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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78221-0.txt b/78221-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4914284 --- /dev/null +++ b/78221-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3013 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78221 *** + + + + + Transcriber’s Note + Italic text displayed as: _italic_ + + + + + CIVILIZATION + AND ITS DISCONTENTS + + + + +JONATHAN CAPE AND HARRISON SMITH, INCORPORATED, 139 EAST 46TH STREET, +NEW YORK, N. Y. AND 77 WELLINGTON STREET, WEST, TORONTO, CANADA; +JONATHAN CAPE, LTD., 30 BEDFORD SQUARE, LONDON, W. C. 1, ENGLAND + + + + + CIVILIZATION + AND ITS DISCONTENTS + + SIGMUND FREUD, M.D., LL.D. + + AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION + + BY + + JOAN RIVIERE + + [Illustration] + + NEW YORK + JONATHAN CAPE & HARRISON SMITH + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1930 + BY JONATHAN CAPE AND + HARRISON SMITH, INC. + + FIRST PUBLISHED IN AMERICA. 1930 + SECOND PRINTING OCTOBER. 1930 + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES + BY THE DE VINNE-HALLENBECK COMPANY + AND BOUND BY THE J. F. TAPLEY COMPANY + + + + +TRANSLATOR’S NOTE + + +My grateful thanks are due to Fräulein Anna Freud, Dr. Ernest Jones +and Mr. James Strachey for their careful revision of the MS. of this +translation and the many improvements they made in it, and also to Miss +Ethel Colburn Mayne for her translations of the verse quoted. + + J. R. + + + + +I + + +The impression forces itself upon one that men measure by false +standards, that everyone seeks power, success, riches for himself and +admires others who attain them, while undervaluing the truly precious +things in life. And yet, in making any general judgement of this kind +one is in danger of forgetting the manifold variety of humanity and its +mental life. There are certain men from whom their contemporaries do +not withhold veneration, although their greatness rests on attributes +and achievements which are completely foreign to the aims and ideals of +the multitude. One might well be inclined to suppose that after all it +is only a minority who appreciate these great men, while the majority +cares nothing for them. But the discrepancy between men’s opinions and +their behaviour is so wide and their desires so many-sided that things +are probably not so simple. + +One of these exceptional men calls himself my friend in his letters +to me. I had sent him my little book which treats of religion as an +illusion and he answered that he agreed entirely with my views on +religion, but that he was sorry I had not properly appreciated the +ultimate source of religious sentiments. This consists in a peculiar +feeling, which never leaves him personally, which he finds shared by +many others, and which he may suppose millions more also experience. It +is a feeling which he would like to call a sensation of ‘eternity’, a +feeling as of something limitless, unbounded, something ‘oceanic’. It +is, he says, a purely subjective experience, not an article of belief; +it implies no assurance of personal immortality, but it is the source +of the religious spirit and is taken hold of by the various Churches +and religious systems, directed by them into definite channels and +also, no doubt, used up in them. One may rightly call oneself religious +on the ground of this oceanic feeling alone, even though one reject all +beliefs and all illusions. + +These views, expressed by my friend whom I so greatly honour and +who himself once in poetry described the magic of illusion, put me +in a difficult position. I cannot discover this ‘oceanic’ feeling +in myself. It is not easy to deal scientifically with feelings. One +may attempt to describe their physiological signs. Where that is +impossible—I am afraid the oceanic feeling, too, will defy this +kind of classification—nothing remains but to turn to the ideational +content which most readily associates itself with the feeling. If I +have understood my friend aright, he means the same thing as that +consolation offered by an original and somewhat unconventional writer +to his hero, contemplating suicide: ‘Out of this world we cannot +fall’.[1] So it is a feeling of indissoluble connection, of belonging +inseparably to the external world as a whole. To me, personally, I may +remark, this seems something more in the nature of an intellectual +judgement, not, it is true, without any accompanying feeling-tone, +but with one of a kind which characterizes other equally far-reaching +reflections as well. I could not in my own person convince myself of +the primary nature of such a feeling. But I cannot on that account deny +that it in fact occurs in other people. One can only wonder whether +it has been correctly interpreted and whether it is entitled to be +acknowledged as the _fons et origo_ of the whole need for religion. + +I have nothing to suggest which could effectively settle the solution +of this problem. The idea that man should receive intimation of his +connection with the surrounding world by a direct feeling which aims +from the outset at serving this purpose sounds so strange and is so +incongruous with the structure of our psychology that one is justified +in attempting a psycho-analytic, that is, genetic explanation of such a +feeling. Whereupon the following lines of thought present themselves. +Normally there is nothing we are more certain of than the feeling of +our self, our own ego. It seems to us an independent unitary thing, +sharply outlined against everything else. That this is a deceptive +appearance, and that on the contrary the ego extends inwards without +any sharp delimitation, into an unconscious mental entity which we +call the id and to which it forms a façade, was first discovered +by psycho-analytic research, and the latter still has much to tell +us about the relations of the ego to the id. But towards the outer +world at any rate the ego seems to keep itself clearly and sharply +outlined and delimited. There is only one state of mind in which it +fails to do this—an unusual state, it is true, but not one that can +be judged as pathological. At its height the state of being in love +threatens to obliterate the boundaries between ego and object. Against +all the evidence of his senses the man in love declares that he and +his beloved are one, and is prepared to behave as if it were a fact. +A thing that can be temporarily effaced by a physiological function +must also of course be liable to disturbance by morbid processes. From +pathology we have come to know a large number of states in which the +boundary lines between ego and outer world become uncertain, or in +which they are actually incorrectly perceived—cases in which parts of +a man’s own body, even component parts of his own mind, perceptions, +thoughts, feelings, appear to him alien and not belonging to himself; +other cases in which a man ascribes to the external world things that +clearly originate in himself, and that ought to be acknowledged by him. +So the ego’s cognizance of itself is subject to disturbance, and the +boundaries between it and the outer world are not immovable. + +Further reflection shows that the adult’s sense of his own ego cannot +have been the same from the beginning. It must have undergone a +development, which naturally cannot be demonstrated, but which admits +of reconstruction with a fair degree of probability.[2] When the +infant at the breast receives stimuli, he cannot as yet distinguish +whether they come from his ego or from the outer world. He learns +it gradually as the result of various exigencies. It must make the +strongest impression on him that many sources of excitation, which +later on he will recognize as his own bodily organs, can provide him +at any time with sensations, whereas others become temporarily out +of his reach—amongst these what he wants most of all, his mother’s +breast—and reappear only as a result of his cries for help. Thus +an ‘object’ first presents itself to the ego as something existing +‘outside’, which is only induced to appear by a particular act. A +further stimulus to the growth and formation of the ego, so that +it becomes something more than a bundle of sensations, _i.e._ +recognizes an ‘outside’, the external world, is afforded by the +frequent, unavoidable and manifold pains and unpleasant sensations +which the pleasure-principle, still in unrestricted domination, bids +it abolish or avoid. The tendency arises to dissociate from the ego +everything which can give rise to pain, to cast it out and create a +pure pleasure-ego, in contrast to a threatening ‘outside’, not-self. +The limits of this primitive pleasure-ego cannot escape readjustment +through experience. Much that the individual wants to retain because +it is pleasure-giving is nevertheless part not of the ego but of an +object; and much that he wishes to eject because it torments him yet +proves to be inseparable from the ego, arising from an inner source. He +learns a method by which, through deliberate use of the sensory organs +and suitable muscular movements, he can distinguish between internal +and external—what is part of the ego and what originates in the outer +world—and thus he makes the first step towards the introduction of +the reality-principle which is to control his development further. +This capacity for distinguishing which he learns of course serves a +practical purpose, that of enabling him to defend himself against +painful sensations felt by him or threatening him. Against certain +painful excitations from within the ego has only the same means of +defence as that employed against pain coming from without, and this is +the starting-point of important morbid disturbances. + +In this way the ego detaches itself from the external world. It is +more correct to say: Originally the ego includes everything, later +it detaches from itself the external world. The ego-feeling we are +aware of now is thus only a shrunken vestige of a far more extensive +feeling—a feeling which embraced the universe and expressed an +inseparable connection of the ego with the external world. If we may +suppose that this primary ego-feeling has been preserved in the minds +of many people—to a greater or lesser extent—it would co-exist like +a sort of counterpart with the narrower and more sharply outlined +ego-feeling of maturity, and the ideational content belonging to it +would be precisely the notion of limitless extension and oneness +with the universe—the same feeling as that described by my friend as +‘oceanic’. But have we any right to assume that the original type of +feeling survives alongside the later one which has developed from it? + +Undoubtedly we have: there is nothing unusual in such a phenomenon, +whether in the psychological or in other spheres. Where animals are +concerned we hold the view that the most highly developed have arisen +from the lowest. Yet we still find all the simple forms alive to-day. +The great saurians are extinct and have made way for the mammals, but +a typical representative of them, the crocodile, is still living among +us. The analogy may be too remote, and it is also weakened by the fact +that the surviving lower species are not as a rule the true ancestors +of the present-day more highly developed types. The intermediate +members have mostly died out and are known to us only through +reconstruction. In the realm of mind, on the other hand, the primitive +type is so commonly preserved alongside the transformations which have +developed out of it that it is superfluous to give instances in proof +of it. When this happens, it is usually the result of a bifurcation in +development. One quantitative part of an attitude or an impulse has +survived unchanged while another has undergone further development. + +This brings us very close to the more general problem of conservation +in the mind, which has so far hardly been discussed, but is so +interesting and important that we may take the opportunity to pay it +some attention, even though its relevance is not immediate. Since the +time when we recognized the error of supposing that ordinary forgetting +signified destruction or annihilation of the memory-trace, we have +been inclined to the opposite view that nothing once formed in the +mind could ever perish, that everything survives in some way or other, +and is capable under certain conditions of being brought to light +again, as, for instance, when regression extends back far enough. One +might try to picture to oneself what this assumption signifies by a +comparison taken from another field. Let us choose the history of the +Eternal City as an example.[3] Historians tell us that the oldest Rome +of all was the _Roma quadrata_, a fenced settlement on the Palatine. +Then followed the phase of the Septimontium, when the colonies on the +different hills united together; then the town which was bounded by +the Servian wall; and later still, after all the transformations in +the periods of the republic and the early Caesars, the city which the +Emperor Aurelian enclosed by his walls. We will not follow the changes +the city went through any further, but will ask ourselves what traces +of these early stages in its history a visitor to Rome may still find +to-day, if he goes equipped with the most complete historical and +topographical knowledge. Except for a few gaps, he will see the wall of +Aurelian almost unchanged. He can find sections of the Servian rampart +at certain points where it has been excavated and brought to light. If +he knows enough—more than present-day archaeology—he may perhaps trace +out in the structure of the town the whole course of this wall and the +outline of _Roma quadrata_. Of the buildings which once occupied this +ancient ground-plan he will find nothing, or but meagre fragments, +for they exist no longer. With the best information about Rome of the +republican era, the utmost he could achieve would be to indicate the +sites where the temples and public buildings of that period stood. +These places are now occupied by ruins, but the ruins are not those of +the early buildings themselves but of restorations of them in later +times after fires and demolitions. It is hardly necessary to mention +that all these remains of ancient Rome are found woven into the fabric +of a great metropolis which has arisen in the last few centuries since +the Renaissance. There is assuredly much that is ancient still buried +in the soil or under the modern buildings of the town. This is the way +in which we find antiquities surviving in historic cities like Rome. + +Now let us make the fantastic supposition that Rome were not a human +dwelling-place, but a mental entity with just as long and varied a +past history: that is, in which nothing once constructed had perished, +and all the earlier stages of development had survived alongside the +latest. This would mean that in Rome the palaces of the Caesars were +still standing on the Palatine and the Septizonium of Septimius Severus +was still towering to its old height; that the beautiful statues were +still standing in the colonnade of the Castle of St. Angelo, as they +were up to its siege by the Goths, and so on. But more still: where +the Palazzo Caffarelli stands there would also be, without this being +removed, the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, not merely in its latest +form, moreover, as the Romans of the Caesars saw it, but also in its +earliest shape, when it still wore an Etruscan design and was adorned +with terra-cotta antifixae. Where the Coliseum stands now we could at +the same time admire Nero’s Golden House; on the Piazza of the Pantheon +we should find not only the Pantheon of to-day as bequeathed to us by +Hadrian, but on the same site also Agrippa’s original edifice; indeed, +the same ground would support the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva +and the old temple over which it was built. And the observer would need +merely to shift the focus of his eyes, perhaps, or change his position, +in order to call up a view of either the one or the other. + +There is clearly no object in spinning this fantasy further; it +leads to the inconceivable, or even to absurdities. If we try to +represent historical sequence in spatial terms, it can only be done +by juxtaposition in space; the same space will not hold two contents. +Our attempt seems like an idle game; it has only one justification: it +shows us how far away from mastering the idiosyncrasies of mental life +we are by treating them in terms of visual representation. + +There is one objection, though, to which we must pay attention. It +questions our choosing in particular the past history of a _city_ to +liken to the past of the mind. Even for mental life our assumption that +everything past is preserved holds good only on condition that the +organ of the mind remains intact and its structure has not been injured +by traumas or inflammation. Destructive influences comparable to these +morbid agencies are never lacking in the history of any town, even if +it has had a less chequered past than Rome, even if, like London, it +has hardly ever been pillaged by an enemy. Demolitions and the erection +of new buildings in the place of old occur in cities which have had the +most peaceful existence; therefore a town is from the outset unsuited +for the comparison I have made of it with a mental organism. + +We admit this objection; we will abandon our search for a striking +effect of contrast and turn to what is after all a closer object of +comparison, the body of an animal or human being. But here, too, we +find the same thing. The early stages of development are in no sense +still extant; they have been absorbed into the later features for +which they supplied the material. The embryo cannot be demonstrated +in the adult; the thymus gland of childhood is replaced after puberty +by connective tissue but no longer exists itself; in the marrow-bone +of a grown man I can, it is true, trace the outline of the childish +bone-structure, but this latter no longer survives in itself—it +lengthened and thickened until it reached its final form. The fact +is that a survival of all the early stages alongside the final form +is only possible in the mind, and that it is impossible for us to +represent a phenomenon of this kind in visual terms. + +Perhaps we are going too far with this conclusion. Perhaps we ought +to be content with the assertion that what is past in the mind _can_ +survive and need not necessarily perish. It is always possible that +even in the mind much that is old may be so far obliterated or +absorbed—whether normally or by way of exception—that it cannot be +restored or reanimated by any means, of that survival of it is always +connected with certain favourable conditions. It is possible, but we +know nothing about it. We can only be sure that it is more the rule +than the exception for the past to survive in the mind. + +Thus we are entirely willing to acknowledge that the ‘oceanic’ feeling +exists in many people, and we are disposed to relate it to an early +stage in ego-feeling; the further question then arises what claim this +feeling has to be regarded as the source of the need for religion. + +To me this claim does not seem very forcible. Surely a feeling can +only be a source of energy when it is itself the expression of a +strong need. The derivation of a need for religion from the child’s +feeling of helplessness and the longing it evokes for a father seems +to me incontrovertible, especially since this feeling is not simply +carried on from childhood days but is kept alive perpetually by the +fear of what the superior power of fate will bring. I could not point +to any need in childhood so strong as that for a father’s protection. +Thus the part played by the ‘oceanic’ feeling, which I suppose seeks +to reinstate limitless narcissism, cannot possibly take the first +place. The derivation of the religious attitude can be followed back +in clear outline as far as the child’s feeling of helplessness. There +may be something else behind this, but for the present it is wrapped in +obscurity. + +I can imagine that the oceanic feeling could become connected with +religion later on. That feeling of oneness with the universe which +is its ideational content sounds very like a first attempt at the +consolations of religion, like another way taken by the ego of denying +the dangers it sees threatening it in the external world. I must again +confess that I find it very difficult to work with these intangible +quantities. Another friend of mine, whose insatiable scientific +curiosity has impelled him to the most out-of-the-way researches and +to the acquisition of encyclopaedic knowledge, has assured me that the +Yogi by their practices of withdrawal from the world, concentrating +attention on bodily functions, peculiar methods of breathing, actually +are able to produce new sensations and diffused feelings in themselves +which he regards as regressions to primordial, deeply buried mental +states. He sees in them a physiological foundation, so to speak, of +much of the wisdom of mysticism. There would be connections to be made +here with many obscure modifications of mental life, such as trance and +ecstasy. But I am moved to exclaim, in the words of Schiller’s diver: + + Who breathes overhead in the rose-tinted light may be glad! + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Christian Grabbe, _Hannibal_: ‘Ja, aus der Welt werden wir nicht +fallen. Wir sind einmal darin.’ + +[2] Cf. the considerable volume of work on this topic dating from that +of Ferenczi (‘Stages in the Development of the Sense of Reality’, 1913) +up to Federn’s contributions, 1926, 1927 and later. + +[3] According to _The Cambridge Ancient History_, vol. vii., 1928, +‘The Founding of Rome’, by Hugh Last. + + + + +II + + +In my _Future of an Illusion_[4] I was concerned much less with the +deepest sources of religious feeling than with what the ordinary man +understands by his religion, that system of doctrines and pledges +that on the one hand explains the riddle of this world to him with an +enviable completeness, and on the other assures him that a solicitous +Providence is watching over him and will make up to him in a future +existence for any shortcomings in this life. The ordinary man cannot +imagine this Providence in any other form but that of a greatly exalted +father, for only such a one could understand the needs of the sons +of men, or be softened by their prayers and placated by the signs of +their remorse. The whole thing is so patently infantile, so incongruous +with reality, that to one whose attitude to humanity is friendly it +is painful to think that the great majority of mortals will never be +able to rise above this view of life. It is even more humiliating to +discover what a large number of those alive to-day, who must see that +this religion is not tenable, yet try to defend it inch by inch, as if +with a series of pitiable rearguard actions. One would like to count +oneself among the believers, so as to admonish the philosophers who try +to preserve the God of religion by substituting for him an impersonal, +shadowy, abstract principle, and say, ‘Thou shalt not take the name of +the Lord thy God in vain!’ Some of the great men of the past did the +same, but that is no justification for us; we know why they had to do +so. + +We will now go back to the ordinary man and his religion—the only +religion that ought to bear the name. The well-known words of one of +our great and wise poets come to mind in which he expresses his view of +the relation of religion to art and science. They run: + + He who has Science and has Art, + Religion, too, has he; + Who has not Science, has not Art, + Let him religious be![5] + +On the one hand, these words contrast religion with the two highest +achievements of man, and on the other, they declare that in respect +of their value in life they can represent or replace each other. If +we wish to deprive even the ordinary man, too, of his religion, we +shall clearly not have the authority of the poet on our side. We will +seek to get in touch with the meaning of his utterance by a special +way. Life as we find it is too hard for us; it entails too much pain, +too many disappointments, impossible tasks. We cannot do without +palliative remedies. We cannot dispense with auxiliary constructions, +as Theodor Fontane said. There are perhaps three of these means: +powerful diversions of interest, which lead us to care little about our +misery; substitutive gratifications, which lessen it; and intoxicating +substances, which make us insensitive to it. Something of this kind +is indispensable.[6] Voltaire is aiming at a diversion of interest +when he brings his _Candide_ to a close with the advice that people +should cultivate their gardens; scientific work is another deflection +of the same kind. The substitute gratifications, such as art offers, +are illusions in contrast to reality, but none the less satisfying +to the mind on that account, thanks to the place which phantasy has +reserved for herself in mental life. The intoxicating substances affect +our body, alter its chemical processes. It is not so simple to find +the place where religion belongs in this series. We must look further +afield. + +The question, ‘What is the purpose of human life?’ has been asked times +without number; it has never received a satisfactory answer; perhaps it +does not admit of such an answer. Many a questioner has added that if +it should appear that life has no purpose, then it would lose all value +for him. But these threats alter nothing. It looks, on the contrary, +as though one had a right to dismiss this question, for it seems to +presuppose that belief in the superiority of the human race with which +we are already so familiar in its other expressions. Nobody asks what +is the purpose of the lives of animals, unless peradventure they are +designed to be of service to man. But this, too, will not hold, for +with many animals man can do nothing—except describe, classify and +study them; and countless species have declined to be put even to this +use, by living and dying and becoming extinct before men had set eyes +upon them. So again, only religion is able to answer the question of +the purpose of life. One can hardly go wrong in concluding that the +idea of a purpose in life stands and falls with the religious system. + +We will turn, therefore, to the less ambitious problem, what the +behaviour of men themselves reveals as the purpose and object of their +lives, what they demand of life and wish to attain in it. The answer +to this can hardly be in doubt: they seek happiness, they want to +become happy and to remain so. There are two sides to this striving, a +positive and a negative; it aims on the one hand at eliminating pain +and discomfort, on the other at the experience of intense pleasures. In +its narrower sense the word ‘happiness’ relates only to the last. Thus +human activities branch off in two directions—corresponding to this +double goal—according to which of the two they aim at realizing, either +predominantly or even exclusively. + +As we see, it is simply the pleasure-principle which draws up the +programme of life’s purpose. This principle dominates the operation of +the mental apparatus from the very beginning; there can be no doubt +about its efficiency, and yet its programme is in conflict with the +whole world, with the macrocosm as much as with the microcosm. It +simply cannot be put into execution, the whole constitution of things +runs counter to it; one might say the intention that man should be +‘happy’ is not included in the scheme of ‘Creation’. What is called +happiness in its narrowest sense comes from the satisfaction—most often +instantaneous—of pent-up needs which have reached great intensity, +and by its very nature can only be a transitory experience. When any +condition desired by the pleasure-principle is protracted, it results +in a feeling only of mild comfort; we are so constituted that we +can only intensely enjoy contrasts, much less intensely states in +themselves.[7] Our possibilities of happiness are thus limited from +the start by our very constitution. It is much less difficult to be +unhappy. Suffering comes from three quarters: from our own body, +which is destined to decay and dissolution, and cannot even dispense +with anxiety and pain as danger-signals; from the outer world, which +can rage against us with the most powerful and pitiless forces of +destruction; and finally from our relations with other men. The +unhappiness which has this last origin we find perhaps more painful +than any other; we tend to regard it more or less as a gratuitous +addition, although it cannot be any less an inevitable fate than the +suffering that proceeds from other sources. + +It is no wonder if, under the pressure of these possibilities of +suffering, humanity is wont to reduce its demands for happiness, +just as even the pleasure-principle itself changes into the more +accommodating reality-principle under the influence of external +environment; if a man thinks himself happy if he has merely escaped +unhappiness or weathered trouble; if in general the task of avoiding +pain forces that of obtaining pleasure into the background. Reflection +shows that there are very different ways of attempting to perform this +task; and all these ways have been recommended by the various schools +of wisdom in the art of life and put into practice by men. Unbridled +gratification of all desires forces itself into the foreground as the +most alluring guiding principle in life, but it entails preferring +enjoyment to caution and penalizes itself after short indulgence. The +other methods, in which avoidance of pain is the main motive, are +differentiated according to the source of the suffering against which +they are mainly directed. Some of these measures are extreme and some +moderate, some are one-sided and some deal with several aspects of the +matter at once. Voluntary loneliness, isolation from others, is the +readiest safeguard against the unhappiness that may arise out of human +relations. We know what this means: the happiness found along this +path is that of peace. Against the dreaded outer world one can defend +oneself only by turning away in some other direction, if the difficulty +is to be solved single-handed. There is indeed another and a better +way: that of combining with the rest of the human community and taking +up the attack on nature, thus forcing it to obey human will, under the +guidance of science. One is working then with all for the good of all. +But the most interesting methods for averting pain are those which aim +at influencing the organism itself. In the last analysis all pain is +but sensation; it only exists in so far as we feel it, and we feel it +only in consequence of certain characteristics of our organism. + +The crudest of these methods of influencing the body, but also the most +effective, is the chemical one: that of intoxication. I do not think +anyone entirely understands their operation, but it is a fact that +there are certain substances foreign to the body which, when present +in the blood or tissues, directly cause us pleasurable sensations, +but also so change the conditions of our perceptivity that we become +insensible of disagreeable sensations. The two effects not only take +place simultaneously, they seem to be closely bound up with each other. +But there must be substances in the chemical composition of our bodies +which can do the same, for we know of at least one morbid state, that +of mania, in which a condition similar to this intoxication arises +without any drug being absorbed. Besides this, our normal mental +life shows variations, according to which pleasure is experienced +with more or less ease, and along with this goes a diminished or +increased sensitivity to pain. It is greatly to be regretted that +this toxic aspect of mental processes has so far eluded scientific +research. The services rendered by intoxicating substances in the +struggle for happiness and in warding off misery rank so highly as a +benefit that both individuals and races have given them an established +position within their libido-economy. It is not merely the immediate +gain in pleasure which one owes to them, but also a measure of that +independence of the outer world which is so sorely craved. Men know +that with the help they can get from ‘drowning their cares’ they can +at any time slip away from the oppression of reality and find a refuge +in a world of their own where painful feelings do not enter. We are +aware that it is just this property which constitutes the danger and +injuriousness of intoxicating substances. In certain circumstances +they are to blame when valuable energies which could have been used to +improve the lot of humanity are uselessly wasted. + +The complicated structure of our mental apparatus admits, however, +of a whole series of other kinds of influence. The gratification of +instincts is happiness, but when the outer world lets us starve, +refuses us satisfaction of our needs, they become the cause of very +great suffering. So the hope is born that by influencing these impulses +one may escape some measure of suffering. This type of defence against +pain no longer relates to the sensory apparatus; it seeks to control +the internal sources of our needs themselves. An extreme form of it +consists in annihilation of the instincts, as taught by the wisdom of +the East and practised by the Yogi. When it succeeds, it is true, it +involves giving up all other activities as well (sacrificing the whole +of life), and again, by another path, the only happiness it brings is +that of peace. The same way is taken when the aim is less extreme and +only control of the instincts is sought. When this is so, the higher +mental systems which recognize the reality-principle have the upper +hand. The aim of gratification is by no means abandoned in this case; +a certain degree of protection against suffering is secured, in that +lack of satisfaction causes less pain when the instincts are kept in +check than when they are unbridled. On the other hand, this brings with +it an undeniable reduction in the degree of enjoyment obtainable. The +feeling of happiness produced by indulgence of a wild, untamed craving +is incomparably more intense than is the satisfying of a curbed +desire. The irresistibility of perverted impulses, perhaps the charm of +forbidden things generally, may in this way be explained economically. + +Another method of guarding against pain is by using the +libido-displacements that our mental equipment allows of, by +which it gains so greatly in flexibility. The task is then one of +transferring the instinctual aims into such directions that they +cannot be frustrated by the outer world. Sublimation of the instincts +lends an aid in this. Its success is greatest when a man knows how +to heighten sufficiently his capacity for obtaining pleasure from +mental and intellectual work. Fate has little power against him then. +This kind of satisfaction, such as the artist’s joy in creation, in +embodying his phantasies, or the scientist’s in solving problems or +discovering truth, has a special quality which we shall certainly one +day be able to define metapsychologically. Until then we can only +say metaphorically it seems to us ‘higher and finer’, but compared +with that of gratifying gross primitive instincts, its intensity is +tempered and diffused; it does not overwhelm us physically. The weak +point of this method, however, is that it is not generally applicable; +it is only available to the few. It presupposes special gifts and +dispositions which are not very commonly found in a sufficient degree. +And even to these few it does not secure complete protection against +suffering; it gives no invulnerable armour against the arrows of +fate, and it usually fails when a man’s own body becomes a source of +suffering to him.[8] + +This behaviour reveals clearly enough its aim—that of making oneself +independent of the external world, by looking for happiness in the +inner things of the mind; in the next method the same features are even +more marked. The connection with reality is looser still; satisfaction +is obtained through illusions, which are recognized as such, without +the discrepancy between them and reality being allowed to interfere +with the pleasure they give. These illusions are derived from the life +of phantasy which, at the time when the sense of reality developed, +was expressly exempted from the demands of the reality-test and set +apart for the purpose of fulfilling wishes which would be very hard to +realize. At the head of these phantasy-pleasures stands the enjoyment +of works of art which through the agency of the artist is opened to +those who cannot themselves create.[9] Those who are sensitive to the +influence of art do not know how to rate it high enough as a source of +happiness and consolation in life. Yet art affects us but as a mild +narcotic and can provide no more than a temporary refuge for us from +the hardships of life; its influence is not strong enough to make us +forget real misery. + +Another method operates more energetically and thoroughly; it regards +reality as the source of all suffering, as the one and only enemy, +with whom life is intolerable and with whom therefore all relations +must be broken off if one is to be happy in any way at all. The hermit +turns his back on this world; he will have nothing to do with it. But +one can do more than that; one can try to re-create it, try to build up +another instead, from which the most unbearable features are eliminated +and replaced by others corresponding to one’s own wishes. He who in +his despair and defiance sets out on this path will not as a rule get +very far; reality will be too strong for him. He becomes a madman and +usually finds no one to help him in carrying through his delusion. It +is said, however, that each one of us behaves in some respect like the +paranoiac, substituting a wish-fulfilment for some aspect of the world +which is unbearable to him, and carrying this delusion through into +reality. When a large number of people make this attempt together and +try to obtain assurance of happiness and protection from suffering by a +delusional transformation of reality it acquires special significance. +The religions of humanity, too, must be classified as mass-delusions of +this kind. Needless to say, no one who shares a delusion recognizes it +as such. + +I do not suppose that I have enumerated all the methods by which men +strive to win happiness and keep suffering at bay, and I know, too, +that the material might have been arranged differently. One of these +methods I have not yet mentioned at all—not because I had forgotten +it, but because it will interest us in another connection. How would +it be possible to forget this way of all others of practising the art +of life! It is conspicuous for its remarkable capacity to combine +characteristic features. Needless to say, it, too, strives to bring +about independence of fate—as we may best call it—and with this object +it looks for satisfaction within the mind, and uses the capacity for +displacing libido which we mentioned before, but it does not turn +away from the outer world; on the contrary, it takes a firm hold of +its objects and obtains happiness from an emotional relation to them. +Nor is it content to strive for avoidance of pain—that goal of weary +resignation; rather it passes that by heedlessly and holds fast to +the deep-rooted, passionate striving for a positive fulfilment of +happiness. Perhaps it really comes nearer to this goal than any other +method. I am speaking, of course, of that way of life which makes love +the centre of all things and anticipates all happiness from loving and +being loved. This attitude is familiar enough to all of us; one of the +forms in which love manifests itself, sexual love, gives us our most +intense experience of an overwhelming pleasurable sensation and so +furnishes a prototype for our strivings after happiness. What is more +natural than that we should persist in seeking happiness along the path +by which we first encountered it? The weak side of this way of living +is clearly evident; and were it not for this, no human being would ever +have thought of abandoning this path to happiness in favour of any +other. We are never so defenceless against suffering as when we love, +never so forlornly unhappy as when we have lost our love-object or its +love. But this does not complete the story of that way of life which +bases happiness on love; there is much more to be said about it. + +We may here go on to consider the interesting case in which happiness +in life is sought first and foremost in the enjoyment of beauty, +wherever it is to be found by our senses and our judgement, the beauty +of human forms and movements, of natural objects, of landscapes, +of artistic and even scientific creations. As a goal in life this +aesthetic attitude offers little protection against the menace +of suffering, but it is able to compensate for a great deal. The +enjoyment of beauty produces a particular, mildly intoxicating kind +of sensation. There is no very evident use in beauty; the necessity +of it for cultural purposes is not apparent, and yet civilization +could not do without it. The science of aesthetics investigates the +conditions in which things are regarded as beautiful; it can give no +explanation of the nature or origin of beauty; as usual, its lack of +results is concealed under a flood of resounding and meaningless words. +Unfortunately, psycho-analysis, too, has less to say about beauty than +about most things. Its derivation from the realms of sexual sensation +is all that seems certain; the love of beauty is a perfect example of +a feeling with an inhibited aim. ‘Beauty’ and ‘attraction’ are first +of all the attributes of a sexual object. It is remarkable that the +genitals themselves, the sight of which is always exciting, are hardly +ever regarded as beautiful; the quality of beauty seems, on the other +hand, to attach to certain secondary sexual characters. + +In spite of the incompleteness of these considerations, I will venture +on a few remarks in conclusion of this discussion. The goal towards +which the pleasure-principle impels us—of becoming happy—is not +attainable; yet we may not—nay, cannot—give up the effort to come +nearer to realization of it by some means or other. Very different +paths may be taken towards it: some pursue the positive aspect of the +aim, attainment of pleasure; others the negative, avoidance of pain. +By none of these ways can we achieve all that we desire. In that +modified sense in which we have seen it to be attainable, happiness is +a problem of the economics of the libido in each individual. There is +no sovereign recipe in this matter which suits all; each one must find +out for himself by which particular means he may achieve felicity. All +kinds of different factors will operate to influence his choice. It +depends on how much real gratification he is likely to obtain in the +external world, and how far he will find it necessary to make himself +independent of it; finally, too, on the belief he has in himself of his +power to alter it in accordance with his wishes. Even at this stage +the mental constitution of the individual will play a decisive part, +aside from any external considerations. The man who is predominantly +erotic will choose emotional relationships with others before all +else; the narcissistic type, who is more self-sufficient, will seek +his essential satisfactions in the inner workings of his own soul; the +man of action will never abandon the external world in which he can +essay his power. The interests of narcissistic types will be determined +by their particular gifts and the degree of instinctual sublimation +of which they are capable. When any choice is pursued to an extreme +it penalizes itself, in that it exposes the individual to the dangers +accompanying any one exclusive life-interest which may always prove +inadequate. Just as a cautious business-man avoids investing all his +capital in one concern, so wisdom would probably admonish us also not +to anticipate all our happiness from one quarter alone. Success is +never certain; it depends on the co-operation of many factors, perhaps +on none more than the capacity of the mental constitution to adapt +itself to the outer world and then utilize this last for obtaining +pleasure. Anyone who is born with a specially unfavourable instinctual +constitution, and whose libido-components do not go through the +transformation and modification necessary for successful achievement +in later life, will find it hard to obtain happiness from his external +environment, especially if he is faced with the more difficult tasks. +One last possibility of dealing with life remains to such people and +it offers them at least substitute-gratifications; it takes the form +of the flight into neurotic illness, and they mostly adopt it while +they are still young. Those whose efforts to obtain happiness come to +nought in later years still find consolation in the pleasure of chronic +intoxication, or else they embark upon that despairing attempt at +revolt—psychosis. + +Religion circumscribes these measures of choice and adaptation by +urging upon everyone alike its single way of achieving happiness and +guarding against pain. Its method consists in decrying the value of +life and promulgating a view of the real world that is distorted like a +delusion, and both of these imply a preliminary intimidating influence +upon intelligence. At such a cost—by the forcible imposition of mental +infantilism and inducing a mass-delusion—religion succeeds in saving +many people from individual neuroses. But little more. There are, as we +have said, many paths by which the happiness attainable for man can be +reached, but none which is certain to take him to it. Nor can religion +keep her promises either. When the faithful find themselves reduced in +the end to speaking of God’s ‘inscrutable decree’, they thereby avow +that all that is left to them in their sufferings is unconditional +submission as a last-remaining consolation and source of happiness. And +if a man is willing to come to this, he could probably have arrived +there by a shorter road. