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]