5

Psycho-analytic work has shown that these frustrations in respect of sexual life are especially unendurable to the so-called neurotics among us. These persons manufacture substitute-gratifications for themselves in their symptoms, which, however, are either painful in themselves or become the cause of suffering owing to the difficulties they create with the person’s environment and society at large. It is easy to understand the latter fact, but the former presents us with a new problem. But culture demands other sacrifices besides that of sexual gratifications.

Psychoanalytic work has shown that these frustrations in sexual life are especially unbearable for the so-called neurotics among us. These people create substitute satisfactions for themselves through their symptoms. But the symptoms are either painful in themselves or cause suffering by creating difficulties with their surroundings and society at large. The suffering caused by these difficulties is easy to understand. But the pain caused by the symptoms themselves presents a new problem. Culture, however, demands sacrifices beyond giving up sexual satisfaction.

We have regarded the difficulties in the development of civilization as part of the general difficulty accompanying all evolution, for we have traced them to the inertia of libido, its disinclination to relinquish an old position in favour of a new one. It is much the same thing if we say that the conflict between civilization and sexuality is caused by the circumstance that sexual love is a relationship between two people, in which a third can only be superfluous or disturbing, whereas civilization is founded on relations between larger groups of persons. When a love-relationship is at its height no room is left for any interest in the surrounding world; the pair of lovers are sufficient unto themselves, do not even need the child they have in common to make them happy. In no other case does Eros so plainly betray the core of his being, his aim of making one out of many; but when he has achieved it in the proverbial way through the love of two human beings, he is not willing to go further.

We have seen the difficulties in civilization’s development as part of the general difficulty that accompanies all evolution. We have traced these difficulties to the inertia of libido, its reluctance to abandon an old position for a new one. We are saying much the same thing if we explain the conflict between civilization and sexuality as follows. Sexual love is a relationship between two people, where a third person can only be unnecessary or disruptive. Civilization, by contrast, is built on relationships among larger groups of people. When a loving relationship is at its height, there is no room for any interest in the surrounding world. The two lovers are enough for each other. They do not even need their shared child to make them happy. In no other situation does Eros reveal his essential nature so clearly: his aim is to make one from many. But when Eros achieves this unity through the love of two people, in the proverbial way, he is unwilling to go further.

From all this we might well imagine that a civilized community could consist of pairs of individuals such as this, libidinally satisfied in each other, and linked to all the others by work and common interests. If this were so, culture would not need to levy energy from sexuality. But such a desirable state of things does not exist and never has existed; in actuality culture is not content with such limited ties as these; we see that it endeavours to bind the members of the community to one another by libidinal ties as well, that it makes use of every means and favours every avenue by which powerful identifications can be created among them, and that it exacts a heavy toll of aim-inhibited libido in order to strengthen communities by bonds of friendship between the members. Restrictions upon sexual life are unavoidable if this object is to be attained. But we cannot see the necessity that forces culture along this path and gives rise to its antagonism to sexuality. It must be due to some disturbing influence not yet detected by us.

From all this, we might well imagine a civilized community made up of couples like these, sexually satisfied with each other. Work and shared interests would connect each couple to everyone else. If that were so, culture would not need to draw energy from sexuality. But this desirable state of affairs does not exist and never has. In reality, culture is not satisfied with such limited ties. We see that culture also tries to bind community members to one another through libidinal ties. Culture uses every means and encourages every approach that can create strong identifications among them. Culture also demands a large share of libido diverted from its sexual aims to strengthen communities through bonds of friendship. Restrictions on sexual life are unavoidable if this goal is to be achieved. But we cannot see what necessity forces culture down this path and makes culture hostile to sexuality. Some disturbing influence that we have not yet detected must be responsible.