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[4] 1927. London: Hogarth Press, 1928. + +[5] Goethe, _Zahmen Xenien IX_ (Gedichte aus dem Nachlass). + +[6] Wilhelm Busch, in _Die fromme Helene_, says the same thing on a +lower level: ‘The man who has cares has brandy too.’ + +[7] Goethe even warns us that ‘nothing is so hard to bear as a train of +happy days’. This may be an exaggeration all the same. + +[8] When there is no special disposition in a man imperatively +prescribing the direction of his life-interest, the ordinary work +all can do for a livelihood can play the part which Voltaire wisely +advocated it should do in our lives. It is not possible to discuss +the significance of work for the economics of the libido adequately +within the limits of a short survey. Laying stress upon importance +of work has a greater effect than any other technique of living in +the direction of binding the individual more closely to reality; in +his work he is at least securely attached to a part of reality, the +human community. Work is no less valuable for the opportunity it and +the human relations connected with it provide for a very considerable +discharge of libidinal component impulses, narcissistic, aggressive +and even erotic, than because it is indispensable for subsistence +and justifies existence in a society. The daily work of earning a +livelihood affords particular satisfaction when it has been selected by +free choice, _i.e._ when through sublimation it enables use to be made +of existing inclinations, of instinctual impulses that have retained +their strength, or are more intense than usual for constitutional +reasons. And yet as a path to happiness work is not valued very highly +by men. They do not run after it as they do after other opportunities +for gratification. The great majority work only when forced by +necessity, and this natural human aversion to work gives rise to the +most difficult social problems. + +[9] Cf. ‘Formulations regarding the Two Principles in Mental +Functioning’ (1911), _Collected Papers_, vol. iv.; and _Introductory +Lectures on Psycho-Analysis_ (1915-17), London, 1922, chapter xxiii. + + + + +III + + +Our discussion of happiness has so far not taught us much that is +not already common knowledge. Nor does the prospect of discovering +anything new seem much greater if we go on with the problem why it +is so hard for mankind to be happy. We gave the answer before, when +we cited the three sources of human sufferings, namely, the superior +force of nature, the disposition to decay of our bodies, and the +inadequacy of our methods of regulating human relations in the family, +the community and the state. In regard to the first two, our judgement +cannot hesitate: it forces us to recognize these sources of suffering +and to submit to the inevitable. We shall never completely subdue +nature; our body, too, is an organism, itself a part of nature, and +will always contain the seeds of dissolution, with its limited powers +of adaptation and achievement. The effect of this recognition is in no +way disheartening; on the contrary, it points out the direction for +our efforts. If we cannot abolish all suffering, yet a great deal of +it we can, and can mitigate more; the experience of several thousand +years has convinced us of this. To the third, the social source of our +distresses, we take up a different attitude. We prefer not to regard +it as one at all; we cannot see why the systems we have ourselves +created should not rather ensure protection and well-being for us all. +To be sure, when we consider how unsuccessful our efforts to safeguard +against suffering in this particular have proved, the suspicion dawns +upon us that a bit of unconquerable nature lurks concealed behind this +difficulty as well—in the shape of our own mental constitution. + +When we start to consider this possibility, we come across a point of +view which is so amazing that we will pause over it. According to it, +our so-called civilization itself is to blame for a great part of our +misery, and we should be much happier if we were to give it up and go +back to primitive conditions. I call this amazing because—however one +may define culture—it is undeniable that every means by which we try +to guard ourselves against menaces from the several sources of human +distress is a part of this same culture. + +How has it come about that so many people have adopted this strange +attitude of hostility to civilization? In my opinion, it arose from +a background of profound long-standing discontent with the existing +state of civilization, which finally crystallized into this judgement +as a result of certain historical happenings. I believe I can identify +the last two of these; I am not learned enough to trace the links in +the chain back into the history of the human species. At the time when +Christianity conquered the pagan religions some such antagonism to +culture must already have been actively at work. It is closely related +to the low estimation put upon earthly life by Christian doctrine. The +earlier of the last two historical developments was when, as a result +of voyages of discovery, men came into contact with primitive peoples +and races. To the Europeans, who failed to observe them carefully +and misunderstood what they saw, these people seemed to lead simple, +happy lives—wanting for nothing—such as the travellers who visited +them, with all their superior culture, were unable to achieve. Later +experience has corrected this opinion on many points; in several +instances the ease of life was due to the bounty of nature and the +possibilities of ready satisfaction for the great human needs, but it +was erroneously attributed to the absence of the complicated conditions +of civilization. The last of the two historical events is especially +familiar to us; it was when people began to understand the nature of +the neuroses which threaten to undermine the modicum of happiness open +to civilized man. It was found that men become neurotic because they +cannot tolerate the degree of privation that society imposes on them +in virtue of its cultural ideals, and it was supposed that a return to +greater possibilities of happiness would ensue if these standards were +abolished or greatly relaxed. + +And there exists an element of disappointment, in addition. In the +last generations man has made extraordinary strides in knowledge +of the natural sciences and technical application of them, and has +established his dominion over nature in a way never before imagined. +The details of this forward progress are universally known: it is +unnecessary to enumerate them. Mankind is proud of its exploits and +has a right to be. But men are beginning to perceive that all this +newly-won power over space and time, this conquest of the forces of +nature, this fulfilment of age-old longings, has not increased the +amount of pleasure they can obtain in life, has not made them feel +any happier. The valid conclusion from this is merely that power over +nature is not the only condition of human happiness, just as it is not +the only goal of civilization’s efforts, and there is no ground for +inferring that its technical progress is worthless from the standpoint +of happiness. It prompts one to exclaim: is it not then a positive +pleasure, an unequivocal gain in happiness, to be able to hear, +whenever I like, the voice of a child living hundreds of miles away, or +to know directly a friend of mine arrives at his destination that he +has come well and safely through the long and troublesome voyage? And +is it nothing that medical science has succeeded in enormously reducing +the mortality of young children, the dangers of infection for women +in childbirth, indeed, in very considerably prolonging the average +length of human life? And there is still a long list one could add +to these benefits that we owe to the much-despised era of scientific +and practical progress—but a critical, pessimistic voice makes itself +heard, saying that most of these advantages follow the model of those +‘cheap pleasures’ in the anecdote. One gets this enjoyment by sticking +one’s bare leg outside the bedclothes on a cold winter’s night and +then drawing it in again. If there were no railway to make light of +distances my child would never have left home and I should not need +the telephone to hear his voice. If there were no vessels crossing the +ocean my friend would never have embarked on his voyage and I should +not need the telegraph to relieve my anxiety about him. What is the +use of reducing the mortality of children when it is precisely this +reduction which imposes the greatest moderation on us in begetting +them, so that taken all round we do not rear more children than in +the days before the reign of hygiene, while at the same time we have +created difficult conditions for sexual life in marriage and probably +counteracted the beneficial effects of natural selection? And what do +we gain by a long life when it is full of hardship and starved of joys +and so wretched that we can only welcome death as our deliverer? + +It seems to be certain that our present-day civilization does not +inspire in us a feeling of well-being, but it is very difficult to +form an opinion whether in earlier times people felt any happier and +what part their cultural conditions played in the question. We always +tend to regard trouble objectively, _i.e._ to place ourselves with +our own wants and our own sensibilities in the same conditions, so +as to discover what opportunities for happiness or unhappiness we +should find in them. This method of considering the problem, which +appears to be objective because it ignores the varieties of subjective +sensitivity, is of course the most subjective possible, for by applying +it one substitutes one’s own mental attitude for the unknown attitude +of other men. Happiness, on the contrary, is something essentially +subjective. However we may shrink in horror at the thought of certain +situations, that of the galley-slaves in antiquity, of the peasants in +the Thirty Years’ War, of the victims of the Inquisition, of the Jews +awaiting a pogrom, it is still impossible for us to feel ourselves +into the position of these people, to imagine the differences which +would be brought about by constitutional obtuseness of feeling, gradual +stupefaction, the cessation of all anticipation, and by all the grosser +and more subtle ways in which insensibility to both pleasurable and +painful sensations can be induced. Moreover, on occasions when the +most extreme forms of suffering have to be endured, special mental +protective devices come into operation. It seems to me unprofitable to +follow up this aspect of the problem further. + +It is time that we should turn our attention to the nature of this +culture, the value of which is so much disputed from the point of +view of happiness. Until we have learnt something by examining it +for ourselves, we will not look round for formulas which express its +essence in a few words. We will be content to repeat[10] that the word +‘culture’ describes the sum of the achievements and institutions which +differentiate our lives from those of our animal forebears and serve +two purposes, namely, that of protecting humanity against nature and of +regulating the relations of human beings among themselves. In order to +learn more than this, we must bring together the individual features +of culture as they are manifested in human communities. We shall have +no hesitation in allowing ourselves to be guided by the common usages +of language, or as one might say, the _feeling_ of language, confident +that we shall thus take into account inner attitudes which still resist +expression in abstract terms. + +The beginning is easy. We recognize as belonging to culture all the +activities and possessions which men use to make the earth serviceable +to them, to protect them against the tyranny of natural forces, and +so on. There is less doubt about this aspect of civilization than +any other. If we go back far enough we find that the first acts of +civilization were the use of tools, the gaining of power over fire, +and the construction of dwellings. Among these the acquisition of +power over fire stands out as a quite exceptional achievement, without +a prototype;[11] while the other two opened up paths which have +ever since been pursued by man, the stimulus towards which is easily +imagined. By means of all his tools, man makes his own organs more +perfect—both the motor and the sensory—or else removes the obstacles +in the way of their activity. Machinery places gigantic power at his +disposal which, like his muscles, he can employ in any direction; ships +and aircraft have the effect that neither air nor water can prevent +his traversing them. With spectacles he corrects the defects of the +lens in his own eyes; with telescopes he looks at far distances; with +the microscope he overcomes the limitations in visibility due to the +structure of his retina. With the photographic camera he has created +an instrument which registers transitory visual impressions, just as +the gramophone does with equally transient auditory ones; both are at +bottom materializations of his own power of memory. With the help of +the telephone he can hear at distances which even fairy-tales would +treat as insuperable; writing to begin with was the voice of the +absent; dwellings were a substitute for the mother’s womb, that first +abode, in which he was safe and felt so content, for which he probably +yearns ever after. + +It sounds like a fairy-tale, but not only that; this story of what man +by his science and practical inventions has achieved on this earth, +where he first appeared as a weakly member of the animal kingdom, and +on which each individual of his species must ever again appear as a +helpless infant—O inch of nature!—is a direct fulfilment of all, or of +most, of the dearest wishes in his fairy-tales. All these possessions +he has acquired through culture. Long ago he formed an ideal conception +of omnipotence and omniscience which he embodied in his gods. Whatever +seemed unattainable to his desires—or forbidden to him—he attributed +to these gods. One may say, therefore, that these gods were the ideals +of his culture. Now he has himself approached very near to realizing +this ideal, he has nearly become a god himself. But only, it is true, +in the way that ideals are usually realized in the general experience +of humanity. Not completely; in some respects not at all, in others +only by halves. Man has become a god by means of artificial limbs, +so to speak, quite magnificent when equipped with all his accessory +organs; but they do not grow on him and they still give him trouble +at times. However, he is entitled to console himself with the thought +that this evolution will not come to an end in A.D. 1930. Future ages +will produce further great advances in this realm of culture, probably +inconceivable now, and will increase man’s likeness to a god still +more. But with the aim of our study in mind, we will not forget, all +the same, that the human being of to-day is not happy with all his +likeness to a god. + +Thus we recognize that a country has attained a high level of +civilization when we find that everything in it that can be helpful in +exploiting the earth for man’s benefit and in protecting him against +nature—everything, in short, that is useful to him—is cultivated +and effectively protected. In such a country the course of rivers +which threaten to overflow their banks is regulated, their waters +guided through canals to places where they are needed. The soil is +industriously cultivated and planted with the vegetation suited to +it; the mineral wealth is brought up assiduously from the depths +and wrought into the implements and utensils that are required. The +means of communication are frequent, rapid and reliable; wild and +dangerous animals have been exterminated, the breeding of tamed and +domesticated ones prospers. But we demand other things besides these of +civilization, and, curiously enough, we expect to find them existing in +the same countries. As if we wished to repudiate the first requisition +we made, we count it also as proof of a high level of civilization +when we see that the industry of the inhabitants is applied as well to +things which are not in the least useful and, on the contrary, seem +to be useless, _e.g._ when the parks and gardens in a town, which +are necessary as playgrounds and air-reservoirs, also bear flowering +plants, or when the windows of dwellings are adorned with flowers. +We soon become aware that the useless thing which we require of +civilization is beauty; we expect a cultured people to revere beauty +where it is found in nature and to create it in their handiwork so +far as they are able. But this is far from exhausting what we require +of civilization. Besides, we expect to see the signs of cleanliness +and order. We do not think highly of the cultural level of an English +country town in the time of Shakespeare when we read that there was +a tall dungheap in front of his father’s house in Stratford; we are +indignant and call it ‘barbarous’, which is the opposite of civilized, +when we find the paths in the Wiener Wald littered with paper. Dirt +of any kind seems to us incompatible with civilization; we extend our +demands for cleanliness to the human body also, and are amazed to hear +what an objectionable odour emanated from the person of the Roi Soleil; +we shake our heads when we are shown the tiny wash-basin on the Isola +Bella which Napoleon used for his daily ablutions. Indeed, we are +not surprised if anyone employs the use of soap as a direct measure +of civilization. It is the same with order, which, like cleanliness, +relates entirely to man’s handiwork. But whereas we cannot expect +cleanliness in nature, order has, on the contrary, been imitated from +nature; man’s observations of the great astronomical periodicities +not only furnished him with a model, but formed the ground-plan of +his first attempts to introduce order into his own life. Order is a +kind of repetition-compulsion by which it is ordained once for all +when, where and how a thing shall be done so that on every similar +occasion doubt and hesitation shall be avoided. The benefits of order +are incontestable: it enables us to use space and time to the best +advantage, while saving expenditure of mental energy. One would be +justified in expecting that it would have ingrained itself from the +start and without opposition into all human activities; and one may +well wonder that this has not happened, and that, on the contrary, +human beings manifest an inborn tendency to negligence, irregularity +and untrustworthiness in their work, and have to be laboriously trained +to imitate the example of their celestial models. + +Beauty, cleanliness and order clearly occupy a peculiar position among +the requirements of civilization. No one will maintain that they are as +essential to life as the activities aimed at controlling the forces of +nature and as other factors which we have yet to mention; and yet no +one would willingly relegate them to the background as trivial matters. +Beauty is an instance which plainly shows that culture is not simply +utilitarian in its aims, for the lack of beauty is a thing we cannot +tolerate in civilization. The utilitarian advantages of order are quite +apparent; with regard to cleanliness we have to remember that it is +required of us by hygiene, and we may surmise that even before the +days of scientific prophylaxis the connection between the two was not +altogether unsuspected by mankind. But these aims and endeavours of +culture are not entirely to be explained on utilitarian lines; there +must be something else at work besides. + +According to general opinion, however, there is one feature of culture +which characterizes it better than any other, and that is the value it +sets upon the higher mental activities—intellectual, scientific, and +aesthetic achievement—the leading part it concedes to ideas in human +life. First and foremost among these ideas come the religious systems +with their complicated evolution, on which I have elsewhere endeavoured +to throw a light; next to them come philosophical speculations; and +last, the ideals man has formed, his conceptions of the perfection +possible in an individual, in a people, in humanity as a whole, and the +demands he makes on the basis of these conceptions. These creations +of his mind are not independent of each other; on the contrary, they +are closely interwoven, and this complicates the attempt to describe +them, as well as that to trace their psychological derivation. If +we assume as a general hypothesis that the force behind all human +activities is a striving towards the two convergent aims of profit +and pleasure, we must then acknowledge this as valid also for these +other manifestations of culture, although it can be plainly recognized +as true only in respect of science and art. It cannot be doubted, +however, that the remainder, too, correspond to some powerful need in +human beings—perhaps to one which develops fully only in a minority of +people. Nor may we allow ourselves to be misled by our own judgements +concerning the value of any of these religious or philosophical +systems or of these ideals; whether we look upon them as the highest +achievement of the human mind, or whether we deplore them as fallacies, +one must acknowledge that where they exist, and especially where they +are in the ascendant, they testify to a high level of civilization. + +We now have to consider the last, and certainly by no means the least +important, of the components of culture, namely, the ways in which +social relations, the relations of one man to another, are regulated, +all that has to do with him as a neighbour, a source of help, a sexual +object to others, a member of a family or of a state. It is especially +difficult in this matter to remain unbiased by any ideal standards +and to ascertain exactly what is specifically cultural here. Perhaps +one might begin with the statement that the first attempt ever made +to regulate these social relations already contained the essential +element of civilization. Had no such attempt been made, these relations +would be subject to the wills of individuals: that is to say, the man +who was physically strongest would decide things in accordance with +his own interests and desires. The situation would remain the same +even though this strong man should in his turn meet with another who +was stronger than he. Human life in communities only becomes possible +when a number of men unite together in strength superior to any single +individual and remain united against all single individuals. The +strength of this united body is then opposed as ‘Right’ against the +strength of any individual, which is condemned as ‘brute force’. This +substitution of the power of a united number for the power of a single +man is the decisive step towards civilization. The essence of it lies +in the circumstance that the members of the community have restricted +their possibilities of gratification, whereas the individual recognized +no such restrictions. The first requisite of culture, therefore, is +justice—that is, the assurance that a law once made will not be broken +in favour of any individual. This implies nothing about the ethical +value of any such law. The further course of cultural development seems +to tend towards ensuring that the law shall no longer represent the +will of any small body—caste, tribe, section of the population—which +may behave like a predatory individual towards other such groups +perhaps containing larger numbers. The end-result would be a state +of law to which all—that is, all who are capable of uniting—have +contributed by making some sacrifice of their own desires, and which +leaves none—again with the same exception—at the mercy of brute force. + +The liberty of the individual is not a benefit of culture. It was +greatest before any culture, though indeed it had little value at +that time, because the individual was hardly in a position to defend +it. Liberty has undergone restrictions through the evolution of +civilization and justice demands that these restrictions shall apply +to all. The desire for freedom that makes itself felt in a human +community may be a revolt against some existing injustice and so may +prove favourable to a further development of civilization and remain +compatible with it. But it may also have its origin in the primitive +roots of the personality, still unfettered by civilizing influences, +and so become a source of antagonism to culture. Thus the cry for +freedom is directed either against particular forms or demands of +culture or else against culture itself. It does not seem as if man +could be brought by any sort of influence to change his nature into +that of the ants; he will always, one imagines, defend his claim to +individual freedom against the will of the multitude. A great part of +the struggles of mankind centres round the single task of finding some +expedient (_i.e._ satisfying) solution between these individual claims +and those of the civilized community; it is one of the problems of +man’s fate whether this solution can be arrived at in some particular +form of culture or whether the conflict will prove irreconcilable. + +We have obtained a clear impression of the general picture presented by +culture through adopting the common view as to which aspects of human +life are to be called cultural; but it is true that so far we have +discovered nothing that is not common knowledge. We have, however, at +the same time guarded ourselves against accepting the misconception +that civilization is synonymous with becoming perfect, is the path by +which man is ordained to reach perfection. But now a certain point +of view presses for consideration; it will lead perhaps in another +direction. The evolution of culture seems to us a peculiar kind of +process passing over humanity, of which several aspects strike us as +familiar. We can describe this process in terms of the modifications +it effects on the known human instinctual dispositions, which it is +the economic task of our lives to satisfy. Some of these instincts +become absorbed, as it were, so that something appears in place of them +which in an individual we call a character-trait. The most remarkable +example of this process is found in respect of the anal erotism of +young human beings. Their primary interest in the excretory function, +its organs and products, is changed in the course of their growth +into a group of traits that we know well—thriftiness, orderliness +and cleanliness—valuable and welcome qualities in themselves, which, +however, may be intensified till they visibly dominate the personality +and produce what we call the anal character. How this happens we do not +know; but there is no doubt about the accuracy of this conclusion.[12] +Now, we have seen that order and cleanliness are essentially +cultural demands, although the necessity of them for survival is not +particularly apparent, any more than their suitability as sources of +pleasure. At this point we must be struck for the first time with the +similarity between the process of cultural development and that of +the libidinal development in an individual. Other instincts have to +be induced to change the conditions of their gratification, to find +it along other paths, a process which is usually identical with what +we know so well as sublimation (of the aim of an instinct), but which +can sometimes be differentiated from this. Sublimation of instinct is +an especially conspicuous feature of cultural evolution; this it is +that makes it possible for the higher mental operations, scientific, +artistic, ideological activities, to play such an important part in +civilized life. If one were to yield to a first impression, one would +be tempted to say that sublimation is a fate which has been forced +upon instincts by culture alone. But it is better to reflect over this +a while longer. Thirdly and lastly, and this seems most important of +all, it is impossible to ignore the extent to which civilization is +built up on renunciation of instinctual gratifications, the degree to +which the existence of civilization presupposes the non-gratification +(suppression, repression or something else?) of powerful instinctual +urgencies. This ‘cultural privation’ dominates the whole field of +social relations between human beings; we know already that it is the +cause of the antagonism against which all civilization has to fight. +It sets hard tasks for our scientific work, too; we have a great deal +to explain here. It is not easy to understand how it can become +possible to withhold satisfaction from an instinct. Nor is it by any +means without risk to do so; if the deprivation is not made good +economically, one may be certain of producing serious disorders. + +But now, if we wish to know what use it is to us to have recognized +the evolution of culture as a special process, comparable to the +normal growth of an individual to maturity, we must clearly attack +another problem and put the question: what are the influences to which +the evolution of culture owes its origin, how did it arise and what +determined its course? + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[10] Cf. _The Future of an Illusion_. + +[11] Psycho-analytic material, as yet incomplete and not capable of +unequivocal interpretation, nevertheless admits of a surmise—which +sounds fantastic enough—about the origin of this human feat. It is +as if primitive man had had the impulse, when he came in contact +with fire, to gratify an infantile pleasure in respect of it and put +it out with a stream of urine. The legends that we possess leave no +doubt that flames shooting upwards like tongues were originally felt +to have a phallic sense. Putting out fire by urinating—which is also +introduced in the later fables of Gulliver in Lilliput and Rabelais’s +Gargantua—therefore represented a sexual act with a man, an enjoyment +of masculine potency in homosexual rivalry. Whoever was the first to +deny himself this pleasure and spare the fire was able to take it +with him and break it in to his own service. By curbing the fire of +his own sexual passion he was able to tame fire as a force of nature. +This great cultural victory was thus a reward for refraining from +gratification of an instinct. Further, it is as if man had placed woman +by the hearth as the guardian of the fire he had taken captive, because +her anatomy makes it impossible for her to yield to such a temptation. +It is remarkable how regularly analytic findings testify to the close +connection between the ideas of ambition, fire and urethral erotism. + +[12] Cf. ‘Character and Anal Erotism’ (1908), _Collected Papers_, vol. +ii.; also numerous contributions to the subject by Ernest Jones and +others. + + + + +IV + + +This task seems too big a one; one may well confess oneself diffident. +Here follows what little I have been able to elicit about it. + +Once primitive man had made the discovery that it lay in his own +hands—speaking literally—to improve his lot on earth by working, it +cannot have been a matter of indifference to him whether another +man worked with him or against him. The other acquired the value +of a fellow-worker, and it was advantageous to live with him. Even +earlier, in his ape-like prehistory, man had adopted the habit of +forming families: his first helpers were probably the members of his +family. One may suppose that the founding of families was in some way +connected with the period when the need for genital satisfaction, +no longer appearing like an occasional guest who turns up suddenly +and then vanishes without letting one hear anything of him for long +intervals, had settled down with each man like a permanent lodger. When +this happened, the male acquired a motive for keeping the female, or +rather, his sexual objects, near him; while the female, who wanted +not to be separated from her helpless young, in their interests, too, +had to stay by the stronger male.[13] In this primitive family one +essential feature of culture is lacking; the will of the father, the +head of it, was unfettered. I have endeavoured in _Totem und Tabu_ to +show how the way led from this family-life to the succeeding phase of +communal existence in the form of a band of brothers. By overpowering +the father, the sons had discovered that several men united can be +stronger than a single man. The totemic stage of culture is founded +upon the restrictions that the band were obliged to impose on one +another in order to maintain the new system. These taboos were the +first ‘Right’ or law. The life of human beings in common therefore +had a twofold foundation, _i.e._ the compulsion to work, created by +external necessity, and the power of love, causing the male to wish to +keep his sexual object, the female, near him, and the female to keep +near her that part of herself which has become detached from her, her +child. Eros and Ananke were the parents of human culture, too. The +first result of culture was that a larger number of human beings could +then live together in common. And since the two great powers were here +co-operating together, one might have expected that further cultural +evolution would have proceeded smoothly towards ever greater mastery +over the external world, as well as towards greater extension in the +numbers of men sharing the life in common. Nor is it easy to understand +how this culture can be felt as anything but satisfying by those who +partake of it. + +Before we go on to enquire where the disturbances in it arise, we will +let ourselves digress from the point that love was one of the founders +of culture and so fill a gap left in our previous discussion. We +said that man, having found by experience that sexual (genital) love +afforded him his greatest gratification, so that it became in effect a +prototype of all happiness to him, must have been thereby impelled to +seek his happiness further along the path of sexual relations, to make +genital erotism the central point of his life. We went on to say that +in so doing he becomes to a very dangerous degree dependent on a part +of the outer world, namely, on his chosen love-object, and this exposes +him to most painful sufferings if he is rejected by it or loses it +through death or defection. The wise men of all ages have consequently +warned us emphatically against this way of life; but in spite of all it +retains its attraction for a great number of people. + +A small minority are enabled by their constitution nevertheless +to find happiness along the path of love; but far-reaching mental +transformations of the erotic function are necessary before this is +possible. These people make themselves independent of their object’s +acquiescence by transferring the main value from the fact of being +loved to their own act of loving; they protect themselves against loss +of it by attaching their love not to individual objects but to all +men equally, and they avoid the uncertainties and disappointments of +genital love by turning away from its sexual aim and modifying the +instinct into an impulse with an _inhibited aim_. The state which they +induce in themselves by this process—an unchangeable, undeviating, +tender attitude—has little superficial likeness to the stormy +vicissitudes of genital love, from which it is nevertheless derived. +It seems that Saint Francis of Assisi may have carried this method of +using love to produce an inner feeling of happiness as far as anyone; +what we are thus characterizing as one of the procedures by which the +pleasure-principle fulfils itself has in fact been linked up in many +ways with religion; the connection between them may lie in those remote +fastnesses of the mind where the distinctions between the ego and +objects and between the various objects become matters of indifference. +From one ethical standpoint, the deeper motivation of which will +later become clear to us, this inclination towards an all-embracing +love of others and of the world at large is regarded as the highest +state of mind of which man is capable. Even at this early stage in the +discussion I will not withhold the two principal objections we have to +raise against this view. A love that does not discriminate seems to +us to lose some of its own value, since it does an injustice to its +object. And secondly, not all men are worthy of love. + +The love that instituted the family still retains its power; in its +original form it does not stop short of direct sexual satisfaction, and +in its modified form as aim-inhibited friendliness it influences our +civilization. In both these forms it carries on its task of binding +men and women to one another, and it does this with greater intensity +than can be achieved through the interest of work in common. The casual +and undifferentiated way in which the word ‘love’ is employed by +language has its genetic justification. In general usage the relation +between a man and a woman whose genital desires have led them to found +a family is called love; but the positive attitude of feeling between +parents and children, between brothers and sisters in a family, is +also called love, although to us this relation merits the description +of aim-inhibited love or affection. Love with an inhibited aim was +indeed originally full sensual love and in men’s unconscious minds is +so still. Both of them, the sensual and the aim-inhibited forms, reach +out beyond the family and create new bonds with others who before +were strangers. Genital love leads to the forming of new families; +aim-inhibited love to ‘friendships’, which are valuable culturally +because they do not entail many of the limitations of genital love—for +instance, its exclusiveness. But the interrelations between love and +culture lose their simplicity as development proceeds. On the one hand, +love opposes the interests of culture; on the other, culture menaces +love with grievous restrictions. + +This rift between them seems inevitable; the cause of it is not +immediately recognizable. It expresses itself first in a conflict +between the family and the larger community to which the individual +belongs. We have seen already that one of culture’s principal +endeavours is to cement men and women together into larger units. But +the family will not give up the individual. The closer the attachment +between the members of it, the more they often tend to remain aloof +from others, and the harder it is for them to enter into the wider +circle of the world at large. That form of life in common which is +phylogenetically older, and is in childhood its only form, resists +being displaced by the type that becomes acquired later with culture. +Detachment from the family has become a task that awaits every +adolescent, and often society helps him through it with pubertal and +initiatory rites. One gets the impression that these difficulties form +an integral part of every process of mental evolution—and indeed, at +bottom, of every organic development, too. + +The next discord is caused by women, who soon become antithetical to +cultural trends and spread around them their conservative influence—the +women who at the beginning laid the foundations of culture by the +appeal of their love. Women represent the interests of the family and +sexual life; the work of civilization has become more and more men’s +business; it confronts them with ever harder tasks, compels them to +sublimations of instinct which women are not easily able to achieve. +Since man has not an unlimited amount of mental energy at his disposal, +he must accomplish his tasks by distributing his libido to the best +advantage. What he employs for cultural purposes he withdraws to a +great extent from women and his sexual life; his constant association +with men and his dependence on his relations with them even estrange +him from his duties as husband and father. Woman finds herself thus +forced into the background by the claims of culture and she adopts an +inimical attitude towards it. + +The tendency of culture to set restrictions upon sexual life is no +less evident than its other aim of widening its sphere of operations. +Even the earliest phase of it, the totemic, brought in its train the +prohibition against incestuous object-choice, perhaps the most maiming +wound ever inflicted throughout the ages on the erotic life of man. +Further limitations are laid on it by taboos, laws and customs, which +touch men as well as women. Various types of culture differ in the +lengths to which they carry this; and the material structure of the +social fabric also affects the measure of sexual freedom that remains. +We have seen that culture obeys the laws of psychological economic +necessity in making the restrictions, for it obtains a great part of +the mental energy it needs by subtracting it from sexuality. Culture +behaves towards sexuality in this respect like a tribe or a section +of the population which has gained the upper hand and is exploiting +the rest to its own advantage. Fear of a revolt among the oppressed +then becomes a motive for even stricter regulations. A high-water mark +in this type of development has been reached in our Western European +civilization. Psychologically it is fully justified in beginning by +censuring any manifestations of the sexual life of children, for there +would be no prospect of curbing the sexual desires of adults if the +ground had not been prepared for it in childhood. Nevertheless there +is no sort of justification for the lengths beyond this to which +civilized society goes in actually denying the existence of these +manifestations, which are not merely demonstrable but positively +glaring. Where sexually mature persons are concerned, object-choice is +further narrowed down to the opposite sex and most of the extragenital +forms of satisfaction are interdicted as perversions. The standard +which declares itself in these prohibitions is that of a sexual life +identical for all; it pays no heed to the disparities in the inborn +and acquired sexual constitutions of individuals and cuts off a +considerable number of them from sexual enjoyment, thus becoming a +cause of grievous injustice. The effect of these restrictive measures +might presumably be that all the sexual interest of those who are +normal and not constitutionally handicapped could flow without further +forfeiture into the channel left open to it. But the only outlet not +thus censured, heterosexual genital love, is further circumscribed by +the barriers of legitimacy and monogamy. Present-day civilization gives +us plainly to understand that sexual relations are permitted only on +the basis of a final, indissoluble bond between a man and woman; that +sexuality as a source of enjoyment for its own sake is unacceptable +to it; and that its intention is to tolerate it only as the hitherto +irreplaceable means of multiplying the human race. + +This, of course, represents an extreme. Everyone knows that it has +proved impossible to put it into execution, even for short periods. +Only the weaklings have submitted to such comprehensive interference +with their sexual freedom, and stronger natures have done so only +under one compensatory condition, of which mention may be made later. +Civilized society has seen itself obliged to pass over in silence many +transgressions which by its own ordinances it ought to have penalized. +This does not justify anyone, however, in leaning towards the other +side and assuming that, because it does not achieve all it aims at, +such an attitude on the part of society is altogether harmless. The +sexual life of civilized man is seriously disabled, whatever we may +say; it sometimes makes an impression of being a function in process of +becoming atrophied, just as organs like our teeth and our hair seem to +be. One is probably right in supposing that the importance of sexuality +as a source of pleasurable sensations, _i.e._ as a means of fulfilling +the purpose of life, has perceptibly decreased.