ERICH FROMM
1900 - 1980
Dr. C. George Boeree
Biography
Erich Fromm was born in 1900 in Frankfurt, Germany. His father was a
business man and, according to Erich, rather moody. His mother was
frequently
depressed. In other words, like quite a few of the people we've looked
at, his childhood wasn't very happy.
Like Jung, Erich came from a very religious family, in his case
orthodox
Jews. Fromm himself later became what he called an atheistic mystic.
In his autobiography,
Beyond the Chains of Illusion,
Fromm
talks about two events in his early adolescence that started him along
his path. The first involved a friend of the family's:
Maybe she was 25 years of age; she was beautiful, attractive, and in
addition a painter, the first painter I ever knew. I remember having
heard
that she had been engaged but after some time had broken the
engagement;
I remember that she was almost invariably in the company of her widowed
father. As I remember him, he was an old, uninteresting, and rather
unattractive
man, or so I thought (maybe my judgment was somewhat biased by
jealousy).
Then one day I heard the shocking news: her father had died, and
immediately
afterwards, she had killed herself and left a will which stipulated
that
she wanted to be buried with her father. (p. 4)
As you can imagine, this news hit the 12 year old Erich hard, and he
found
himself asking what many of us might ask: why? Later, he began finding
some answers -- partial ones, admittedly -- in Freud.
The second event was even larger: World War I. At the tender age of
14, he saw the extremes that
nationalism
could go to. All around him, he heard the message: We (Germans, or more
precisely, Christian Germans) are great; They (the English and their
allies)
are cheap mercenaries. The hatred, the "war hysteria," frightened him,
as well it should.
So again he wanted to understand something irrational -- the
irrationality
of mass behavior -- and he found some answers, this time in the
writings
of Karl Marx.
To finish Fromm's story, he received his PhD from Heidelberg in 1922
and began a career as a psychotherapist. He moved to the U.S. in 1934
--
a popular time for leaving Germany! -- and settled in New York City,
where
he met many of the other great refugee thinkers that gathered there,
including
Karen Horney, with whom he had an affair.
Toward the end of his career, he moved to Mexico City to teach. He
had
done considerable research into the relationship between economic class
and personality types there. He died in 1980 in Switzerland.
Theory
As his biography suggests, Fromm's theory is a rather unique blend
of
Freud and Marx. Freud, of course, emphasized the unconscious,
biological
drives, repression, and so on. In other words, Freud postulated that
our
characters were determined by biology. Marx, on the other hand, saw
people
as determined by their society, and most especially by their economic
systems.
He added to this mix of two deterministic systems something quite
foreign
to them: The idea of
freedom. He allows people to
transcend
the determinisms that Freud and Marx attribute to them. In fact, Fromm
makes freedom the central characteristic of human nature!
There are, Fromm points out, examples where determinism alone
operates.
A good example of nearly pure biological determinism, ala Freud, is
animals
(at least simple ones). Animals don't worry about freedom -- their
instincts
take care of everything. Woodchucks, for example, don't need career
counseling
to decide what they are going to be when they grow up: They are going
to
be woodchucks!
A good example of socioeconomic determinism, ala Marx, is the
traditional
society of the Middle Ages. Just like woodchucks, few people in the
Middle
Ages needed career counseling: They had fate, the Great Chain of Being,
to tell them what to do. Basically, if your father was a peasant, you'd
be a peasant. If your father was a king, that's what you'd become. And
if you were a woman, well, there was only one role for women.
Today, we might look at life in the Middle Ages, or life as an
animal,
and cringe. But the fact is that the lack of freedom represented by
biological
or social determinism is easy. Your life has structure, meaning, there
are no doubts, no cause for soul-searching, you fit in and never
suffered
an identity crisis.
Historically speaking, this simple, if hard, life began to get
shaken
up with the Renaissance. In the Renaissance, people started to see
humanity
as the center of the universe, instead of God. In other words, we
didn't
just look to the church (and other traditional establishments) for the
path we were to take. Then came the Reformation, which introduced the
idea
of each of us being individually responsible for our own soul's
salvation.
And then came democratic revolutions such as the American and the
French
revolutions. Now all of a sudden we were supposed to govern ourselves!
And then came the industrial revolution, and instead of tilling the
soil
or making things with our hands, we had to sell our labor in exchange
for
money. All of a sudden, we became employees and consumers! Then came
socialist
revolutions such as the Russian and the Chinese, which introduced the
idea
of participatory economics. You were no longer responsible only for
your
own well-being, but for fellow workers as well!
So, over a mere 500 years, the idea of the individual, with
individual
thoughts, feelings, moral conscience, freedom, and responsibility, came
into being. but with individuality came isolation, alienation, and
bewilderment.
Freedom is a difficult thing to have, and when we can we tend to flee
from
it.
Fromm describes three ways in which we
escape from freedom:
1.
Authoritarianism. We seek to avoid freedom by fusing
ourselves
with others, by becoming a part of an authoritarian system like the
society
of the Middle Ages. There are two ways to approach this. One is to
submit
to the power of others, becoming passive and compliant. The other is to
become an authority yourself, a person who applies structure to others.
Either way, you escape your separate identity.
Fromm referred to the extreme version of authoritarianism as
masochism
and
sadism,
and points out that both feel compelled to play their separate roles,
so
that even the sadist, with all his apparent power over the masochist,
is
not free to choose his actions. But milder versions of authoritarianism
are everywhere. In many classes, for example, there is an implicit
contract
between students and professors: Students demand structure, and the
professor
sticks to his notes. It seems innocuous and even natural, but this way
the students avoid taking any responsibility for their learning, and
the
professor can avoid taking on the real issues of his field.
