CHAPTER V

THE POWER OF FEAR

The function of fear is quite clear. Fear is the guardian instinct

of life. The intensity of the struggle for existence and the

preservation of life of the animal are expressed in the instinct of

fear. The fear instinct in its mild form, when connected with what

is strange and unfamiliar, or with what is really dangerous to the

animal, is of the utmost consequence to the life existence of the

animal. What is strange and unfamiliar may be a menace to life, and

it is a protection, if under such conditions the fear instinct is

aroused.

Again, it is of the utmost importance in weak animals, such as

hares or rabbits, to have the fear instinct easily aroused by the

slightest, strange stimulus: the animal is defenseless, and its

refuge, its safety, is in running. The unfamiliar stimulus may be a

signal of danger, and it is safer to get away from it; the animal

cannot take chances.

On the other hand, animals that are too timid, so that even the

familiar becomes too suspicious, cannot get their food, and cannot

leave a progeny,--they become eliminated by the process of natural

selection. There is a certain amount of trust that nature demands

even of its most defenseless and timid children.

Animals in whom the fear instinct can be aroused to a high degree

become paralyzed and perish. Under such conditions the fear

instinct not only ceases to be of protective value, but is the very

one that brings about the destruction of the animal possessed by

it. Intense fear paralyzes the animal.

“One of the most terrible effects of fear,” says Mosso, “is the

paralysis which allows neither of escape nor defense. Not all

the phenomena of fear can be explained on the theory of natural

selection. In their extreme degree they are morbid phenomena,

indicating imperfection of the organism. One might almost say that

nature had not been able to find a substance for brain and spinal

cord which should be extremely sensitive, and yet should never,

under the influence of exceptional or unusual stimuli, exceed in

its reactions those physiological limits which are best adapted to

the preservation of the animal.” Mosso quotes Haller to the effect

that “phenomena of fear common to animals are not aimed at the

preservation of the timid, but at their destruction.”

The fear instinct is no doubt one of the most fundamental and one

of the most vital of animal instincts, but when it rises to an

extreme degree, or when associated with familiar instead of strange

and unfamiliar objects, then we may agree with Haller that the

phenomena are not aimed at the preservation of the animal, but at

its destruction; or, as Darwin puts it, are of “disservice to the

animal.” This is just what is found in the case of psychopathic

or neurotic affections. The fear instinct, when aroused and

cultivated in early childhood, becomes associated in later life

with particular events, objects, and special states.

When the instinct of fear is aroused in connection with some future

impending misfortune, the feeling of apprehension with all its

physiological changes, muscular, respiratory, cardiac, epigastric,

and intestinal, goes to form that complex feeling of anxiety so

highly characteristic of the acute varieties of psychopathic

maladies. When fear reaches its acme, the heart is specially

affected; circulatory and respiratory changes become prominent,

giving rise to that form of oppression which weighs like an incubus

on the patient,--the feeling known as “precordial anxiety.”

The fear instinct is the ultimate cause of functional

psychosis,--it is the soil on which grow luxuriantly the infinite

varieties of psychopathic disturbances. The body, sense, intellect,

and will are all profoundly affected by the irresistible sweep of

the fear instinct, as manifested in the overwhelming feeling of

anxiety. The fear instinct and its offsprings--hesitation, anxiety,

conflicts and repressions--weaken, dissociate, and paralyze the

functions of the body and mind, producing the various symptoms of

psychopathic diseases. The fear instinct keeps on gnawing at the

very vitals of the psychopathic patient.

Even at his best the psychopathic patient is not free from the

workings of the fear instinct, from the feeling of anxiety which,

as the patients themselves put it, “hangs like a cloud on the

margin or fringe of consciousness.” From time to time he can hear

the distant, threatening rumbling of the fear instinct. Even when

the latter is apparently stilled, the pangs of anxiety torment the

patient like a dull toothache.