[14] Sometimes one +imagines one perceives that it is not only the oppression of culture, +but something in the nature of the function itself that denies us full +satisfaction and urges us in other directions. This may be an error; +it is hard to decide.[15] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[13] The organic periodicity of the sexual process has persisted, it +is true, but its effect on mental sexual excitation has been almost +reversed. This change is connected primarily with the diminishing +importance of the olfactory stimuli by means of which the menstrual +process produced sexual excitement in the mind of the male. Their +function was taken over by visual stimuli, which could operate +permanently, instead of intermittently like the olfactory ones. The +‘taboo of menstruation’ has its origin in this ‘organic repression’, +which acted as a barrier against a phase of development that had been +surpassed; all its other motivations are probably of a secondary +nature. (Cf. C. D. Daly, ‘Hindu-mythologie und Kastrationskomplex’, +_Imago_, Bd. xiii., 1927.) This process is repeated on a different +level when the gods of a foregone cultural epoch are changed into +demons in the next. The diminution in importance of olfactory stimuli +seems itself, however, to be a consequence of man’s erecting himself +from the earth, of his adoption of an upright gait, which made his +genitals, that before had been covered, visible and in need of +protection and so evoked feelings of shame. Man’s erect posture, +therefore, would represent the beginning of the momentous process +of cultural evolution. The chain of development would run from this +onward, through the diminution in the importance of olfactory stimuli +and the isolation of women at their periods to a time when visual +stimuli became paramount, the genitals became visible, further till +sexual excitation became constant and the family was founded, and so to +the threshold of human culture. This is only a theoretical speculation, +but it is important enough to be worth checking carefully by the +conditions obtaining among the animals closely allied to man. + +There is an unmistakable social factor at work in the impulse of +civilization towards cleanliness, which has been subsequently justified +by considerations of hygiene but had nevertheless found expression +before they were appreciated. The impulse towards cleanliness +originates in the striving to get rid of excretions which have become +unpleasant to the sense-perceptions. We know that things are different +in the nursery. Excreta arouse no aversion in children; they seem +precious to them, as being parts of their own bodies which have been +detached from them. The training of children is very energetic in +this particular; its object is to expedite the development that lies +ahead of them, according to which the excreta are to become worthless, +disgusting, horrible and despicable to them. Such a reversal of +values would be almost impossible to bring about, were it not that +these substances expelled from the body are destined by their strong +odours to share the fate that overtook the olfactory stimuli after +man had erected himself from the ground. Anal erotism, therefore, is +from the first subjected to the ‘organic repression’ which opened up +the way to culture. The social factor which has been active in the +further modifications of anal erotism comes into play with the fact +that in spite of all man’s evolutionary progress the smell of his own +excretions is scarcely disagreeable to him yet, but so far only that +of the evacuations of others. The man who is not clean, _i.e._ who +does not eliminate his excretions, therefore offends others, shows no +consideration for them—a fact which is exemplified in the commonest +and most forcible terms of abuse. It would be incomprehensible, too, +that man should use as an abusive epithet the name of his most faithful +friend in the animal world, if dogs did not incur the contempt of men +through two of their characteristics, _i.e._ that they are creatures of +smell and have no horror of excrement, and, secondly, that they are not +ashamed of their sexual functions. + +[14] There is a short story, which I valued long ago, by a highly +sensitive writer, the Englishman, John Galsworthy, who to-day enjoys +general recognition; it is called ‘The Apple Tree’. It shows in a very +moving and forcible way how there is no longer any place in present-day +civilized life for a simple natural love between two human beings. + +[15] The following considerations would support the view expressed +above. Man, too, is an animal with an unmistakably bisexual +disposition. The individual represents a fusion of two symmetrical +halves, of which, according to many authorities, one is purely male, +the other female. It is equally possible that each half was originally +hermaphroditic. Sex is a biological fact which is hard to evaluate +psychologically, although it is of extraordinary importance in mental +life. We are accustomed to say that every human being displays both +male and female instinctual impulses, needs and attributes, but the +characteristics of what is male and female can only be demonstrated +in anatomy, and not in psychology. Where the latter is concerned, the +antithesis of sex fades away into that of activity and passivity, and +we far too readily identify activity with masculinity and passivity +with femininity, a statement which is by no means universally confirmed +in the animal world. The theory of bisexuality is still very obscure +and in psycho-analysis we must be painfully aware of the disadvantage +we are under as long as it still remains unconnected with the theory of +instincts. However this may be, if we assume it to be a fact that each +individual has both male and female desires which need satisfaction +in his sexual life, we shall be prepared for the possibility that +these needs will not both be gratified on the same object, and that +they will interfere with each other, if they cannot be kept apart so +that each impulse flows into a special channel suited for it. Another +difficulty arises from the circumstance that so often a measure of +direct aggressiveness is coupled with an erotic relationship, over and +above its inherent sadistic components. The love-object does not always +view these complications with the degree of understanding and tolerance +manifested by the peasant woman who complained that her husband did not +love her any more, because he had not beaten her for a week. + +The conjecture which leads furthest, however, is that—and here we come +back to the remarks in the footnote on p. 66—the whole of sexuality +and not merely anal erotism is threatened with falling a victim to the +organic repression consequent upon man’s adoption of the erect posture +and the lowering in value of the sense of smell; so that since that +time the sexual function has been associated with a resistance not +susceptible of further explanation, which puts obstacles in the way +of full satisfaction and forces it away from its sexual aim towards +sublimations and displacements of libido. I am aware that Bleuler +(in ‘Der Sexualwiderstand’, _Jahrbuch für psychoanalytische und +psychopathologische Forschungen_, Bd. v., 1913) once pointed out the +existence of a fundamental tendency of this kind towards rejecting +sexual life. All neurotics, and many others too, take exception to +the fact that ‘inter urinas et faeces nascimur’. The genitals, too, +excite the olfactory sense strongly in a way that many people cannot +tolerate and which spoils sexual intercourse for them. Thus we should +find, as the deepest root of the sexual repression that marches with +culture, the organic defence of the new form of life that began with +the erect posture against the earliest type of animal existence—a +result of scientific researches that coincides in a curious way with +often expressed vulgar prejudices. At the present time, nevertheless, +these results are but unconfirmed possibilities, not yet scientifically +substantiated. Nor should we forget that, in spite of the undeniable +diminution in the importance of olfactory stimuli, there exist even in +Europe races who prize highly as aphrodisiacs the strong genital odours +so objectionable to us and who will not renounce them. (Cf. the reports +of folkloristic information obtained by Iwan Bloch’s ‘Questionnaire’, +appearing under the title of ‘Über den Geruchssinn in der vita +sexualis’ in various volumes of Friedrich S. Krauss’ _Anthropophyteia_.) + + + + +V + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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] + +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 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!_’ + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[16] A great poet may permit himself, at least in jest, to give +utterance to psychological truths that are heavily censured. Thus +Heine: ‘Mine is the most peaceable disposition. My wishes are a humble +dwelling with a thatched roof, but a good bed, good food, milk and +butter of the freshest, flowers at my windows, some fine tall trees +before my door; and if the good God wants to make me completely happy, +he will grant me the joy of seeing some six or seven of my enemies +hanging from these trees. With my heart full of deep emotion I shall +forgive them before they die all the wrong they did me in their +lifetime—true, one must forgive one’s enemies, but not until they are +brought to execution.’ (Heine, _Gedanken und Einfälle_.) + +[17] Anyone who has been through the misery of poverty in his youth, +and has endured the indifference and arrogance of those who have +possessions, should be exempt from the suspicion that he has no +understanding of or goodwill towards the endeavours made to fight the +economic inequality of men and all that it leads to. To be sure, if an +attempt is made to base this fight upon an abstract demand for equality +for all in the name of justice, there is a very obvious objection to +be made, namely, that nature began the injustice by the highly unequal +way in which she endows individuals physically and mentally, for which +there is no help. + +[18] Cf. _Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego_ (1921). +London: Hogarth Press, 1922. + + + + +VI + + +Never before in any of my previous writings have I had the feeling so +strongly as I have now that what I am describing is common knowledge, +that I am requisitioning paper and ink, and in due course the labour of +compositors and printers, in order to expound things that in themselves +are obvious. For this reason, if it should appear that the recognition +of a special independent instinct of aggression would entail a +modification of the psycho-analytical theory of instincts, I should be +glad enough to seize upon the idea. + +We shall see that this is not so, that it is merely a matter of coming +to closer quarters with a conclusion to which we long ago committed +ourselves and following it out to its logical consequences. The whole +of analytic theory has evolved gradually enough, but the theory of +instincts has groped its way forward under greater difficulties +than any other part of it. And yet a theory of instincts was so +indispensable for the rest that something had to be adopted in +place of it. In my utter perplexity at the beginning, I took as my +starting-point the poet-philosopher Schiller’s aphorism, that hunger +and love make the world go round. Hunger would serve to represent those +instincts which aim at preservation of the individual; love seeks for +objects: its chief function, which is favoured in every way by nature, +is preservation of the species. Thus first arose the contrast between +ego instincts and object instincts. For the energy of the latter +instincts and exclusively for them I introduced the term libido; an +antithesis was thus formed between the ego instincts and the libidinal +instincts directed towards objects, _i.e._ love in its widest sense. +One of these object instincts, the sadistic, certainly stood out from +the rest in that its aim was so very unloving; moreover, it clearly +allied itself in many of its aspects with the ego instincts, and its +close kinship with instincts of mastery without any libidinal purpose +could not be concealed, but these ambiguities could be overcome; in +spite of them, sadism plainly belonged to sexual life—the game of +cruelty could take the place of the game of love. Neurosis appeared as +the outcome of a struggle between the interests of self-preservation +and the claims of libido, a struggle in which the ego was victorious, +but at the price of great suffering and renunciations. + +Every analyst will admit that none of this even now reads like +a statement long since recognized as erroneous. All the same, +modifications had to be made as our researches advanced from the +repressed to the repressing, from the object instincts to the ego. A +cardinal point in this advance was the introduction of the concept of +narcissism, _i.e._ the idea that libido cathects the ego itself, that +its first dwelling-place was in the ego, and that the latter remains +to some extent its permanent headquarters. This narcissistic libido +turns in the direction of objects, thus becoming object-libido, and +can transform itself back into narcissistic libido. The concept of +narcissism made it possible to consider the traumatic neuroses, as +well as many diseases bordering on the psychoses, and also the latter +themselves, from the psycho-analytic angle. It was not necessary to +abandon the view that the transference-neuroses are attempts on the +part of the ego to guard itself against sexuality, but the concept of +the libido was jeopardized. Since the ego-instincts were found to be +libidinal as well, it seemed for a time inevitable that libido should +become synonymous with instinctual energy in general, as C. G. Jung +had previously advocated. Yet there still remained in me a kind of +conviction, for which as yet there were no grounds, that the instincts +could not all be of the same nature. I made the next step in _Beyond +the Pleasure Principle_ (1920), when the repetition-compulsion and the +conservative character of instinctual life first struck me. On the +basis of speculations concerning the origin of life and of biological +parallels, I drew the conclusion that, beside the instinct preserving +the organic substance and binding it into ever larger units,[19] there +must exist another in antithesis to this, which would seek to dissolve +these units and reinstate their antecedent inorganic state. That is to +say, a death instinct as well as Eros; the phenomena of life would then +be explicable from the interplay of the two and their counteracting +effects on each other. It was not easy, however, to demonstrate the +working of this hypothetical death instinct. The manifestations of +Eros were conspicuous and audible enough; one might assume that +the death instinct worked silently within the organism towards its +disintegration, but that, of course, was no proof. The idea that part +of the instinct became directed towards the outer world and then showed +itself as an instinct of aggression and destruction carried us a step +further. The instinct would thus itself have been pressed into the +service of Eros, in that the organism would be destroying something +animate or inanimate outside itself instead of itself. Conversely, any +cessation of this flow outwards must have the effect of intensifying +the self-destruction which in any case would always be going on +within. From this example one could then surmise that the two kinds of +instincts seldom—perhaps never—appear in isolation, but always mingle +with each other in different, very varying proportions, and so make +themselves unrecognizable to us. Sadism, long since known to us as a +component-instinct of sexuality, would represent a particularly strong +admixture of the instinct of destruction into the love impulse; while +its counterpart, masochism, would be an alliance between sexuality and +the destruction at work within the self, in consequence of which the +otherwise imperceptible destructive trend became directly evident and +palpable. + +The assumption of the existence of a death instinct or a destruction +instinct has roused opposition even in analytical circles; I know +that there is a great tendency to ascribe all that is dangerous and +hostile in love rather to a fundamental bipolarity in its own nature. +The conceptions I have summarized here I first put forward only +tentatively, but in the course of time they have won such a hold +over me that I can no longer think in any other way. To my mind they +are theoretically far more fruitful than any others it is possible +to employ; they provide us with that simplification, without either +ignoring or doing violence to the facts, which is what we strive after +in scientific work. I know that we have always had before our eyes +manifestations of the destruction instinct fused with erotism, directed +outwards and inwards in sadism and masochism; but I can no longer +understand how we could have overlooked the universality of non-erotic +aggression and destruction, and could have omitted to give it its +due significance in our interpretation of life. (It is true that the +destructive trend that is directed inwards, when it is not erotically +tinged, usually eludes our perceptions.) I can remember my own +defensive attitude when the idea of an instinct of destruction first +made its appearance in psycho-analytical literature and how long it +took until I became accessible to it. That others should have shown the +same resistance, and still show it, surprises me less. Those who love +fairy-tales do not like it when people speak of the innate tendencies +in mankind towards aggression, destruction and, in addition, cruelty. +For God has made them in his own image, with his own perfections; no +one wants to be reminded how hard it is to reconcile the undeniable +existence—in spite of all the protestations of Christian Science—of +evil with His omnipotence and supreme goodness. The devil is, in fact, +the best way out in acquittal of God; he can be used to play the same +economic rôle of outlet as Jews in the world of Aryan ideals. But even +so, one can just as well hold God responsible for the existence of the +devil as for the evil he personifies. In view of these difficulties, +it is expedient for every man to make humble obeisance on suitable +occasions in honour of the high-minded nature of men; it will assist +him to become universally beloved and much shall be forgiven unto him +on account of it.[20] + +The name libido can again be used to denote the manifestations of +the power of Eros in contradistinction to the energy of the death +instinct.[21] We must confess that it is more difficult for us to +detect the latter, and to a great extent we can merely conjecture its +existence as a background to Eros, also that it eludes us wherever +it is not betrayed by a fusion with Eros. In sadism, where it bends +the erotic aim to its own will and yet at the same time gratifies the +sexual craving completely, we can obtain the clearest insight into its +nature and its relation to Eros. But even where it shows itself without +any sexual purpose, even in the blindest frenzy of destructiveness, one +cannot ignore the fact that satisfaction of it is accompanied by an +extraordinarily intense narcissistic enjoyment, due to the fulfilment +it brings to the ego of its oldest omnipotence-wishes. The instinct +of destruction, when tempered and harnessed (as it were, inhibited in +its aim) and directed towards objects, is compelled to provide the +ego with satisfaction of its needs and with power over nature. Since +the assumption of its existence is based essentially on theoretical +grounds, it must be confessed that it is not entirely proof against +theoretical objections. But this is how things appear to us now in the +present state of our knowledge; future research and reflection will +undoubtedly bring further light which will decide the question. + +In all that follows I take up the standpoint that the tendency to +aggression is an innate, independent, instinctual disposition in man, +and I come back now to the statement that it constitutes the most +powerful obstacle to culture. At one point in the course of this +discussion the idea took possession of us that culture was a peculiar +process passing over human life and we are still under the influence +of this idea. We may add to this that the process proves to be in +the service of Eros, which aims at binding together single human +individuals, then families, then tribes, races, nations, into one great +unity, that of humanity. Why this has to be done we do not know; it +is simply the work of Eros. These masses of men must be bound to one +another libidinally; necessity alone, the advantages of common work, +would not hold them together. The natural instinct of aggressiveness in +man, the hostility of each one against all and of all against each one, +opposes this programme of civilization. This instinct of aggression is +the derivative and main representative of the death instinct we have +found alongside of Eros, sharing his rule over the earth. And now, +it seems to me, the meaning of the evolution of culture is no longer +a riddle to us. It must present to us the struggle between Eros and +Death, between the instincts of life and the instincts of destruction, +as it works itself out in the human species. This struggle is what +all life essentially consists of and so the evolution of civilization +may be simply described as the struggle of the human species for +existence.[22] And it is this battle of the Titans that our nurses and +governesses try to compose with their lullaby-song of Heaven! + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[19] The contradiction between the tireless tendency of Eros to spread +ever further and the general conservative nature of the instincts +here becomes very noticeable; it would serve as the starting-point of +enquiries into further problems. + +[20] In Goethe’s Mephistopheles we have a quite exceptionally +striking identification of the principle of evil with the instinct of +destruction: + + ‘All entities that be + Deserve their end—nonentity.’ + + * * * * * + + ‘So all that you name sin, destruction— + Wickedness, briefly—proves to be + The native element for me.’ + +As his adversary, the devil himself cites not what is holy and good, +but the power in nature working towards the creation and renewal of +life—that is, Eros. + + ‘From air, from water, germs in thousands, + As from the soil, break forth, break free, + Dry, wet, warm, cold—a pullulation! + Had I not laid on flame a reservation, + Nothing were set apart for me.’ + + +[21] Our present point of view can be roughly expressed in the +statement that libido participates in every instinctual manifestation, +but that not everything in that manifestation is libido. + +[22] And we may probably add more precisely that its form was +necessarily determined after some definite event which still remains to +be discovered. + + + + +VII + + +Why do the animals, kin to ourselves, not manifest any such cultural +struggle? Oh, we don’t know. Very probably certain of them, bees, ants, +termites, had to strive for thousands of centuries before they found +the way to those state institutions, that division of functions, those +restrictions upon individuals, which we admire them for to-day. It is +characteristic of our present state that we know by our own feelings +that we should not think ourselves happy in any of these communities of +the animal world, or in any of the rôles they delegate to individuals. +With other animal species it may be that a temporary deadlock has been +reached between the influences of their environment and the instincts +contending within them, so that a cessation of development has taken +place. In primitive man a fresh access of libido may have kindled a new +spurt of energy on the part of the instinct of destruction. There are a +great many questions in all this to which as yet we have no answer. + +Another question concerns us more closely now. What means does +civilization make use of to hold in check the aggressiveness that +opposes it, to make it harmless, perhaps to get rid of it? Some of +these measures we have already come to know, though not yet the one +that is apparently the most important. We can study it in the evolution +of the individual. What happens in him to render his craving for +aggression innocuous? Something very curious, that we should never +have guessed and that yet seems simple enough. The aggressiveness is +introjected, ‘internalized’; in fact, it is sent back where it came +from, _i.e._ directed against the ego. It is there taken over by a part +of the ego that distinguishes itself from the rest as a super-ego, +and now, in the form of ‘conscience’, exercises the same propensity +to harsh aggressiveness against the ego that the ego would have liked +to enjoy against others. The tension between the strict super-ego and +the subordinate ego we call the sense of guilt; it manifests itself as +the need for punishment. Civilization therefore obtains the mastery +over the dangerous love of aggression in individuals by enfeebling and +disarming it and setting up an institution within their minds to keep +watch over it, like a garrison in a conquered city. + +As to the origin of the sense of guilt, analysts have different +views from those of the psychologists; nor is it easy for analysts to +explain it either. First of all, when one asks how a sense of guilt +arises in anyone, one is told something one cannot dispute: people feel +guilty (pious people call it ‘sinful’) when they have done something +they know to be ‘bad’. But then one sees how little this answer tells +one. Perhaps after some hesitation one will add that a person who has +not actually committed a bad act, but has merely become aware of the +intention to do so, can also hold himself guilty; and then one will ask +why in this case the intention is counted as equivalent to the deed. In +both cases, however, one is presupposing that wickedness has already +been recognized as reprehensible, as something that ought not to be +put into execution. How is this judgement arrived at? One may reject +the suggestion of an original—as one might say, natural—capacity for +discriminating between good and evil. Evil is often not at all that +which would injure or endanger the ego; on the contrary, it can also be +something that it desires, that would give it pleasure. An extraneous +influence is evidently at work; it is this that decides what is to +be called good and bad. Since their own feelings would not have led +men along the same path, they must have had a motive for obeying this +extraneous influence. It is easy to discover this motive in man’s +helplessness and dependence upon others; it can best be designated the +dread of losing love. If he loses the love of others on whom he is +dependent, he will forfeit also their protection against many dangers, +and above all he runs the risk that this stronger person will show his +superiority in the form of punishing him. What is bad is, therefore, to +begin with, whatever causes one to be threatened with a loss of love; +because of the dread of this loss, one must desist from it. That is why +it makes little difference whether one has already committed the bad +deed or only intends to do so; in either case the danger begins only +when the authority has found it out, and the latter would behave in the +same way in both cases. + +We call this state of mind a ‘bad conscience’ but actually it does not +deserve this name, for at this stage the sense of guilt is obviously +only the dread of losing love, ‘social’ anxiety. In a little child +it can never be anything else, but in many adults too it has only +changed in so far as the larger human community takes the place of +the father or of both parents. Consequently such people habitually +permit themselves to do any bad deed that procures them something they +want, if only they are sure that no authority will discover it or make +them suffer for it; their anxiety relates only to the possibility +of detection.[23] Present-day society has to take into account the +prevalence of this state of mind. + +A great change takes place as soon as the authority has been +internalized by the development of a super-ego. The manifestations of +conscience are then raised to a new level; to be accurate, one should +not call them conscience and sense of guilt before this.[24] At this +point the dread of discovery ceases to operate and also once for all +any difference between doing evil and wishing to do it, since nothing +is hidden from the super-ego, not even thoughts. The real seriousness +of the situation has vanished, it is true: for the new authority, the +super-ego, has no motive, as far as we know, for ill-treating the +ego with which it is itself closely bound up. But the influence of +the genetic derivation of these things, which causes what has been +outlived and surmounted to be re-lived, manifests itself so that on +the whole things remain as they were at the beginning. The super-ego +torments the sinful ego with the same feelings of dread and watches for +opportunities whereby the outer world can be made to punish it. + +At this second stage of development, conscience exhibits a peculiarity +which was absent in the first and is not very easy to account for. +That is, the more righteous a man is the stricter and more suspicious +will his conscience be, so that ultimately it is precisely those +people who have carried holiness farthest who reproach themselves +with the deepest sinfulness. This means that virtue forfeits some of +her promised reward; the submissive and abstemious ego does not enjoy +the trust and confidence of its mentor, and, as it seems, strives in +vain to earn it. Now, to this some people will be ready to object +that these difficulties are artificialities. A relatively strict and +vigilant conscience is the very sign of a virtuous man, and though +saints may proclaim themselves sinners, they are not so wrong, in view +of the temptations of instinctual gratifications to which they are +peculiarly liable—since, as we know, temptations do but increase under +constant privation, whereas they subside, at any rate temporarily, +if they are sometimes gratified. The field of ethics is rich in +problems, and another of the facts we find here is that misfortune, +_i.e._ external deprivation, greatly intensifies the strength of +conscience in the super-ego. As long as things go well with a man, his +conscience is lenient and lets the ego do all kinds of things; when +some calamity befalls, he holds an inquisition within, discovers his +sin, heightens the standards of his conscience, imposes abstinences +on himself and punishes himself with penances.[25] Whole peoples have +acted in this way and still do so. But this is easily explained from +the original infantile stage of conscience which, as we thus see, is +not abandoned after the introjection into the super-ego, but persists +alongside and behind the latter. Fate is felt to be a substitute for +the agency of the parents: adversity means that one is no longer loved +by this highest power of all, and, threatened by this loss of love, +one humbles oneself again before the representative of the parents in +the super-ego which in happier days one had tried to disregard. This +becomes especially clear when destiny is looked upon in the strictly +religious sense as the expression of God’s will and nothing else. The +people of Israel believed themselves to be God’s favourite child, and +when the great Father hurled visitation after visitation upon them, it +still never shook them in this belief or caused them to doubt His power +and His justice; they proceeded instead to bring their prophets into +the world to declare their sinfulness to them and out of their sense +of guilt they constructed the stringent commandments of their priestly +religion. It is curious how differently a savage behaves! If he has had +bad fortune, he does not throw the blame on himself, but on his fetish, +who has plainly not done his duty by him, and he belabours it instead +of punishing himself. + +Hence we know of two sources for feelings of guilt: that arising +from the dread of authority and the later one from the dread of +the super-ego. The first one compels us to renounce instinctual +gratification; the other presses over and above this towards +punishment, since the persistence of forbidden wishes cannot be +concealed from the super-ego. We have also heard how the severity of +the super-ego, the rigour of conscience, is to be explained. It simply +carries on the severity of external authority which it has succeeded +and to some extent replaced. We see now how renunciation of instinctual +gratification is related to the sense of guilt. Originally, it is +true, renunciation is the consequence of a dread of external authority; +one gives up pleasures so as not to lose its love. Having made this +renunciation, one is quits with authority, so to speak; no feeling of +guilt should remain. But with the dread of the super-ego the case is +different. Renunciation of gratification does not suffice here, for the +wish persists and is not capable of being hidden from the super-ego. In +spite of the renunciations made, feelings of guilt will be experienced +and this is a great disadvantage economically of the erection of +the super-ego, or, as one may say, of the formation of conscience. +Renunciation no longer has a completely absolving effect; virtuous +restraint is no longer rewarded by the assurance of love; a threatened +external unhappiness—loss of love and punishment meted out by external +authority—has been exchanged for a lasting inner unhappiness, the +tension of a sense of guilt. + +These interrelations are so complicated and at the same time so +important that, in spite of the dangers of repetition, I will consider +them again from another angle. The chronological sequence would +thus be as follows: first, instinct-renunciation due to dread of an +aggression by external authority—this is, of course, tantamount to +the dread of loss of love, for love is a protection against these +punitive aggressions. Then follows the erection of an internal +authority, and instinctual renunciation due to dread of it—that is, +dread of conscience. In the second case, there is the equivalence of +wicked acts and wicked intentions; hence comes the sense of guilt, +the need for punishment. The aggressiveness of conscience carries +on the aggressiveness of authority. Thus far all seems to be clear; +but how can we find a place in this scheme for the effect produced +by misfortune (_i.e._ renunciations externally imposed), for the +effect it has of increasing the rigour of conscience? how account +for the exceptional stringency of conscience in the best men, those +least given to rebel against it? We have already explained both these +peculiarities of conscience, but probably we still have an impression +that these explanations do not go to the root of the matter, and that +they leave something still unexplained. And here at last comes in an +idea which is quite peculiar to psycho-analysis and alien to ordinary +ways of thinking. Its nature enables us to understand why the whole +matter necessarily seemed so confused and obscure to us. It tells us +this: in the beginning conscience (more correctly, the anxiety which +later became conscience) was the cause of instinctual renunciation, +but later this relation is reversed. Every renunciation then becomes a +dynamic fount of conscience; every fresh abandonment of gratification +increases its severity and intolerance; and if we could only bring it +better into harmony with what we already know about the development +of conscience, we should be tempted to make the following paradoxical +statement: Conscience is the result of instinctual renunciation, or: +Renunciation (externally imposed) gives rise to conscience, which then +demands further renunciations. + +The contradiction between this proposition and our previous knowledge +about the genesis of conscience is not in actual fact so very great and +we can see a way in which it may be still further reduced. In order +to state the problem more easily, let us select the example of the +instinct of aggression, and let us suppose that the renunciation in +question is always a renunciation of aggression. This is, of course, +merely a provisional assumption. The effect of instinctual renunciation +on conscience then operates as follows: every impulse of aggression +which we omit to gratify is taken over by the super-ego and goes to +heighten its aggressiveness (against the ego). It does not fit in +well with this that the original aggressiveness of conscience should +represent a continuance of the rigour of external authority, and so +have nothing to do with renunciation. But we can get rid of this +discrepancy if we presume a different origin for the first quantum of +aggressiveness with which the super-ego was endowed. When authority +prevented the child from enjoying the first but most important +gratifications of all, aggressive impulses of considerable intensity +must have been evoked in it, irrespective of the particular nature of +the instinctual deprivations concerned. The child must necessarily have +had to give up the satisfaction of these revengeful aggressive wishes. +In this situation, in which it is economically so hard pressed, it +has recourse to certain mechanisms well known to us; by the process +of identification it absorbs into itself the invulnerable authority, +which then becomes the super-ego and comes into possession of all the +aggressiveness which the child would gladly have exercised against it. +The child’s ego has to content itself with the unhappy rôle of the +authority—the father—who has been thus degraded. It is, as so often, +a reversal of the original situation, ‘If I were father and you my +child, I would treat _you_ badly’. The relation between super-ego and +ego is a reproduction, distorted by a wish, of the real relations +between the ego, before it was subdivided, and an external object. +That is also typical. The essential difference, however, is that the +original severity of the super-ego does not—or not so much—represent +the severity which has been experienced or anticipated from the object, +but expresses the child’s own aggressiveness towards the latter. If +this is correct, one could truly assert that conscience is formed +in the beginning from the suppression of an aggressive impulse and +strengthened as time goes on by each fresh suppression of the kind. + +Now, which of these two theories is the true one? The earlier, which +seemed genetically so unassailable, or the new one, which rounds +off our theories in such a welcome manner? Clearly, they are both +justified, and by the evidence, too, of direct observation; they do not +contradict each other, and even coincide at one point, for the child’s +revengeful aggressiveness will be in part provoked by the amount of +punishing aggression that it anticipates from the father. Experience +has shown, however, that the severity which a child’s super-ego +develops in no way corresponds to the severity of the treatment it has +itself experienced.[26] It seems to be independent of the latter; a +child which has been very leniently treated can acquire a very strict +conscience. But it would also be wrong to exaggerate this independence; +it is not difficult to assure oneself that strict upbringing also has +a strong influence on the formation of a child’s super-ego. It comes +to this, that the formation of the super-ego and the development of +conscience are determined in part by innate constitutional factors and +in part by the influence of the actual environment; and that is in +no way surprising—on the contrary, it is the invariable aetiological +condition of all such processes.[27] + +It may also be said that when a child reacts to the first great +instinctual deprivations with an excessive aggressiveness and a +corresponding strictness of its super-ego, it is thereby following a +phylogenetic prototype, unheedful of what reaction would in reality be +justified; for the father of primitive times was certainly terrifying, +and one may safely attribute the utmost degree of aggressiveness +to him. The differences between the two theories of the genesis of +conscience are thus still further diminished if one passes from +individual to phylogenetic development. But then, on the other hand, +we find a new important difference between the two processes. We cannot +disregard the conclusion that man’s sense of guilt has its origin in +the Oedipus complex and was acquired when the father was killed by +the association of the brothers. At that time the aggression was not +suppressed but carried out, and it is this same act of aggression whose +suppression in the child we regard as the source of feelings of guilt. +Now, I should not be surprised if a reader were to cry out angrily: +‘So it makes no difference whether one does kill one’s father or does +not, one gets a feeling of guilt in either case! Here I should think +one may be allowed some doubts. Either it is not true that guilt is +evoked by suppressed aggressiveness or else the whole story about the +father-murder is a romance, and primeval man did not kill his father +any more often than people do nowadays. Besides this, if it is not a +romance but a plausible piece of history, it would only be an instance +of what we all expect to happen, namely, that one feels guilty because +one has really done something which cannot be justified. And what we +are all waiting for is for psycho-analysis to give us an explanation of +this reaction, which at any rate is something that happens every day.’ + +This is true, and we must make good the omission. There is no great +mystery about it either. When one has feelings of guilt after one +has committed some crime and because of it, this feeling should more +properly be called _remorse_. It relates only to the one act, and +clearly it presupposes that _conscience_, the capacity for feelings of +guilt, was already in existence before the deed. Remorse of this kind +can, therefore, never help us to find out the source of conscience and +feelings of guilt in general. In these everyday instances the course +of events is usually as follows: an instinctual need acquires the +strength to achieve fulfilment in spite of conscience, the strength +of which also has its limits, whereupon the inevitable reduction of +the need after satisfaction restores the earlier balance of forces. +Psycho-analysis is quite justified, therefore, in excluding the case +of a sense of guilt through remorse from this discussion, however +frequently it may occur and however great its importance may be +practically. + +But if man’s sense of guilt goes back to the murder of the father, that +was undoubtedly an instance of ‘remorse’, and yet are we to suppose +that there were no conscience and feelings of guilt before the act +on that occasion? If so, where did the remorse come from then? This +instance must explain to us the riddle of the sense of guilt and so +make an end of our difficulties. And it will do so, as I believe. +This remorse was the result of the very earliest primal ambivalence +of feelings towards the father: the sons hated him, but they loved +him too; after their hate against him had been satisfied by their +aggressive acts, their love came to expression in their remorse about +the deed, set up the super-ego by identification with the father, gave +it the father’s power to punish as he would have done the aggression +they had performed, and created the restrictions which should prevent a +repetition of the deed. And since impulses to aggressions against the +father were repeated in the next generations, the feelings of guilt, +too, persisted, and were further reinforced every time an aggression +was suppressed anew and made over to the super-ego. At this point, it +seems to me, we can at last clearly perceive the part played by love +in the origin of conscience and the fatal inevitableness of the sense +of guilt. It is not really a decisive matter whether one has killed +one’s father or abstained from the deed; one must feel guilty in either +case, for guilt is the expression of the conflict of ambivalence, the +eternal struggle between Eros and the destructive or death instinct. +This conflict is engendered as soon as man is confronted with the +task of living with his fellows; as long as he knows no other form of +life in common but that of the family, it must express itself in the +Oedipus complex, cause the development of conscience and create the +first feelings of guilt. When mankind tries to institute wider forms of +communal life, the same conflict continues to arise—in forms derived +from the past—and intensified so that a further reinforcement of the +sense of guilt results. Since culture obeys an inner erotic impulse +which bids it bind mankind into a closely-knit mass, it can achieve +this aim only by means of its vigilance in fomenting an ever-increasing +sense of guilt. That which began in relation to the father ends in +relation to the community. If civilization is an inevitable course of +development from the group of the family to the group of humanity as a +whole, then an intensification of the sense of guilt—resulting from the +innate conflict of ambivalence, from the eternal struggle between the +love and the death trends—will be inextricably bound up with it, until +perhaps the sense of guilt may swell to a magnitude that individuals +can hardly support. One is reminded of the telling accusation made by +the great poet against the ‘heavenly forces’: + + Ye set our feet on this life’s road, + Ye watch our guilty, erring courses, + Then leave us, bowed beneath our load, + For earth its every debt enforces.[28] + +And one may heave a sigh at the thought that it is vouchsafed to a +few, with hardly an effort, to salve from the whirlpool of their own +emotions the deepest truths, to which we others have to force our way, +ceaselessly groping amid torturing uncertainties. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[23] One is reminded of Rousseau’s famous mandarin! + +[24] Every reasonable person will understand and take into account that +in this descriptive survey things that in reality occur by gradual +transitions are sharply differentiated and that the mere existence of +a super-ego is not the only factor concerned, but also its relative +strength and sphere of influence. All that has been said above in +regard to conscience and guilt, moreover, is common knowledge and +practically undisputed. + +[25] This increased sensitivity of morals in consequence of ill-luck +has been illustrated by Mark Twain in a delicious little story: _The +First Melon I ever Stole_. This melon, as it happened, was unripe. I +heard Mark Twain tell the story himself in one of his lectures. After +he had given out the title, he stopped and asked himself in a doubtful +way: ‘Was it the first?’ This was the whole story. + +[26] As has rightly been emphasized by Melanie Klein and other English +writers. + +[27] In his _Psychoanalyse der Gesamtpersönlichkeit_, 1927, Franz +Alexander has, in connection with Aichhorn’s study of dissocial +behaviour in children, discussed the two main types of pathogenic +methods of training, that of excessive severity and of spoiling. The +‘unduly lenient and indulgent’ father fosters the development of an +over-strict super-ego because, in face of the love which is showered on +it, the child has no other way of disposing of its aggressiveness than +to turn it inwards. In neglected children who grow up without any love +the tension between ego and super-ego is lacking; their aggressions can +be directed externally. Apart from any constitutional factor which may +be present, therefore, one may say that a strict conscience arises from +the co-operation of two factors in the environment: the deprivation of +instinctual gratification which evokes the child’s aggressiveness, and +the love it receives which turns this aggressiveness inwards, where it +is taken over by the super-ego. + +[28] Goethe, _Wilhelm Meister_. The Song of the Harper. + + + + +VIII + + +On reaching the end of such a journey as this, the author must beg his +readers to pardon him for not having been a more skilful guide, not +sparing them bleak stretches of country at times and laborious detours +at others. There is no doubt that it could have been done better. I +will now try to make some amends. + +First of all, I suspect the reader feels that the discussion about +the sense of guilt oversteps its proper boundaries in this essay and +takes up too much space, so that the rest of the subject-matter, which +is not always closely connected with it, gets pushed on one side. +This may have spoilt the composition of the work; but it faithfully +corresponds to my intention to represent the sense of guilt as the +most important problem in the evolution of culture, and to convey that +the price of progress in civilization is paid in forfeiting happiness +through the heightening of the sense of guilt.[29] What sounds +puzzling in this statement, which is the final conclusion of our whole +investigation, is probably due to the quite peculiar relation—as yet +completely unexplained—the sense of guilt has to our consciousness. In +the common cases of remorse which we think normal it becomes clearly +perceptible to consciousness; indeed, we often speak of ‘consciousness +of guilt’ instead of sense of guilt. In our study of the neuroses, +in which we have found invaluable clues towards an understanding of +normal people, we find some very contradictory states of affairs in +this respect. In one of these maladies, the obsessional neurosis, the +sense of guilt makes itself loudly heard in consciousness; it dominates +the clinical picture as well as the patient’s life and lets hardly +anything else appear alongside of it. But in most of the other types +and forms of neurosis it remains completely unconscious, without its +effect being any less great, however. Our patients do not believe us +when we ascribe an ‘unconscious sense of guilt’ to them; in order to +become even moderately intelligible to them we have to explain that +the sense of guilt expresses itself in an unconscious seeking for +punishment. But its connection with the form of the neurosis is not to +be over-estimated; even in the obsessional neurosis there are people +who are not aware of their sense of guilt or who perceive it only as +a tormenting uneasiness or kind of anxiety and then not until they +are prevented from carrying out certain actions. We ought some day to +be able at last to understand these things; as yet we cannot. Here +perhaps is the place to remark that at bottom the sense of guilt is +nothing but a topographical variety of anxiety, and that in its later +phases it coincides completely with the dread of the super-ego. The +relation of anxiety to consciousness, moreover, is characterized by +the same extraordinary variations. Somewhere or other there is always +anxiety hidden behind all symptoms; at one moment, however, it sweeps +into consciousness, drowning everything else with its clamour, and at +the next it secretes itself so completely that we are forced to speak +of unconscious anxiety—or if we want to have a cleaner conscience +psychologically, since anxiety is after all only a perception—of +possibilities of anxiety. Consequently it is very likely that the sense +of guilt produced by culture is not perceived as such and remains +to a great extent unconscious, or comes to expression as a sort of +uneasiness or discontent for which other motivations are sought. +The different religions at any rate have never overlooked the part +played by the sense of guilt in civilization. What is more, they come +forward with a claim, which I have not considered elsewhere,[30] to +save mankind from this sense of guilt, which they call sin. We indeed +have drawn our conclusions, from the way in which in Christianity this +salvation is won—the sacrificial death of one who therewith takes +the whole of the common guilt of all upon himself—about the occasion +on which this primal sense of guilt was first acquired, that is, the +occasion which was also the inception of culture.[31] + +It will not be very important, but it may be just as well to go more +precisely into the meaning of certain words like super-ego, conscience, +sense of guilt, need for punishment, remorse, which we have perhaps +often used too loosely and in place of one another. They all relate +to the same situation, but they denote different aspects of it. The +super-ego is an agency or institution in the mind whose existence we +have inferred: conscience is a function we ascribe, among others, to +the super-ego; it consists of watching over and judging the actions and +intentions of the ego, exercising the functions of a censor. The sense +of guilt, the severity of the super-ego, is therefore the same thing as +the rigour of conscience; it is the perception the ego has that it is +watched in this way, the ego’s appreciation of the tension between its +strivings and the standards of the super-ego; and the anxiety that lies +behind all these relations, the dread of that critical institution, +the need for punishment, is an instinctual manifestation on the part +of the ego, which has become masochistic under the influence of the +sadistic super-ego, _i.e._ which has brought a part of the instinct +of destruction at work within itself into the service of an erotic +attachment to the super-ego. We ought not to speak of conscience +before a super-ego is demonstrable; as to consciousness of guilt, we +must admit that it comes into being before the super-ego, therefore +before conscience. At that time it is the direct expression of the +dread of external authority, the recognition of the tension between +the ego and this latter; it is the direct derivative of the conflict +between the need for parental love and the urgency towards instinctual +gratification, and it is the thwarting of this urgency that provokes +the tendency to aggression. It is because these two different versions +of the sense of guilt—one arising from dread of the external and the +other from dread of the inner authority—are superimposed one on the +other that our insight into the relations of conscience has been +hampered in so many ways. Remorse is a general term denoting the ego’s +reaction under a special form of the sense of guilt; it includes the +almost unaltered sensory material belonging to the anxiety that is +at work behind the sense of guilt; it is itself a punishment and may +include the need for punishment; it too, therefore, may occur before +conscience has developed. + +Further, it will do no harm for us to review once more the +contradictions which have confused us at times during our enquiries. +The sense of guilt, we said at one point, was the consequence of +uncommitted aggressions; but another time and in particular in the +case of its historical beginning, the murder of the father, it was the +consequence of an aggression that was carried out. We also found a way +out of this difficulty. The development of the inner authority, the +super-ego, was precisely what radically altered the whole situation. +Before this, the sense of guilt coincided with remorse; we observe, in +saying this, that the term remorse is to be reserved for the reaction +after an actual performance of an aggressive deed. After this, the +omniscience of the super-ego robbed the distinction between intended +aggressions and aggressions committed of its significance; a mere +intention to commit an act of violence could then evoke a sense of +guilt—as psycho-analysis has found—as well as one which has actually +been committed—as all the world knows. The conflict of ambivalence +between the two primal instincts leaves the same impress on the +psychological situation, irrespective of the change that has taken +place in this. A temptation arises to look here for an explanation of +the mystery of the varying relation between the sense of guilt and +consciousness. The sense of guilt which is due to remorse for an evil +deed must always have been conscious; that due to a perception of an +evil impulse could have remained unconscious. But it cannot be as +simple as that: the obsessional neurosis contradicts it emphatically. +The second contradiction was that the aggressive energy with which +one imagined the super-ego to be endowed was, according to one view, +merely a continuation of the punitive energy belonging to external +authority, preserved within the mind; whereas according to another view +it consisted, on the contrary, of aggressive energy originating in +the self, levelled against this inhibiting authority but not allowed +to discharge itself in actions. The first view seemed to accord +better with the history of the sense of guilt, the second with the +theory of it. More searching reflection has resolved this apparently +irreconcilable contradiction almost too completely; what remained as +essential and common to both was that in both cases we were dealing +with an aggression that had been turned inward. Clinical observation, +moreover, really permits us to distinguish two sources for the +aggressiveness we ascribe to the super-ego, each of which in any given +case may be operating predominantly, but which usually are both at work +together. + +This, I think, is the place to suggest that a proposal which I +previously put forward as a provisional assumption should be taken +in earnest. In the latest analytical literature[32] a predilection +has been shown for the view that any kind of privation, any thwarted +instinctual gratification, results in a heightening of the sense of +guilt, or may do so. I believe one obtains a great simplification +of theory if one regards this as valid _only_ for the aggressive +instincts, and that little will be found to contradict this assumption. +How then is it to be explained dynamically and economically that +a heightening of the sense of guilt should appear in place of +an unfulfilled erotic desire? This can surely only happen in a +roundabout way: the thwarting of the erotic gratification provokes an +access of aggressiveness against the person who interfered with the +gratification, and then this tendency to aggression in its turn has +itself to be suppressed. So then it is, after all, only the aggression +which is changed into guilt, by being suppressed and made over to +the super-ego. I am convinced that very many processes will admit of +much simpler and clearer explanation if we restrict the findings of +psycho-analysis in respect of the origin of the sense of guilt to the +aggressive instincts. Reference to the clinical material here gives +us no unequivocal answer, because, according to our own hypothesis, +the two kinds of instincts hardly ever appear in a pure form, unmixed +with each other; but the investigation of extreme cases would probably +point in the direction I anticipate. I am tempted to extract our +first advantage from this narrower conception by applying it to the +repression-process. The symptoms of neurosis, as we have learnt, are +essentially substitutive gratifications for unfulfilled sexual wishes. +In the course of our analytic work we have found to our surprise that +perhaps every neurosis masks a certain amount of unconscious sense of +guilt, which in its turn reinforces the symptoms by exploiting them as +punishment. One is now inclined to suggest the following statement as a +possible formulation: when an instinctual trend undergoes repression, +its libidinal elements are transformed into symptoms and its aggressive +components into a sense of guilt. Even if this statement is only +accurate as an approximation it merits our interest. + +Some readers of this essay, too, may be under the impression that the +formula of the struggle between Eros and the death instinct has been +reiterated too often. It is supposed to characterize the cultural +process which evolves in humanity; but it has been related also to +the development of the individual, and besides this, is supposed +to have revealed the secret of organic life in general. It becomes +necessary for us to examine the relation of these three processes to +one another. Now, the repetition of the same formula is vindicated by +the consideration that the cultural processes both in humanity and in +the development of an individual are life-processes; consequently they +must both partake of the most universal characteristic of life. On the +other hand, evidence of the presence of this universal characteristic +does not help us to discriminate, unless it is further narrowed down +by special qualifications. We can therefore set our minds at rest only +if we say that the cultural process is the particular modification +undergone by the life-process under the influence of the task set +before it by Eros and stimulated by Ananke, external necessity; and +this task is that of uniting single human beings into a larger unity +with libidinal attachments between them. When, however, we compare +the cultural process in humanity with the process of development or +upbringing in an individual human being, we shall conclude without much +hesitation that the two are very similar in nature, if not in fact the +same process applied to a different kind of object. The civilizing +process in the human species is naturally more of an abstraction than +the development of an individual, and therefore harder to apprehend +in concrete terms, nor should the discovery of analogies be pushed +to extremes; but in view of the similar character of the aims of the +two processes—in one the incorporation of an individual as a member +of a group and in the other the creation of a single group out of +many individuals—the similarity of the means employed and of the +results obtained in the two cases is not surprising. In view of its +exceptional importance, we must no longer postpone mention of one +feature differentiating the two processes. The development of the +individual is ordered according to the programme laid down by the +pleasure-principle, namely, the attainment of happiness, and to this +main objective it holds firmly; the incorporation of the individual as +a member of a community, or his adaptation to it, seems like an almost +unavoidable condition which has to be filled before he can attain this +objective of happiness. If he could achieve it without fulfilling this +condition it would perhaps be better. To express it differently, we may +say: individual development seems to us a product of the interplay of +two trends, the striving for happiness, generally called ‘egoistic’, +and the impulse towards merging with others in the community, which +we call ‘altruistic’. Neither of these descriptions goes far beneath +the surface. In individual development, as we have said, the main +accent falls on the egoistic trend, the striving for happiness; while +the other tendency, which may be called the ‘cultural’ one, usually +contents itself with instituting restrictions. But things are different +in the development of culture: here far the most important aim is +that of creating a single unity out of individual men and women, while +the objective of happiness, though still present, is pushed into the +background; it almost seems as if humanity could be most successfully +united into one great whole if there were no need to trouble about the +happiness of individuals. The process of development in individuals +must therefore be admitted to have its special features which are not +repeated in the cultural evolution of humanity; the two processes only +necessarily coincide in so far as the first also includes the aim of +incorporation into the community. + +Just as a planet circles round its central body while at the same time +rotating on its own axis, so the individual man takes his part in the +course of humanity’s development as he goes on his way through life. +But to our dull eyes the play of forces in the heavens seems set fast +in a never-varying scheme, though in organic life we can still see how +the forces contend with one another and the results of the conflict +change from day to day. So in every individual the two trends, one +towards personal happiness and the other towards unity with the rest of +humanity, must contend with each other; so must the two processes of +individual and of cultural development oppose each other and dispute +the ground against each other. This struggle between individual and +society, however, is not derived from the antagonism of the primal +instincts, Eros and Death, which are probably irreconcilable; it is a +dissension in the camp of the libido itself, comparable to the contest +between the ego and its objects for a share of the libido; and it +does eventually admit of a solution in the individual, as we may hope +it will also do in the future of civilization—however greatly it may +oppress the lives of individuals at the present time. + +The analogy between the process of cultural evolution and the path of +individual development may be carried further in an important respect. +It can be maintained that the community, too, develops a super-ego, +under whose influence cultural evolution proceeds. It would be an +enticing task for an authority on human systems of culture to work +out this analogy in specific cases. I will confine myself to pointing +out certain striking details. The super-ego of any given epoch of +civilization originates in the same way as that of an individual; +it is based on the impression left behind them by great leading +personalities, men of outstanding force of mind, or men in whom some +one human tendency has developed in unusual strength and purity, often +for that reason very disproportionately. In many instances the analogy +goes still further, in that during their lives—often enough, even if +not always—such persons are ridiculed by others, ill-used or even +cruelly done to death, just as happened with the primal father who also +rose again to become a deity long after his death by violence. The most +striking example of this double fate is the figure of Jesus Christ, if +indeed it does not itself belong to the realm of mythology which called +it into being out of a dim memory of that primordial event. Another +point of agreement is that the cultural super-ego, just like that of +an individual, sets up high ideals and standards, and that failure to +fulfil them is punished by both with ‘anxiety of conscience’. In this +particular, indeed, we come across the remarkable circumstance that the +mental processes concerned here are actually more familiar to us and +more accessible to consciousness when they proceed from the group than +they can be in the individual. In the latter, when tension arises, the +aggressions of the super-ego voicing its noisy reproaches are all that +is perceived, while its injunctions themselves often remain unconscious +in the background. If we bring them to the knowledge of consciousness +we find that they coincide with the demands of the prevailing cultural +super-ego. At this point the two processes, that of the evolution of +the group and the development of the individual, are always firmly +mortised together, so to speak. Consequently many of the effects and +properties of the super-ego can be more easily detected through its +operations in the group than in the individual. + +The cultural super-ego has elaborated its ideals and erected its +standards. Those of its demands which deal with the relations of +human beings to one another are comprised under the name of ethics. +The greatest value has at all times been set upon systems of ethics, +as if men had expected them in particular to achieve something +especially important. And ethics does in fact deal predominantly with +the point which is easily seen to be the sorest of all in any scheme +of civilization. Ethics must be regarded therefore as a therapeutic +effort: as an endeavour to achieve something through the standards +imposed by the super-ego which had not been attained by the work of +civilization in other ways. We already know—it is what we have been +discussing—that the question is how to dislodge the greatest obstacle +to civilization, the constitutional tendency in men to aggressions +against one another; and for that very reason the commandment to +love one’s neighbour as oneself—probably the most recent of the +cultural super-ego’s demands—is especially interesting to us. In our +investigations and our therapy of the neuroses we cannot avoid finding +fault with the super-ego of the individual on two counts: in commanding +and prohibiting with such severity it troubles too little about the +happiness of the ego, and it fails to take into account sufficiently +the difficulties in the way of obeying it—the strength of instinctual +cravings in the id and the hardships of external environment. +Consequently in our therapy we often find ourselves obliged to do +battle with the super-ego and work to moderate its demands. Exactly +the same objections can be made against the ethical standards of the +cultural super-ego. It, too, does not trouble enough about the mental +constitution of human beings; it enjoins a command and never asks +whether or not it is possible for them to obey it. It presumes, on the +contrary, that a man’s ego is psychologically capable of anything that +is required of it—that his ego has unlimited power over his id. This is +an error; even in so-called normal people the power of controlling the +id cannot be increased beyond certain limits. If one asks more of them, +one produces revolt or neurosis in individuals or makes them unhappy. +The command to love our neighbours as ourselves is the strongest +defence there is against human aggressiveness and it is a superlative +example of the unpsychological attitude of the cultural super-ego. +The command is impossible to fulfil; such an enormous inflation of +love can only lower its value and not remedy the evil. Civilization +pays no heed to all this; it merely prates that the harder it is to +obey the more laudable the obedience. The fact remains that anyone +who follows such preaching in the present state of civilization only +puts himself at a disadvantage beside all those who set it at naught. +What an overwhelming obstacle to civilization aggression must be if +the defence against it can cause as much misery as aggression itself! +‘Natural’ ethics, as it is called, has nothing to offer here beyond the +narcissistic satisfaction of thinking oneself better than others. The +variety of ethics that links itself with religion brings in at this +point its promises of a better future life. I should imagine that as +long as virtue is not rewarded in this life ethics will preach in vain. +I too think it unquestionable that an actual change in men’s attitude +to property would be of more help in this direction than any ethical +commands; but among the Socialists this proposal is obscured by new +idealistic expectations disregarding human nature, which detract from +its value in actual practice. + +It seems to me that the point of view which seeks to follow the +phenomena of cultural evolution as manifestations of a super-ego +promises to yield still further discoveries. I am coming quickly to +an end. There is one question, however, which I can hardly ignore. If +the evolution of civilization has such a far-reaching similarity with +the development of an individual, and if the same methods are employed +in both, would not the diagnosis be justified that many systems of +civilization—or epochs of it—possibly even the whole of humanity—have +become ‘neurotic’ under the pressure of the civilizing trends? To +analytic dissection of these neuroses therapeutic recommendations might +follow which could claim a great practical interest. I would not say +that such an attempt to apply psycho-analysis to civilized society +would be fanciful or doomed to fruitlessness. But it behoves us to be +very careful, not to forget that after all we are dealing only with +analogies, and that it is dangerous, not only with men but also with +concepts, to drag them out of the region where they originated and +have matured. The diagnosis of collective neuroses, moreover, will be +confronted by a special difficulty. In the neurosis of an individual +we can use as a starting-point the contrast presented to us between +the patient and his environment which we assume to be ‘normal’. No +such background as this would be available for any society similarly +affected; it would have to be supplied in some other way. And with +regard to any therapeutic application of our knowledge, what would be +the use of the most acute analysis of social neuroses, since no one +possesses power to compel the community to adopt the therapy? In spite +of all these difficulties, we may expect that one day someone will +venture upon this research into the pathology of civilized communities. + +For various reasons, it is very far from my intention to express any +opinion concerning the value of human civilization. I have endeavoured +to guard myself against the enthusiastic partiality which believes our +civilization to be the most precious thing that we possess or could +acquire, and thinks it must inevitably lead us to undreamt-of heights +of perfection. I can at any rate listen without taking umbrage to those +critics who aver that when one surveys the aims of civilization and the +means it employs, one is bound to conclude that the whole thing is not +worth the effort and that in the end it can only produce a state of +things which no individual will be able to bear. My impartiality is +all the easier to me since I know very little about these things and am +sure only of one thing, that the judgements of value made by mankind +are immediately determined by their desires for happiness: in other +words, that those judgements are attempts to prop up their illusions +with arguments. I could understand it very well if anyone were to point +to the inevitable nature of the process of cultural development and +say, for instance, that the tendency to institute restrictions upon +sexual life or to carry humanitarian ideals into effect at the cost of +natural selection are developmental trends which it is impossible to +avert or divert, and to which it is best for us to submit as though +they were natural necessities. I know, too, the objection that can +be raised against this: that tendencies such as these, which are +believed to have insuperable power behind them, have often in the +history of man been thrown aside and replaced by others. My courage +fails me, therefore, at the thought of rising up as a prophet before +my fellow-men, and I bow to their reproach that I have no consolation +to offer them; for at bottom this is what they all demand—the frenzied +revolutionary as passionately as the most pious believer. + +The fateful question of the human species seems to me to be whether +and to what extent the cultural process developed in it will succeed +in mastering the derangements of communal life caused by the human +instinct of aggression and self-destruction. In this connection, +perhaps the phase through which we are at this moment passing deserves +special interest. Men have brought their powers of subduing the forces +of nature to such a pitch that by using them they could now very easily +exterminate one another to the last man. They know this—hence arises +a great part of their current unrest, their dejection, their mood of +apprehension. And now it may be expected that the other of the two +‘heavenly forces’, eternal Eros, will put forth his strength so as to +maintain himself alongside of his equally immortal adversary. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[29] ‘Thus conscience does make cowards of us all....’ + +That the upbringing of young people at the present day conceals from +them the part sexuality will play in their lives is not the only +reproach we are obliged to bring against it. It offends too in not +preparing them for the aggressions of which they are destined to +become the objects. Sending the young out into life with such a false +psychological orientation is as if one were to equip people going on a +Polar expedition with summer clothing and maps of the Italian lakes. +One can clearly see that ethical standards are being misused in a way. +The strictness of these standards would not do much harm if education +were to say: ‘This is how men ought to be in order to be happy and make +others happy, but you have to reckon with their not being so.’ Instead +of this the young are made to believe that everyone else conforms to +the standard of ethics, _i.e._ that everyone else is good. And then on +this is based the demand that the young shall be so too. + +[30] I mean in _The Future of an Illusion_. + +[31] _Totem und Tabu_ (1912). + +[32] In particular, in contributions by Ernest Jones, Susan Isaacs, +Melanie Klein; also, as I understand, in those of Reik and Alexander. + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes + + pg 138 Changed: the development of the indivudual + To: the development of the individual + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78221 *** diff --git a/78221-h/78221-h.htm b/78221-h/78221-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..46954cf --- /dev/null +++ b/78221-h/78221-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4308 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + Civilization and its discontents | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em; width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; + color: #A9A9A9; +} /* page numbers */ + +blockquote { + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +figcaption {font-weight: bold;} +figcaption p {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: .2em; text-align: inherit;} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: 1px dashed;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center; font-size: 90%;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent1 {text-indent: -2.5em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} + + +.fs70 {font-size: 70%} +.fs80 {font-size: 80%} +.fs90 {font-size: 90%} +.fs150 {font-size: 150%} + +.no-indent {text-indent: 0em;} +.bold {font-weight: bold;} +.wsp {word-spacing: 0.3em;} +.lh {line-height: 1.5em;} + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: 0em; +} +p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.1em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; +} + +.upper-case +{ + text-transform: uppercase; +} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp75 {width: 75%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp75 {width: 25%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78221 ***</div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 85%"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation"> +</div> + +<h1> +CIVILIZATION<br> +AND ITS DISCONTENTS +</h1> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + <p class="center no-indent fs90"> + JONATHAN CAPE AND HARRISON SMITH, INCORPORATED,<br> + 139 EAST <span class="allsmcap">46TH</span> STREET, NEW YORK, N. Y. AND 77 WELLINGTON<br> + STREET, WEST, TORONTO, CANADA; JONATHAN CAPE, LTD.,<br> + 30 BEDFORD SQUARE, LONDON, W. C. 1, ENGLAND + </p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center no-indent"> + <span class="fs150 bold wsp lh">CIVILIZATION<br> + AND ITS DISCONTENTS</span><br> + <br> + SIGMUND FREUD, M.D., LL.D.<br> + <br> + <br> + <span class="fs80">AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION</span><br> + <br> + <span class="fs70">BY</span><br> + <br> + JOAN RIVIERE</p> + <br> + <br> +<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="titlepage" style="max-width: 3.125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + <br> + <br> +<p class="center no-indent wsp lh"> + NEW YORK<br> + JONATHAN CAPE & HARRISON SMITH +</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p class="center no-indent fs70"> + COPYRIGHT, 1930<br> + BY JONATHAN CAPE AND<br> + HARRISON SMITH, INC.<br> + <br> + FIRST PUBLISHED IN AMERICA. 1930<br> + SECOND PRINTING OCTOBER. 1930<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES<br> + BY THE DE VINNE-HALLENBECK COMPANY<br> + AND BOUND BY THE J. F. TAPLEY COMPANY +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="TRANSLATORS_NOTE"> + TRANSLATOR’S NOTE + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="no-indent">My grateful thanks are due to Fräulein Anna +Freud, Dr. Ernest Jones and Mr. James +Strachey for their careful revision of the MS. +of this translation and the many improvements +they made in it, and also to Miss Ethel Colburn +Mayne for her translations of the verse quoted.</p> + +<p class="right"> + J. R. +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="I"> + I + </h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> impression forces itself upon one that +men measure by false standards, that +everyone seeks power, success, riches for +himself and admires others who attain them, +while undervaluing the truly precious things in +life. And yet, in making any general judgement of +this kind one is in danger of forgetting the manifold +variety of humanity and its mental life. +There are certain men from whom their contemporaries +do not withhold veneration, although +their greatness rests on attributes and achievements +which are completely foreign to the aims +and ideals of the multitude. One might well be +inclined to suppose that after all it is only a +minority who appreciate these great men, while +the majority cares nothing for them. But the +discrepancy between men’s opinions and their +behaviour is so wide and their desires so many-sided +that things are probably not so simple.</p> + +<p>One of these exceptional men calls himself my +friend in his letters to me. I had sent him my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>little book which treats of religion as an illusion +and he answered that he agreed entirely with my +views on religion, but that he was sorry I had not +properly appreciated the ultimate source of religious +sentiments. This consists in a peculiar feeling, +which never leaves him personally, which he +finds shared by many others, and which he may +suppose millions more also experience. It is a +feeling which he would like to call a sensation of +‘eternity’, a feeling as of something limitless, unbounded, +something ‘oceanic’. It is, he says, a +purely subjective experience, not an article of +belief; it implies no assurance of personal immortality, +but it is the source of the religious +spirit and is taken hold of by the various +Churches and religious systems, directed by them +into definite channels and also, no doubt, used up +in them. One may rightly call oneself religious +on the ground of this oceanic feeling alone, even +though one reject all beliefs and all illusions.</p> + +<p>These views, expressed by my friend whom I +so greatly honour and who himself once in poetry +described the magic of illusion, put me in a difficult +position. I cannot discover this ‘oceanic’ +feeling in myself. It is not easy to deal scientifically +with feelings. One may attempt to describe +their physiological signs. Where that is impossible—I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>am afraid the oceanic feeling, too, will defy +this kind of classification—nothing remains but +to turn to the ideational content which most +readily associates itself with the feeling. If I have +understood my friend aright, he means the same +thing as that consolation offered by an original +and somewhat unconventional writer to his hero, +contemplating suicide: ‘Out of this world we cannot +fall’.⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_1" href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> So it is a feeling of indissoluble connection, +of belonging inseparably to the external +world as a whole. To me, personally, I may +remark, this seems something more in the nature +of an intellectual judgement, not, it is true, without +any accompanying feeling-tone, but with one +of a kind which characterizes other equally far-reaching +reflections as well. I could not in my +own person convince myself of the primary nature +of such a feeling. But I cannot on that account +deny that it in fact occurs in other people. One +can only wonder whether it has been correctly +interpreted and whether it is entitled to be +acknowledged as the <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">fons et origo</i> of the whole +need for religion.</p> + +<p>I have nothing to suggest which could effectively +settle the solution of this problem. The idea +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>that man should receive intimation of his connection +with the surrounding world by a direct feeling +which aims from the outset at serving this purpose +sounds so strange and is so incongruous with the +structure of our psychology that one is justified +in attempting a psycho-analytic, that is, genetic +explanation of such a feeling. Whereupon the +following lines of thought present themselves. +Normally there is nothing we are more certain of +than the feeling of our self, our own ego. It seems +to us an independent unitary thing, sharply outlined +against everything else. That this is a deceptive +appearance, and that on the contrary the +ego extends inwards without any sharp delimitation, +into an unconscious mental entity which we +call the id and to which it forms a façade, was first +discovered by psycho-analytic research, and the +latter still has much to tell us about the relations +of the ego to the id. But towards the outer world +at any rate the ego seems to keep itself clearly and +sharply outlined and delimited. There is only one +state of mind in which it fails to do this—an unusual +state, it is true, but not one that can be +judged as pathological. At its height the state +of being in love threatens to obliterate the boundaries +between ego and object. Against all the +evidence of his senses the man in love declares +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>that he and his beloved are one, and is prepared +to behave as if it were a fact. A thing that can be +temporarily effaced by a physiological function +must also of course be liable to disturbance by +morbid processes. From pathology we have come +to know a large number of states in which the +boundary lines between ego and outer world become +uncertain, or in which they are actually +incorrectly perceived—cases in which parts of a +man’s own body, even component parts of his own +mind, perceptions, thoughts, feelings, appear to him +alien and not belonging to himself; other cases in +which a man ascribes to the external world things +that clearly originate in himself, and that ought +to be acknowledged by him. So the ego’s cognizance +of itself is subject to disturbance, and the +boundaries between it and the outer world are +not immovable.