I wrote this essay about how being Jewish made Freud freaky. The paper would have been way better if I was allowed to use secondary sources, because there's actually a ton of evidence about Freud hiding his jewishness and all that that could've helped me make my argument but whatever. I wrote it for this history class I'm taking, and it's the first history class I've ever taken. I've kind of lost the ability to write in a fancy and nice sounding way, so the writing in this paper isn't great. But it is fun to write not analytically.
Cora-Louise Fleming-Benite
HIS 369 - Professor Baring
Assignment 1 - due 9/26/2025
Freud, Faith, and Secular Psychoanalysis
Freud is generally considered to be unabashedly disdainful of religion. In Civilization and its Discontents (1930), one of Freud’s later works, he describes religion as infantile and untenable, categorizing it as a mass-delusion belonging to the “common man.” Freud roots his contempt for religion in its negative qualities, but through my analysis I will suggest that his beliefs are more nuanced than we might understand upon first reading. To clarify Freud’s positions on religion, and to better understand the context that informed his perspective, we can turn to Freud’s own religious background, as well as to the parallels between psychoanalysis and faith. This paper ultimately argues that Freud’s outspoken disdain for religion in Civilization and its Discontents is not simply a criticism, but an expression of his own neurotic – to reprise Freud’s own medical language – anxieties about religion.
In Civilization and its Discontents, Freud begins his discussion of religion by reporting on an “oceanic” feeling that many cite to be the source of their religious sentiments. This feeling is described as a sensation of eternity and of limitlessness. The feeling is also associated with a sense of belonging to a larger entity: “it is a feeling of an indissoluble bond, of being one with the external world as a whole.” Despite its subjective nature, this ‘oceanic’ feeling is the source of “religious energy.” Freud, however, rejects this ‘oceanic’ feeling, and denies feeling it in himself. He questions whether it should be the source and origin of religion, as, for him, it does not explain a need or motivation for religious belief.
Freud sees religion as a system of doctrines that serves several purposes for its followers. Firstly, it explains the mysteries of the world, which it does, he notes with irony, with an “enviable completeness”. It also promises a “careful Providence” that will watch over the follower’s life and will compensate the follower in a future existence. Freud explains that for the “common man,” this Providence can only be imagined in the figure of an exalted father. Freud describes religion, and this idea of the father figure, to be “patently infantile” and “foreign to reality.” He critiques the unconditional submission religion requires – and the infantilizing and disjointing effect this submission has. Freud finds it painful and humiliating that such a large majority of people subscribe to religion.
Freud also discusses religion’s role in humanity’s desperation to uncover “the purpose of human life.” He explains that religion has long been regarded as the answer to our question as to the meaning of life. Freud, though, chooses instead to turn to human behavior in uncovering the purpose of human life, locating it in what he calls the “pleasure principle.” Simply put, the pleasure principle drives us to seek out pleasure and avoid displeasure; it is a matter of happiness. Freud describes happiness as the satisfaction of needs. For Freud, the pursuit of it is in fact the “meaning” or purpose of life.
There are many factors that prevent us from fulfilling the programme of the pleasure principle. Our capacity for happiness is limited, in part by our own constitution. We are also limited in our ability to prevent unhappiness, which we are threatened by from three different directions: “from our own body…from the external world…from our relations to other men.” Freud explains that, because of life’s disappointments and pains, we find it to be – put simply – too hard. In order to tolerate life’s difficulties, we cannot do without certain “palliative measures.” These measures essentially change our relationship to our misery in some way: by causing us to make light of it, diminishing it, or making us insensitive to it. For Freud, palliative measures are indispensable. Art and science are examples of such measures. According to Freud, the common man, who cannot deploy science or art to soothe his miseries, turns to religion. Essentially, Freud positions religion as one of these palliative measures, employed by those who lack an ability to appreciate and partake in the so-called “finer and higher” satisfactions in life; in this way, he takes on an attitude of condescension towards religion and its practitioners. Freud concludes that the programme of becoming happy, imposed on us by the pleasure principle, cannot be fulfilled, but that we should still make efforts to move closer to happiness. These efforts can be made in a multitude of ways but our search for happiness should not, according to Freud, be through one single thing. He advises us “not to look for the whole of our satisfaction from a single aspiration.” Freud critiques religion for this reason, as it limits the path to happiness: “religion restricts this play of choice and adaptation, since it imposes equally on everyone its own path to the acquisition of happiness and protection from suffering.” He explains that religion’s method of fulfilling the pleasure principle lies in distorting our picture of the real world and is delusional. This method is limiting, and forces us into a state of “mass delusion” which succeeds only in sparing followers from individual neuroses by replacing them with a mass delusion. Freud further expresses his contempt for religion by asserting that it is not tenable – in that it will not be effective in the long term.
