed +great services for human culture. It has contributed much toward +restraining the asocial instincts, but still not enough. For many +thousands of years it has ruled human society; it has had time to show +what it can achieve. If it had succeeded in making happy the greater +part of mankind, in consoling them, in reconciling them to life, and in +making them into supporters of civilization, then no one would dream of +striving to alter existing conditions. But instead of this what do we +see? We see that an appallingly large number of men are discontented +with civilization and unhappy in it, and feel it as a yoke that must be +shaken off; that these men either do everything in their power to alter +this civilization, or else go so far in their hostility to it that they +will have nothing whatever to do either with civilization or with +restraining their instincts. At this point it will be objected that this +state of affairs is due to the very fact that religion has forfeited a +part of its influence on the masses, just because of the deplorable +effect of the advances in science. We shall note this admission and the +reasons given for it, and shall make use of it later for our own +purposes; but the objection itself has no force. + +It is doubtful whether men were in general happier at a time when +religious doctrines held unlimited sway than they are now; more moral +they certainly were not. They have always understood how to externalize +religious precepts, thereby frustrating their intentions. And the +priests, who had to enforce religious obedience, met them half-way. +God’s kindness must lay a restraining hand upon his justice. One sinned, +and then one made oblation or did penance, and then one was free to sin +anew. Russian mysticism has come to the sublime conclusion that sin is +indispensable for the full enjoyment of the blessings of divine grace, +and therefore, fundamentally, it is pleasing to God. It is well known +that the priests could only keep the masses submissive to religion by +making these great concessions to human instincts. And so it was +settled: God alone is strong and good, man is weak and sinful. +Immorality, no less than morality, has at all times found support in +religion. If the achievements of religion in promoting men’s happiness, +in adapting them to civilization, and in controlling them morally, are +no better, then the question arises whether we are right in considering +it necessary for mankind, and whether we do wisely in basing the demands +of our culture upon it. + +Let us consider the unmistakable character of the present situation. We +have heard the admission that religion no longer has the same influence +on men that it used to have (we are concerned here with European +Christian culture). And this, not because its promises have become +smaller, but because they appear less credible to people. Let us admit +that the reason—perhaps not the only one—for this change is the increase +of the scientific spirit in the higher strata of human society. +Criticism has nibbled at the authenticity of religious documents, +natural science has shown up the errors contained in them, and the +comparative method of research has revealed the fatal resemblance +between religious ideas revered by us and the mental productions of +primitive ages and peoples. + +The scientific spirit engenders a particular attitude to the problems of +this world; before the problems of religion it halts for a while, then +wavers, and finally here too steps over the threshold. In this process +there is no stopping. The more the fruits of knowledge become accessible +to men, the more widespread is the decline of religious belief, at first +only of the obsolete and objectionable expressions of the same, then of +its fundamental assumptions, also. The Americans who instituted the +monkey trial in Dayton have alone proved consistent. Elsewhere the +inevitable transition is accomplished by way of half-measures and +insincerities. + +Culture has little to fear from the educated or from the brain workers. +In their case religious motives for civilized behaviour would be +unobtrusively replaced by other and secular ones; besides, for the most +part they are themselves supporters of culture. But it is another matter +with the great mass of the uneducated and suppressed, who have every +reason to be enemies of culture. So long as they do not discover that +people no longer believe in God, all is well. But they discover it, +infallibly, and would do so even if this work of mine were not +published. They are ready to accept the results of scientific thought, +without having effected in themselves the process of change which +scientific thought induces in men. Is there not a danger that these +masses, in their hostility to culture, will attack the weak point which +they have discovered in their taskmaster? If you must not kill your +neighbour, solely because God has forbidden it and will sorely avenge it +in this or the other life, and you then discover that there is no God so +that one need not fear his punishment, then you will certainly kill +without hesitation, and you could only be prevented from this by mundane +force. And so follows the necessity for either the most rigorous +suppression of these dangerous masses and the most careful exclusion of +all opportunities for mental awakening or a fundamental revision of the +relation between culture and religion. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + +One would suppose that this last proposal could be carried out without +any special difficulty. It is true that it would involve some measure of +renunciation, but one would gain, perhaps, more than one lost, and a +great danger would be avoided. But people have a horror of it, as if +civilization would thereby be exposed to an even greater danger. When +Saint Boniface felled the tree which was venerated as sacred by the +Saxons, those who stood round expected some fearful event to follow the +outrage. It did not happen, and the Saxons were baptized. + +It is manifestly in the interest of man’s communal existence, which +would not otherwise be practicable, that civilization has laid down the +commandment that one shall not kill the neighbour whom one hates, who is +in one’s way, or whose property one covets. For the murderer would draw +on to himself the vengeance of the murdered man’s kinsmen and the secret +envy of the others who feel as much inward inclination as he did to such +an act of violence. Thus he would not enjoy his revenge or his spoil for +long, but would have every prospect of being killed soon himself. Even +if he could defend himself against single foes by his extraordinary +strength and caution, he would be bound to succumb to a combination of +these weaker foes. If a combination of this sort did not take place, +then murder would continue ceaselessly, and the end of it would be that +men would exterminate one another. It would be the same state of affairs +among individuals that still prevails in Corsica among families, but +otherwise survives only among nations. Insecurity of life, an equal +danger for all, now unites men into one society, which forbids the +individual to kill and reserves to itself the right to kill in the name +of society the man who violates this prohibition. This, then, is justice +and punishment. + +We do not, however, tell others of this rational basis for the murder +prohibition; we declare, on the contrary, that God is its author. Thus, +making bold to divine his intentions, we find that he has no wish, +either, for men to exterminate each other. By acting thus we invest the +cultural prohibition with a quite peculiar solemnity, but at the same +time we risk making its observance dependent on belief in God. If we +retract this step, no longer saddling God with our own wishes, and +content ourselves with the social justification for the cultural +prohibition, then we renounce, it is true, its hallowed nature, but we +also avoid endangering its existence. And we gain something else as +well. Through some kind of diffusion or infection the character of +sanctity and inviolability, of other-worldliness, one might say, has +been extended from some few important prohibitions to all other cultural +institutions and laws and ordinances. And often the halo becomes these +none too well; not only do they invalidate each other by making +conflicting decisions according to the time and place of their origin; +even apart from this they betray every sign of human inadequacy. One can +easily recognize among them things which can only be the product of +shortsightedness and apprehensiveness, the expression of narrow +interests, or the result of inadequate hypotheses. The criticism to +which one must subject them also diminishes to an unwelcome extent +people’s respect for other and more justified cultural demands. As it is +a delicate task to decide what God has himself ordained and what derives +rather from the authority of an allpowerful parliament or a supreme +judicial decision, it would be an indubitable advantage to leave God out +of the question altogether, and to admit honestly the purely human +origin of all cultural laws and institutions. Along with their +pretensions to sanctity the rigid and immutable nature of these laws and +regulations would also cease. Men would realize that these have been +made, not so much to rule them, as, on the contrary, to serve their +interests; they would acquire a more friendly attitude to them, and +instead of aiming at their abolition they would aim only at improving +them. This would be an important advance on the road which leads to +reconciliation with the burden of culture. + +But here our plea for a purely rational basis for cultural laws, that is +to say, for deriving them from social necessity, is interrupted by a +sudden doubt. We have chosen as our example the origin of the murder +prohibition. But does our account of it correspond to historical truth? +We fear not; it appears to be merely a rationalistic construction. With +the help of psycho-analysis we have studied this very point in the +history of human culture, and supported by this study we are bound to +say that in reality it did not happen like this. Even in men to-day +purely reasonable motives are of little avail against passionate +impulses. How much weaker, then, must they have been in the primordial +animal man! Perhaps even now his descendants would still kill one +another without inhibition, if there had not been among those acts of +murder one—the slaughter of the primal father—which evoked an +irresistible emotional reaction, momentous in its consequences. From it +arose the commandment: thou shalt not kill, which in totemism was +confined to the father-substitute, and was later extended to others, but +which even to-day is not universally observed. + +But according to arguments which I need not repeat here, that primal +father has been the prototype of God, the model after which later +generations have formed their figure of God. Hence the religious +explanation is right. God was actually concerned in the origin of that +prohibition; his influence, not insight into what was necessary for +society, brought it into being. And the process of attributing man’s +will to God is fully justified; for men, knowing that they had brutally +set aside the