</p> + +<p>Further reflection shows that the adult’s sense +of his own ego cannot have been the same from the +beginning. It must have undergone a development, +which naturally cannot be demonstrated, +but which admits of reconstruction with a fair +degree of probability.⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_2" href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> When the infant at the +breast receives stimuli, he cannot as yet distinguish +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>whether they come from his ego or from the outer +world. He learns it gradually as the result of +various exigencies. It must make the strongest +impression on him that many sources of excitation, +which later on he will recognize as his own +bodily organs, can provide him at any time with +sensations, whereas others become temporarily out +of his reach—amongst these what he wants most +of all, his mother’s breast—and reappear only as +a result of his cries for help. Thus an ‘object’ +first presents itself to the ego as something existing +‘outside’, which is only induced to appear by a +particular act. A further stimulus to the growth +and formation of the ego, so that it becomes something +more than a bundle of sensations, <em>i.e.</em> recognizes +an ‘outside’, the external world, is afforded +by the frequent, unavoidable and manifold pains +and unpleasant sensations which the pleasure-principle, +still in unrestricted domination, bids it +abolish or avoid. The tendency arises to dissociate +from the ego everything which can give rise to +pain, to cast it out and create a pure pleasure-ego, +in contrast to a threatening ‘outside’, not-self. +The limits of this primitive pleasure-ego cannot +escape readjustment through experience. Much +that the individual wants to retain because it is +pleasure-giving is nevertheless part not of the ego +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>but of an object; and much that he wishes to eject +because it torments him yet proves to be inseparable +from the ego, arising from an inner source. +He learns a method by which, through deliberate +use of the sensory organs and suitable muscular +movements, he can distinguish between internal +and external—what is part of the ego and what +originates in the outer world—and thus he makes +the first step towards the introduction of the +reality-principle which is to control his development +further. This capacity for distinguishing +which he learns of course serves a practical purpose, +that of enabling him to defend himself +against painful sensations felt by him or threatening +him. Against certain painful excitations from +within the ego has only the same means of defence +as that employed against pain coming from without, +and this is the starting-point of important +morbid disturbances.</p> + +<p>In this way the ego detaches itself from the +external world. It is more correct to say: Originally +the ego includes everything, later it detaches +from itself the external world. The ego-feeling we +are aware of now is thus only a shrunken vestige +of a far more extensive feeling—a feeling which +embraced the universe and expressed an inseparable +connection of the ego with the external world. If +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>we may suppose that this primary ego-feeling has +been preserved in the minds of many people—to a +greater or lesser extent—it would co-exist like a +sort of counterpart with the narrower and more +sharply outlined ego-feeling of maturity, and the +ideational content belonging to it would be precisely +the notion of limitless extension and oneness with +the universe—the same feeling as that described by +my friend as ‘oceanic’. But have we any right to +assume that the original type of feeling survives +alongside the later one which has developed from it?</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly we have: there is nothing unusual +in such a phenomenon, whether in the psychological +or in other spheres. Where animals are concerned +we hold the view that the most highly developed +have arisen from the lowest. Yet we still find all +the simple forms alive to-day. The great saurians +are extinct and have made way for the mammals, +but a typical representative of them, the crocodile, +is still living among us. The analogy may be too +remote, and it is also weakened by the fact that the +surviving lower species are not as a rule the true +ancestors of the present-day more highly developed +types. The intermediate members have mostly +died out and are known to us only through reconstruction. +In the realm of mind, on the other hand, +the primitive type is so commonly preserved alongside +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>the transformations which have developed +out of it that it is superfluous to give instances in +proof of it. When this happens, it is usually the +result of a bifurcation in development. One quantitative +part of an attitude or an impulse has survived +unchanged while another has undergone +further development.</p> + +<p>This brings us very close to the more general +problem of conservation in the mind, which has so +far hardly been discussed, but is so interesting and +important that we may take the opportunity to +pay it some attention, even though its relevance is +not immediate. Since the time when we recognized +the error of supposing that ordinary forgetting +signified destruction or annihilation of the memory-trace, +we have been inclined to the opposite view +that nothing once formed in the mind could ever +perish, that everything survives in some way or +other, and is capable under certain conditions of +being brought to light again, as, for instance, when +regression extends back far enough. One might +try to picture to oneself what this assumption +signifies by a comparison taken from another field. +Let us choose the history of the Eternal City as an +example.⁠<a id="FNanchor_3_3" href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Historians tell us that the oldest Rome +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>of all was the <em>Roma quadrata</em>, a fenced settlement +on the Palatine. Then followed the phase of the +Septimontium, when the colonies on the different +hills united together; then the town which was +bounded by the Servian wall; and later still, +after all the transformations in the periods of the +republic and the early Caesars, the city which +the Emperor Aurelian enclosed by his walls. We +will not follow the changes the city went through +any further, but will ask ourselves what traces +of these early stages in its history a visitor to +Rome may still find to-day, if he goes equipped +with the most complete historical and topographical +knowledge. Except for a few gaps, +he will see the wall of Aurelian almost unchanged. +He can find sections of the Servian +rampart at certain points where it has been +excavated and brought to light. If he knows +enough—more than present-day archaeology—he +may perhaps trace out in the structure of the town +the whole course of this wall and the outline of +<em>Roma quadrata</em>. Of the buildings which once +occupied this ancient ground-plan he will find +nothing, or but meagre fragments, for they exist no +longer. With the best information about Rome of +the republican era, the utmost he could achieve +would be to indicate the sites where the temples +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>and public buildings of that period stood. These +places are now occupied by ruins, but the ruins are +not those of the early buildings themselves but of +restorations of them in later times after fires and +demolitions. It is hardly necessary to mention +that all these remains of ancient Rome are found +woven into the fabric of a great metropolis which +has arisen in the last few centuries since the +Renaissance. There is assuredly much that is +ancient still buried in the soil or under the modern +buildings of the town. This is the way in which we +find antiquities surviving in historic cities like +Rome.</p> + +<p>Now let us make the fantastic supposition that +Rome were not a human dwelling-place, but a +mental entity with just as long and varied a past +history: that is, in which nothing once constructed +had perished, and all the earlier stages of development +had survived alongside the latest. This +would mean that in Rome the palaces of the +Caesars were still standing on the Palatine and the +Septizonium of Septimius Severus was still towering +to its old height; that the beautiful statues were +still standing in the colonnade of the Castle of St. +Angelo, as they were up to its siege by the Goths, +and so on. But more still: where the Palazzo +Caffarelli stands there would also be, without this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>being removed, the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, +not merely in its latest form, moreover, as the +Romans of the Caesars saw it, but also in its earliest +shape, when it still wore an Etruscan design and +was adorned with terra-cotta antifixae. Where the +Coliseum stands now we could at the same time +admire Nero’s Golden House; on the Piazza of the +Pantheon we should find not only the Pantheon of +to-day as bequeathed to us by Hadrian, but on the +same site also Agrippa’s original edifice; indeed, +the same ground would support the church of +Santa Maria sopra Minerva and the old temple over +which it was built. And the observer would need +merely to shift the focus of his eyes, perhaps, or +change his position, in order to call up a view of +either the one or the other.</p> + +<p>There is clearly no object in spinning this +fantasy further; it leads to the inconceivable, or +even to absurdities. If we try to represent historical +sequence in spatial terms, it can only be +done by juxtaposition in space; the same space +will not hold two contents. Our attempt seems +like an idle game; it has only one justification: it +shows us how far away from mastering the idiosyncrasies +of mental life we are by treating them in +terms of visual representation.</p> + +<p>There is one objection, though, to which we must +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>pay attention. It questions our choosing in particular +the past history of a <em>city</em> to liken to the past +of the mind. Even for mental life our assumption +that everything past is preserved holds good only +on condition that the organ of the mind remains +intact and its structure has not been injured by +traumas or inflammation. Destructive influences +comparable to these morbid agencies are never +lacking in the history of any town, even if it has +had a less chequered past than Rome, even if, like +London, it has hardly ever been pillaged by an +enemy. Demolitions and the erection of new +buildings in the place of old occur in cities which +have had the most peaceful existence; therefore a +town is from the outset unsuited for the comparison +I have made of it with a mental organism.</p> + +<p>We admit this objection; we will abandon our +search for a striking effect of contrast and turn +to what is after all a closer object of comparison, +the body of an animal or human being. But here, +too, we find the same thing. The early stages of +development are in no sense still extant; they have +been absorbed into the later features for which they +supplied the material. The embryo cannot be +demonstrated in the adult; the thymus gland of +childhood is replaced after puberty by connective +tissue but no longer exists itself; in the marrow-bone +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>of a grown man I can, it is true, trace the outline +of the childish bone-structure, but this latter +no longer survives in itself—it lengthened and +thickened until it reached its final form. The fact is +that a survival of all the early stages alongside the +final form is only possible in the mind, and that it +is impossible for us to represent a phenomenon of +this kind in visual terms.</p> + +<p>Perhaps we are going too far with this conclusion. +Perhaps we ought to be content with the +assertion that what is past in the mind <em>can</em> survive +and need not necessarily perish. It is always +possible that even in the mind much that is old +may be so far obliterated or absorbed—whether +normally or by way of exception—that it cannot +be restored or reanimated by any means, of that +survival of it is always connected with certain +favourable conditions. It is possible, but we know +nothing about it. We can only be sure that it is +more the rule than the exception for the past to +survive in the mind.</p> + +<p>Thus we are entirely willing to acknowledge +that the ‘oceanic’ feeling exists in many people, +and we are disposed to relate it to an early stage +in ego-feeling; the further question then arises +what claim this feeling has to be regarded as the +source of the need for religion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p> + +<p>To me this claim does not seem very forcible. +Surely a feeling can only be a source of energy +when it is itself the expression of a strong need. +The derivation of a need for religion from the +child’s feeling of helplessness and the longing it +evokes for a father seems to me incontrovertible, +especially since this feeling is not simply carried +on from childhood days but is kept alive perpetually +by the fear of what the superior power of +fate will bring. I could not point to any need in +childhood so strong as that for a father’s protection. +Thus the part played by the ‘oceanic’ +feeling, which I suppose seeks to reinstate limitless +narcissism, cannot possibly take the first +place. The derivation of the religious attitude +can be followed back in clear outline as far as +the child’s feeling of helplessness. There may be +something else behind this, but for the present it +is wrapped in obscurity.</p> + +<p>I can imagine that the oceanic feeling could +become connected with religion later on. That +feeling of oneness with the universe which is its +ideational content sounds very like a first attempt +at the consolations of religion, like another way +taken by the ego of denying the dangers it sees +threatening it in the external world. I must again +confess that I find it very difficult to work with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>these intangible quantities. Another friend of +mine, whose insatiable scientific curiosity has impelled +him to the most out-of-the-way researches +and to the acquisition of encyclopaedic knowledge, +has assured me that the Yogi by their practices of +withdrawal from the world, concentrating attention +on bodily functions, peculiar methods of +breathing, actually are able to produce new sensations +and diffused feelings in themselves which he +regards as regressions to primordial, deeply buried +mental states. He sees in them a physiological +foundation, so to speak, of much of the wisdom of +mysticism. There would be connections to be +made here with many obscure modifications of +mental life, such as trance and ecstasy. But I +am moved to exclaim, in the words of Schiller’s +diver:</p> + +<p class="fs90"> + Who breathes overhead in the rose-tinted light may be glad! +</p> +<br> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_1" href="#FNanchor_1_1" class="label">[1]</a> Christian Grabbe, <cite>Hannibal</cite>: ‘Ja, aus der Welt werden wir +nicht fallen. Wir sind einmal darin.’</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_2" href="#FNanchor_2_2" class="label">[2]</a> Cf. the considerable volume of work on this topic dating +from that of Ferenczi (‘Stages in the Development of the Sense of +Reality’, 1913) up to Federn’s contributions, 1926, 1927 and later.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_3_3" href="#FNanchor_3_3" class="label">[3]</a> According to <cite>The Cambridge Ancient History</cite>, vol. vii., 1928, +‘The Founding of Rome’, by Hugh Last.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="II"> + II + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">In</span> my <cite>Future of an Illusion</cite>⁠<a id="FNanchor_4_4" href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> I was concerned +much less with the deepest sources of religious +feeling than with what the ordinary man +understands by his religion, that system of doctrines +and pledges that on the one hand explains +the riddle of this world to him with an enviable +completeness, and on the other assures him that a +solicitous Providence is watching over him and +will make up to him in a future existence for any +shortcomings in this life. The ordinary man cannot +imagine this Providence in any other form but +that of a greatly exalted father, for only such a +one could understand the needs of the sons of +men, or be softened by their prayers and placated +by the signs of their remorse. The whole thing is +so patently infantile, so incongruous with reality, +that to one whose attitude to humanity is friendly +it is painful to think that the great majority of +mortals will never be able to rise above this view +of life. It is even more humiliating to discover +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>what a large number of those alive to-day, who +must see that this religion is not tenable, yet try +to defend it inch by inch, as if with a series of pitiable +rearguard actions. One would like to count +oneself among the believers, so as to admonish +the philosophers who try to preserve the God of +religion by substituting for him an impersonal, +shadowy, abstract principle, and say, ‘Thou shalt +not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain!’ +Some of the great men of the past did the same, +but that is no justification for us; we know why +they had to do so.</p> + +<p>We will now go back to the ordinary man and +his religion—the only religion that ought to bear +the name. The well-known words of one of our +great and wise poets come to mind in which he +expresses his view of the relation of religion to art +and science. They run:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He who has Science and has Art,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Religion, too, has he;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who has not Science, has not Art,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Let him religious be!⁠<a id="FNanchor_5_5" href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>On the one hand, these words contrast religion +with the two highest achievements of man, and on +the other, they declare that in respect of their +value in life they can represent or replace each +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>other. If we wish to deprive even the ordinary +man, too, of his religion, we shall clearly not have +the authority of the poet on our side. We will seek +to get in touch with the meaning of his utterance +by a special way. Life as we find it is too hard +for us; it entails too much pain, too many disappointments, +impossible tasks. We cannot do +without palliative remedies. We cannot dispense +with auxiliary constructions, as Theodor Fontane +said. There are perhaps three of these means: +powerful diversions of interest, which lead us to +care little about our misery; substitutive gratifications, +which lessen it; and intoxicating substances, +which make us insensitive to it. Something +of this kind is indispensable.⁠<a id="FNanchor_6_6" href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Voltaire is +aiming at a diversion of interest when he brings his +<cite>Candide</cite> to a close with the advice that people +should cultivate their gardens; scientific work is +another deflection of the same kind. The substitute +gratifications, such as art offers, are illusions +in contrast to reality, but none the less +satisfying to the mind on that account, thanks to +the place which phantasy has reserved for herself +in mental life. The intoxicating substances affect +our body, alter its chemical processes. It is not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>so simple to find the place where religion belongs +in this series. We must look further afield.</p> + +<p>The question, ‘What is the purpose of human +life?’ has been asked times without number; it +has never received a satisfactory answer; perhaps +it does not admit of such an answer. Many a +questioner has added that if it should appear that +life has no purpose, then it would lose all value for +him. But these threats alter nothing. It looks, +on the contrary, as though one had a right to dismiss +this question, for it seems to presuppose that +belief in the superiority of the human race with +which we are already so familiar in its other expressions. +Nobody asks what is the purpose of +the lives of animals, unless peradventure they are +designed to be of service to man. But this, too, +will not hold, for with many animals man can do +nothing—except describe, classify and study them; +and countless species have declined to be put even +to this use, by living and dying and becoming +extinct before men had set eyes upon them. So +again, only religion is able to answer the question +of the purpose of life. One can hardly go wrong +in concluding that the idea of a purpose in life +stands and falls with the religious system.</p> + +<p>We will turn, therefore, to the less ambitious +problem, what the behaviour of men themselves +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>reveals as the purpose and object of their lives, +what they demand of life and wish to attain in it. +The answer to this can hardly be in doubt: they +seek happiness, they want to become happy and +to remain so. There are two sides to this striving, +a positive and a negative; it aims on the one hand +at eliminating pain and discomfort, on the other +at the experience of intense pleasures. In its +narrower sense the word ‘happiness’ relates only +to the last. Thus human activities branch off in +two directions—corresponding to this double goal—according +to which of the two they aim at realizing, +either predominantly or even exclusively.</p> + +<p>As we see, it is simply the pleasure-principle +which draws up the programme of life’s purpose. +This principle dominates the operation of the +mental apparatus from the very beginning; there +can be no doubt about its efficiency, and yet its +programme is in conflict with the whole world, +with the macrocosm as much as with the microcosm. +It simply cannot be put into execution, +the whole constitution of things runs counter to +it; one might say the intention that man should +be ‘happy’ is not included in the scheme of +‘Creation’. What is called happiness in its narrowest +sense comes from the satisfaction—most +often instantaneous—of pent-up needs which have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>reached great intensity, and by its very nature +can only be a transitory experience. When any +condition desired by the pleasure-principle is protracted, +it results in a feeling only of mild comfort; +we are so constituted that we can only intensely +enjoy contrasts, much less intensely states in themselves.⁠<a id="FNanchor_7_7" href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> +Our possibilities of happiness are thus +limited from the start by our very constitution. +It is much less difficult to be unhappy. Suffering +comes from three quarters: from our own body, +which is destined to decay and dissolution, and +cannot even dispense with anxiety and pain as +danger-signals; from the outer world, which can +rage against us with the most powerful and pitiless +forces of destruction; and finally from our +relations with other men. The unhappiness which +has this last origin we find perhaps more painful +than any other; we tend to regard it more or less +as a gratuitous addition, although it cannot be +any less an inevitable fate than the suffering that +proceeds from other sources.</p> + +<p>It is no wonder if, under the pressure of these +possibilities of suffering, humanity is wont to +reduce its demands for happiness, just as even the +pleasure-principle itself changes into the more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>accommodating reality-principle under the influence +of external environment; if a man thinks himself +happy if he has merely escaped unhappiness or +weathered trouble; if in general the task of avoiding +pain forces that of obtaining pleasure into the +background. Reflection shows that there are very +different ways of attempting to perform this task; +and all these ways have been recommended by the +various schools of wisdom in the art of life and put +into practice by men. Unbridled gratification of +all desires forces itself into the foreground as the +most alluring guiding principle in life, but it entails +preferring enjoyment to caution and penalizes itself +after short indulgence. The other methods, in +which avoidance of pain is the main motive, are +differentiated according to the source of the suffering +against which they are mainly directed. Some +of these measures are extreme and some moderate, +some are one-sided and some deal with several +aspects of the matter at once. Voluntary loneliness, +isolation from others, is the readiest safeguard +against the unhappiness that may arise out of +human relations. We know what this means: the +happiness found along this path is that of peace. +Against the dreaded outer world one can defend +oneself only by turning away in some other direction, +if the difficulty is to be solved single-handed. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>There is indeed another and a better way: that of +combining with the rest of the human community +and taking up the attack on nature, thus forcing +it to obey human will, under the guidance of +science. One is working then with all for the good +of all. But the most interesting methods for +averting pain are those which aim at influencing +the organism itself. In the last analysis all pain +is but sensation; it only exists in so far as we feel +it, and we feel it only in consequence of certain +characteristics of our organism.</p> + +<p>The crudest of these methods of influencing the +body, but also the most effective, is the chemical +one: that of intoxication. I do not think anyone +entirely understands their operation, but it is a +fact that there are certain substances foreign to the +body which, when present in the blood or tissues, +directly cause us pleasurable sensations, but also so +change the conditions of our perceptivity that we +become insensible of disagreeable sensations. The +two effects not only take place simultaneously, they +seem to be closely bound up with each other. But +there must be substances in the chemical composition +of our bodies which can do the same, for we +know of at least one morbid state, that of mania, in +which a condition similar to this intoxication arises +without any drug being absorbed. Besides this, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>our normal mental life shows variations, according +to which pleasure is experienced with more or less +ease, and along with this goes a diminished or +increased sensitivity to pain. It is greatly to be +regretted that this toxic aspect of mental processes +has so far eluded scientific research. The services +rendered by intoxicating substances in the struggle +for happiness and in warding off misery rank so +highly as a benefit that both individuals and races +have given them an established position within their +libido-economy. It is not merely the immediate +gain in pleasure which one owes to them, but also a +measure of that independence of the outer world +which is so sorely craved. Men know that with the +help they can get from ‘drowning their cares’ they +can at any time slip away from the oppression of +reality and find a refuge in a world of their own +where painful feelings do not enter. We are aware +that it is just this property which constitutes the +danger and injuriousness of intoxicating substances. +In certain circumstances they are to blame +when valuable energies which could have been +used to improve the lot of humanity are uselessly +wasted.</p> + +<p>The complicated structure of our mental +apparatus admits, however, of a whole series of +other kinds of influence. The gratification of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>instincts is happiness, but when the outer world +lets us starve, refuses us satisfaction of our needs, +they become the cause of very great suffering. So +the hope is born that by influencing these impulses +one may escape some measure of suffering. This +type of defence against pain no longer relates to the +sensory apparatus; it seeks to control the internal +sources of our needs themselves. An extreme form +of it consists in annihilation of the instincts, as +taught by the wisdom of the East and practised by +the Yogi. When it succeeds, it is true, it involves +giving up all other activities as well (sacrificing the +whole of life), and again, by another path, the only +happiness it brings is that of peace. The same way +is taken when the aim is less extreme and only +control of the instincts is sought. When this is so, +the higher mental systems which recognize the +reality-principle have the upper hand. The aim of +gratification is by no means abandoned in this case; +a certain degree of protection against suffering is +secured, in that lack of satisfaction causes less pain +when the instincts are kept in check than when they +are unbridled. On the other hand, this brings with +it an undeniable reduction in the degree of enjoyment +obtainable. The feeling of happiness produced +by indulgence of a wild, untamed craving is +incomparably more intense than is the satisfying of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>a curbed desire. The irresistibility of perverted +impulses, perhaps the charm of forbidden things +generally, may in this way be explained economically.</p> + +<p>Another method of guarding against pain is by +using the libido-displacements that our mental +equipment allows of, by which it gains so greatly in +flexibility. The task is then one of transferring the +instinctual aims into such directions that they +cannot be frustrated by the outer world. Sublimation +of the instincts lends an aid in this. Its +success is greatest when a man knows how to +heighten sufficiently his capacity for obtaining +pleasure from mental and intellectual work. Fate +has little power against him then. This kind of +satisfaction, such as the artist’s joy in creation, +in embodying his phantasies, or the scientist’s in +solving problems or discovering truth, has a special +quality which we shall certainly one day be able to +define metapsychologically. Until then we can +only say metaphorically it seems to us ‘higher and +finer’, but compared with that of gratifying gross +primitive instincts, its intensity is tempered and +diffused; it does not overwhelm us physically. +The weak point of this method, however, is that +it is not generally applicable; it is only available +to the few. It presupposes special gifts and dispositions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>which are not very commonly found in a +sufficient degree. And even to these few it does +not secure complete protection against suffering; +it gives no invulnerable armour against the +arrows of fate, and it usually fails when a +man’s own body becomes a source of suffering to +him.⁠<a id="FNanchor_8_8" href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p>This behaviour reveals clearly enough its aim—that +of making oneself independent of the external +world, by looking for happiness in the inner things +of the mind; in the next method the same features +are even more marked. The connection +with reality is looser still; satisfaction is obtained +through illusions, which are recognized as such, +without the discrepancy between them and reality +being allowed to interfere with the pleasure they +give. These illusions are derived from the life of +phantasy which, at the time when the sense of +reality developed, was expressly exempted from the +demands of the reality-test and set apart for the +purpose of fulfilling wishes which would be very +hard to realize. At the head of these phantasy-pleasures +stands the enjoyment of works of art +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>which through the agency of the artist is opened +to those who cannot themselves create.⁠<a id="FNanchor_9_9" href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> Those +who are sensitive to the influence of art do not +know how to rate it high enough as a source of +happiness and consolation in life. Yet art affects +us but as a mild narcotic and can provide no more +than a temporary refuge for us from the hardships +of life; its influence is not strong enough to make +us forget real misery.</p> + +<p>Another method operates more energetically +and thoroughly; it regards reality as the source +of all suffering, as the one and only enemy, with +whom life is intolerable and with whom therefore +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>all relations must be broken off if one is to be +happy in any way at all. The hermit turns his +back on this world; he will have nothing to do +with it. But one can do more than that; one can +try to re-create it, try to build up another instead, +from which the most unbearable features are eliminated +and replaced by others corresponding to +one’s own wishes. He who in his despair and +defiance sets out on this path will not as a rule +get very far; reality will be too strong for him. +He becomes a madman and usually finds no one +to help him in carrying through his delusion. It +is said, however, that each one of us behaves in +some respect like the paranoiac, substituting a +wish-fulfilment for some aspect of the world which +is unbearable to him, and carrying this delusion +through into reality. When a large number of +people make this attempt together and try to +obtain assurance of happiness and protection from +suffering by a delusional transformation of reality +it acquires special significance. The religions of +humanity, too, must be classified as mass-delusions +of this kind. Needless to say, no one who shares +a delusion recognizes it as such.</p> + +<p>I do not suppose that I have enumerated all the +methods by which men strive to win happiness +and keep suffering at bay, and I know, too, that the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>material might have been arranged differently. +One of these methods I have not yet mentioned at +all—not because I had forgotten it, but because it +will interest us in another connection. How would +it be possible to forget this way of all others of +practising the art of life! It is conspicuous for +its remarkable capacity to combine characteristic +features. Needless to say, it, too, strives to bring +about independence of fate—as we may best call +it—and with this object it looks for satisfaction +within the mind, and uses the capacity for displacing +libido which we mentioned before, but it +does not turn away from the outer world; on the +contrary, it takes a firm hold of its objects and +obtains happiness from an emotional relation to +them. Nor is it content to strive for avoidance of +pain—that goal of weary resignation; rather it +passes that by heedlessly and holds fast to the +deep-rooted, passionate striving for a positive fulfilment +of happiness. Perhaps it really comes +nearer to this goal than any other method. I am +speaking, of course, of that way of life which makes +love the centre of all things and anticipates all +happiness from loving and being loved. This attitude +is familiar enough to all of us; one of the +forms in which love manifests itself, sexual love, +gives us our most intense experience of an overwhelming +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>pleasurable sensation and so furnishes a +prototype for our strivings after happiness. What +is more natural than that we should persist in +seeking happiness along the path by which we +first encountered it? The weak side of this way +of living is clearly evident; and were it not for +this, no human being would ever have thought of +abandoning this path to happiness in favour of any +other. We are never so defenceless against suffering +as when we love, never so forlornly unhappy as +when we have lost our love-object or its love. +But this does not complete the story of that way +of life which bases happiness on love; there is +much more to be said about it.</p> + +<p>We may here go on to consider the interesting +case in which happiness in life is sought first and +foremost in the enjoyment of beauty, wherever it +is to be found by our senses and our judgement, +the beauty of human forms and movements, of +natural objects, of landscapes, of artistic and even +scientific creations. As a goal in life this aesthetic +attitude offers little protection against the menace +of suffering, but it is able to compensate for a great +deal. The enjoyment of beauty produces a particular, +mildly intoxicating kind of sensation. +There is no very evident use in beauty; the necessity +of it for cultural purposes is not apparent, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>and yet civilization could not do without it. The +science of aesthetics investigates the conditions in +which things are regarded as beautiful; it can +give no explanation of the nature or origin of +beauty; as usual, its lack of results is concealed +under a flood of resounding and meaningless words. +Unfortunately, psycho-analysis, too, has less to say +about beauty than about most things. Its derivation +from the realms of sexual sensation is all that +seems certain; the love of beauty is a perfect +example of a feeling with an inhibited aim. +‘Beauty’ and ‘attraction’ are first of all the attributes +of a sexual object. It is remarkable that the +genitals themselves, the sight of which is always +exciting, are hardly ever regarded as beautiful; +the quality of beauty seems, on the other hand, to +attach to certain secondary sexual characters.</p> + +<p>In spite of the incompleteness of these considerations, +I will venture on a few remarks in +conclusion of this discussion. The goal towards +which the pleasure-principle impels us—of becoming +happy—is not attainable; yet we may not—nay, +cannot—give up the effort to come nearer +to realization of it by some means or other. Very +different paths may be taken towards it: some +pursue the positive aspect of the aim, attainment +of pleasure; others the negative, avoidance of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>pain. By none of these ways can we achieve all +that we desire. In that modified sense in which +we have seen it to be attainable, happiness is a +problem of the economics of the libido in each +individual. There is no sovereign recipe in this +matter which suits all; each one must find out +for himself by which particular means he may +achieve felicity. All kinds of different factors +will operate to influence his choice. It depends +on how much real gratification he is likely to +obtain in the external world, and how far he will +find it necessary to make himself independent of +it; finally, too, on the belief he has in himself of +his power to alter it in accordance with his wishes. +Even at this stage the mental constitution of the +individual will play a decisive part, aside from any +external considerations. The man who is predominantly +erotic will choose emotional relationships +with others before all else; the narcissistic +type, who is more self-sufficient, will seek his +essential satisfactions in the inner workings of his +own soul; the man of action will never abandon +the external world in which he can essay his +power. The interests of narcissistic types will be +determined by their particular gifts and the +degree of instinctual sublimation of which they are +capable. When any choice is pursued to an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>extreme it penalizes itself, in that it exposes the +individual to the dangers accompanying any one +exclusive life-interest which may always prove inadequate. +Just as a cautious business-man avoids +investing all his capital in one concern, so wisdom +would probably admonish us also not to anticipate +all our happiness from one quarter alone. +Success is never certain; it depends on the co-operation +of many factors, perhaps on none more +than the capacity of the mental constitution to +adapt itself to the outer world and then utilize +this last for obtaining pleasure. Anyone who is +born with a specially unfavourable instinctual +constitution, and whose libido-components do not +go through the transformation and modification +necessary for successful achievement in later life, +will find it hard to obtain happiness from his +external environment, especially if he is faced with +the more difficult tasks. One last possibility of +dealing with life remains to such people and it offers +them at least substitute-gratifications; it takes +the form of the flight into neurotic illness, and they +mostly adopt it while they are still young. Those +whose efforts to obtain happiness come to nought +in later years still find consolation in the pleasure +of chronic intoxication, or else they embark upon +that despairing attempt at revolt—psychosis.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> + +<p>Religion circumscribes these measures of choice +and adaptation by urging upon everyone alike its +single way of achieving happiness and guarding +against pain. Its method consists in decrying the +value of life and promulgating a view of the real +world that is distorted like a delusion, and both of +these imply a preliminary intimidating influence +upon intelligence. At such a cost—by the forcible +imposition of mental infantilism and inducing a +mass-delusion—religion succeeds in saving many +people from individual neuroses. But little more. +There are, as we have said, many paths by which +the happiness attainable for man can be reached, +but none which is certain to take him to it. Nor +can religion keep her promises either. When the +faithful find themselves reduced in the end to +speaking of God’s ‘inscrutable decree’, they +thereby avow that all that is left to them in their +sufferings is unconditional submission as a last-remaining +consolation and source of happiness. +And if a man is willing to come to this, he could +probably have arrived there by a shorter road.</p> +<br> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_4_4" href="#FNanchor_4_4" class="label">[4]</a> 1927. London: Hogarth Press, 1928.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_5_5" href="#FNanchor_5_5" class="label">[5]</a> Goethe, <em>Zahmen Xenien IX</em> (Gedichte aus dem Nachlass).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_6_6" href="#FNanchor_6_6" class="label">[6]</a> Wilhelm Busch, in <cite>Die fromme Helene</cite>, says the same +thing on a lower level: ‘The man who has cares has brandy +too.’</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_7_7" href="#FNanchor_7_7" class="label">[7]</a> Goethe even warns us that ‘nothing is so hard to bear as a +train of happy days’. This may be an exaggeration all the +same.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_8_8" href="#FNanchor_8_8" class="label">[8]</a> When there is no special disposition in a man imperatively +prescribing the direction of his life-interest, the ordinary work +all can do for a livelihood can play the part which Voltaire wisely +advocated it should do in our lives. It is not possible to discuss +the significance of work for the economics of the libido adequately +within the limits of a short survey. Laying stress upon importance +of work has a greater effect than any other technique of +living in the direction of binding the individual more closely to +reality; in his work he is at least securely attached to a part of +reality, the human community. Work is no less valuable for the +opportunity it and the human relations connected with it provide +for a very considerable discharge of libidinal component impulses, +narcissistic, aggressive and even erotic, than because it is indispensable +for subsistence and justifies existence in a society. The +daily work of earning a livelihood affords particular satisfaction +when it has been selected by free choice, <em>i.e.