Chapter 6

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.

I think we have prepared the way well enough to answer both questions. We can find the answers by focusing on the psychological origins of religious ideas. These ideas claim to be dogmas. But they do not come from experience or represent the final conclusions of reflection. They are illusions, fulfilling humanity’s oldest, strongest, and most persistent wishes. The strength of these wishes is the secret of the ideas’ power. We already know that the terror of childhood helplessness created a need for protection through love. The father met this need. Later came the discovery that this helplessness would last throughout life. So people needed to hold on to the existence of a father, but now a more powerful one. Thus the benevolent rule of divine providence eases our anxiety about life’s dangers. A moral order governing the world ensures that the demands of justice are met. Within human civilization, these demands have so often gone unmet. Life after death extends our earthly existence. It also provides the place and time for these wishes to be fulfilled. Answers to questions that attract human curiosity are developed to fit this system’s underlying assumptions. Such questions include the origin of the universe and the relationship between body and soul. The individual mind finds tremendous relief if it is freed from childhood conflicts arising from the father complex. These conflicts are never fully overcome. Relief also comes if these conflicts are given 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.

When I say that they are illusions, I must explain what I mean by the word. An illusion is not the same as an error. In fact, an illusion need not be an error at all. Aristotle’s belief that vermin develop from dung, a belief ignorant people still cling to, was an error. So was the belief of an earlier generation of doctors that tabes dorsalis resulted from excessive sexual activity. These errors should not be called illusions. By contrast, Columbus’s belief that he had discovered a new sea route to India was an illusion. The role his wish played in his error is very clear. Certain nationalists claim that the Indo-Germanic race is the only race capable of culture. Their claim may be called an illusion. So may the belief that children have no sexuality, a belief that only psychoanalysis overturned. An illusion is characterized by its origin in human wishes. In this respect, an illusion resembles a psychiatric delusion, but the two must be distinguished. This distinction holds quite apart from the more complex structure of a delusion. With a delusion, we emphasize its conflict with reality as an essential feature. An illusion, however, need not be false, meaning impossible to fulfill or incompatible with reality. For example, a poor girl may have the illusion that a prince will come and take her home. Such an outcome is possible. Some such cases have occurred. The coming of the Messiah to establish a golden age is much less probable. Depending on our personal outlook, we will classify this belief as an illusion or as something resembling a delusion. Examples of illusions that have come true are hard to find. But the alchemists’ illusion that all metals can be turned into gold may prove to be one. Our modern understanding of wealth has considerably dampened the desire for plenty of gold, as much gold as possible. Yet chemistry no longer regards turning metals into gold as impossible. So we call a belief an illusion when wish fulfillment plays a prominent role in motivating the belief. In doing so, we disregard the belief’s relationship 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.

If, after this review, we return to religious doctrines, we may repeat that they are all illusions. They cannot be proved, and no one can be forced to accept them as true or believe in them. Some are so unlikely and so deeply at odds with everything we have painstakingly discovered about the world’s reality. We may therefore compare those doctrines to delusions, while giving due weight to the psychological differences. We cannot judge whether most religious doctrines reflect reality. Just as they cannot be proved, they cannot be disproved either. We still know too little to examine them critically. The mysteries of the universe reveal themselves only slowly to our investigations. Science still cannot answer many questions, but scientific work is our only path to knowledge of external reality. Again, expecting anything from intuition or trance is merely an illusion. Intuition and trance can give us only details about our own mental life, and those details are difficult to interpret. They can never answer the questions that religious doctrines answer so casually. It would be irresponsible to fill this gap by arbitrarily choosing what to believe. We cannot simply use personal judgment to declare one part of a religious system more or less acceptable than another. These questions are too important 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.

At this point someone may object: well, then, if even the grumpy skeptics admit that reason cannot disprove religious claims, why shouldn’t I believe them? After all, they have so much in their favor: tradition, humanity’s agreement, and all the comfort they provide. Yes, why not? Just as no one can be forced to believe, no one can be forced not to believe. But do not fool yourself into thinking that these arguments follow sound reasoning. If ever an argument was shallow, this is one. Ignorance is ignorance. It gives you no right to believe anything. No reasonable person would be so careless in other matters. Nor would anyone reasonable accept such weak grounds for their opinions or the position they take. Only in the highest and holiest matters do they allow themselves such carelessness. In reality, these arguments are only attempts to deceive oneself or others. They create the impression that one still holds firmly to religion, when one has long since broken away from it. When it comes to religion, people commit every possible kind of dishonesty and intellectual misconduct. Philosophers stretch the meaning of words until almost nothing of their original meaning remains. They call some vague abstraction of their own invention ‘God’ and present themselves to the world as deists, as believers. They may even pride themselves on having reached a higher and purer idea of God. Yet their God is nothing but a hollow shadow, no longer the powerful personality described in religious doctrine. Critics keep calling someone ‘deeply religious’ for admitting a sense of human insignificance and helplessness in the face of the universe. Yet that feeling is not the essence of religious emotion. Rather, the essence lies in the next step: the response that seeks relief from that feeling. Someone who goes no further, who humbly accepts humanity’s insignificant place in the universe, is, on the contrary, truly irreligious.

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.

This inquiry does not aim to judge whether religious doctrines are true. It is enough that we have recognized them as illusions from a psychological standpoint. But we need not hide how strongly this discovery shapes our attitude toward what many consider the most important question. We know roughly when religious doctrines arose and what kinds of people created them. If we now learn their motives, our attitude toward the question of religion will change considerably. We say to ourselves: it would indeed be very nice if there were a God who created the world and watched over it benevolently. It would be nice if there were a moral order to the world and a life after death. But at the same time, it is very odd that all these things are exactly what we would wish for. And it would be even odder if our poor, ignorant, enslaved ancestors had solved all these difficult mysteries of the universe.