We may find the clue in one of the so-called ideal standards of civilized society. It runs: ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself’. It is world-renowned, undoubtedly older than Christianity which parades it as its proudest profession, yet certainly not very old; in historical times men still knew nothing of it. We will adopt a naïve attitude towards it, as if we were meeting it for the first time. Thereupon we find ourselves unable to suppress a feeling of astonishment, as at something unnatural. Why should we do this? What good is it to us? Above all, how can we do such a thing? How could it possibly be done? My love seems to me a valuable thing that I have no right to throw away without reflection. It imposes obligations on me which I must be prepared to make sacrifices to fulfil. If I love someone, he must be worthy of it in some way or other. (I am leaving out of account now the use he may be to me, as well as his possible significance to me as a sexual object; neither of these two kinds of relationship between us come into question where the injunction to love my neighbour is concerned.) He will be worthy of it if he is so like me in important respects that I can love myself in him; worthy of it if he is so much more perfect than I that I can love my ideal of myself in him; I must love him if he is the son of my friend, since the pain my friend would feel if anything untoward happened to him would be my pain—I should have to share it. But if he is a stranger to me and cannot attract me by any value he has in himself or any significance he may have already acquired in my emotional life, it will be hard for me to love him. I shall even be doing wrong if I do, for my love is valued as a privilege by all those belonging to me; it is an injustice to them if I put a stranger on a level with them. But if I am to love him (with that kind of universal love) simply because he, too, is a denizen of the earth, like an insect or an earthworm or a grass-snake, then I fear that but a small modicum of love will fall to his lot and it would be impossible for me to give him as much as by all the laws of reason I am entitled to retain for myself. What is the point of an injunction promulgated with such solemnity, if reason does not recommend it to us?

We may find the clue in one of civilized society’s so-called ideal standards. It says: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself’. This command is known worldwide and is undoubtedly older than Christianity, which proudly presents it as its highest principle. Yet the command is certainly not very old. Even within recorded history, people still knew nothing of it. Let us approach the command naively, as if encountering it for the first time. We cannot help feeling astonished, as though faced with something unnatural. Why should we do this? What good does loving our neighbour do us? Above all, how can we love our neighbour as ourselves? How could that possibly be done? My love seems to me something valuable, which I have no right to give away without thought. Loving someone places obligations on me, and I must be ready to make sacrifices to meet those obligations. If I love someone, he must deserve my love in some way. (For now, I am setting aside his usefulness to me and his possible importance as an object of sexual desire. Neither kind of relationship is relevant to the command to love my neighbour.) He will deserve my love if he resembles me enough in important ways for me to love myself in him. He will deserve my love if he is so much more perfect than I am that he embodies my ideal self. I must love him if he is my friend’s son. If anything bad happened to him, my friend’s pain would be my pain. I would have to share my friend’s pain. But suppose he is a stranger to me. Suppose neither his own qualities nor any place he already holds in my emotional life can draw me to him. Then loving him will be hard. I would even be doing wrong to love him. Everyone close to me values my love as a privilege. Putting a stranger on the same level would be unfair to them. But suppose I must love him with that universal love simply because he, too, lives on earth. In that respect, he is like an insect, an earthworm, or a grass-snake. Then I fear he will receive only a tiny share of love. I could not give him as much love as reason fully entitles me to keep for myself. What is the point of a command announced so solemnly if reason gives us no grounds to follow it?

When I look more closely I find still further difficulties. Not merely is this stranger on the whole not worthy of love, but, to be honest, I must confess he has more claim to my hostility, even to my hatred. He does not seem to have the least trace of love for me, does not show me the slightest consideration. If it will do him any good, he has no hesitation in injuring me, never even asking himself whether the amount of advantage he gains by it bears any proportion to the amount of wrong done to me. What is more, he does not even need to get an advantage from it; if he can merely get a little pleasure out of it, he thinks nothing of jeering at me, insulting me, slandering me, showing his power over me; and the more secure he feels himself, or the more helpless I am, with so much more certainty can I expect this behaviour from him towards me. If he behaved differently, if he showed me consideration and did not molest me, I should in any case, without the aforesaid commandment, be willing to treat him similarly. If the high-sounding ordinance had run: ‘Love thy neighbour as thy neighbour loves thee’, I should not take objection to it. And there is a second commandment that seems to me even more incomprehensible, and arouses still stronger opposition in me. It is: ‘Love thine enemies’. When I think it over, however, I am wrong in treating it as a greater imposition. It is at bottom the same thing.⁠¹⁶

When I look more closely, I find still more difficulties. On the whole, this stranger is not worthy of love. Indeed, to be honest, I must admit he gives me more reason for hostility, even hatred. He seems to have no love for me at all and shows me not the slightest consideration. If harming me will benefit him, he has no hesitation about doing so. He never even asks whether his gain is in any way proportionate to the harm he does me. What is more, he does not even need to gain anything. If he can get just a little pleasure from it, he thinks nothing of mocking, insulting, or slandering me. For the same reason, he thinks nothing of showing his power over me. And the safer he feels, or the more helpless I am, the more certainly I can expect such treatment. If he behaved differently, showing me consideration and not troubling me, I would be willing to treat him the same way. I would be willing even without the commandment mentioned earlier. If that grand-sounding commandment had said, ‘Love your neighbour as your neighbour loves you’, I would have no objection. And there is a second commandment that seems even harder to understand and stirs even stronger opposition in me. It says: ‘Love your enemies’. When I think about it, however, I am wrong to treat this second commandment as a greater demand. At heart, the two commandments mean the same thing.⁠¹⁶