</em> when through sublimation +it enables use to be made of existing inclinations, of +instinctual impulses that have retained their strength, or are +more intense than usual for constitutional reasons. And yet as a +path to happiness work is not valued very highly by men. They +do not run after it as they do after other opportunities for gratification. +The great majority work only when forced by necessity, +and this natural human aversion to work gives rise to the most +difficult social problems.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_9_9" href="#FNanchor_9_9" class="label">[9]</a> Cf. ‘Formulations regarding the Two Principles in Mental +Functioning’ (1911), <cite>Collected Papers</cite>, vol. iv.; and <cite>Introductory +Lectures on Psycho-Analysis</cite> (1915-17), London, 1922, chapter xxiii.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="III"> + III + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Our</span> discussion of happiness has so far not +taught us much that is not already +common knowledge. Nor does the prospect +of discovering anything new seem much +greater if we go on with the problem why it is so +hard for mankind to be happy. We gave the +answer before, when we cited the three sources of +human sufferings, namely, the superior force of +nature, the disposition to decay of our bodies, and +the inadequacy of our methods of regulating +human relations in the family, the community and +the state. In regard to the first two, our judgement +cannot hesitate: it forces us to recognize these +sources of suffering and to submit to the inevitable. +We shall never completely subdue nature; our +body, too, is an organism, itself a part of nature, and +will always contain the seeds of dissolution, with +its limited powers of adaptation and achievement. +The effect of this recognition is in no way disheartening; +on the contrary, it points out the +direction for our efforts. If we cannot abolish all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>suffering, yet a great deal of it we can, and can +mitigate more; the experience of several thousand +years has convinced us of this. To the third, the +social source of our distresses, we take up a different +attitude. We prefer not to regard it as one at all; +we cannot see why the systems we have ourselves +created should not rather ensure protection and +well-being for us all. To be sure, when we consider +how unsuccessful our efforts to safeguard against +suffering in this particular have proved, the suspicion +dawns upon us that a bit of unconquerable +nature lurks concealed behind this difficulty as +well—in the shape of our own mental constitution.</p> + +<p>When we start to consider this possibility, we +come across a point of view which is so amazing that +we will pause over it. According to it, our so-called +civilization itself is to blame for a great part +of our misery, and we should be much happier if we +were to give it up and go back to primitive conditions. +I call this amazing because—however one +may define culture—it is undeniable that every +means by which we try to guard ourselves against +menaces from the several sources of human distress +is a part of this same culture.</p> + +<p>How has it come about that so many people +have adopted this strange attitude of hostility to +civilization? In my opinion, it arose from a background +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>of profound long-standing discontent with +the existing state of civilization, which finally +crystallized into this judgement as a result of +certain historical happenings. I believe I can +identify the last two of these; I am not learned +enough to trace the links in the chain back into the +history of the human species. At the time when +Christianity conquered the pagan religions some +such antagonism to culture must already have been +actively at work. It is closely related to the low +estimation put upon earthly life by Christian +doctrine. The earlier of the last two historical +developments was when, as a result of voyages of +discovery, men came into contact with primitive +peoples and races. To the Europeans, who failed +to observe them carefully and misunderstood what +they saw, these people seemed to lead simple, happy +lives—wanting for nothing—such as the travellers +who visited them, with all their superior culture, +were unable to achieve. Later experience has +corrected this opinion on many points; in several +instances the ease of life was due to the bounty of +nature and the possibilities of ready satisfaction for +the great human needs, but it was erroneously +attributed to the absence of the complicated conditions +of civilization. The last of the two historical +events is especially familiar to us; it was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>when people began to understand the nature of +the neuroses which threaten to undermine the +modicum of happiness open to civilized man. It +was found that men become neurotic because they +cannot tolerate the degree of privation that society +imposes on them in virtue of its cultural ideals, and +it was supposed that a return to greater possibilities +of happiness would ensue if these standards +were abolished or greatly relaxed.</p> + +<p>And there exists an element of disappointment, +in addition. In the last generations man has made +extraordinary strides in knowledge of the natural +sciences and technical application of them, and +has established his dominion over nature in a way +never before imagined. The details of this forward +progress are universally known: it is unnecessary +to enumerate them. Mankind is proud of its +exploits and has a right to be. But men are +beginning to perceive that all this newly-won power +over space and time, this conquest of the forces of +nature, this fulfilment of age-old longings, has not +increased the amount of pleasure they can obtain +in life, has not made them feel any happier. The +valid conclusion from this is merely that power over +nature is not the only condition of human happiness, +just as it is not the only goal of civilization’s +efforts, and there is no ground for inferring that its +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>technical progress is worthless from the standpoint +of happiness. It prompts one to exclaim: is it not +then a positive pleasure, an unequivocal gain in +happiness, to be able to hear, whenever I like, the +voice of a child living hundreds of miles away, or to +know directly a friend of mine arrives at his destination +that he has come well and safely through the +long and troublesome voyage? And is it nothing +that medical science has succeeded in enormously +reducing the mortality of young children, the +dangers of infection for women in childbirth, +indeed, in very considerably prolonging the average +length of human life? And there is still a long list +one could add to these benefits that we owe to +the much-despised era of scientific and practical +progress—but a critical, pessimistic voice makes +itself heard, saying that most of these advantages +follow the model of those ‘cheap pleasures’ in the +anecdote. One gets this enjoyment by sticking +one’s bare leg outside the bedclothes on a cold +winter’s night and then drawing it in again. If +there were no railway to make light of distances +my child would never have left home and I should +not need the telephone to hear his voice. If there +were no vessels crossing the ocean my friend would +never have embarked on his voyage and I should +not need the telegraph to relieve my anxiety about +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>him. What is the use of reducing the mortality of +children when it is precisely this reduction which +imposes the greatest moderation on us in begetting +them, so that taken all round we do not rear more +children than in the days before the reign of hygiene, +while at the same time we have created difficult +conditions for sexual life in marriage and probably +counteracted the beneficial effects of natural selection? +And what do we gain by a long life when +it is full of hardship and starved of joys and so +wretched that we can only welcome death as our +deliverer?</p> + +<p>It seems to be certain that our present-day +civilization does not inspire in us a feeling of well-being, +but it is very difficult to form an opinion +whether in earlier times people felt any happier +and what part their cultural conditions played in +the question. We always tend to regard trouble +objectively, <em>i.e.</em> to place ourselves with our own +wants and our own sensibilities in the same conditions, +so as to discover what opportunities for +happiness or unhappiness we should find in them. +This method of considering the problem, which +appears to be objective because it ignores the +varieties of subjective sensitivity, is of course the +most subjective possible, for by applying it one +substitutes one’s own mental attitude for the unknown +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>attitude of other men. Happiness, on the +contrary, is something essentially subjective. However +we may shrink in horror at the thought of +certain situations, that of the galley-slaves in +antiquity, of the peasants in the Thirty Years’ War, +of the victims of the Inquisition, of the Jews awaiting +a pogrom, it is still impossible for us to feel +ourselves into the position of these people, to +imagine the differences which would be brought +about by constitutional obtuseness of feeling, +gradual stupefaction, the cessation of all anticipation, +and by all the grosser and more subtle ways in +which insensibility to both pleasurable and painful +sensations can be induced. Moreover, on occasions +when the most extreme forms of suffering have to +be endured, special mental protective devices come +into operation. It seems to me unprofitable to +follow up this aspect of the problem further.</p> + +<p>It is time that we should turn our attention to +the nature of this culture, the value of which is so +much disputed from the point of view of happiness. +Until we have learnt something by examining it +for ourselves, we will not look round for formulas +which express its essence in a few words. We will +be content to repeat⁠<a id="FNanchor_10_10" href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> that the word ‘culture’ +describes the sum of the achievements and institutions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>which differentiate our lives from those of our +animal forebears and serve two purposes, namely, +that of protecting humanity against nature and of +regulating the relations of human beings among +themselves. In order to learn more than this, we +must bring together the individual features of +culture as they are manifested in human communities. +We shall have no hesitation in allowing +ourselves to be guided by the common usages of language, +or as one might say, the <em>feeling</em> of language, +confident that we shall thus take into account inner +attitudes which still resist expression in abstract +terms.</p> + +<p>The beginning is easy. We recognize as belonging +to culture all the activities and possessions which +men use to make the earth serviceable to them, to +protect them against the tyranny of natural forces, +and so on. There is less doubt about this aspect +of civilization than any other. If we go back far +enough we find that the first acts of civilization +were the use of tools, the gaining of power over +fire, and the construction of dwellings. Among +these the acquisition of power over fire stands out +as a quite exceptional achievement, without a +prototype;⁠<a id="FNanchor_11_11" href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> while the other two opened up paths +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>which have ever since been pursued by man, the +stimulus towards which is easily imagined. By +means of all his tools, man makes his own organs +more perfect—both the motor and the sensory—or +else removes the obstacles in the way of their +activity. Machinery places gigantic power at his +disposal which, like his muscles, he can employ in +any direction; ships and aircraft have the effect +that neither air nor water can prevent his traversing +them. With spectacles he corrects the defects +of the lens in his own eyes; with telescopes he +looks at far distances; with the microscope he +overcomes the limitations in visibility due to the +structure of his retina. With the photographic +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>camera he has created an instrument which registers +transitory visual impressions, just as the gramophone +does with equally transient auditory ones; +both are at bottom materializations of his own +power of memory. With the help of the telephone +he can hear at distances which even fairy-tales +would treat as insuperable; writing to begin +with was the voice of the absent; dwellings were +a substitute for the mother’s womb, that first +abode, in which he was safe and felt so content, +for which he probably yearns ever after.</p> + +<p>It sounds like a fairy-tale, but not only that; +this story of what man by his science and practical +inventions has achieved on this earth, where he +first appeared as a weakly member of the animal +kingdom, and on which each individual of his +species must ever again appear as a helpless infant—O +inch of nature!—is a direct fulfilment of all, or +of most, of the dearest wishes in his fairy-tales. All +these possessions he has acquired through culture. +Long ago he formed an ideal conception of omnipotence +and omniscience which he embodied in his +gods. Whatever seemed unattainable to his desires—or +forbidden to him—he attributed to these +gods. One may say, therefore, that these gods +were the ideals of his culture. Now he has himself +approached very near to realizing this ideal, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>he has nearly become a god himself. But only, it +is true, in the way that ideals are usually realized +in the general experience of humanity. Not completely; +in some respects not at all, in others only +by halves. Man has become a god by means of +artificial limbs, so to speak, quite magnificent +when equipped with all his accessory organs; +but they do not grow on him and they still give +him trouble at times. However, he is entitled +to console himself with the thought that this +evolution will not come to an end in <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> 1930. +Future ages will produce further great advances +in this realm of culture, probably inconceivable +now, and will increase man’s likeness to a god still +more. But with the aim of our study in mind, +we will not forget, all the same, that the human +being of to-day is not happy with all his likeness +to a god.</p> + +<p>Thus we recognize that a country has attained +a high level of civilization when we find that +everything in it that can be helpful in exploiting +the earth for man’s benefit and in protecting +him against nature—everything, in short, that is +useful to him—is cultivated and effectively protected. +In such a country the course of rivers +which threaten to overflow their banks is regulated, +their waters guided through canals to places +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>where they are needed. The soil is industriously +cultivated and planted with the vegetation suited +to it; the mineral wealth is brought up assiduously +from the depths and wrought into the +implements and utensils that are required. The +means of communication are frequent, rapid and +reliable; wild and dangerous animals have been +exterminated, the breeding of tamed and domesticated +ones prospers. But we demand other things +besides these of civilization, and, curiously enough, +we expect to find them existing in the same +countries. As if we wished to repudiate the first +requisition we made, we count it also as proof of +a high level of civilization when we see that the +industry of the inhabitants is applied as well to +things which are not in the least useful and, on +the contrary, seem to be useless, <em>e.g.</em> when the +parks and gardens in a town, which are necessary +as playgrounds and air-reservoirs, also bear flowering +plants, or when the windows of dwellings are +adorned with flowers. We soon become aware +that the useless thing which we require of civilization +is beauty; we expect a cultured people to +revere beauty where it is found in nature and to +create it in their handiwork so far as they are able. +But this is far from exhausting what we require of +civilization. Besides, we expect to see the signs +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>of cleanliness and order. We do not think highly +of the cultural level of an English country town +in the time of Shakespeare when we read that +there was a tall dungheap in front of his father’s +house in Stratford; we are indignant and call it +‘barbarous’, which is the opposite of civilized, +when we find the paths in the Wiener Wald +littered with paper. Dirt of any kind seems to us +incompatible with civilization; we extend our +demands for cleanliness to the human body also, +and are amazed to hear what an objectionable +odour emanated from the person of the Roi +Soleil; we shake our heads when we are shown +the tiny wash-basin on the Isola Bella which +Napoleon used for his daily ablutions. Indeed, +we are not surprised if anyone employs the use of +soap as a direct measure of civilization. It is the +same with order, which, like cleanliness, relates +entirely to man’s handiwork. But whereas we +cannot expect cleanliness in nature, order has, on +the contrary, been imitated from nature; man’s +observations of the great astronomical periodicities +not only furnished him with a model, but formed +the ground-plan of his first attempts to introduce +order into his own life. Order is a kind of repetition-compulsion +by which it is ordained once for +all when, where and how a thing shall be done so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span>that on every similar occasion doubt and hesitation +shall be avoided. The benefits of order are +incontestable: it enables us to use space and time +to the best advantage, while saving expenditure +of mental energy. One would be justified in expecting +that it would have ingrained itself from +the start and without opposition into all human +activities; and one may well wonder that this has +not happened, and that, on the contrary, human +beings manifest an inborn tendency to negligence, +irregularity and untrustworthiness in their work, +and have to be laboriously trained to imitate the +example of their celestial models.</p> + +<p>Beauty, cleanliness and order clearly occupy a +peculiar position among the requirements of civilization. +No one will maintain that they are as +essential to life as the activities aimed at controlling +the forces of nature and as other factors which +we have yet to mention; and yet no one would +willingly relegate them to the background as +trivial matters. Beauty is an instance which +plainly shows that culture is not simply utilitarian +in its aims, for the lack of beauty is a thing we +cannot tolerate in civilization. The utilitarian +advantages of order are quite apparent; with +regard to cleanliness we have to remember that it +is required of us by hygiene, and we may surmise +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>that even before the days of scientific prophylaxis +the connection between the two was not altogether +unsuspected by mankind. But these aims and +endeavours of culture are not entirely to be explained +on utilitarian lines; there must be something +else at work besides.</p> + +<p>According to general opinion, however, there is +one feature of culture which characterizes it better +than any other, and that is the value it sets upon +the higher mental activities—intellectual, scientific, +and aesthetic achievement—the leading part +it concedes to ideas in human life. First and foremost +among these ideas come the religious systems +with their complicated evolution, on which I have +elsewhere endeavoured to throw a light; next to +them come philosophical speculations; and last, +the ideals man has formed, his conceptions of the +perfection possible in an individual, in a people, +in humanity as a whole, and the demands he makes +on the basis of these conceptions. These creations +of his mind are not independent of each other; on +the contrary, they are closely interwoven, and +this complicates the attempt to describe them, as +well as that to trace their psychological derivation. +If we assume as a general hypothesis that +the force behind all human activities is a striving +towards the two convergent aims of profit and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>pleasure, we must then acknowledge this as valid +also for these other manifestations of culture, +although it can be plainly recognized as true only +in respect of science and art. It cannot be +doubted, however, that the remainder, too, correspond +to some powerful need in human beings—perhaps +to one which develops fully only in a +minority of people. Nor may we allow ourselves +to be misled by our own judgements concerning +the value of any of these religious or philosophical +systems or of these ideals; whether we look upon +them as the highest achievement of the human +mind, or whether we deplore them as fallacies, one +must acknowledge that where they exist, and +especially where they are in the ascendant, they +testify to a high level of civilization.</p> + +<p>We now have to consider the last, and certainly +by no means the least important, of the components +of culture, namely, the ways in which social relations, +the relations of one man to another, are +regulated, all that has to do with him as a neighbour, +a source of help, a sexual object to others, a +member of a family or of a state. It is especially +difficult in this matter to remain unbiased by any +ideal standards and to ascertain exactly what is +specifically cultural here. Perhaps one might begin +with the statement that the first attempt ever +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>made to regulate these social relations already +contained the essential element of civilization. Had +no such attempt been made, these relations would +be subject to the wills of individuals: that is to say, +the man who was physically strongest would decide +things in accordance with his own interests and +desires. The situation would remain the same +even though this strong man should in his turn +meet with another who was stronger than he. +Human life in communities only becomes possible +when a number of men unite together in strength +superior to any single individual and remain united +against all single individuals. The strength of this +united body is then opposed as ‘Right’ against the +strength of any individual, which is condemned as +‘brute force’. This substitution of the power of a +united number for the power of a single man is the +decisive step towards civilization. The essence of +it lies in the circumstance that the members of the +community have restricted their possibilities of +gratification, whereas the individual recognized no +such restrictions. The first requisite of culture, +therefore, is justice—that is, the assurance that a +law once made will not be broken in favour of any +individual. This implies nothing about the ethical +value of any such law. The further course of +cultural development seems to tend towards +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>ensuring that the law shall no longer represent the +will of any small body—caste, tribe, section of the +population—which may behave like a predatory +individual towards other such groups perhaps containing +larger numbers. The end-result would be +a state of law to which all—that is, all who are +capable of uniting—have contributed by making +some sacrifice of their own desires, and which leaves +none—again with the same exception—at the +mercy of brute force.</p> + +<p>The liberty of the individual is not a benefit of +culture. It was greatest before any culture, though +indeed it had little value at that time, because the +individual was hardly in a position to defend it. +Liberty has undergone restrictions through the +evolution of civilization and justice demands that +these restrictions shall apply to all. The desire for +freedom that makes itself felt in a human community +may be a revolt against some existing +injustice and so may prove favourable to a further +development of civilization and remain compatible +with it. But it may also have its origin in the +primitive roots of the personality, still unfettered +by civilizing influences, and so become a source of +antagonism to culture. Thus the cry for freedom +is directed either against particular forms or +demands of culture or else against culture itself. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>It does not seem as if man could be brought by any +sort of influence to change his nature into that of +the ants; he will always, one imagines, defend his +claim to individual freedom against the will of the +multitude. A great part of the struggles of mankind +centres round the single task of finding some +expedient (<em>i.e.</em> satisfying) solution between these +individual claims and those of the civilized community; +it is one of the problems of man’s fate +whether this solution can be arrived at in some +particular form of culture or whether the conflict +will prove irreconcilable.</p> + +<p>We have obtained a clear impression of the +general picture presented by culture through adopting +the common view as to which aspects of human +life are to be called cultural; but it is true that so +far we have discovered nothing that is not common +knowledge. We have, however, at the same time +guarded ourselves against accepting the misconception +that civilization is synonymous with +becoming perfect, is the path by which man is +ordained to reach perfection. But now a certain +point of view presses for consideration; it will lead +perhaps in another direction. The evolution of +culture seems to us a peculiar kind of process +passing over humanity, of which several aspects +strike us as familiar. We can describe this process +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>in terms of the modifications it effects on the known +human instinctual dispositions, which it is the +economic task of our lives to satisfy. Some of these +instincts become absorbed, as it were, so that something +appears in place of them which in an individual +we call a character-trait. The most remarkable +example of this process is found in respect of +the anal erotism of young human beings. Their +primary interest in the excretory function, its +organs and products, is changed in the course of +their growth into a group of traits that we know +well—thriftiness, orderliness and cleanliness—valuable +and welcome qualities in themselves, +which, however, may be intensified till they visibly +dominate the personality and produce what we call +the anal character. How this happens we do not +know; but there is no doubt about the accuracy +of this conclusion.⁠<a id="FNanchor_12_12" href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Now, we have seen that order +and cleanliness are essentially cultural demands, +although the necessity of them for survival is not +particularly apparent, any more than their suitability +as sources of pleasure. At this point we +must be struck for the first time with the similarity +between the process of cultural development and +that of the libidinal development in an individual. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span>Other instincts have to be induced to change the +conditions of their gratification, to find it along +other paths, a process which is usually identical +with what we know so well as sublimation (of the +aim of an instinct), but which can sometimes be +differentiated from this. Sublimation of instinct +is an especially conspicuous feature of cultural +evolution; this it is that makes it possible for the +higher mental operations, scientific, artistic, ideological +activities, to play such an important part +in civilized life. If one were to yield to a first +impression, one would be tempted to say that +sublimation is a fate which has been forced upon +instincts by culture alone. But it is better to +reflect over this a while longer. Thirdly and lastly, +and this seems most important of all, it is impossible +to ignore the extent to which civilization is built up +on renunciation of instinctual gratifications, the +degree to which the existence of civilization presupposes +the non-gratification (suppression, repression +or something else?) of powerful instinctual +urgencies. This ‘cultural privation’ dominates +the whole field of social relations between human +beings; we know already that it is the cause of the +antagonism against which all civilization has to +fight. It sets hard tasks for our scientific work, too; +we have a great deal to explain here. It is not easy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>to understand how it can become possible to withhold +satisfaction from an instinct. Nor is it by any +means without risk to do so; if the deprivation is +not made good economically, one may be certain of +producing serious disorders.</p> + +<p>But now, if we wish to know what use it is to us +to have recognized the evolution of culture as a +special process, comparable to the normal growth +of an individual to maturity, we must clearly attack +another problem and put the question: what are +the influences to which the evolution of culture +owes its origin, how did it arise and what determined +its course?</p> +<br> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_10_10" href="#FNanchor_10_10" class="label">[10]</a> Cf. <cite>The Future of an Illusion</cite>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_11_11" href="#FNanchor_11_11" class="label">[11]</a> Psycho-analytic material, as yet incomplete and not capable +of unequivocal interpretation, nevertheless admits of a surmise—which +sounds fantastic enough—about the origin of this human +feat. It is as if primitive man had had the impulse, when he +came in contact with fire, to gratify an infantile pleasure in +respect of it and put it out with a stream of urine. The legends +that we possess leave no doubt that flames shooting upwards like +tongues were originally felt to have a phallic sense. Putting out +fire by urinating—which is also introduced in the later fables of +Gulliver in Lilliput and Rabelais’s Gargantua—therefore represented +a sexual act with a man, an enjoyment of masculine +potency in homosexual rivalry. Whoever was the first to deny +himself this pleasure and spare the fire was able to take it with +him and break it in to his own service. By curbing the fire of his +own sexual passion he was able to tame fire as a force of nature. +This great cultural victory was thus a reward for refraining from +gratification of an instinct. Further, it is as if man had placed +woman by the hearth as the guardian of the fire he had taken +captive, because her anatomy makes it impossible for her to +yield to such a temptation. It is remarkable how regularly +analytic findings testify to the close connection between the ideas +of ambition, fire and urethral erotism.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_12_12" href="#FNanchor_12_12" class="label">[12]</a> Cf. ‘Character and Anal Erotism’ (1908), <cite>Collected Papers</cite>, +vol. ii.; also numerous contributions to the subject by Ernest +Jones and others.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="IV"> + IV + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">This</span> task seems too big a one; one may +well confess oneself diffident. Here follows +what little I have been able to elicit +about it.</p> + +<p>Once primitive man had made the discovery +that it lay in his own hands—speaking literally—to +improve his lot on earth by working, it cannot +have been a matter of indifference to him whether +another man worked with him or against him. +The other acquired the value of a fellow-worker, +and it was advantageous to live with him. Even +earlier, in his ape-like prehistory, man had adopted +the habit of forming families: his first helpers +were probably the members of his family. One +may suppose that the founding of families was in +some way connected with the period when the +need for genital satisfaction, no longer appearing +like an occasional guest who turns up suddenly +and then vanishes without letting one hear anything +of him for long intervals, had settled down +with each man like a permanent lodger. When +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>this happened, the male acquired a motive for +keeping the female, or rather, his sexual objects, +near him; while the female, who wanted not to be +separated from her helpless young, in their interests, +too, had to stay by the stronger male.⁠<a id="FNanchor_13_13" href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> In +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>this primitive family one essential feature of culture +is lacking; the will of the father, the head of +it, was unfettered. I have endeavoured in <cite>Totem +und Tabu</cite> to show how the way led from this +family-life to the succeeding phase of communal +existence in the form of a band of brothers. By +overpowering the father, the sons had discovered +that several men united can be stronger than a +single man. The totemic stage of culture is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>founded upon the restrictions that the band were +obliged to impose on one another in order to +maintain the new system. These taboos were the +first ‘Right’ or law. The life of human beings in +common therefore had a twofold foundation, <em>i.e.</em> +the compulsion to work, created by external necessity, +and the power of love, causing the male to +wish to keep his sexual object, the female, near +him, and the female to keep near her that part of +herself which has become detached from her, her +child. Eros and Ananke were the parents of +human culture, too. The first result of culture +was that a larger number of human beings could +then live together in common. And since the +two great powers were here co-operating together, +one might have expected that further cultural +evolution would have proceeded smoothly towards +ever greater mastery over the external world, as +well as towards greater extension in the numbers +of men sharing the life in common. Nor is it easy +to understand how this culture can be felt as +anything but satisfying by those who partake +of it.</p> + +<p>Before we go on to enquire where the disturbances +in it arise, we will let ourselves digress from +the point that love was one of the founders of +culture and so fill a gap left in our previous discussion. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>We said that man, having found by +experience that sexual (genital) love afforded him +his greatest gratification, so that it became in +effect a prototype of all happiness to him, must +have been thereby impelled to seek his happiness +further along the path of sexual relations, to make +genital erotism the central point of his life. We +went on to say that in so doing he becomes to a +very dangerous degree dependent on a part of the +outer world, namely, on his chosen love-object, +and this exposes him to most painful sufferings if +he is rejected by it or loses it through death or +defection. The wise men of all ages have consequently +warned us emphatically against this way +of life; but in spite of all it retains its attraction +for a great number of people.</p> + +<p>A small minority are enabled by their constitution +nevertheless to find happiness along the path +of love; but far-reaching mental transformations +of the erotic function are necessary before this is +possible. These people make themselves independent +of their object’s acquiescence by transferring +the main value from the fact of being loved +to their own act of loving; they protect themselves +against loss of it by attaching their love +not to individual objects but to all men equally, +and they avoid the uncertainties and disappointments +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>of genital love by turning away from its +sexual aim and modifying the instinct into an +impulse with an <em>inhibited aim</em>. The state which +they induce in themselves by this process—an +unchangeable, undeviating, tender attitude—has +little superficial likeness to the stormy vicissitudes +of genital love, from which it is nevertheless +derived. It seems that Saint Francis of Assisi +may have carried this method of using love to +produce an inner feeling of happiness as far as +anyone; what we are thus characterizing as one of +the procedures by which the pleasure-principle +fulfils itself has in fact been linked up in many +ways with religion; the connection between them +may lie in those remote fastnesses of the mind +where the distinctions between the ego and +objects and between the various objects become +matters of indifference. From one ethical standpoint, +the deeper motivation of which will later +become clear to us, this inclination towards an +all-embracing love of others and of the world at +large is regarded as the highest state of mind of +which man is capable. Even at this early stage +in the discussion I will not withhold the two +principal objections we have to raise against this +view. A love that does not discriminate seems to +us to lose some of its own value, since it does an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span>injustice to its object. And secondly, not all +men are worthy of love.</p> + +<p>The love that instituted the family still retains +its power; in its original form it does not stop short +of direct sexual satisfaction, and in its modified +form as aim-inhibited friendliness it influences our +civilization. In both these forms it carries on its +task of binding men and women to one another, +and it does this with greater intensity than can be +achieved through the interest of work in common. +The casual and undifferentiated way in which the +word ‘love’ is employed by language has its genetic +justification. In general usage the relation between +a man and a woman whose genital desires have led +them to found a family is called love; but the positive +attitude of feeling between parents and children, +between brothers and sisters in a family, is also +called love, although to us this relation merits +the description of aim-inhibited love or affection. +Love with an inhibited aim was indeed originally +full sensual love and in men’s unconscious minds is +so still. Both of them, the sensual and the aim-inhibited +forms, reach out beyond the family and +create new bonds with others who before were +strangers. Genital love leads to the forming of +new families; aim-inhibited love to ‘friendships’, +which are valuable culturally because they do not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>entail many of the limitations of genital love—for +instance, its exclusiveness. But the interrelations +between love and culture lose their simplicity +as development proceeds. On the one +hand, love opposes the interests of culture; on +the other, culture menaces love with grievous restrictions.</p> + +<p>This rift between them seems inevitable; the +cause of it is not immediately recognizable. It +expresses itself first in a conflict between the family +and the larger community to which the individual +belongs. We have seen already that one of culture’s +principal endeavours is to cement men and +women together into larger units. But the family +will not give up the individual. The closer the +attachment between the members of it, the more +they often tend to remain aloof from others, and +the harder it is for them to enter into the wider +circle of the world at large. That form of life in +common which is phylogenetically older, and is in +childhood its only form, resists being displaced by +the type that becomes acquired later with culture. +Detachment from the family has become a task that +awaits every adolescent, and often society helps +him through it with pubertal and initiatory rites. +One gets the impression that these difficulties form +an integral part of every process of mental evolution—and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>indeed, at bottom, of every organic +development, too.</p> + +<p>The next discord is caused by women, who soon +become antithetical to cultural trends and spread +around them their conservative influence—the +women who at the beginning laid the foundations +of culture by the appeal of their love. Women +represent the interests of the family and sexual +life; the work of civilization has become more and +more men’s business; it confronts them with ever +harder tasks, compels them to sublimations of +instinct which women are not easily able to achieve. +Since man has not an unlimited amount of mental +energy at his disposal, he must accomplish his +tasks by distributing his libido to the best advantage. +What he employs for cultural purposes he +withdraws to a great extent from women and his +sexual life; his constant association with men and +his dependence on his relations with them even +estrange him from his duties as husband and +father. Woman finds herself thus forced into the +background by the claims of culture and she +adopts an inimical attitude towards it.</p> + +<p>The tendency of culture to set restrictions upon +sexual life is no less evident than its other aim +of widening its sphere of operations. Even the +earliest phase of it, the totemic, brought in its train +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>the prohibition against incestuous object-choice, +perhaps the most maiming wound ever inflicted +throughout the ages on the erotic life of man. +Further limitations are laid on it by taboos, laws +and customs, which touch men as well as women. +Various types of culture differ in the lengths to +which they carry this; and the material structure +of the social fabric also affects the measure of +sexual freedom that remains. We have seen +that culture obeys the laws of psychological economic +necessity in making the restrictions, for it +obtains a great part of the mental energy it needs +by subtracting it from sexuality. Culture behaves +towards sexuality in this respect like a tribe or a +section of the population which has gained the +upper hand and is exploiting the rest to its own +advantage. Fear of a revolt among the oppressed +then becomes a motive for even stricter regulations. +A high-water mark in this type of development has +been reached in our Western European civilization. +Psychologically it is fully justified in beginning by +censuring any manifestations of the sexual life of +children, for there would be no prospect of curbing +the sexual desires of adults if the ground had not +been prepared for it in childhood. Nevertheless +there is no sort of justification for the lengths +beyond this to which civilized society goes in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>actually denying the existence of these manifestations, +which are not merely demonstrable but positively +glaring. Where sexually mature persons +are concerned, object-choice is further narrowed +down to the opposite sex and most of the extragenital +forms of satisfaction are interdicted as +perversions. The standard which declares itself in +these prohibitions is that of a sexual life identical +for all; it pays no heed to the disparities in the +inborn and acquired sexual constitutions of individuals +and cuts off a considerable number of +them from sexual enjoyment, thus becoming a +cause of grievous injustice. The effect of these +restrictive measures might presumably be that all +the sexual interest of those who are normal and not +constitutionally handicapped could flow without +further forfeiture into the channel left open to it. +But the only outlet not thus censured, heterosexual +genital love, is further circumscribed by the +barriers of legitimacy and monogamy. Present-day +civilization gives us plainly to understand that +sexual relations are permitted only on the basis +of a final, indissoluble bond between a man and +woman; that sexuality as a source of enjoyment +for its own sake is unacceptable to it; and that +its intention is to tolerate it only as the hitherto +irreplaceable means of multiplying the human race.