father, determined, in the reaction to their outrage, to +respect his will in future. And so the religious doctrine does give us +the historical truth, though of course in a somewhat remodelled and +disguised form; our rational explanation belies it. + +We now observe that the stock of religious ideas contains not only +wish-fulfilments, but also important historical memories. What +matchless, what abundant power this combination of past and present must +give to religion! But with the help of an analogy we may perhaps feel +our way towards another view of the problem. It is not a good thing to +transplant ideas far away from the soil in which they grew, but we +cannot resist pointing out the resemblance which forms this analogy. We +know that the human child cannot well complete its development towards +culture without passing through a more or less distinct phase of +neurosis. This is because the child is unable to suppress by rational +mental effort so many of those instinctual impulsions which cannot later +be turned to account, but has to check them by acts of repression, +behind which there stands as a rule an anxiety motive. Most of these +child neuroses are overcome spontaneously as one grows up, and +especially is this the fate of the obsessional neuroses of childhood. +The remainder can be cleared up still later by psycho-analytic +treatment. In just the same way one might assume that in its development +through the ages mankind as a whole experiences conditions that are +analogous to the neuroses, and this for the same reasons, because in the +ages of its ignorance and intellectual weakness it achieved by purely +affective means the instinctual renunciations, indispensable for man’s +communal existence. And the residue of these repression-like processes, +which took place in antiquity, has long clung on to civilization. Thus +religion would be the universal obsessional neurosis of humanity. It, +like the child’s, originated in the Oedipus complex, the relation to the +father. According to this conception one might prophesy that the +abandoning of religion must take place with the fateful inexorability of +a process of growth, and that we are just now in the middle of this +phase of development. + +So we should form our behaviour after the model of a sensible teacher, +who does not oppose the new development confronting him, but seeks to +further it and to temper the force of its onset. To be sure this analogy +does not exhaust the essence of religion. If on the one hand religion +brings with it obsessional limitation, which can only be compared to an +individual obsessional neurosis, it comprises on the other hand a system +of wish-illusions, incompatible with reality, such as we find in an +isolated form only in Meynert’s amentia, a state of blissful +hallucinatory confusion. But these are only just comparisons, with whose +help we can endeavour to understand social phenomena; individual +psychology supplies us with no exact counterpart. + +It has been shown repeatedly (by myself, and particularly by Theodor +Reik) into what details the analogy of religion and the obsessional +neurosis may be pursued, how much of the vicissitudes and peculiarities +of the formation of religion may be understood in this way. And it +accords well with this that the true believer is in a high degree +protected against the danger of certain neurotic afflictions; by +accepting the universal neurosis he is spared the task of forming a +personal neurosis. + +Our knowledge of the historical value of certain religious doctrines +increases our respect for them, but it does not invalidate our proposal +to exclude them from the motivation of cultural laws. On the contrary! +This historical residue has given us the conception of religious dogmas +as, so to speak, neurotic survivals, and now we may say that the time +has probably come to replace the consequences of repression by the +results of rational mental effort, as in the analytic treatment of +neurotics. One may prophesy, but hardly regret, that this process of +remodelling will not stop at dispelling the solemn air of sanctity +surrounding the cultural laws, but that a general revision of these must +involve the abolition of many of them. And this will go far to solve our +appointed problem of reconciling men to civilization. We need not regret +the loss of historical truth involved in accepting the rational +motivation of cultural laws. The truths contained in religious doctrines +are after all so distorted and systematically disguised that the mass of +mankind cannot recognize them as truth. It is an instance of the same +thing when we tell the child that new-born babies are brought by the +stork. Here, too, we tell the truth in symbolic guise, for we know what +that large bird signifies. But the child does not know it; he hears only +the distortion, and feels that he has been deceived; and we know how +often his refractoriness and his distrust of the grown-ups gets bound up +with this impression. We have come to the conclusion that it is better +to avoid such symbolic disguisings of the truth, and to allow the child +knowledge of the real state of affairs in a way suitable for his stage +of intellectual development. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + +‘You allow yourself contradictions which are hard to reconcile with one +another. First you declare that a work like yours is quite harmless; no +one will let himself be robbed of his religious faith through such +discussions. But since, as became evident later, it is your aim to +disturb this faith, one may ask: why in fact do you publish it? At +another point, however, you admit that it might be dangerous, indeed +very dangerous, for a man to discover that people no longer believe in +God. Docile though he had been hitherto, now he would throw off all +allegiance to the laws of culture. Your whole argument that the +religious motivation of the cultural commandments signifies a danger for +culture rests, in fact, on the assumption that the believer can be made +into an unbeliever. But that is a complete contradiction. + +‘And here is another contradiction: you admit on the one hand that man +will not be guided by intelligence; he is ruled by his passions and by +the claims of his instincts; but on the other hand you propose to +replace the affective basis of his allegiance to culture by a rational +one. Let who can understand this. To me it seems a case of either the +one or the other. + +‘Besides, have you learnt nothing from history? Once before such an +attempt to substitute reason for religion was made, officially and in +the grand manner. Surely you remember the French Revolution and +Robespierre, and also how short-lived and how deplorably ineffectual the +experiment? It is being repeated in Russia at present, and we need not +be curious about the result. Do you not think we may assume that man +cannot do without religion? + +‘You have said yourself that religion is more than an obsessional +neurosis. But you have not dealt with this other aspect of it. You are +content to work out the analogy with the neurosis. Men must be freed +from a neurosis. What else is lost in the process does not trouble you.’ + +Probably these apparent contradictions have arisen because I have been +dealing too hastily with complicated matters, but we can make up for +this to some extent. I still maintain that in one respect my work is +quite harmless. No believer will let himself be led astray by these or +by similar arguments. A believer has certain ties of affection binding +him to the substance of religion. There are certainly a vast number of +other people who are not religious in the same sense. They obey the laws +of civilization because they are intimidated by the threats of religion, +and they fear religion so long as they consider it as a part of the +reality that restricts them. These are the people who break free as soon +as they dare to give up their belief in its reality value; but arguments +have no effect on them either. They cease to fear religion when they +find that others do not fear it, and of these I have asserted that they +would learn of the decline of religious influence even if I did not +publish my work. + +But I suppose you yourself attach more value to the other contradiction +with which you tax me. Since men are so slightly amenable to reasonable +arguments, so completely are they ruled by their instinctual wishes, why +should one want to take away from them a means of satisfying their +instincts and replace it by reasonable arguments? Certainly men are like +this, but have you asked yourself whether they need be so, whether their +inmost nature necessitates it? Can an anthropologist give the cranial +index of a people whose custom it is to deform their children’s heads by +bandaging them from their earliest years? Think of the distressing +contrast between the radiant intelligence of a healthy child and the +feeble mentality of the average adult. Is it so utterly impossible that +it is just religious up-bringing which is largely to blame for this +relative degeneration? I think it would be a very long time before a +child who was not influenced began to trouble himself about God and the +things beyond this world. Perhaps his thoughts on these matters would +then take the same course as they did with his ancestors; but we do not +wait for this development; we introduce him to the doctrines of religion +at a time when he is neither interested in them nor capable of grasping +their import. Is it not true that the two main points in the modern +educational programme are the retardation of sexual development and the +early application of religious influence? So when the child’s mind +awakens, the doctrines of religion are already unassailable. But do you +suppose that it is particularly conducive to the strengthening of the +mental function that so important a sphere should be closed to it by the +menace of hell pains? We need not be greatly surprised at the feeble +mentality of the man who has once brought himself to accept without +criticism all the absurdities that religious doctrines repeat to him, +and even to overlook the contradictions between them. Now we have no +other means of controlling our instincts than our intelligence. And how +can we expect people who are dominated by thought-prohibitions to attain +the psychological ideal, the primacy of the intelligence? You know too +that women in general are said to suffer from so-called ‘physiological +weak-mindedness’, _i.e._ a poorer intelligence than the man’s. The fact +itself is disputable, its interpretation doubtful; but it has been +argued for the secondary nature of this intellectual degeneration that +women labour under the harshness of the early prohibition, which +prevented them from applying their mind to what would have interested +them most, that is to say, to the problems of sexual life. So long as a +man’s early years are influenced by the religious thought-inhibition and +by the loyal one derived from it, as well as by the sexual one, we +cannot really say what he is actually like. + +But I will curb my ardour and admit the possibility that I too am +chasing after an illusion. Perhaps the effect of the religious +thought-prohibition is not as bad as I assume, perhaps it will turn out +that human nature remains the same even