Freud’s disdain for religion presents a logical line of reasoning to support his stance. However, what is more puzzling is produced by an interrogation of his relationship to his own faith. We might wonder: is his recoil at religion truly rooted only in a belief that it is damaging and infantile? In attempting to better understand what informed Freud’s attitudes towards religion in general, we can turn to Freud’s own religious experience. While he came from a Jewish family, Freud himself was certainly an atheist. He distanced himself from his Jewish heritage in many ways, even dropping his middle name, Schlomo, because of its Jewish origins. The explanation for why Freud would have distanced himself from Judaism as much as he did lies in the historical context in which Freud lived. Being Jewish in the Europe of the early 1900s, as Freud was, was not easy. Following the 1873 stock market crash, new forms of mass politics turned on Liberalism, and anti-semitism was on the rise – along with the formation of explicitly anti-semitic political parties, like the Christian Social Party. In 1895, Karl Lueger, an anti-semite and member of the Christian Social Party, won the municipal election. Freud, as a Jewish person of the time, experienced this anti-semitism. In fact, while studying at the University of Vienna, Freud was taken aside by a mentor and told he would not make it through university because of his heritage. It seems plausible, then, that Freud would have had a complicated relationship to his Jewish heritage, and by extension to religion.
Freud’s relationship to religion is further complicated when we examine his psychoanalytic theory. Freud frames his psychoanalytic method as one necessarily rooted in rational inquiry. He emphasizes that the psychoanalytic view is not a speculative system, but one developed empirically, through observation. Despite his apparent disdain for religion, and his insistence on the empirical nature of his work, it seems that Freud’s psychoanalytic view nevertheless operates much like a faith, particularly in that its practice requires belief. In endorsing psychoanalysis, Freud creates a new framework and system for thinking about different parts of the mind. By establishing the existence of the unconscious – upon which the psychoanalytic view rests – Freud is creating what appears to be a pillar, or creed, of faith. If one wants to practice psychoanalysis, one must believe in the unconscious. Furthermore, Freud uses case studies to convince readers of the power of psychoanalysis; these case studies can be likened to the stories found in religious texts, akin to the parables of the bible. His case studies, which may or may not have been based on true stories, operate in a way that is stylistically similar to the stories of a religious text – they reference themselves in the same way that the bible does. Not only does the method in which Freud teaches psychonalaysis show parallels to the way that religious faith is taught, but some of his actual frameworks for understanding the mind are similar to religious ones in their content. His idea, for instance, that we are born with aggressive and sexual tendencies is reminiscent of Christianity’s position that we are born with original sin. Freud’s doctrine, like a religious system, has its own pillars, its own stories, and its own values.
Psychoanalysis, while certainly not a religion, shares with it some qualities. Even if psychoanalysis positions itself as scientific and well reasoned – which it may very well be – both religion and psychoanalysis are belief systems. They might be different types of belief systems, psychoanalysis being a scientific or pseudo-scientific one, the other being a religious one – but they are belief systems nonetheless. There is a reason for which we refer to religion in the shorthand as faith – because we have faith in religious books and in the religious system. This same faith is necessary to the psychoanalytic practice – faith in its case studies and in its frameworks. Even though Freud’s psychoanalytic doctrine uses a different method and is rooted in different stories, faith remains central and necessary; if you want to practice psychoanalysis, you have to believe it, to have faith in it. Perhaps it is not the same sort of blind faith found in some religious cases, but it is still a matter of belief. We might wonder, then, if Freud was quick to criticize a belief system of religion, how Freud’s own system of psychoanalysis could have benefitted from criticism of itself. This potential for criticism, justified by the parallels between psychoanalysis and religion, would have given Freud some hesitancy and, likely, caused him distress. Freud may have had a hidden anxiety about his own methodology, considering that it may be incompatible with his belief that religion is bad.
If we consider then, the fraught nature of Freud’s relationship to religion – complicated by anti-semitism, and the faithfulness required to practice his own discipline – we begin to interrogate his outspoken disdain for religion when we situate it in the collection of Freud’s beliefs. His own religious experience, in terms of his Jewish heritage and in terms of confronting the religious underpinnings of his psychoanalytic system, would have been distressing for Freud. It can thus be argued that Freud’s critiques of religion are not simply related to his favoring of empiricism. I would argue instead that they are expressions of Freud’s own neurotic anxiety.
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