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span></p> + +<p>This, of course, represents an extreme. Everyone +knows that it has proved impossible to put it +into execution, even for short periods. Only the +weaklings have submitted to such comprehensive +interference with their sexual freedom, and stronger +natures have done so only under one compensatory +condition, of which mention may be made later. +Civilized society has seen itself obliged to pass over +in silence many transgressions which by its own +ordinances it ought to have penalized. This does +not justify anyone, however, in leaning towards the +other side and assuming that, because it does not +achieve all it aims at, such an attitude on the part +of society is altogether harmless. The sexual life +of civilized man is seriously disabled, whatever we +may say; it sometimes makes an impression of +being a function in process of becoming atrophied, +just as organs like our teeth and our hair seem to +be. One is probably right in supposing that the +importance of sexuality as a source of pleasurable +sensations, <em>i.e.</em> as a means of fulfilling the purpose +of life, has perceptibly decreased.⁠<a id="FNanchor_14_14" href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> Sometimes one +imagines one perceives that it is not only the +oppression of culture, but something in the nature +of the function itself that denies us full satisfaction +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>and urges us in other directions. This may be an +error; it is hard to decide.⁠<a id="FNanchor_15_15" href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> +<br> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_13_13" href="#FNanchor_13_13" class="label">[13]</a> The organic periodicity of the sexual process has persisted, +it is true, but its effect on mental sexual excitation has been almost +reversed. This change is connected primarily with the diminishing +importance of the olfactory stimuli by means of which the +menstrual process produced sexual excitement in the mind of the +male. Their function was taken over by visual stimuli, which +could operate permanently, instead of intermittently like the +olfactory ones. The ‘taboo of menstruation’ has its origin in +this ‘organic repression’, which acted as a barrier against a phase +of development that had been surpassed; all its other motivations +are probably of a secondary nature. (Cf. C. D. Daly, ‘Hindu-mythologie +und Kastrationskomplex’, <cite>Imago</cite>, Bd. xiii., 1927.) +This process is repeated on a different level when the gods of a +foregone cultural epoch are changed into demons in the next. +The diminution in importance of olfactory stimuli seems itself, +however, to be a consequence of man’s erecting himself from the +earth, of his adoption of an upright gait, which made his genitals, +that before had been covered, visible and in need of protection +and so evoked feelings of shame. Man’s erect posture, therefore, +would represent the beginning of the momentous process of +cultural evolution. The chain of development would run from +this onward, through the diminution in the importance of olfactory +stimuli and the isolation of women at their periods to a time +when visual stimuli became paramount, the genitals became +visible, further till sexual excitation became constant and the +family was founded, and so to the threshold of human culture. +This is only a theoretical speculation, but it is important enough +to be worth checking carefully by the conditions obtaining among +the animals closely allied to man.</p> + +<p>There is an unmistakable social factor at work in the impulse +of civilization towards cleanliness, which has been subsequently +justified by considerations of hygiene but had nevertheless found +expression before they were appreciated. The impulse towards +cleanliness originates in the striving to get rid of excretions which +have become unpleasant to the sense-perceptions. We know that +things are different in the nursery. Excreta arouse no aversion +in children; they seem precious to them, as being parts of their +own bodies which have been detached from them. The training +of children is very energetic in this particular; its object is to +expedite the development that lies ahead of them, according to +which the excreta are to become worthless, disgusting, horrible +and despicable to them. Such a reversal of values would be almost +impossible to bring about, were it not that these substances expelled +from the body are destined by their strong odours to share the +fate that overtook the olfactory stimuli after man had erected +himself from the ground. Anal erotism, therefore, is from the first +subjected to the ‘organic repression’ which opened up the way to +culture. The social factor which has been active in the further +modifications of anal erotism comes into play with the fact that +in spite of all man’s evolutionary progress the smell of his own +excretions is scarcely disagreeable to him yet, but so far only +that of the evacuations of others. The man who is not clean, <em>i.e.</em> +who does not eliminate his excretions, therefore offends others, +shows no consideration for them—a fact which is exemplified in the +commonest and most forcible terms of abuse. It would be incomprehensible, +too, that man should use as an abusive epithet the +name of his most faithful friend in the animal world, if dogs did +not incur the contempt of men through two of their characteristics, +<em>i.e.</em> that they are creatures of smell and have no horror of +excrement, and, secondly, that they are not ashamed of their +sexual functions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_14_14" href="#FNanchor_14_14" class="label">[14]</a> There is a short story, which I valued long ago, by a highly +sensitive writer, the Englishman, John Galsworthy, who to-day +enjoys general recognition; it is called ‘The Apple Tree’. It +shows in a very moving and forcible way how there is no longer +any place in present-day civilized life for a simple natural love +between two human beings.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_15_15" href="#FNanchor_15_15" class="label">[15]</a> The following considerations would support the view expressed +above. Man, too, is an animal with an unmistakably +bisexual disposition. The individual represents a fusion of two +symmetrical halves, of which, according to many authorities, one +is purely male, the other female. It is equally possible that each +half was originally hermaphroditic. Sex is a biological fact which +is hard to evaluate psychologically, although it is of extraordinary +importance in mental life. We are accustomed to say that every +human being displays both male and female instinctual impulses, +needs and attributes, but the characteristics of what is male +and female can only be demonstrated in anatomy, and not in +psychology. Where the latter is concerned, the antithesis of sex +fades away into that of activity and passivity, and we far too +readily identify activity with masculinity and passivity with +femininity, a statement which is by no means universally confirmed +in the animal world. The theory of bisexuality is still very obscure +and in psycho-analysis we must be painfully aware of the disadvantage +we are under as long as it still remains unconnected +with the theory of instincts. However this may be, if we assume +it to be a fact that each individual has both male and female +desires which need satisfaction in his sexual life, we shall be +prepared for the possibility that these needs will not both be +gratified on the same object, and that they will interfere with +each other, if they cannot be kept apart so that each impulse +flows into a special channel suited for it. Another difficulty arises +from the circumstance that so often a measure of direct aggressiveness +is coupled with an erotic relationship, over and above its +inherent sadistic components. The love-object does not always +view these complications with the degree of understanding and +tolerance manifested by the peasant woman who complained that +her husband did not love her any more, because he had not beaten +her for a week.</p> + +<p>The conjecture which leads furthest, however, is that—and +here we come back to the remarks in the footnote on p. ⁠<a id="FNanchor_13_13a" href="#Footnote_13_13">66</a>—the +whole of sexuality and not merely anal erotism is threatened with +falling a victim to the organic repression consequent upon man’s +adoption of the erect posture and the lowering in value of the +sense of smell; so that since that time the sexual function has +been associated with a resistance not susceptible of further explanation, +which puts obstacles in the way of full satisfaction and +forces it away from its sexual aim towards sublimations and displacements +of libido. I am aware that Bleuler (in ‘Der Sexualwiderstand’, +<cite>Jahrbuch für psychoanalytische und psychopathologische +Forschungen</cite>, Bd. v., 1913) once pointed out the existence +of a fundamental tendency of this kind towards rejecting sexual +life. All neurotics, and many others too, take exception to the +fact that ‘inter urinas et faeces nascimur’. The genitals, too, +excite the olfactory sense strongly in a way that many people +cannot tolerate and which spoils sexual intercourse for them. +Thus we should find, as the deepest root of the sexual repression +that marches with culture, the organic defence of the new form +of life that began with the erect posture against the earliest type +of animal existence—a result of scientific researches that coincides +in a curious way with often expressed vulgar prejudices. At the +present time, nevertheless, these results are but unconfirmed +possibilities, not yet scientifically substantiated. Nor should we +forget that, in spite of the undeniable diminution in the importance +of olfactory stimuli, there exist even in Europe races who prize +highly as aphrodisiacs the strong genital odours so objectionable to +us and who will not renounce them. (Cf. the reports of folkloristic +information obtained by Iwan Bloch’s ‘Questionnaire’, appearing +under the title of ‘Über den Geruchssinn in der vita sexualis’ in +various volumes of Friedrich S. Krauss’ <cite>Anthropophyteia</cite>.)</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="V"> + V + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Psycho-analytic</span> 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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>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?</p> + +<p>When I look more closely I find still further +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>as a greater imposition. It is at bottom the same +thing.⁠<a id="FNanchor_16_16" href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p> + +<p>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 <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Credo quia absurdum</i>.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>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, ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Que messieurs les assassins commencent!</i>’</p> + +<p>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. +<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Homo homini lupus</i>; 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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>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.</p> + +<p>The Communists believe they have found a +way of delivering us from this evil. Man is wholeheartedly +good and friendly to his neighbour, they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>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.⁠<a id="FNanchor_17_17" href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> 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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span>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.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span></p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>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 ‘<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la +misère psychologique</i>’ 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.⁠<a id="FNanchor_18_18" href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> +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.</p> +<br> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_16_16" href="#FNanchor_16_16" class="label">[16]</a> A great poet may permit himself, at least in jest, to give +utterance to psychological truths that are heavily censured. Thus +Heine: ‘Mine is the most peaceable disposition. My wishes are +a humble dwelling with a thatched roof, but a good bed, good food, +milk and butter of the freshest, flowers at my windows, some +fine tall trees before my door; and if the good God wants to +make me completely happy, he will grant me the joy of seeing +some six or seven of my enemies hanging from these trees. With +my heart full of deep emotion I shall forgive them before they +die all the wrong they did me in their lifetime—true, one must +forgive one’s enemies, but not until they are brought to execution.’ +(Heine, <cite>Gedanken und Einfälle</cite>.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_17_17" href="#FNanchor_17_17" class="label">[17]</a> Anyone who has been through the misery of poverty in his +youth, and has endured the indifference and arrogance of those +who have possessions, should be exempt from the suspicion that +he has no understanding of or goodwill towards the endeavours +made to fight the economic inequality of men and all that it +leads to. To be sure, if an attempt is made to base this fight upon +an abstract demand for equality for all in the name of justice, +there is a very obvious objection to be made, namely, that nature +began the injustice by the highly unequal way in which she +endows individuals physically and mentally, for which there is +no help.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_18_18" href="#FNanchor_18_18" class="label">[18]</a> Cf. <cite>Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego</cite> (1921). +London: Hogarth Press, 1922.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VI"> + VI + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Never</span> before in any of my previous writings +have I had the feeling so strongly as I have +now that what I am describing is common +knowledge, that I am requisitioning paper and ink, +and in due course the labour of compositors and +printers, in order to expound things that in themselves +are obvious. For this reason, if it should +appear that the recognition of a special independent +instinct of aggression would entail a modification of +the psycho-analytical theory of instincts, I should +be glad enough to seize upon the idea.</p> + +<p>We shall see that this is not so, that it is merely +a matter of coming to closer quarters with a conclusion +to which we long ago committed ourselves +and following it out to its logical consequences. +The whole of analytic theory has evolved gradually +enough, but the theory of instincts has groped +its way forward under greater difficulties than any +other part of it. And yet a theory of instincts was so +indispensable for the rest that something had to +be adopted in place of it. In my utter perplexity +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>at the beginning, I took as my starting-point the +poet-philosopher Schiller’s aphorism, that hunger +and love make the world go round. Hunger would +serve to represent those instincts which aim at +preservation of the individual; love seeks for +objects: its chief function, which is favoured in +every way by nature, is preservation of the species. +Thus first arose the contrast between ego instincts +and object instincts. For the energy of the latter +instincts and exclusively for them I introduced the +term libido; an antithesis was thus formed between +the ego instincts and the libidinal instincts +directed towards objects, <em>i.e.</em> love in its widest +sense. One of these object instincts, the sadistic, +certainly stood out from the rest in that its aim was +so very unloving; moreover, it clearly allied itself +in many of its aspects with the ego instincts, and its +close kinship with instincts of mastery without any +libidinal purpose could not be concealed, but these +ambiguities could be overcome; in spite of them, +sadism plainly belonged to sexual life—the game of +cruelty could take the place of the game of love. +Neurosis appeared as the outcome of a struggle +between the interests of self-preservation and the +claims of libido, a struggle in which the ego was +victorious, but at the price of great suffering and +renunciations.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span></p> + +<p>Every analyst will admit that none of this even +now reads like a statement long since recognized as +erroneous. All the same, modifications had to be +made as our researches advanced from the repressed +to the repressing, from the object instincts +to the ego. A cardinal point in this advance was +the introduction of the concept of narcissism, <em>i.e.</em> +the idea that libido cathects the ego itself, that its +first dwelling-place was in the ego, and that the +latter remains to some extent its permanent headquarters. +This narcissistic libido turns in the +direction of objects, thus becoming object-libido, +and can transform itself back into narcissistic libido. +The concept of narcissism made it possible to consider +the traumatic neuroses, as well as many +diseases bordering on the psychoses, and also the +latter themselves, from the psycho-analytic angle. +It was not necessary to abandon the view that the +transference-neuroses are attempts on the part of +the ego to guard itself against sexuality, but the +concept of the libido was jeopardized. Since the +ego-instincts were found to be libidinal as well, it +seemed for a time inevitable that libido should +become synonymous with instinctual energy in +general, as C. G. Jung had previously advocated. +Yet there still remained in me a kind of conviction, +for which as yet there were no grounds, that the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>instincts could not all be of the same nature. I +made the next step in <cite>Beyond the Pleasure Principle</cite> +(1920), when the repetition-compulsion and the +conservative character of instinctual life first struck +me. On the basis of speculations concerning the +origin of life and of biological parallels, I drew the +conclusion that, beside the instinct preserving the +organic substance and binding it into ever larger +units,⁠<a id="FNanchor_19_19" href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> there must exist another in antithesis to +this, which would seek to dissolve these units and +reinstate their antecedent inorganic state. That +is to say, a death instinct as well as Eros; the +phenomena of life would then be explicable from +the interplay of the two and their counteracting +effects on each other. It was not easy, however, +to demonstrate the working of this hypothetical +death instinct. The manifestations of Eros were +conspicuous and audible enough; one might assume +that the death instinct worked silently within the +organism towards its disintegration, but that, of +course, was no proof. The idea that part of the +instinct became directed towards the outer world +and then showed itself as an instinct of aggression +and destruction carried us a step further. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>instinct would thus itself have been pressed into +the service of Eros, in that the organism would be +destroying something animate or inanimate outside +itself instead of itself. Conversely, any cessation +of this flow outwards must have the effect of +intensifying the self-destruction which in any +case would always be going on within. From this +example one could then surmise that the two kinds +of instincts seldom—perhaps never—appear in +isolation, but always mingle with each other in +different, very varying proportions, and so make +themselves unrecognizable to us. Sadism, long +since known to us as a component-instinct of +sexuality, would represent a particularly strong +admixture of the instinct of destruction into the +love impulse; while its counterpart, masochism, +would be an alliance between sexuality and the +destruction at work within the self, in consequence +of which the otherwise imperceptible destructive +trend became directly evident and palpable.</p> + +<p>The assumption of the existence of a death instinct +or a destruction instinct has roused opposition even +in analytical circles; I know that there is a great +tendency to ascribe all that is dangerous and hostile +in love rather to a fundamental bipolarity in its own +nature. The conceptions I have summarized here +I first put forward only tentatively, but in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>course of time they have won such a hold over me +that I can no longer think in any other way. To +my mind they are theoretically far more fruitful +than any others it is possible to employ; they +provide us with that simplification, without either +ignoring or doing violence to the facts, which is +what we strive after in scientific work. I know that +we have always had before our eyes manifestations +of the destruction instinct fused with erotism, +directed outwards and inwards in sadism and +masochism; but I can no longer understand how +we could have overlooked the universality of non-erotic +aggression and destruction, and could have +omitted to give it its due significance in our interpretation +of life. (It is true that the destructive +trend that is directed inwards, when it is not +erotically tinged, usually eludes our perceptions.) +I can remember my own defensive attitude when +the idea of an instinct of destruction first made its +appearance in psycho-analytical literature and how +long it took until I became accessible to it. That +others should have shown the same resistance, and +still show it, surprises me less. Those who love fairy-tales +do not like it when people speak of the innate +tendencies in mankind towards aggression, destruction +and, in addition, cruelty. For God has made +them in his own image, with his own perfections; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span>no one wants to be reminded how hard it is to reconcile +the undeniable existence—in spite of all the +protestations of Christian Science—of evil with His +omnipotence and supreme goodness. The devil is, in +fact, the best way out in acquittal of God; he can +be used to play the same economic rôle of outlet as +Jews in the world of Aryan ideals. But even so, +one can just as well hold God responsible for the +existence of the devil as for the evil he personifies. +In view of these difficulties, it is expedient for every +man to make humble obeisance on suitable occasions +in honour of the high-minded nature of men; +it will assist him to become universally beloved and +much shall be forgiven unto him on account of it.⁠<a id="FNanchor_20_20" href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span></p> + +<p>The name libido can again be used to denote the +manifestations of the power of Eros in contradistinction +to the energy of the death instinct.⁠<a id="FNanchor_21_21" href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> We +must confess that it is more difficult for us to +detect the latter, and to a great extent we can +merely conjecture its existence as a background +to Eros, also that it eludes us wherever it is not +betrayed by a fusion with Eros. In sadism, where +it bends the erotic aim to its own will and yet at the +same time gratifies the sexual craving completely, +we can obtain the clearest insight into its nature +and its relation to Eros. But even where it shows +itself without any sexual purpose, even in the +blindest frenzy of destructiveness, one cannot +ignore the fact that satisfaction of it is accompanied +by an extraordinarily intense narcissistic enjoyment, +due to the fulfilment it brings to the ego +of its oldest omnipotence-wishes. The instinct of +destruction, when tempered and harnessed (as it +were, inhibited in its aim) and directed towards +objects, is compelled to provide the ego with satisfaction +of its needs and with power over nature. +Since the assumption of its existence is based +essentially on theoretical grounds, it must be confessed +that it is not entirely proof against theoretical +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>objections. But this is how things appear to us +now in the present state of our knowledge; future +research and reflection will undoubtedly bring +further light which will decide the question.</p> + +<p>In all that follows I take up the standpoint that +the tendency to aggression is an innate, independent, +instinctual disposition in man, and I +come back now to the statement that it constitutes +the most powerful obstacle to culture. At one +point in the course of this discussion the idea took +possession of us that culture was a peculiar process +passing over human life and we are still under the +influence of this idea. We may add to this that +the process proves to be in the service of Eros, +which aims at binding together single human individuals, +then families, then tribes, races, nations, +into one great unity, that of humanity. Why this +has to be done we do not know; it is simply the +work of Eros. These masses of men must be bound +to one another libidinally; necessity alone, the +advantages of common work, would not hold them +together. The natural instinct of aggressiveness in +man, the hostility of each one against all and of +all against each one, opposes this programme of +civilization. This instinct of aggression is the +derivative and main representative of the death +instinct we have found alongside of Eros, sharing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>his rule over the earth. And now, it seems to me, +the meaning of the evolution of culture is no longer +a riddle to us. It must present to us the struggle +between Eros and Death, between the instincts of +life and the instincts of destruction, as it works +itself out in the human species. This struggle is +what all life essentially consists of and so the evolution +of civilization may be simply described as +the struggle of the human species for existence.⁠<a id="FNanchor_22_22" href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> +And it is this battle of the Titans that our nurses +and governesses try to compose with their lullaby-song +of Heaven!</p> +<br> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_19_19" href="#FNanchor_19_19" class="label">[19]</a> The contradiction between the tireless tendency of Eros to +spread ever further and the general conservative nature of the +instincts here becomes very noticeable; it would serve as the +starting-point of enquiries into further problems.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_20_20" href="#FNanchor_20_20" class="label">[20]</a> In Goethe’s Mephistopheles we have a quite exceptionally +striking identification of the principle of evil with the instinct of +destruction:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘All entities that be</div> + <div class="verse indent1">Deserve their end—nonentity.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘So all that you name sin, destruction—</div> + <div class="verse indent1">Wickedness, briefly—proves to be</div> + <div class="verse indent1">The native element for me.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<p>As his adversary, the devil himself cites not what is holy and +good, but the power in nature working towards the creation and +renewal of life—that is, Eros.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘From air, from water, germs in thousands,</div> + <div class="verse indent1">As from the soil, break forth, break free,</div> + <div class="verse indent1">Dry, wet, warm, cold—a pullulation!</div> + <div class="verse indent1">Had I not laid on flame a reservation,</div> + <div class="verse indent1">Nothing were set apart for me.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_21_21" href="#FNanchor_21_21" class="label">[21]</a> Our present point of view can be roughly expressed in the +statement that libido participates in every instinctual manifestation, +but that not everything in that manifestation is libido.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_22_22" href="#FNanchor_22_22" class="label">[22]</a> And we may probably add more precisely that its form was +necessarily determined after some definite event which still +remains to be discovered.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VII"> + VII + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Why</span> do the animals, kin to ourselves, not +manifest any such cultural struggle? +Oh, we don’t know. Very probably +certain of them, bees, ants, termites, had to strive +for thousands of centuries before they found the +way to those state institutions, that division of +functions, those restrictions upon individuals, +which we admire them for to-day. It is characteristic +of our present state that we know by our own +feelings that we should not think ourselves happy +in any of these communities of the animal world, +or in any of the rôles they delegate to individuals. +With other animal species it may be that a temporary +deadlock has been reached between the +influences of their environment and the instincts +contending within them, so that a cessation of +development has taken place. In primitive man a +fresh access of libido may have kindled a new spurt +of energy on the part of the instinct of destruction. +There are a great many questions in all this to +which as yet we have no answer.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span></p> + +<p>Another question concerns us more closely now. +What means does civilization make use of to hold +in check the aggressiveness that opposes it, to make +it harmless, perhaps to get rid of it? Some of +these measures we have already come to know, +though not yet the one that is apparently the most +important. We can study it in the evolution of the +individual. What happens in him to render his +craving for aggression innocuous? Something +very curious, that we should never have guessed +and that yet seems simple enough. The aggressiveness +is introjected, ‘internalized’; in fact, it is sent +back where it came from, <em>i.e.</em> directed against the +ego. It is there taken over by a part of the ego +that distinguishes itself from the rest as a super-ego, +and now, in the form of ‘conscience’, exercises +the same propensity to harsh aggressiveness against +the ego that the ego would have liked to enjoy +against others. The tension between the strict +super-ego and the subordinate ego we call the sense +of guilt; it manifests itself as the need for punishment. +Civilization therefore obtains the mastery +over the dangerous love of aggression in individuals +by enfeebling and disarming it and setting up an +institution within their minds to keep watch over +it, like a garrison in a conquered city.</p> + +<p>As to the origin of the sense of guilt, analysts +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>have different views from those of the psychologists; +nor is it easy for analysts to explain it either. First +of all, when one asks how a sense of guilt arises in +anyone, one is told something one cannot dispute: +people feel guilty (pious people call it ‘sinful’) +when they have done something they know to be +‘bad’. But then one sees how little this answer +tells one. Perhaps after some hesitation one will +add that a person who has not actually committed +a bad act, but has merely become aware of the +intention to do so, can also hold himself guilty; +and then one will ask why in this case the intention +is counted as equivalent to the deed. In both +cases, however, one is presupposing that wickedness +has already been recognized as reprehensible, as +something that ought not to be put into execution. +How is this judgement arrived at? One may reject +the suggestion of an original—as one might say, +natural—capacity for discriminating between good +and evil. Evil is often not at all that which would +injure or endanger the ego; on the contrary, it can +also be something that it desires, that would give it +pleasure. An extraneous influence is evidently at +work; it is this that decides what is to be called +good and bad. Since their own feelings would not +have led men along the same path, they must have +had a motive for obeying this extraneous influence. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>It is easy to discover this motive in man’s helplessness +and dependence upon others; it can best be +designated the dread of losing love. If he loses the +love of others on whom he is dependent, he will +forfeit also their protection against many dangers, +and above all he runs the risk that this stronger +person will show his superiority in the form of +punishing him. What is bad is, therefore, to begin +with, whatever causes one to be threatened with a +loss of love; because of the dread of this loss, one +must desist from it. That is why it makes little +difference whether one has already committed the +bad deed or only intends to do so; in either case +the danger begins only when the authority has +found it out, and the latter would behave in the +same way in both cases.</p> + +<p>We call this state of mind a ‘bad conscience’ +but actually it does not deserve this name, for at +this stage the sense of guilt is obviously only the +dread of losing love, ‘social’ anxiety. In a little +child it can never be anything else, but in many +adults too it has only changed in so far as the larger +human community takes the place of the father or +of both parents. Consequently such people habitually +permit themselves to do any bad deed that +procures them something they want, if only they +are sure that no authority will discover it or make +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>them suffer for it; their anxiety relates only to the +possibility of detection.⁠<a id="FNanchor_23_23" href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> Present-day society has +to take into account the prevalence of this state +of mind.</p> + +<p>A great change takes place as soon as the +authority has been internalized by the development +of a super-ego. The manifestations of +conscience are then raised to a new level; to be +accurate, one should not call them conscience and +sense of guilt before this.⁠<a id="FNanchor_24_24" href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> At this point the dread +of discovery ceases to operate and also once for all +any difference between doing evil and wishing to do +it, since nothing is hidden from the super-ego, not +even thoughts. The real seriousness of the situation +has vanished, it is true: for the new authority, the +super-ego, has no motive, as far as we know, for ill-treating +the ego with which it is itself closely bound +up. But the influence of the genetic derivation of +these things, which causes what has been outlived +and surmounted to be re-lived, manifests itself so +that on the whole things remain as they were at the +beginning. The super-ego torments the sinful ego +with the same feelings of dread and watches for +opportunities whereby the outer world can be made +to punish it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span></p> + +<p>At this second stage of development, conscience +exhibits a peculiarity which was absent in the first +and is not very easy to account for. That is, the +more righteous a man is the stricter and more +suspicious will his conscience be, so that ultimately +it is precisely those people who have +carried holiness farthest who reproach themselves +with the deepest sinfulness. This means that +virtue forfeits some of her promised reward; the +submissive and abstemious ego does not enjoy the +trust and confidence of its mentor, and, as it seems, +strives in vain to earn it. Now, to this some people +will be ready to object that these difficulties are +artificialities. A relatively strict and vigilant conscience +is the very sign of a virtuous man, and +though saints may proclaim themselves sinners, +they are not so wrong, in view of the temptations +of instinctual gratifications to which they are +peculiarly liable—since, as we know, temptations +do but increase under constant privation, whereas +they subside, at any rate temporarily, if they are +sometimes gratified. The field of ethics is rich in +problems, and another of the facts we find here is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>that misfortune, <em>i.e.</em> external deprivation, greatly +intensifies the strength of conscience in the super-ego. +As long as things go well with a man, his +conscience is lenient and lets the ego do all kinds +of things; when some calamity befalls, he holds an +inquisition within, discovers his sin, heightens the +standards of his conscience, imposes abstinences +on himself and punishes himself with penances.⁠<a id="FNanchor_25_25" href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> +Whole peoples have acted in this way and still do +so. But this is easily explained from the original +infantile stage of conscience which, as we thus see, +is not abandoned after the introjection into the +super-ego, but persists alongside and behind the +latter. Fate is felt to be a substitute for the +agency of the parents: adversity means that one +is no longer loved by this highest power of all, and, +threatened by this loss of love, one humbles oneself +again before the representative of the parents +in the super-ego which in happier days one had +tried to disregard. This becomes especially clear +when destiny is looked upon in the strictly religious +sense as the expression of God’s will and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span>nothing else. The people of Israel believed themselves +to be God’s favourite child, and when the +great Father hurled visitation after visitation upon +them, it still never shook them in this belief or +caused them to doubt His power and His justice; +they proceeded instead to bring their prophets +into the world to declare their sinfulness to them +and out of their sense of guilt they constructed +the stringent commandments of their priestly religion. +It is curious how differently a savage behaves! +If he has had bad fortune, he does not +throw the blame on himself, but on his fetish, who +has plainly not done his duty by him, and he belabours +it instead of punishing himself.</p> + +<p>Hence we know of two sources for feelings of +guilt: that arising from the dread of authority +and the later one from the dread of the super-ego. +The first one compels us to renounce instinctual +gratification; the other presses over and above +this towards punishment, since the persistence of +forbidden wishes cannot be concealed from the +super-ego. We have also heard how the severity +of the super-ego, the rigour of conscience, is to be +explained. It simply carries on the severity of +external authority which it has succeeded and to +some extent replaced. We see now how renunciation +of instinctual gratification is related to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>sense of guilt. Originally, it is true, renunciation +is the consequence of a dread of external authority; +one gives up pleasures so as not to lose its +love. Having made this renunciation, one is +quits with authority, so to speak; no feeling of +guilt should remain. But with the dread of the +super-ego the case is different. Renunciation of +gratification does not suffice here, for the wish +persists and is not capable of being hidden from +the super-ego. In spite of the renunciations made, +feelings of guilt will be experienced and this is a +great disadvantage economically of the erection +of the super-ego, or, as one may say, of the formation +of conscience. Renunciation no longer has a +completely absolving effect; virtuous restraint is +no longer rewarded by the assurance of love; a +threatened external unhappiness—loss of love and +punishment meted out by external authority—has +been exchanged for a lasting inner unhappiness, +the tension of a sense of guilt.</p> + +<p>These interrelations are so complicated and at +the same time so important that, in spite of the +dangers of repetition, I will consider them again +from another angle. The chronological sequence +would thus be as follows: first, instinct-renunciation +due to dread of an aggression by external +authority—this is, of course, tantamount to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>dread of loss of love, for love is a protection against +these punitive aggressions. Then follows the erection +of an internal authority, and instinctual renunciation +due to dread of it—that is, dread of +conscience. In the second case, there is the +equivalence of wicked acts and wicked intentions; +hence comes the sense of guilt, the need for +punishment. The aggressiveness of conscience +carries on the aggressiveness of authority. Thus +far all seems to be clear; but how can we find a +place in this scheme for the effect produced by +misfortune (<em>i.e.</em> renunciations externally imposed), +for the effect it has of increasing the rigour of +conscience? how account for the exceptional +stringency of conscience in the best men, those +least given to rebel against it? We have already +explained both these peculiarities of conscience, but +probably we still have an impression that these +explanations do not go to the root of the matter, +and that they leave something still unexplained. +And here at last comes in an idea which is quite +peculiar to psycho-analysis and alien to ordinary +ways of thinking. Its nature enables us to understand +why the whole matter necessarily seemed +so confused and obscure to us. It tells us this: +in the beginning conscience (more correctly, the +anxiety which later became conscience) was the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span>cause of instinctual renunciation, but later this +relation is reversed. Every renunciation then becomes +a dynamic fount of conscience; every fresh +abandonment of gratification increases its severity +and intolerance; and if we could only bring it +better into harmony with what we already know +about the development of conscience, we should +be tempted to make the following paradoxical +statement: Conscience is the result of instinctual +renunciation, or: Renunciation (externally imposed) +gives rise to conscience, which then demands +further renunciations.