I imagine now I hear a voice gravely adjuring me: ‘Just because thy neighbour is not worthy of thy love, is probably full of enmity towards thee, thou shouldst love him as thyself’. I then perceive the case to be like that of Credo quia absurdum.

Now I imagine hearing a voice solemnly urging me: ‘Precisely because your neighbour does not deserve your love, and probably hates you, you should love him as yourself’. I then see that this is like Credo quia absurdum.

Now it is, of course, very probable that my neighbour, when he is commanded to love me as himself, will answer exactly as I have done and reject me for the same reasons. I hope he will not have the same objective grounds for doing so, but he will hope so as well. Even so, there are variations in men’s behaviour which ethics, disregarding the fact that they are determined, classifies as ‘good’ and ‘evil’. As long as these undeniable variations have not been abolished, conformity to the highest ethical standards constitutes a betrayal of the interests of culture, for it puts a direct premium on wickedness. One is irresistibly reminded here of an incident in the French Chamber when capital punishment was being discussed; the speech of a member who had passionately supported its abolition was being applauded with loud acclamation, when suddenly a voice was heard calling out from the back of the room, ‘Que messieurs les assassins commencent!’

Of course, my neighbour will very probably respond exactly as I have when told to love me as himself. He will reject me for the same reasons. I hope he will not have the same objective grounds for rejecting me, but he will have the same hope. Even so, people’s behaviour differs in ways that ethics labels ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Ethics ignores the fact that these differences have causes that determine them. As long as these undeniable differences remain, living up to the highest ethical standards betrays the interests of civilization. Such conduct directly rewards wickedness. This inevitably brings to mind an incident in the French Chamber during a debate on capital punishment. A member had spoken passionately in favour of abolishing the death penalty, and his speech was met with loud applause. Suddenly, a voice called out from the back of the room, ‘Let the gentlemen murderers go first!’

The bit of truth behind all this—one so eagerly denied—is that men are not gentle, friendly creatures wishing for love, who simply defend themselves if they are attacked, but that a powerful measure of desire for aggression has to be reckoned as part of their instinctual endowment. The result is that their neighbour is to them not only a possible helper or sexual object, but also a temptation to them to gratify their aggressiveness on him, to exploit his capacity for work without recompense, to use him sexually without his consent, to seize his possessions, to humiliate him, to cause him pain, to torture and to kill him. Homo homini lupus; who has the courage to dispute it in the face of all the evidence in his own life and in history? This aggressive cruelty usually lies in wait for some provocation, or else it steps into the service of some other purpose, the aim of which might as well have been achieved by milder measures. In circumstances that favour it, when those forces in the mind which ordinarily inhibit it cease to operate, it also manifests itself spontaneously and reveals men as savage beasts to whom the thought of sparing their own kind is alien. Anyone who calls to mind the atrocities of the early migrations, of the invasion by the Huns or by the so-called Mongols under Jenghiz Khan and Tamurlane, of the sack of Jerusalem by the pious Crusaders, even indeed the horrors of the last world-war, will have to bow his head humbly before the truth of this view of man.

The truth behind all this is one that people are so eager to deny. Human beings are not gentle, friendly creatures who want love and only defend themselves when attacked. Instead, we must recognize that a powerful drive toward aggression is part of their instinctive nature. As a result, their neighbor is not just a possible helper or someone they might desire sexually. Their neighbor also tempts them to satisfy their aggression. They are tempted to exploit their neighbor’s labor without payment, use him sexually without his consent, and seize his possessions. They are also tempted to humiliate him, cause him pain, torture him, and kill him. Homo homini lupus. Who has the courage to dispute this in the face of all the evidence from personal experience and history? This aggressive cruelty usually waits for some provocation, or serves some other purpose. That purpose might just as well have been achieved by gentler means. Under favorable conditions, when the mental forces that normally restrain aggression stop working, this cruelty also emerges spontaneously. It reveals human beings as savage beasts with no thought of sparing their own kind. Consider the atrocities of the early migrations, or the invasions by the Huns or the so-called Mongols under Jenghiz Khan and Tamurlane. Consider the sack of Jerusalem by the pious Crusaders, or even the horrors of the last world war. Anyone who recalls these atrocities must bow their head humbly before the truth of this view of humanity.