if education is not abused by +being subjected to religion. I do not know, and you cannot know either. +It is not only the great problems of this life that seem at present +insoluble; there are many smaller questions also that are hard to +decide. But you must admit that there is here the justification for a +hope for the future, that perhaps we may dig up a treasure which can +enrich culture, and that it is worth while to make the experiment of a +non-religious education. Should it prove unsatisfactory, I am ready to +give up the reform and to return to the earlier, purely descriptive +judgement: man is a creature of weak intelligence who is governed by his +instinctual wishes. + +There is another point in which I wholeheartedly agree with you. It is, +to be sure, a senseless proceeding to try and do away with religion by +force and at one blow—more especially as it is a hopeless one. The +believer will not let his faith be taken from him, neither by arguments +nor by prohibitions. And even if it did succeed with some, it would be a +cruel thing to do. A man who has for decades taken a sleeping draught is +naturally unable to sleep if he is deprived of it. That the effect of +the consolations of religion may be compared to that of a narcotic is +prettily illustrated by what is happening in America. There they are now +trying—plainly under the influence of petticoat government—to deprive +men of all stimulants, intoxicants and luxuries,[3] and to satiate them +with piety by way of compensation. This is another experiment about the +result of which we need not be curious. + +Footnote 3: + + _I.e._ tea, alcohol, and tobacco. + +And so I disagree with you when you go on to argue that man cannot in +general do without the consolation of the religious illusion, that +without it he would not endure the troubles of life, the cruelty of +reality. Certainly this is true of the man into whom you have instilled +the sweet—or bitter-sweet—poison from childhood on. But what of the +other, who has been brought up soberly? Perhaps he, not suffering from +neurosis, will need no intoxicant to deaden it. True, man will then find +himself in a difficult situation. He will have to confess his utter +helplessness and his insignificant part in the working of the universe; +he will have to confess that he is no longer the centre of creation, no +longer the object of the tender care of a benevolent providence. He will +be in the same position as the child who has left the home where he was +so warm and comfortable. But, after all, is it not the destiny of +childishness to be overcome? Man cannot remain a child for ever; he must +venture at last into the hostile world. This may be called ‘_education +to reality_’; need I tell you that it is the sole aim of my book to draw +attention to the necessity for this advance? + +You fear, probably, that he will not stand the test? Well, anyhow, let +us be hopeful. It is at least something to know that one is thrown on +one’s own resources. One learns then to use them properly. And man is +not entirely without means of assistance; since the time of the deluge +science has taught him much, and it will still further increase his +power. And as for the great necessities of fate, against which there is +no remedy, these he will simply learn to endure with resignation. Of +what use to him is the illusion of a kingdom on the moon, whose revenues +have never yet been seen by anyone? As an honest crofter on this earth +he will know how to cultivate his plot in a way that will support him. +Thus by withdrawing his expectations from the other world and +concentrating all his liberated energies on this earthly life he will +probably attain to a state of things in which life will be tolerable for +all and no one will be oppressed by culture any more. Then with one of +our comrades in unbelief he will be able to say without regret: + + Let us leave the heavens + To the angels and the sparrows. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + +‘That does sound splendid. A race of men that has renounced all +illusions and has thus become capable of making its existence on the +earth a tolerable one! But I cannot share your expectations. And this, +not because I am the pig-headed reactionary you perhaps take me for. No; +it is because I am a sensible person. It seems to me that we have now +exchanged rôles; you prove to be the enthusiast, who allows himself to +be carried away by illusions, and I represent the claims of reason, the +right to be sceptical. What you have just stated seems to me to be +founded on errors, which after your precedent I may call illusions +because they betray clearly enough the influence of your wishes. You +indulge in the hope that generations which have not experienced the +influence of religious teaching in early childhood will easily attain +the wished-for primacy of the intelligence over the life of the +instincts. That is surely an illusion; in this decisive point human +nature is hardly likely to alter. If I am not mistaken—one knows so +little of other civilizations—there are even to-day peoples who do not +grow up under the pressure of a religious system, and they come no +nearer your ideal than the others. If you wish to expel religion from +our European civilization you can only do it through another system of +doctrines, and from the outset this would take over all the +psychological characteristics of religion, the same sanctity, rigidity +and intolerance, the same prohibition of thought in self-defence. +Something of this sort you must have in justice to the requirements of +education. For you cannot do without education. The way from sucking +child to civilized