</p> + +<p>The contradiction between this proposition and +our previous knowledge about the genesis of conscience +is not in actual fact so very great and we +can see a way in which it may be still further +reduced. In order to state the problem more +easily, let us select the example of the instinct of +aggression, and let us suppose that the renunciation +in question is always a renunciation of aggression. +This is, of course, merely a provisional assumption. +The effect of instinctual renunciation on conscience +then operates as follows: every impulse of +aggression which we omit to gratify is taken over by +the super-ego and goes to heighten its aggressiveness +(against the ego). It does not fit in well +with this that the original aggressiveness of conscience +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>should represent a continuance of the +rigour of external authority, and so have nothing +to do with renunciation. But we can get rid of +this discrepancy if we presume a different origin +for the first quantum of aggressiveness with which +the super-ego was endowed. When authority prevented +the child from enjoying the first but most +important gratifications of all, aggressive impulses +of considerable intensity must have been +evoked in it, irrespective of the particular nature +of the instinctual deprivations concerned. The +child must necessarily have had to give up the +satisfaction of these revengeful aggressive wishes. +In this situation, in which it is economically so +hard pressed, it has recourse to certain mechanisms +well known to us; by the process of identification +it absorbs into itself the invulnerable authority, +which then becomes the super-ego and comes into +possession of all the aggressiveness which the +child would gladly have exercised against it. The +child’s ego has to content itself with the unhappy +rôle of the authority—the father—who has been +thus degraded. It is, as so often, a reversal of the +original situation, ‘If I were father and you my +child, I would treat <em>you</em> badly’. The relation +between super-ego and ego is a reproduction, distorted +by a wish, of the real relations between the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>ego, before it was subdivided, and an external +object. That is also typical. The essential difference, +however, is that the original severity of the +super-ego does not—or not so much—represent +the severity which has been experienced or anticipated +from the object, but expresses the child’s +own aggressiveness towards the latter. If this is +correct, one could truly assert that conscience is +formed in the beginning from the suppression of an +aggressive impulse and strengthened as time goes +on by each fresh suppression of the kind.</p> + +<p>Now, which of these two theories is the true +one? The earlier, which seemed genetically so +unassailable, or the new one, which rounds off our +theories in such a welcome manner? Clearly, +they are both justified, and by the evidence, too, +of direct observation; they do not contradict each +other, and even coincide at one point, for the +child’s revengeful aggressiveness will be in part +provoked by the amount of punishing aggression +that it anticipates from the father. Experience +has shown, however, that the severity which a +child’s super-ego develops in no way corresponds +to the severity of the treatment it has itself experienced.⁠<a id="FNanchor_26_26" href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> +It seems to be independent of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>latter; a child which has been very leniently +treated can acquire a very strict conscience. But +it would also be wrong to exaggerate this independence; +it is not difficult to assure oneself that +strict upbringing also has a strong influence on the +formation of a child’s super-ego. It comes to this, +that the formation of the super-ego and the development +of conscience are determined in part by +innate constitutional factors and in part by the +influence of the actual environment; and that is +in no way surprising—on the contrary, it is the +invariable aetiological condition of all such processes.⁠<a id="FNanchor_27_27" href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> + +<p>It may also be said that when a child reacts to +the first great instinctual deprivations with an +excessive aggressiveness and a corresponding strictness +of its super-ego, it is thereby following a +phylogenetic prototype, unheedful of what reaction +would in reality be justified; for the father +of primitive times was certainly terrifying, and one +may safely attribute the utmost degree of aggressiveness +to him. The differences between the two +theories of the genesis of conscience are thus still +further diminished if one passes from individual to +phylogenetic development. But then, on the other +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>hand, we find a new important difference between +the two processes. We cannot disregard the conclusion +that man’s sense of guilt has its origin in +the Oedipus complex and was acquired when the +father was killed by the association of the brothers. +At that time the aggression was not suppressed +but carried out, and it is this same act of aggression +whose suppression in the child we regard as +the source of feelings of guilt. Now, I should not +be surprised if a reader were to cry out angrily: +‘So it makes no difference whether one does kill +one’s father or does not, one gets a feeling of guilt +in either case! Here I should think one may be +allowed some doubts. Either it is not true that +guilt is evoked by suppressed aggressiveness or +else the whole story about the father-murder is a +romance, and primeval man did not kill his father +any more often than people do nowadays. Besides +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span>this, if it is not a romance but a plausible +piece of history, it would only be an instance of +what we all expect to happen, namely, that one +feels guilty because one has really done something +which cannot be justified. And what we are all +waiting for is for psycho-analysis to give us an +explanation of this reaction, which at any rate is +something that happens every day.’</p> + +<p>This is true, and we must make good the omission. +There is no great mystery about it either. +When one has feelings of guilt after one has committed +some crime and because of it, this feeling +should more properly be called <em>remorse</em>. It relates +only to the one act, and clearly it presupposes +that <em>conscience</em>, the capacity for feelings of guilt, +was already in existence before the deed. Remorse +of this kind can, therefore, never help us +to find out the source of conscience and feelings +of guilt in general. In these everyday instances +the course of events is usually as follows: an instinctual +need acquires the strength to achieve fulfilment +in spite of conscience, the strength of which +also has its limits, whereupon the inevitable reduction +of the need after satisfaction restores the +earlier balance of forces. Psycho-analysis is quite +justified, therefore, in excluding the case of a sense +of guilt through remorse from this discussion, however +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>frequently it may occur and however great its +importance may be practically.</p> + +<p>But if man’s sense of guilt goes back to the +murder of the father, that was undoubtedly an +instance of ‘remorse’, and yet are we to suppose +that there were no conscience and feelings of +guilt before the act on that occasion? If so, +where did the remorse come from then? This +instance must explain to us the riddle of the sense +of guilt and so make an end of our difficulties. +And it will do so, as I believe. This remorse was +the result of the very earliest primal ambivalence +of feelings towards the father: the sons hated him, +but they loved him too; after their hate against +him had been satisfied by their aggressive acts, +their love came to expression in their remorse +about the deed, set up the super-ego by identification +with the father, gave it the father’s power to +punish as he would have done the aggression they +had performed, and created the restrictions which +should prevent a repetition of the deed. And since +impulses to aggressions against the father were +repeated in the next generations, the feelings of +guilt, too, persisted, and were further reinforced +every time an aggression was suppressed anew and +made over to the super-ego. At this point, it +seems to me, we can at last clearly perceive the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>part played by love in the origin of conscience and +the fatal inevitableness of the sense of guilt. It +is not really a decisive matter whether one has +killed one’s father or abstained from the deed; +one must feel guilty in either case, for guilt is the +expression of the conflict of ambivalence, the +eternal struggle between Eros and the destructive +or death instinct. This conflict is engendered as +soon as man is confronted with the task of living +with his fellows; as long as he knows no other +form of life in common but that of the family, it +must express itself in the Oedipus complex, cause +the development of conscience and create the first +feelings of guilt. When mankind tries to institute +wider forms of communal life, the same conflict +continues to arise—in forms derived from the past—and +intensified so that a further reinforcement of +the sense of guilt results. Since culture obeys an +inner erotic impulse which bids it bind mankind +into a closely-knit mass, it can achieve this aim +only by means of its vigilance in fomenting an +ever-increasing sense of guilt. That which began +in relation to the father ends in relation to the +community. If civilization is an inevitable course +of development from the group of the family to the +group of humanity as a whole, then an intensification +of the sense of guilt—resulting from the innate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>conflict of ambivalence, from the eternal struggle +between the love and the death trends—will be +inextricably bound up with it, until perhaps the +sense of guilt may swell to a magnitude that individuals +can hardly support. One is reminded of +the telling accusation made by the great poet +against the ‘heavenly forces’:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye set our feet on this life’s road,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye watch our guilty, erring courses,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then leave us, bowed beneath our load,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For earth its every debt enforces.⁠<a id="FNanchor_28_28" href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="no-indent">And one may heave a sigh at the thought that +it is vouchsafed to a few, with hardly an effort, +to salve from the whirlpool of their own emotions +the deepest truths, to which we others have to +force our way, ceaselessly groping amid torturing +uncertainties.</p> +<br> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_23_23" href="#FNanchor_23_23" class="label">[23]</a> One is reminded of Rousseau’s famous mandarin!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_24_24" href="#FNanchor_24_24" class="label">[24]</a> Every reasonable person will understand and take into +account that in this descriptive survey things that in reality occur +by gradual transitions are sharply differentiated and that the +mere existence of a super-ego is not the only factor concerned, +but also its relative strength and sphere of influence. All that has +been said above in regard to conscience and guilt, moreover, is +common knowledge and practically undisputed.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_25_25" href="#FNanchor_25_25" class="label">[25]</a> This increased sensitivity of morals in consequence of ill-luck +has been illustrated by Mark Twain in a delicious little story: +<cite>The First Melon I ever Stole</cite>. This melon, as it happened, was unripe. +I heard Mark Twain tell the story himself in one of his +lectures. After he had given out the title, he stopped and asked +himself in a doubtful way: ‘Was it the first?’ This was the +whole story.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_26_26" href="#FNanchor_26_26" class="label">[26]</a> As has rightly been emphasized by Melanie Klein and other +English writers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_27_27" href="#FNanchor_27_27" class="label">[27]</a> In his <cite>Psychoanalyse der Gesamtpersönlichkeit</cite>, 1927, Franz +Alexander has, in connection with Aichhorn’s study of dissocial +behaviour in children, discussed the two main types of pathogenic +methods of training, that of excessive severity and of spoiling. +The ‘unduly lenient and indulgent’ father fosters the development +of an over-strict super-ego because, in face of the love +which is showered on it, the child has no other way of disposing of +its aggressiveness than to turn it inwards. In neglected children +who grow up without any love the tension between ego and +super-ego is lacking; their aggressions can be directed externally. +Apart from any constitutional factor which may be present, +therefore, one may say that a strict conscience arises from the +co-operation of two factors in the environment: the deprivation +of instinctual gratification which evokes the child’s aggressiveness, +and the love it receives which turns this aggressiveness +inwards, where it is taken over by the super-ego.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_28_28" href="#FNanchor_28_28" class="label">[28]</a> Goethe, <cite>Wilhelm Meister</cite>. The Song of the Harper.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII"> + VIII + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">On</span> reaching the end of such a journey as +this, the author must beg his readers to +pardon him for not having been a more +skilful guide, not sparing them bleak stretches of +country at times and laborious detours at others. +There is no doubt that it could have been done +better. I will now try to make some amends.</p> + +<p>First of all, I suspect the reader feels that the +discussion about the sense of guilt oversteps its +proper boundaries in this essay and takes up too +much space, so that the rest of the subject-matter, +which is not always closely connected with it, gets +pushed on one side. This may have spoilt the +composition of the work; but it faithfully corresponds +to my intention to represent the sense of +guilt as the most important problem in the evolution +of culture, and to convey that the price of progress +in civilization is paid in forfeiting happiness +through the heightening of the sense of guilt.⁠<a id="FNanchor_29_29" href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>What sounds puzzling in this statement, which +is the final conclusion of our whole investigation, +is probably due to the quite peculiar relation—as +yet completely unexplained—the sense of +guilt has to our consciousness. In the common +cases of remorse which we think normal it becomes +clearly perceptible to consciousness; indeed, we +often speak of ‘consciousness of guilt’ instead of +sense of guilt. In our study of the neuroses, in +which we have found invaluable clues towards an +understanding of normal people, we find some very +contradictory states of affairs in this respect. In +one of these maladies, the obsessional neurosis, the +sense of guilt makes itself loudly heard in consciousness; +it dominates the clinical picture as +well as the patient’s life and lets hardly anything +else appear alongside of it. But in most of the +other types and forms of neurosis it remains completely +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>unconscious, without its effect being any +less great, however. Our patients do not believe +us when we ascribe an ‘unconscious sense of guilt’ +to them; in order to become even moderately intelligible +to them we have to explain that the sense +of guilt expresses itself in an unconscious seeking +for punishment. But its connection with the +form of the neurosis is not to be over-estimated; +even in the obsessional neurosis there are people +who are not aware of their sense of guilt or who +perceive it only as a tormenting uneasiness or kind +of anxiety and then not until they are prevented +from carrying out certain actions. We ought some +day to be able at last to understand these things; +as yet we cannot. Here perhaps is the place to +remark that at bottom the sense of guilt is nothing +but a topographical variety of anxiety, and that +in its later phases it coincides completely with the +dread of the super-ego. The relation of anxiety +to consciousness, moreover, is characterized by +the same extraordinary variations. Somewhere or +other there is always anxiety hidden behind all +symptoms; at one moment, however, it sweeps +into consciousness, drowning everything else with +its clamour, and at the next it secretes itself so +completely that we are forced to speak of unconscious +anxiety—or if we want to have a cleaner +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>conscience psychologically, since anxiety is after +all only a perception—of possibilities of anxiety. +Consequently it is very likely that the sense of +guilt produced by culture is not perceived as such +and remains to a great extent unconscious, or +comes to expression as a sort of uneasiness or discontent +for which other motivations are sought. +The different religions at any rate have never overlooked +the part played by the sense of guilt in +civilization. What is more, they come forward +with a claim, which I have not considered elsewhere,⁠<a id="FNanchor_30_30" href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> +to save mankind from this sense of guilt, +which they call sin. We indeed have drawn our +conclusions, from the way in which in Christianity +this salvation is won—the sacrificial death of one +who therewith takes the whole of the common +guilt of all upon himself—about the occasion on +which this primal sense of guilt was first acquired, +that is, the occasion which was also the inception +of culture.⁠<a id="FNanchor_31_31" href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></p> + +<p>It will not be very important, but it may be just +as well to go more precisely into the meaning of +certain words like super-ego, conscience, sense of +guilt, need for punishment, remorse, which we have +perhaps often used too loosely and in place of one +another. They all relate to the same situation, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>but they denote different aspects of it. The super-ego +is an agency or institution in the mind whose +existence we have inferred: conscience is a function +we ascribe, among others, to the super-ego; it +consists of watching over and judging the actions +and intentions of the ego, exercising the functions +of a censor. The sense of guilt, the severity of the +super-ego, is therefore the same thing as the rigour +of conscience; it is the perception the ego has +that it is watched in this way, the ego’s appreciation +of the tension between its strivings and the +standards of the super-ego; and the anxiety that +lies behind all these relations, the dread of that +critical institution, the need for punishment, is +an instinctual manifestation on the part of the +ego, which has become masochistic under the +influence of the sadistic super-ego, <em>i.e.</em> which has +brought a part of the instinct of destruction at +work within itself into the service of an erotic +attachment to the super-ego. We ought not to +speak of conscience before a super-ego is demonstrable; +as to consciousness of guilt, we must +admit that it comes into being before the super-ego, +therefore before conscience. At that time it +is the direct expression of the dread of external +authority, the recognition of the tension between +the ego and this latter; it is the direct derivative +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span>of the conflict between the need for parental love +and the urgency towards instinctual gratification, +and it is the thwarting of this urgency that provokes +the tendency to aggression. It is because +these two different versions of the sense of guilt—one +arising from dread of the external and the +other from dread of the inner authority—are +superimposed one on the other that our insight +into the relations of conscience has been hampered +in so many ways. Remorse is a general term denoting +the ego’s reaction under a special form of +the sense of guilt; it includes the almost unaltered +sensory material belonging to the anxiety that is +at work behind the sense of guilt; it is itself a +punishment and may include the need for punishment; +it too, therefore, may occur before conscience +has developed.</p> + +<p>Further, it will do no harm for us to review once +more the contradictions which have confused us at +times during our enquiries. The sense of guilt, we +said at one point, was the consequence of uncommitted +aggressions; but another time and in +particular in the case of its historical beginning, +the murder of the father, it was the consequence of +an aggression that was carried out. We also +found a way out of this difficulty. The development +of the inner authority, the super-ego, was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>precisely what radically altered the whole situation. +Before this, the sense of guilt coincided with +remorse; we observe, in saying this, that the term +remorse is to be reserved for the reaction after an +actual performance of an aggressive deed. After +this, the omniscience of the super-ego robbed the +distinction between intended aggressions and aggressions +committed of its significance; a mere intention +to commit an act of violence could then +evoke a sense of guilt—as psycho-analysis has +found—as well as one which has actually been +committed—as all the world knows. The conflict +of ambivalence between the two primal +instincts leaves the same impress on the psychological +situation, irrespective of the change that +has taken place in this. A temptation arises to +look here for an explanation of the mystery of the +varying relation between the sense of guilt and +consciousness. The sense of guilt which is due to +remorse for an evil deed must always have been +conscious; that due to a perception of an evil +impulse could have remained unconscious. But +it cannot be as simple as that: the obsessional +neurosis contradicts it emphatically. The second +contradiction was that the aggressive energy with +which one imagined the super-ego to be endowed +was, according to one view, merely a continuation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>of the punitive energy belonging to external +authority, preserved within the mind; whereas +according to another view it consisted, on the contrary, +of aggressive energy originating in the self, +levelled against this inhibiting authority but not +allowed to discharge itself in actions. The first +view seemed to accord better with the history of +the sense of guilt, the second with the theory of it. +More searching reflection has resolved this apparently +irreconcilable contradiction almost too completely; +what remained as essential and common +to both was that in both cases we were dealing +with an aggression that had been turned inward. +Clinical observation, moreover, really permits us +to distinguish two sources for the aggressiveness +we ascribe to the super-ego, each of which in any +given case may be operating predominantly, but +which usually are both at work together.</p> + +<p>This, I think, is the place to suggest that a +proposal which I previously put forward as a provisional +assumption should be taken in earnest. +In the latest analytical literature⁠<a id="FNanchor_32_32" href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> a predilection +has been shown for the view that any kind of +privation, any thwarted instinctual gratification, +results in a heightening of the sense of guilt, or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>may do so. I believe one obtains a great simplification +of theory if one regards this as valid <em>only</em> for +the aggressive instincts, and that little will be +found to contradict this assumption. How then +is it to be explained dynamically and economically +that a heightening of the sense of guilt should +appear in place of an unfulfilled erotic desire? +This can surely only happen in a roundabout way: +the thwarting of the erotic gratification provokes +an access of aggressiveness against the person who +interfered with the gratification, and then this +tendency to aggression in its turn has itself to be +suppressed. So then it is, after all, only the aggression +which is changed into guilt, by being +suppressed and made over to the super-ego. I am +convinced that very many processes will admit of +much simpler and clearer explanation if we restrict +the findings of psycho-analysis in respect of +the origin of the sense of guilt to the aggressive +instincts. Reference to the clinical material here +gives us no unequivocal answer, because, according +to our own hypothesis, the two kinds of instincts +hardly ever appear in a pure form, unmixed with +each other; but the investigation of extreme cases +would probably point in the direction I anticipate. +I am tempted to extract our first advantage from +this narrower conception by applying it to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>repression-process. The symptoms of neurosis, as +we have learnt, are essentially substitutive gratifications +for unfulfilled sexual wishes. In the course +of our analytic work we have found to our surprise +that perhaps every neurosis masks a certain amount +of unconscious sense of guilt, which in its turn +reinforces the symptoms by exploiting them as +punishment. One is now inclined to suggest the +following statement as a possible formulation: +when an instinctual trend undergoes repression, +its libidinal elements are transformed into symptoms +and its aggressive components into a sense of +guilt. Even if this statement is only accurate as +an approximation it merits our interest.</p> + +<p>Some readers of this essay, too, may be under +the impression that the formula of the struggle +between Eros and the death instinct has been reiterated +too often. It is supposed to characterize +the cultural process which evolves in humanity; +but it has been related also to the development of +the individual, and besides this, is supposed to have +revealed the secret of organic life in general. It +becomes necessary for us to examine the relation +of these three processes to one another. Now, the +repetition of the same formula is vindicated by the +consideration that the cultural processes both in +humanity and in the development of an individual +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span>are life-processes; consequently they must both +partake of the most universal characteristic of +life. On the other hand, evidence of the presence +of this universal characteristic does not help us +to discriminate, unless it is further narrowed +down by special qualifications. We can therefore +set our minds at rest only if we say that +the cultural process is the particular modification +undergone by the life-process under the influence +of the task set before it by Eros and stimulated +by Ananke, external necessity; and this task is +that of uniting single human beings into a larger +unity with libidinal attachments between them. +When, however, we compare the cultural process +in humanity with the process of development or +upbringing in an individual human being, we shall +conclude without much hesitation that the two +are very similar in nature, if not in fact the same +process applied to a different kind of object. The +civilizing process in the human species is naturally +more of an abstraction than the development of +an individual, and therefore harder to apprehend +in concrete terms, nor should the discovery of +analogies be pushed to extremes; but in view of +the similar character of the aims of the two processes—in +one the incorporation of an individual +as a member of a group and in the other the creation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>of a single group out of many individuals—the +similarity of the means employed and of the results +obtained in the two cases is not surprising. In +view of its exceptional importance, we must no +longer postpone mention of one feature differentiating +the two processes. The development of the +individual is ordered according to the programme +laid down by the pleasure-principle, namely, the +attainment of happiness, and to this main objective +it holds firmly; the incorporation of the individual +as a member of a community, or his adaptation +to it, seems like an almost unavoidable condition +which has to be filled before he can attain this +objective of happiness. If he could achieve it +without fulfilling this condition it would perhaps +be better. To express it differently, we may say: +individual development seems to us a product of +the interplay of two trends, the striving for happiness, +generally called ‘egoistic’, and the impulse +towards merging with others in the community, +which we call ‘altruistic’. Neither of these descriptions +goes far beneath the surface. In individual +development, as we have said, the main +accent falls on the egoistic trend, the striving for +happiness; while the other tendency, which may +be called the ‘cultural’ one, usually contents itself +with instituting restrictions. But things are different +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>in the development of culture: here far the +most important aim is that of creating a single +unity out of individual men and women, while the +objective of happiness, though still present, is +pushed into the background; it almost seems as if +humanity could be most successfully united into +one great whole if there were no need to trouble +about the happiness of individuals. The process +of development in individuals must therefore be +admitted to have its special features which are +not repeated in the cultural evolution of humanity; +the two processes only necessarily coincide in so +far as the first also includes the aim of incorporation +into the community.</p> + +<p>Just as a planet circles round its central body +while at the same time rotating on its own axis, so +the individual man takes his part in the course of +humanity’s development as he goes on his way +through life. But to our dull eyes the play of +forces in the heavens seems set fast in a never-varying +scheme, though in organic life we can still +see how the forces contend with one another and +the results of the conflict change from day to day. +So in every individual the two trends, one towards +personal happiness and the other towards unity +with the rest of humanity, must contend with each +other; so must the two processes of individual +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>and of cultural development oppose each other +and dispute the ground against each other. This +struggle between individual and society, however, +is not derived from the antagonism of the primal +instincts, Eros and Death, which are probably +irreconcilable; it is a dissension in the camp of the +libido itself, comparable to the contest between the +ego and its objects for a share of the libido; and it +does eventually admit of a solution in the individual, +as we may hope it will also do in the future +of civilization—however greatly it may oppress +the lives of individuals at the present time.</p> + +<p>The analogy between the process of cultural +evolution and the path of individual development +may be carried further in an important respect. +It can be maintained that the community, too, +develops a super-ego, under whose influence cultural +evolution proceeds. It would be an enticing +task for an authority on human systems of culture +to work out this analogy in specific cases. I will +confine myself to pointing out certain striking +details. The super-ego of any given epoch of +civilization originates in the same way as that of +an individual; it is based on the impression left +behind them by great leading personalities, men of +outstanding force of mind, or men in whom some +one human tendency has developed in unusual +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span>strength and purity, often for that reason very disproportionately. +In many instances the analogy +goes still further, in that during their lives—often +enough, even if not always—such persons are ridiculed +by others, ill-used or even cruelly done to +death, just as happened with the primal father who +also rose again to become a deity long after his death +by violence. The most striking example of this +double fate is the figure of Jesus Christ, if indeed +it does not itself belong to the realm of mythology +which called it into being out of a dim memory of +that primordial event. Another point of agreement +is that the cultural super-ego, just like that +of an individual, sets up high ideals and standards, +and that failure to fulfil them is punished by both +with ‘anxiety of conscience’. In this particular, +indeed, we come across the remarkable circumstance +that the mental processes concerned here are +actually more familiar to us and more accessible to +consciousness when they proceed from the group +than they can be in the individual. In the latter, +when tension arises, the aggressions of the super-ego +voicing its noisy reproaches are all that is +perceived, while its injunctions themselves often remain +unconscious in the background. If we bring +them to the knowledge of consciousness we find +that they coincide with the demands of the prevailing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>cultural super-ego. At this point the two +processes, that of the evolution of the group and +the development of the individual, are always +firmly mortised together, so to speak. Consequently +many of the effects and properties of the +super-ego can be more easily detected through its +operations in the group than in the individual.</p> + +<p>The cultural super-ego has elaborated its ideals +and erected its standards. Those of its demands +which deal with the relations of human beings to +one another are comprised under the name of +ethics. The greatest value has at all times been +set upon systems of ethics, as if men had expected +them in particular to achieve something especially +important. And ethics does in fact deal predominantly +with the point which is easily seen to +be the sorest of all in any scheme of civilization. +Ethics must be regarded therefore as a therapeutic +effort: as an endeavour to achieve something +through the standards imposed by the super-ego +which had not been attained by the work of +civilization in other ways. We already know—it +is what we have been discussing—that the question +is how to dislodge the greatest obstacle to +civilization, the constitutional tendency in men to +aggressions against one another; and for that very +reason the commandment to love one’s neighbour +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>as oneself—probably the most recent of the cultural +super-ego’s demands—is especially interesting +to us. In our investigations and our therapy +of the neuroses we cannot avoid finding fault with +the super-ego of the individual on two counts: in +commanding and prohibiting with such severity it +troubles too little about the happiness of the ego, +and it fails to take into account sufficiently the +difficulties in the way of obeying it—the strength +of instinctual cravings in the id and the hardships +of external environment. Consequently in +our therapy we often find ourselves obliged to do +battle with the super-ego and work to moderate +its demands. Exactly the same objections can +be made against the ethical standards of the cultural +super-ego. It, too, does not trouble enough +about the mental constitution of human beings; +it enjoins a command and never asks whether or +not it is possible for them to obey it. It presumes, +on the contrary, that a man’s ego is psychologically +capable of anything that is required of it—that his +ego has unlimited power over his id. This is an +error; even in so-called normal people the power +of controlling the id cannot be increased beyond +certain limits. If one asks more of them, one produces +revolt or neurosis in individuals or makes +them unhappy. The command to love our neighbours +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>as ourselves is the strongest defence there is +against human aggressiveness and it is a superlative +example of the unpsychological attitude of +the cultural super-ego. The command is impossible +to fulfil; such an enormous inflation of +love can only lower its value and not remedy the +evil. Civilization pays no heed to all this; it +merely prates that the harder it is to obey the more +laudable the obedience. The fact remains that +anyone who follows such preaching in the present +state of civilization only puts himself at a disadvantage +beside all those who set it at naught. +What an overwhelming obstacle to civilization +aggression must be if the defence against it can +cause as much misery as aggression itself! +‘Natural’ ethics, as it is called, has nothing to +offer here beyond the narcissistic satisfaction of +thinking oneself better than others. The variety +of ethics that links itself with religion brings in at +this point its promises of a better future life. I +should imagine that as long as virtue is not rewarded +in this life ethics will preach in vain. I +too think it unquestionable that an actual change +in men’s attitude to property would be of more +help in this direction than any ethical commands; +but among the Socialists this proposal is obscured +by new idealistic expectations disregarding human +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>nature, which detract from its value in actual +practice.</p> + +<p>It seems to me that the point of view which +seeks to follow the phenomena of cultural evolution +as manifestations of a super-ego promises +to yield still further discoveries. I am coming +quickly to an end. There is one question, however, +which I can hardly ignore. If the evolution +of civilization has such a far-reaching similarity +with the development of an individual, and if the +same methods are employed in both, would not +the diagnosis be justified that many systems of +civilization—or epochs of it—possibly even the +whole of humanity—have become ‘neurotic’ under +the pressure of the civilizing trends? To analytic +dissection of these neuroses therapeutic recommendations +might follow which could claim a +great practical interest. I would not say that such +an attempt to apply psycho-analysis to civilized +society would be fanciful or doomed to fruitlessness. +But it behoves us to be very careful, not to +forget that after all we are dealing only with +analogies, and that it is dangerous, not only with +men but also with concepts, to drag them out +of the region where they originated and have +matured. The diagnosis of collective neuroses, +moreover, will be confronted by a special difficulty. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>In the neurosis of an individual we can +use as a starting-point the contrast presented to +us between the patient and his environment which +we assume to be ‘normal’. No such background +as this would be available for any society similarly +affected; it would have to be supplied in some +other way. And with regard to any therapeutic +application of our knowledge, what would be the +use of the most acute analysis of social neuroses, +since no one possesses power to compel the community +to adopt the therapy? In spite of all +these difficulties, we may expect that one day someone +will venture upon this research into the pathology +of civilized communities.</p> + +<p>For various reasons, it is very far from my +intention to express any opinion concerning the +value of human civilization. I have endeavoured +to guard myself against the enthusiastic partiality +which believes our civilization to be the most +precious thing that we possess or could acquire, +and thinks it must inevitably lead us to undreamt-of +heights of perfection. I can at any rate listen +without taking umbrage to those critics who aver +that when one surveys the aims of civilization and +the means it employs, one is bound to conclude that +the whole thing is not worth the effort and that in +the end it can only produce a state of things which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>no individual will be able to bear. My impartiality +is all the easier to me since I know very little +about these things and am sure only of one thing, +that the judgements of value made by mankind +are immediately determined by their desires for +happiness: in other words, that those judgements +are attempts to prop up their illusions with arguments. +I could understand it very well if anyone +were to point to the inevitable nature of the +process of cultural development and say, for instance, +that the tendency to institute restrictions +upon sexual life or to carry humanitarian ideals +into effect at the cost of natural selection are developmental +trends which it is impossible to avert +or divert, and to which it is best for us to submit +as though they were natural necessities. I know, +too, the objection that can be raised against this: +that tendencies such as these, which are believed +to have insuperable power behind them, have often +in the history of man been thrown aside and replaced +by others. My courage fails me, therefore, +at the thought of rising up as a prophet before my +fellow-men, and I bow to their reproach that I have +no consolation to offer them; for at bottom this is +what they all demand—the frenzied revolutionary +as passionately as the most pious believer.</p> + +<p>The fateful question of the human species seems +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>to me to be whether and to what extent the cultural +process developed in it will succeed in mastering +the derangements of communal life caused by +the human instinct of aggression and self-destruction. +In this connection, perhaps the phase through +which we are at this moment passing deserves +special interest. Men have brought their powers of +subduing the forces of nature to such a pitch that +by using them they could now very easily exterminate +one another to the last man. They know +this—hence arises a great part of their current unrest, +their dejection, their mood of apprehension. +And now it may be expected that the other of the +two ‘heavenly forces’, eternal Eros, will put forth +his strength so as to maintain himself alongside +of his equally immortal adversary.</p> +<br> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_29_29" href="#FNanchor_29_29" class="label">[29]</a> ‘Thus conscience does make cowards of us all....’</p> + +<p>That the upbringing of young people at the present day conceals +from them the part sexuality will play in their lives is not +the only reproach we are obliged to bring against it. It offends +too in not preparing them for the aggressions of which they are +destined to become the objects. Sending the young out into life +with such a false psychological orientation is as if one were to +equip people going on a Polar expedition with summer clothing +and maps of the Italian lakes. One can clearly see that ethical +standards are being misused in a way. The strictness of these +standards would not do much harm if education were to say: +‘This is how men ought to be in order to be happy and make +others happy, but you have to reckon with their not being so.’ Instead +of this the young are made to believe that everyone else conforms +to the standard of ethics, <em>i.e.</em> that everyone else is good. And +then on this is based the demand that the young shall be so too.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_30_30" href="#FNanchor_30_30" class="label">[30]</a> I mean in <cite>The Future of an Illusion</cite>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_31_31" href="#FNanchor_31_31" class="label">[31]</a> <cite>Totem und Tabu</cite> (1912).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_32_32" href="#FNanchor_32_32" class="label">[32]</a> In particular, in contributions by Ernest Jones, Susan +Isaacs, Melanie Klein; also, as I understand, in those of Reik +and Alexander.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter transnote"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> + Transcriber’s Notes + </h2> + +<ul> + <li>pg 138 Changed: the development of the indivudual<br> + <span style="padding-left: 2em">To: the development of the individual</span></li> + +</ul> +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78221 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78221-h/images/cover.jpg b/78221-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b71753b --- /dev/null +++ b/78221-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78221-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/78221-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d974069 --- /dev/null +++ b/78221-h/images/titlepage.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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