Chapter 9

‘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.

‘You contradict yourself in ways that are hard to reconcile. First, you say that a work like yours is quite harmless. No one will let discussions like these rob him of his religious faith. But as became clear later, your aim is to undermine this faith. So one may ask: why do you publish your work? Elsewhere, however, you admit that discovering people no longer believe in God might be dangerous, indeed very dangerous, for someone. Though he had been obedient until then, he would now reject all the laws of civilization. Your whole argument is that giving civilization’s rules a religious basis puts civilization in danger. In fact, this argument rests on the assumption that a believer can be turned 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.

‘And here is another contradiction: on the one hand, you admit that people will not be guided by intelligence. Their passions and the demands of their instincts rule them. But on the other hand, you propose replacing their emotional loyalty to culture with loyalty based on reason. Let anyone who can make sense of that do so. To me, it seems we must choose 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?

‘Besides, have you learned nothing from history? An official, grand-scale attempt to replace religion with reason has already been made once before. Surely you remember the French Revolution and Robespierre? And how short-lived and miserably ineffective the experiment was? The experiment is being repeated in Russia now, and we need not wonder about the outcome. Don’t you think we may assume that human beings 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.’

‘You yourself have said that religion is more than an obsessional neurosis. But you have not addressed religion’s other side. You are content to explore the comparison between religion and neurosis. People must be freed from a neurosis. Whatever else is lost in the process does not bother 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.

These apparent contradictions probably arose because I dealt too hastily with complicated matters. But we can make up for that to some extent. I still maintain that my work is quite harmless in one respect. No believer will let these arguments, or similar ones, lead them astray. Believers have emotional ties to the substance of religion. Certainly, vast numbers of other people are not religious in the same sense. They obey the laws of civilization because religion’s threats intimidate them. They fear religion as long as they see it as part of the reality that limits their freedom. These people break free as soon as they dare to stop believing that religion is real. But arguments have no effect on them either. They stop fearing religion when they discover that others do not fear it. As I have argued, these people would learn that religion’s influence is declining 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 suppose you place more weight on the other contradiction you accuse me of. People respond so little to reasonable arguments and are so completely ruled by their instinctive desires. Why, then, take away a way of satisfying their instincts and replace it with reasonable arguments? Certainly people are like this. But have you asked yourself whether they have to be, whether their deepest nature makes it inevitable? Can an anthropologist measure a people’s natural skull proportions if they customarily reshape their children’s heads with bandages from infancy? Think of the distressing contrast between a healthy child’s brilliant intelligence and the average adult’s weak mind. Is it so utterly impossible that religious upbringing is largely to blame for this relative decline? I think a child left uninfluenced would take a very long time to start worrying about God and the afterlife. Perhaps the child’s thoughts on these matters would then follow the same course as those of earlier generations. But we do not wait for this development. We introduce children to religious doctrines when they are neither interested in them nor able to understand their significance. Isn’t modern education mainly concerned with two things: delaying sexual development and introducing religious influence early? So when children’s minds awaken, religious doctrines are already beyond challenge. But does threatening children with the pains of hell really strengthen their minds by closing off such an important subject? We need not be greatly surprised by the weak mind of someone who accepts all the absurdities taught by religion. Such a person has learned to accept those absurdities without question, and even to overlook the contradictions between them. Now, intelligence is our only means of controlling our instincts. How can we expect people forbidden to question certain ideas to achieve the psychological ideal, the rule of intelligence? You also know that women in general are said to suffer from so-called ‘physiological weak-mindedness’, that is, lower intelligence than men. The claim itself is debatable, and its explanation uncertain. But some have argued that this intellectual decline is a secondary effect of the harsh prohibitions imposed on women early. Those prohibitions prevented women from thinking about what would have interested them most: questions about sexual life. As long as someone’s early years are shaped by religious restrictions on thought, we cannot really know their true nature. The same applies to restrictions arising from loyalty, derived from those religious restrictions, and to restrictions on sexual thought.

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.

But I will hold back my enthusiasm and admit that I too may be chasing an illusion. Perhaps religion’s ban on questioning is not as harmful as I assume. Perhaps human nature will remain unchanged even if education is no longer misused by being placed under religion’s control. I do not know, and you cannot know either. At present, not only do life’s great problems seem impossible to solve, but many smaller questions are also hard to settle. But you must admit that there are grounds here for hope for the future. Perhaps we may uncover a treasure that can enrich culture, and an experiment with non-religious education is worth trying. If the experiment proves unsatisfactory, I am ready to abandon the reform and return to my earlier, purely descriptive judgment: human beings have limited intelligence and are ruled by their instinctive 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.

There is another point on which I agree with you wholeheartedly. Trying to abolish religion by force, all at once, is certainly senseless, especially since the attempt is hopeless. A believer will not let anyone take his faith from him, either through arguments or through bans. And even if such efforts succeeded with some believers, taking their faith away would be cruel. A man who has taken sleeping medicine for decades naturally cannot sleep without it. Events in America neatly illustrate how the comfort religion offers may be compared to the effects of a narcotic. There, people are now trying to deprive men of all stimulants, intoxicants and luxuries,[^3] plainly under the influence of women who rule the roost. To compensate, they aim to fill men with piety instead. Here is another experiment whose outcome we need not wonder about.

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?

And so I disagree when you argue that people generally cannot do without the comfort of religious illusion. You claim that without this comfort, they could not bear life’s troubles and the cruelty of reality. Certainly, this is true of someone you have fed this sweet (or bittersweet) poison since childhood. But what about someone raised with a sober view of life? Perhaps, not suffering from neurosis, he will need no intoxicant to dull it. True, people will then find themselves in a difficult position. They will have to admit their complete helplessness and their insignificant role in the workings of the universe. They will have to admit they are no longer the centre of creation. Nor are they any longer the objects of a kindly providence’s tender care. They will be like children who have left the home where they were so warm and comfortable. But after all, isn’t childishness something we are meant to outgrow? People cannot remain children forever. They must finally venture into the hostile world. We may call this ‘education to reality’. Need I tell you that my book’s sole aim is to show why this step forward is necessary?

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:

You probably fear that he will not pass the test? Well, let us be hopeful anyway. At least there is value in knowing that you must rely on your own resources. You then learn to use those resources properly. And humanity is not entirely without help. Since the time of the great flood, science has taught people much and will increase their power still further. As for the unavoidable hardships of fate, people will simply learn to accept and endure them. What use is the illusion of a kingdom on the moon, whose income no one has ever seen? As an honest small farmer here on earth, a person will know how to cultivate his plot to support himself. So people will stop placing their hopes in the next world and focus all their freed energies on earthly life. By doing so, they will probably create conditions in which life is bearable for all. No one will be oppressed by civilization anymore. Then, alongside one of our fellow unbelievers, they will be able to say without regret:

Let us leave the heavens

Let's leave the heavens

To the angels and the sparrows.

To the angels and the sparrows.