man is a long one; too many young people would go +astray and fail to arrive at their life tasks in due time if they were +left without guidance to their own development. The doctrines made use +of in their education will always confine the thought of their riper +years, exactly as you reproach religion with doing to-day. Do you not +observe that it is the ineradicable natural defect of our, of every, +culture that it imposes on the child, governed by his instincts and +intellectually weak, the making of decisions to which only the matured +intelligence of the grown-up can do justice? But owing to the fact that +mankind’s development through the ages is concentrated into a few years +of childhood culture cannot do otherwise, and it is only by affective +influence that the child can be induced to accomplish the task assigned +to it. And so this is the outlook for your “primacy of the intellect”. + +‘And now you should not be surprised if I intervene on behalf of +retaining the religious system of teaching as the basis of education and +of man’s communal life. It is a practical problem, not a question of +reality value. Since we cannot, for the sake of the preservation of our +culture, postpone influencing the individual until he has become ready +for culture—many would never be so anyhow—and since we are obliged to +press some system of teaching on the growing child which shall have the +effect on him of a postulate that does not admit of criticism, it seems +to me that the religious system is by far the most suitable for the +purpose; of course just on account of that quality—its power for +wish-fulfilment and consolation—by which you claim to have recognized it +as an “illusion”. In face of the difficulty of discovering anything +about reality, indeed the doubt whether this is possible for us at all, +we must not overlook the fact that human needs are also a part, and +indeed an important part, of reality, and one that concerns us +particularly closely. + +‘I find another advantage of religious doctrine in one of its +peculiarities, to which you seem to take particular exception. It admits +of an ideational refinement and sublimation, by which it can be divested +of most of those traces of a primitive and infantile way of thinking +which it bears. What is then left is a body of ideas which science no +longer contradicts and which it cannot disprove. These modifications of +religious doctrine, which you have condemned as half-measures and +compromises, make it possible to bridge the gap between the uneducated +masses and the philosophical thinker, and to preserve that common bond +between them which is so important for the protection of culture. With +it you would have no need to fear that the poor man would discover that +the upper strata of society “no longer believe in God”. I think I have +shown by now that your endeavour reduces itself to the attempt to +replace a proved and affectively valuable illusion by one that is +improved and without affective value.’ + +You shall not find me impervious to your criticism. I know how difficult +it is to avoid illusions; perhaps even the hopes I have confessed to are +of an illusory nature. But I hold fast to one distinction. My +illusions—apart from the fact that no penalty is imposed for not sharing +them—are not, like the religious ones, incapable of correction, they +have no delusional character. If experience should show—not to me, but +to others after me who think as I do—that we are mistaken, then we shall +give up our expectations. Take my endeavour for what it is. A +psychologist, who does not deceive himself about the difficulty of +finding his bearings in this world, strives to review the development of +mankind in accord with what insight he has won from studying the mental +processes of the individual during his development from childhood to +manhood. In this connection the idea forces itself upon him that +religion is comparable to a childhood neurosis, and he is optimistic +enough to assume that mankind will overcome this neurotic phase, just as +so many children grow out of their similar neuroses. These pieces of +knowledge from individual psychology may be inadequate, their +application to the human race unjustified, the optimism without +foundation; I grant you the uncertainty of all these things. But often +we cannot refrain from saying what we think, excusing ourselves on the +ground that it is given for no more than it is worth. + +And there are two points that I must dwell on a little longer. First, +the weakness of my position does not betoken any strengthening of yours. +I think you are defending a lost cause. We may insist as much as we like +that the human intellect is weak in comparison with human instincts, and +be right in doing so. But nevertheless there is something peculiar about +this weakness. The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not +rest until it has gained a hearing. Ultimately, after endlessly repeated +rebuffs, it succeeds. This is one of the few points in which one may be +optimistic about the future of mankind, but in itself it signifies not a +little. And one can make it a starting-point for yet other hopes. The +primacy of the intellect certainly lies in the far, far, but still +probably not infinite, distance. And as it will presumably set itself +the same aims that you expect to be realized by your God—of course +within human limits, in so far as external reality, Ἀνάγκη, allows +it—the brotherhood of man and the reduction of suffering, we may say +that our antagonism is only a temporary and not an irreconcilable one. +We desire the same things, but you are more impatient, more exacting, +and—why