The existence of this tendency to aggression which we can detect in ourselves and rightly presume to be present in others is the factor that disturbs our relations with our neighbours and makes it necessary for culture to institute its high demands. Civilized society is perpetually menaced with disintegration through this primary hostility of men towards one another. Their interests in their common work would not hold them together; the passions of instinct are stronger than reasoned interests. Culture has to call up every possible reinforcement in order to erect barriers against the aggressive instincts of men and hold their manifestations in check by reaction-formations in men’s minds. Hence its system of methods by which mankind is to be driven to identifications and aim-inhibited love-relationships; hence the restrictions on sexual life; and hence, too, its ideal command to love one’s neighbour as oneself, which is really justified by the fact that nothing is so completely at variance with original human nature as this. With all its striving, this endeavour of culture’s has so far not achieved very much. Civilization expects to prevent the worst atrocities of brutal violence by taking upon itself the right to employ violence against criminals, but the law is not able to lay hands on the more discreet and subtle forms in which human aggressions are expressed. The time comes when every one of us has to abandon the illusory anticipations with which in our youth we regarded our fellow-men, and when we realize how much hardship and suffering we have been caused in life through their ill-will. It would be unfair, however, to reproach culture with trying to eliminate all disputes and competition from human concerns. These things are undoubtedly indispensable; but opposition is not necessarily enmity, only it may be misused to make an opening for it.

We can detect this tendency toward aggression in ourselves and rightly assume that others share it. This aggression disrupts our relationships with our neighbors and makes civilization’s strict demands necessary. Civilized society is constantly threatened with collapse by this basic hostility between human beings. People’s shared interests in working together would not keep them united. Instinctive passions are stronger than rational interests. Civilization must draw on every possible support to build barriers against human aggression. It must keep aggression in check by creating opposing attitudes in people’s minds. This explains civilization’s methods for pushing people to identify with one another and form loving relationships without pursuing sexual satisfaction. It also explains the restrictions on sexual life and the ideal command to love your neighbor as yourself. That command is justified precisely because nothing runs more completely against original human nature. Despite all its efforts, civilization has so far achieved very little in this struggle. Civilization expects to prevent the worst acts of brutal violence by claiming the right to use violence against criminals. But the law cannot reach the more discreet and subtle ways people express aggression. The time comes when each of us must abandon the illusions we held about other people in our youth. We then recognize how much hardship and suffering their ill will has caused us in life. Still, it would be unfair to accuse civilization of trying to eliminate all disputes and competition from human affairs. Disputes and competition are undoubtedly essential. But opposition is not necessarily hostility, though people may misuse opposition to create an opening for hostility.

The Communists believe they have found a way of delivering us from this evil. Man is wholeheartedly good and friendly to his neighbour, they say, but the system of private property has corrupted his nature. The possession of private property gives power to the individual and thence the temptation arises to ill-treat his neighbour; the man who is excluded from the possession of property is obliged to rebel in hostility against the oppressor. If private property were abolished, all valuables held in common and all allowed to share in the enjoyment of them, ill-will and enmity would disappear from among men. Since all needs would be satisfied, none would have any reason to regard another as an enemy; all would willingly undertake the work which is necessary. I have no concern with any economic criticisms of the communistic system; I cannot enquire into whether the abolition of private property is advantageous and expedient.⁠¹⁷ But I am able to recognize that psychologically it is founded on an untenable illusion. By abolishing private property one deprives the human love of aggression of one of its instruments, a strong one undoubtedly, but assuredly not the strongest. It in no way alters the individual differences in power and influence which are turned by aggressiveness to its own use, nor does it change the nature of the instinct in any way. This instinct did not arise as the result of property; it reigned almost supreme in primitive times when possessions were still extremely scanty; it shows itself already in the nursery when possessions have hardly grown out of their original anal shape; it is at the bottom of all the relations of affection and love between human beings—possibly with the single exception of that of a mother to her male child. Suppose that personal rights to material goods are done away with, there still remain prerogatives in sexual relationships, which must arouse the strongest rancour and most violent enmity among men and women who are otherwise equal. Let us suppose this were also to be removed by instituting complete liberty in sexual life, so that the family, the germ-cell of culture, ceased to exist; one could not, it is true, foresee the new paths on which cultural development might then proceed, but one thing one would be bound to expect and that is that the ineffaceable feature of human nature would follow wherever it led.