Montaigne, writing of fear, says, “I am not so good a naturalist

(as they call it) as to discern by what secret springs fear has

its motion in us; but be this as it may, it is a strange passion,

and such a one as the physicians say there is no other whatever

that sooner dethrones our judgment from its proper seat; which is

so true, that I myself have seen very many become frantic through

fear; and even in those of the best settled temper, it is most

certain that it begets a terrible confusion during the fit. Even

among soldiers, a sort of men over whom, of all others, it ought to

have the least power, how often has it converted flocks of sheep

into armed squadrons, reeds and bullrushes into pikes and lances,

and friends into enemies....

“The thing in the world I am most afraid of is fear. That passion

alone, in the trouble of it, exceeding all other accidents. Such

as have been well banged in some skirmish, may yet, all wounded and

bloody as they are, be brought on again the next day to the charge;

but such as have once conceived a good sound fear of the enemy

will never be made so much as to look the enemy in the face. Such

as are in immediate fear of losing their estates, of banishment

or of slavery, live in perpetual anguish, and lose all appetite

and repose. And the many people who, impatient of perpetual alarms

of fear, have hanged or drowned themselves, or dashed themselves

to pieces, give us sufficiently to understand that fear is more

importunate and insupportable than death itself.”

A well known writer, who is a psychopathic sufferer, writes:

“Carlyle laid his finger upon the truth, when he said that the

reason why the pictures of the past were always so golden in tone,

so delicate in outline, was because the quality of fear was taken

from them. It is the fear of what may be and what must be that

overshadows present happiness; and if fear is taken from us, we

are happy. The strange thing is that we can not learn not to be

afraid, even though all the darkest and saddest of our experiences

have left us unscathed; and if we could but find a reason for the

mingling of fear with our lives, we should have gone towards the

solving of the riddle of the world.”

Anxiety states of neuroses and psychoses are essentially clue

to the awakening of the fear instinct, normally present in every

living being. The fear instinct is a fundamental one; it is only

inhibited by the whole course of civilization and by the training

and education of life. Like the jinn of the “Arabian Nights,” it

slumbers in the breast of every normal individual, and comes fully

to life in the various neuroses and psychoses.

Kraepelin and his school lay special stress on the fact that

“Fear is by far the most important persistent emotion in morbid

conditions.... Fear is manifested by anxious excitement and by

anxious tension.” “Experience,” says Kraepelin, “shows an intimate

relationship between insistent psychosis and the so-called

‘phobias,’ the _anxiety states_ which in such patients become

associated with definite impressions, actions, and views.” The

states are associated with the thought of some unknown danger.

Violent heart action, pallor, a feeling of anxiety, tremor, cold

sweat, meteorisms, diarrhœa, polyuria, weakness in the legs,

fainting spells, attack the patient, who may lose control of his

limbs and occasionally suffer complete collapse.

“These states,” says Kraepelin, with his usual insight into

abnormal mental life, “remind one of the feeling of anxiety which

in the case of healthy people may, in view of a painful situation

or of a serious danger, deprive one of the calmness of judgment and

confidence in his movements.”

Thus, we find from different standpoints that the feeling of

anxiety with its accompanying phenomena is one of the most potent

manifestations of animal instincts, the fear instinct, which is at

the basis of all psychopathic, neurotic maladies.

The fear instinct, as the subtle and basic instinct of life, is

well described by Kipling:--

Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade,

And the whisper spreads and widens far and near;

And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now--

He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear!

Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks are ribbed

with light,

When the downward dipping trails are dank and drear,

Comes a breathing hard behind thee--_snuffle_--_snuffle_ through

the night--

It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go:

In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear;

But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy

cheek--

It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered pine

trees fall,

When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer;

Through the war gongs of the thunder rings a voice more loud

than all--

It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless boulders

leap--

Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear;

But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against thy side

Hammers: Fear, O Little Hunter,--This is Fear!

It is interesting to learn what a practical and thoughtful surgeon,

such as George Crile, has to say on the matter of fear. Dr. Crile

lays stress on the facts that in his researches he finds evidence

that the phenomena of fear have a physical basis similar to those

morphological changes in the brain cells observed in certain stages

of surgical shock and in fatigue.... That the brain is definitely

damaged by fear may be proved by experiments.

