Chapter 2

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.

Without noticing, we have moved from economics into psychology. At first, we were tempted to see culture’s essence in its material resources and the arrangements for distributing them. But we discovered that every culture rests on forced labor and the suppression of instinctual desires. These demands therefore inevitably provoke opposition from those subject to them. So it became clear that resources, ways of acquiring them, and arrangements for distributing them could not alone define culture. Nor could they be culture’s essential feature. For all these things are threatened by the rebelliousness and destructive passions of culture’s members. So, alongside its resources, culture has means of defending itself. These include coercive measures and other measures intended to reconcile people to culture and compensate them for their sacrifices. These latter measures may be described as the psychological side 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.

To keep our terms consistent, we will call the inability to satisfy an instinct ‘frustration’. We will call the means of enforcing this frustration ‘prohibition’, and the resulting condition ‘privation’. Next, we must distinguish between privations that affect everyone and those that affect only groups, classes, or even individuals. Privations that affect everyone are the oldest. With the prohibitions that cause these privations, culture began separating humanity from its original animal condition. Who knows how many thousands of years ago this began? To our surprise, we have found that these prohibitions still operate. They still lie at the heart of hostility toward culture. The instinctive wishes restricted by these prohibitions arise anew in every child. One group of people, neurotics, respond even to this first set of frustrations with an antisocial attitude. These instinctive wishes are desires for incest, cannibalism, and murder. Everyone seems to agree in rejecting these wishes. So it seems strange to group them with other wishes whose acceptability in our culture is so fiercely debated. But psychologically, this grouping is justified. Nor does culture treat each of these oldest instinctive wishes in the same way. Only cannibalism seems to be forbidden by everyone and, except from a psychoanalytic perspective, to have been completely overcome. The strength of incestuous wishes can still be seen behind the prohibition against them. And under certain conditions, our culture still practices murder and even demands it. Culture may develop further, so that satisfying other wishes, entirely acceptable today, will seem just as repugnant as cannibalism does 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.

A psychological factor is already involved in these earliest acts of giving up instinctual desires. This factor remains very important for everything that follows. It is not true that the human mind has failed to develop since the earliest times. Unlike science and technology, the mind is not unchanged since the beginning of history. We can identify one such advance here. As we develop, external pressure gradually becomes internal. A special mental function, the super-ego, takes over its authority. Every child shows us how this transformation happens. Only through this process does a child become a moral and social being. This strengthening of the super-ego is a highly valuable psychological asset for culture. People whose super-ego has grown stronger change from enemies of culture into its supporters. The more such people a cultural community has, the more secure that community becomes. The community can then more easily do without external force. The extent of this internalization varies widely from one prohibition of instinctual desires to another. For the earliest demands of culture, mentioned above, the process seems largely complete. This is so if we set aside the unwelcome exception of neurotics. But matters are different when we turn to other instinctual demands. We notice with surprise and concern that most people obey these cultural prohibitions only under pressure from external force. Indeed, they obey only where that force can be effective and only as long as they fear it. The same is true of the so-called moral demands of culture, which likewise apply to everyone. Much of the moral unreliability we encounter in people can be explained in this way. Countless civilized people would recoil from murder or incest. Yet they do not hesitate to satisfy their greed, aggression, and sexual lust. Nor do they feel any guilt about hurting others through lies, fraud, and slander, as long as they escape punishment. And no doubt this has been true throughout many periods of cultural history.

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.

When we turn to restrictions that apply only to certain social classes, we find an obvious and long-recognized situation. We can expect the neglected classes to resent the privileges of the favored classes. We can also expect them to do everything they can to free themselves from their greater share of deprivation. Where they cannot escape this deprivation, lasting discontent will remain within the culture, and may lead to dangerous outbreaks. But suppose a culture has not moved beyond satisfying one group of its members by necessarily oppressing another, perhaps the majority. This is the case in all modern cultures. Under these circumstances, we can understand why the oppressed classes would develop an intense hostility toward the culture. Their labor makes the culture possible, but they receive too small a share of its resources. In such conditions, we must not expect the oppressed classes to accept the culture’s prohibitions as their own inner rules. Indeed, they are not even willing to recognize these prohibitions. They are intent on destroying the culture itself, and perhaps even the assumptions on which it rests. The hostility of these classes toward culture is so obvious that it has obscured the less visible hostility of better-off social groups. It goes without saying that a culture that leaves so many members unsatisfied and drives them to rebellion cannot expect to survive. Nor does it deserve to.

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.

How deeply a culture’s members have absorbed its rules is one psychological asset to consider when judging that culture’s value. In everyday, nonpsychological terms, this means the moral level of its members. But it is not the only psychological asset. There is also the culture’s heritage of ideals and works of art, or rather, the satisfaction both provide.

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.

We are all too ready to count a culture’s ideals among its psychological possessions. These ideals express its judgments about its highest and most ambitious accomplishments. At first, the ideals seem to determine what the cultural group achieves. But the process seems to work the other way around. The ideals take shape around the first achievements made possible by the combination of inner abilities and external circumstances. The ideals then simply preserve these early achievements as examples to follow. The satisfaction these ideals give members of the culture is therefore narcissistic. It rests on pride in what the culture has already achieved. To make this satisfaction complete, the culture compares itself with others that have pursued different tasks and developed different ideals. On the strength of these differences, every culture claims the right to look down on all the others. In this way, cultural ideals become a source of conflict and hostility between cultural groups. This is clearest 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.

The narcissistic satisfaction people gain from their culture’s ideals also helps counter hostility toward culture within the group. This satisfaction is shared not only by the privileged classes, who enjoy the culture’s benefits, but also by the oppressed. The right to despise outsiders compensates the oppressed for the wrongs they suffer within their own group. True, you are a miserable plebeian, burdened by duties and military service. But you are still a Roman citizen. You share in the task of ruling other nations and imposing laws on them. Yet this identification with the class that rules and exploits them is only part of a larger pattern. The oppressed can also feel emotionally attached to their rulers. Despite their hostility, the oppressed can find their ideals embodied in their masters. Without such relationships, which are fundamentally satisfying, it would be impossible to understand how so many cultures have survived so long. They have endured despite the justified hostility of vast numbers of people.

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.

Art gives members of a cultural group a different kind of satisfaction. As a rule, art remains inaccessible to the masses, who do exhausting work and have not benefited from individual education. As we have long known, art offers substitute satisfactions for the oldest desires people have given up for culture. These sacrifices are still always felt most deeply. For that reason, art does more than anything else to reconcile people to the sacrifices they have made for culture. On the other hand, works of art let people share highly valued emotional experiences. In doing so, art strengthens the sense of identification that every cultural group needs so much. And when artworks represent a particular culture’s achievements, they powerfully remind that culture of its ideals. In doing so, they also provide narcissistic satisfaction.

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.

We have not yet mentioned perhaps the most important part of a culture’s mental resources: its religious ideas, broadly understood. In other words, its illusions, a term whose use I will justify later.