The Communists believe they have found a way to free us from this evil. They say human beings are entirely good and friendly toward their neighbors, but private property has corrupted human nature. Owning private property gives individuals power, which tempts them to mistreat their neighbors. Those denied property are forced to rebel against their oppressors out of hostility. If private property were abolished, all valuables shared, and everyone allowed to enjoy them, ill will and hostility would disappear. Since all needs would be met, no one would have any reason to see anyone else as an enemy. Everyone would willingly do the necessary work. I am not concerned here with economic criticisms of the communist system. I cannot examine whether abolishing private property would be beneficial and practical.¹⁷ But I can recognize that the system rests on a psychologically unsupportable illusion. Abolishing private property takes away one tool of the human drive toward aggression. Property is undoubtedly a powerful tool, but certainly not the most powerful. Abolition does nothing to change individual differences in power and influence, which aggression exploits. Nor does abolition change the nature of the aggressive instinct in any way. This instinct did not arise from property. Aggression was almost completely dominant in primitive times, when people still had very few possessions. Aggression already appears in the nursery, when possessions have hardly developed beyond their original anal form. Aggression underlies all relationships of affection and love between human beings. Possibly the only exception is a mother's relationship with her male child. Suppose that individual rights to material goods are abolished. Exclusive privileges in sexual relationships would still remain. These privileges must stir the deepest resentment and most violent hostility among men and women who are otherwise equal. Suppose these privileges were also removed by allowing complete sexual freedom, so that the family, culture's basic building block, disappeared. We could not, admittedly, predict the new paths cultural development might then take. But we would have to expect one thing: this ineradicable feature of human nature would follow wherever cultural development led.

Men clearly do not find it easy to do without satisfaction of this tendency to aggression that is in them; when deprived of satisfaction of it they are ill at ease. There is an advantage, not to be undervalued, in the existence of smaller communities, through which the aggressive instinct can find an outlet in enmity towards those outside the group. It is always possible to unite considerable numbers of men in love towards one another, so long as there are still some remaining as objects for aggressive manifestations. I once interested myself in the peculiar fact that peoples whose territories are adjacent, and are otherwise closely related, are always at feud with and ridiculing each other, as, for instance, the Spaniards and the Portuguese, the North and South Germans, the English and the Scotch, and so on. I gave it the name of ‘narcissism in respect of minor differences’, which does not do much to explain it. One can now see that it is a convenient and relatively harmless form of satisfaction for aggressive tendencies, through which cohesion amongst the members of a group is made easier. The Jewish people, scattered in all directions as they are, have in this way rendered services which deserve recognition to the development of culture in the countries where they settled; but unfortunately not all the massacres of Jews in the Middle Ages sufficed to procure peace and security for their Christian contemporaries. Once the apostle Paul had laid down universal love between all men as the foundation of his Christian community, the inevitable consequence in Christianity was the utmost intolerance towards all who remained outside of it; the Romans, who had not founded their state on love, were not given to lack of religious toleration, although religion was a concern of the state and the state was permeated through and through with it. Neither was it an unaccountable chance that the dream of a German world-dominion evoked a complementary movement towards anti-semitism; and it is quite intelligible that the attempt to establish a new communistic type of culture in Russia should find psychological support in the persecution of the bourgeois. One only wonders, with some concern, however, how the Soviets will manage when they have exterminated their bourgeois entirely.

People clearly find it hard to go without satisfying their aggressive impulses. When those impulses go unsatisfied, people feel uneasy. Smaller communities offer an advantage that should not be underestimated. They give the aggressive instinct an outlet in hostility toward outsiders. It is always possible to unite large numbers of people in mutual love, as long as others remain targets for aggression. I once took an interest in a curious fact about neighboring peoples who are otherwise closely related. They are always feuding with and ridiculing one another. Examples include the Spaniards and the Portuguese, the North and South Germans, the English and the Scotch, and so on. I called this ‘narcissism in respect of minor differences’, a name that does little to explain it. We can now see that such hostility offers a convenient and relatively harmless way to satisfy aggressive impulses. In doing so, it helps strengthen bonds among members of a group. The Jewish people, scattered everywhere, have thus provided services deserving recognition to cultural development in the countries where they settled. But unfortunately, even all the massacres of Jews in the Middle Ages failed to secure peace for their Christian contemporaries. Nor did those massacres bring Christians security. The apostle Paul made universal love among all people the foundation of his Christian community. Once he had done so, Christianity inevitably became utterly intolerant of everyone outside that community. The Romans, who had not founded their state on love, did not tend toward religious intolerance. Yet religion was a state concern and permeated the state through and through. Nor was it an inexplicable coincidence that the dream of German world domination stirred a corresponding movement toward anti-semitism. And it is quite understandable that efforts to establish a new communist culture in Russia found psychological support in persecuting the bourgeois. Still, one wonders with some concern how the Soviets will manage once they have entirely exterminated their bourgeois.