“According to Sherrington the nervous system responds in action as

a whole, and to but one stimulus at a time.... Under the influence

of fear or (fear of) injury the integration of the common path is

most nearly absolute.... Hence fear and injury (or fear of injury)

drain the cup of energy to the dregs....

“We can understand why it is a patient consumed by fear suffers

so many bodily impairments, (so many functional disturbances)

and diseases even. We can understand the grave digestive and

metabolic disturbances under strain of fear.... We can understand

the variations in the gastric analyses in a timid patient alarmed

over his condition and afraid of the hospital. The patient is

integrated by fear, and since fear takes precedence over all other

impulses, no organ can function normally (under the influence of

fear)” ... Dr. Crile arrives at the conclusion that “Fear dominates

the various organs and parts of the body....”

Dr. Crile lays special stress on the pathological character of the

fear instinct: “That the brain is definitely influenced, damaged

even, by fear has been proved by the following experiments: Rabbits

were frightened by a dog, but were neither injured nor chased.

After various periods of time the animals were killed and their

brain cells compared with the brain cells of normal animals,

wide-spread changes were seen (in the brain cells of the animals

affected by fear). The principal clinical phenomena expressed by

the rabbits were rapid heart, accelerated respiration, prostration,

tremors, and a rise in temperature. The dog showed similar

phenomena, excepting that, instead of such muscular relaxation as

was shown by the rabbit, it exhibited aggressive muscular action.”

Animals in which the fear instinct can be aroused to a high degree

become paralyzed and perish. The animal mechanism is by no means

perfect. A stab in the heart, a rip in the abdomen, a cut of the

carotids, a prick in the medulla, a scratch of a needle infected

with anthrax, or tetanus bacilli, a drop of hydrocyanic acid, an

arrow tipped with curare, extinguish every spark of life. Organic

material may be delicate and complex, but for that reason it is

highly imperfect and vulnerable.

Living matter is the feeblest material in nature, and is as fragile

as a delicate crystal vase. Protoplasm, or living matter, may be

wonderful material, but it can be crushed with a pebble. The most

beautiful colors may be displayed by a thin, delicate bubble, but

it bursts at the least touch. Living matter is like a bubble, like

foam on the ocean. Perhaps no better material is available for the

functions of life.

Meanwhile it remains true that the flimsiness of living material

makes it easily subject to decay and destruction. It is a profound

error, having its root in prejudice, that nature always helps, and

that the processes going on in the organism are always of benefit

to the individual. Nature is as ready to destroy life as to protect

it.

Preservation or destruction of a particular individual depends

on the fact as to whether or no normal or pathological processes

predominate in the total economy of the organism. This holds true

of the fear instinct. The fear instinct is a delicate mechanism,

and when its action is slightly intensified, the animal is on the

way to destruction. For the cosmic forces are careless of the

creatures which keep on pouring forth in generous profusion from

the lap of nature.

Living matter, or protoplasm can only exist under special,

restricted conditions,--the least variation means death. The more

complicated, and more organized protoplasm is, the more restricted

are the conditions of its existence. A rise of a couple of degrees

of temperature or a fall means disease and death. The same holds

true of the rise and fall of quantity and quality of bodily

secretion of glands and of other organs. Protoplasm can only exist

in an _optimum_ environment. Any change spells disease and death.

The fear instinct, being at the heart of highly organized life

activities, is delicately responsive to any changes and variations

from the _optimum_, requisite for the proper functioning of the

organism. Any deviation from the _optimum_ environment, external or

internal, produces corresponding changes in the fear instinct with

consequent pathological changes in the organism.

The fear instinct like a delicate indicator is the first to get

deranged, with harmful results to the organism as a whole. We can

thus realize the importance of keeping the fear instinct in good

condition. We can understand the significance of Plato’s doctrine

of rational guidance of the fear instinct. “What to fear and what

not to fear” is at the basis of all organized life, individual and

social.[3]

FOOTNOTE:

[3] See my work “The Source and Aim of Human Progress.”

Nervous ills, their cause and cure · 第 5 / 37 章