should I not say it—more selfish than I and those like me. You +would have the state of bliss to begin immediately after death; you ask +of it the impossible, and you will not surrender the claim of the +individual. Of these wishes our god Αόγος[4] will realize those which +external nature permits, but he will do this very gradually, only in the +incalculable future and for other children of men. Compensation for us, +who suffer grievously from life, he does not promise. On the way to this +distant goal your religious doctrines will have to be discarded, no +matter whether the first attempts fail, or whether the first +substitute-formations prove to be unstable. You know why; in the long +run nothing can withstand reason and experience, and the contradiction +religion offers to both is only too palpable. Not even the purified +religious ideas can escape this fate, so long as they still try to +preserve anything of the consolation of religion. Certainly if you +confine yourself to the belief in a higher spiritual being, whose +qualities are indefinable and whose intentions cannot be discerned, then +you are proof against the interference of science, but then you will +also relinquish the interest of men. + +Footnote 4: + + The twin gods Αόγος-Ἀνάγκη of the Dutchman _Multatuli_. + +And secondly: note the difference between your attitude to illusions and +mine. You have to defend the religious illusion with all your might; if +it were discredited—and to be sure it is sufficiently menaced—then your +world would collapse, there would be nothing left for you but to despair +of everything, of culture and of the future of mankind. From this +bondage I am, we are, free. Since we are prepared to renounce a good +part of our infantile wishes, we can bear it if some of our expectations +prove to be illusions. + +Education freed from the burden of religious doctrines will not perhaps +effect much alteration in man’s psychological nature; our god Αόγος is +not perhaps a very powerful one; he may only fulfil a small part of what +his forerunners have promised. If we have to acknowledge this, we shall +do so with resignation. We shall not thereby lose our interest in the +world and in life, for we have in one respect a sure support which you +lack. We believe that it is possible for scientific work to discover +something about the reality of the world through which we can increase +our power and according to which we can regulate our life. If this +belief is an illusion, then we are in the same position as you, but +science has shown us by numerous and significant successes that it is no +illusion. Science has many open, and still more secret, enemies among +those who cannot forgive it for having weakened religious belief and for +threatening to overthrow it. People reproach it for the small amount it +has taught us and the incomparably greater amount it has left in the +dark. But then they forget how young it is, how difficult its +beginnings, and how infinitesimally small the space of time since the +human intellect has been strong enough for the tasks it sets it. Do we +not all do wrong in that the periods of time which we make the basis of +our judgements are of too short duration? We should take an example from +the geologist. People complain of the unreliability of science, that she +proclaims as a law to-day what the next generation will recognize to be +an error and which it will replace by a new law of equally short +currency. But that is unjust and in part untrue. The transformation of +scientific ideas is a process of development and progress, not of +revolution. A law that was at first held to be universally valid proves +to be a special case of a more comprehensive law, or else its scope is +limited by another law not discovered until later; a rough approximation +to the truth is replaced by one more carefully adjusted, which in its +turn awaits a further approach to perfection. In several spheres we have +not yet surmounted a phase of investigation in which we test hypotheses +that have soon to be rejected as inadequate; but in others we have +already an assured and almost immutable core of knowledge. Finally an +attempt has been made to discredit radically scientific endeavour on the +ground that, bound as it is to the conditions of our own organization, +it can yield nothing but subjective results, while the real nature of +things outside us remains inaccessible to it. But this is to disregard +several factors of decisive importance for the understanding of +scientific work. Firstly, our organization, _i.e._ our mental apparatus, +has been developed actually in the attempt to explore the outer world, +and therefore it must have realized in its structure a certain measure +of appropriateness; secondly, it itself is a constituent part of that +world which we are to investigate, and readily admits of such +investigation; thirdly, the task of science is fully circumscribed if we +confine it to showing how the world must appear to us in consequence of +the particular character of our organization; fourthly, the ultimate +findings of science, just because of the way in which they are attained, +are conditioned not only by our organization but also by that which has +affected this organization; and, finally, the problem of the nature of +the world irrespective of our perceptive mental apparatus is an empty +abstraction without practical interest. + +No, science is no illusion. But it would be an illusion to suppose that +we could get anywhere else what it cannot give us. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Used numbers for footnotes. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76774 *** |