If civilization requires such sacrifices, not only of sexuality but also of the aggressive tendencies in mankind, we can better understand why it should be so hard for men to feel happy in it. In actual fact primitive man was better off in this respect, for he knew nothing of any restrictions on his instincts. As a set-off against this, his prospects of enjoying his happiness for any length of time were very slight. Civilized man has exchanged some part of his chances of happiness for a measure of security. We will not forget, however, that in the primal family only the head of it enjoyed this instinctual freedom; the other members lived in slavish thraldom. The antithesis between a minority enjoying cultural advantages and a majority who are robbed of them was therefore most extreme in that primeval period of culture. With regard to the primitive human types living at the present time, careful investigation has revealed that their instinctual life is by no means to be envied on account of its freedom; it is subject to restrictions of a different kind but perhaps even more rigorous than is that of modern civilized man.

If civilization demands such sacrifices of both sexual and aggressive instincts, we can better understand why happiness within civilization is so difficult. In fact, primitive people were better off in this respect, because they knew no restrictions on their instincts. On the other hand, their chances of enjoying happiness for any length of time were very slim. Civilized people have traded some of their chances for happiness for a measure of security. We must remember, however, that only the head of the earliest family enjoyed this freedom to follow his instincts. The other family members lived in slavery. So the contrast between a minority enjoying civilization’s benefits and a majority denied those benefits was greatest in civilization’s earliest period. As for people living in primitive societies today, careful study has shown that their instinctual freedom is certainly not enviable. Their instincts face different restrictions, but perhaps even stricter ones than those faced by people in modern civilization.

In rightly finding fault, as we thus do, with our present state of civilization for so inadequately providing us with what we require to make us happy in life, and for the amount of suffering of a probably avoidable nature it lays us open to—in doing our utmost to lay bare the roots of its deficiencies by our unsparing criticisms, we are undoubtedly exercising our just rights and not showing ourselves enemies of culture. We may expect that in the course of time changes will be carried out in our civilization so that it becomes more satisfying to our needs and no longer open to the reproaches we have made against it. But perhaps we shall also accustom ourselves to the idea that there are certain difficulties inherent in the very nature of culture which will not yield to any efforts at reform. Over and above the obligations of putting restrictions upon our instincts, which we see to be inevitable, we are imminently threatened with the dangers of a state one may call ‘la misère psychologique’ of groups. This danger is most menacing where the social forces of cohesion consist predominantly of identifications of the individuals in the group with one another, whilst leading personalities fail to acquire the significance that should fall to them in the process of group-formation.⁠¹⁸ The state of civilization in America at the present day offers a good opportunity for studying this injurious effect of civilization which we have reason to dread. But I will resist the temptation to enter upon a criticism of American culture; I have no desire to give the impression that I would employ American methods myself.

We are right to criticize our present civilization for providing too little of what we need for happiness. We are also right to criticize the suffering it exposes us to, much of which is probably avoidable. By criticizing civilization relentlessly to uncover the roots of its failings, we are undoubtedly exercising our rightful freedom. We are not showing ourselves to be enemies of culture. We may expect civilization to change over time, becoming better suited to our needs and free from these criticisms. But perhaps we will also come to accept that some difficulties are part of culture’s very nature. No efforts at reform will overcome those difficulties. Beyond the restrictions we must inevitably place on our instincts, we face the immediate danger of another condition. We might call this condition the ‘la misère psychologique’ of groups. This danger is greatest where social bonds depend mainly on group members identifying with one another. In such groups, leading figures fail to gain the importance they should have in the process of group formation.⁠¹⁸ Civilization in America today offers a good opportunity to study this harmful effect of civilization, which we have reason to fear. But I will resist the temptation to criticize American culture. I have no wish to suggest that I would use American methods myself.