2.
Destructiveness. Authoritarians respond to a painful
existence
by, in a sense, eliminating themselves: If there is no me, how can
anything
hurt me? But others respond to pain by striking out against the world:
If I destroy the world, how can it hurt me? It is this escape from
freedom
that accounts for much of the indiscriminate nastiness of life --
brutality,
vandalism, humiliation, vandalism, crime, terrorism....
Fromm adds that, if a person's desire to destroy is blocked by
circumstances,
he or she may redirect it inward. The most obvious kind of
self-destructiveness
is, of course, suicide. But we can also include many illnesses, drug
addiction,
alcoholism, even the joys of passive entertainment. He turns Freud's
death
instinct upside down: Self-destructiveness is frustrated
destructiveness,
not the other way around.
3.
Automaton conformity. Authoritarians escape by hiding
within
an authoritarian hierarchy. But our society emphasizes equality! There
is less hierarchy to hide in (though plenty remains for anyone who
wants
it, and some who don't). When we need to hide, we hide in our mass
culture
instead. When I get dressed in the morning, there are so many
decisions!
But I only need to look at what you are wearing, and my frustrations
disappear.
Or I can look at the television, which, like a horoscope, will tell me
quickly and effectively what to do. If I look like, talk like, think
like,
feel like... everyone else in my society, then I disappear into the
crowd,
and I don't need to acknowledge my freedom or take responsibility. It
is
the horizontal counterpart to authoritarianism.
The person who uses automaton conformity is like a social chameleon:
He takes on the coloring of his surroundings. Since he looks like a
million
other people, he no longer feels alone. He isn't alone, perhaps, but
he's
not himself either. The automaton conformist experiences a split
between
his genuine feelings and the colors he shows the world, very much along
the lines of Horney's theory.
In fact, since humanity's "true nature" is freedom, any of these
escapes
from freedom alienates us from ourselves. Here's what Fromm had to say:
Man is born as a freak of nature, being within nature and yet
transcending
it. He has to find principles of action and decision making which
replace
the principles of instincts. he has to have a frame of orientation
which
permits him to organize a consistent picture of the world as a
condition
for consistent actions. He has to fight not only against the dangers of
dying, starving, and being hurt, but also against another anger which
is
specifically human: that of becoming insane. In other words, he has to
protect himself not only against the danger of losing his life but also
against the danger of losing his mind. (Fromm, 1968, p. 61)
I should add here that freedom is in fact a complex idea, and that
Fromm
is talking about "true" personal freedom, rather than just political
freedom
(often called liberty): Most of us, whether they are free or not,
tend to like the idea of political freedom, because it means that we
can
do what we want. A good example is the sexual sadist (or
masochist)
who has a psychological problem that drives his behavior. He is
not
free in the personal sense, but he will welcome the politically free
society
that says that what consenting adults do among themselves is not the
state's
business! Another example involves most of us today: We may
well fight for freedom (of the political sort), and yet when we have
it,
we tend to be conformist and often rather irresponsible. We have
the vote, but we fail to use it! Fromm is very much for political
freedom -- but he is especially eager that we make use of that freedom
and take the responsibility that goes with it.
Families
Which of the escapes from freedom you tend to use has a great deal
to
do with what kind of family you grew up in. Fromm outlines two kinds of
unproductive families.
1.
Symbiotic families. Symbiosis is the relationship two
organisms
have who cannot live without each other. In a symbiotic family, some
members
of the family are "swallowed up" by other members, so that they do not
fully develop personalities of their own. The more obvious example is
the
case where the parent "swallows" the child, so that the child's
personality
is merely a reflection of the parent's wishes. In many traditional
societies,
this is the case with many children, especially girls.
The other example is the case where the child "swallows" the parent.
In this case, the child dominates or manipulates the parent, who exists
essentially to serve the child. If this sounds odd, let me assure you
it
is common, especially in traditional societies, especially in the
relationship
between a boy and his mother. Within the context of the particular
culture,
it is even necessary: How else does a boy learn the art of authority he
will need to survive as an adult?
In reality, nearly everyone in a traditional society learns both how
to dominate and how to be submissive, since nearly everyone has someone
above them and below them in the social hierarchy. Obviously, the
authoritarian
escape from freedom is built-in to such a society. But note that, for
all
that it may offend our modern standards of equality, this is the way
people
lived for thousands of years. It is a very stable social system, it
allows
for a great deal of love and friendship, and billions of people live in
it still.
2.
Withdrawing families. In fact, the main alternative is
most
notable for its cool indifference, if not cold hatefulness. Although
withdrawal
as a family style has always been around, it has come to dominate some
societies only in the last few hundred years, that is, since the
bourgeoisie
-- the merchant class -- arrive on the scene in force.
The "cold" version is the older of the two, found in northern Europe
and parts of Asia, and wherever merchants are a formidable class.
Parents
are very demanding of their children, who are expected to live up to
high,
well-defined standards. Punishment is not a matter of a slap upside the
head in full anger and in the middle of dinner; it is instead a formal
affair, a full-fledged ritual, possibly involving cutting switches and
meeting in the woodshed. Punishment is cold-blooded, done "for your own
good." Alternatively, a culture may use guilt and withdrawal of
affection
as punishment. Either way, children in these cultures become rather
strongly
driven to succeed in whatever their culture defines as success.
This puritanical style of family encourages the destructive escape
from
freedom, which is internalized until circumstances (such as war) allow
its release. I might add that this kind of family more immediately
encourages
perfectionism -- living by the rules -- which is also a way of avoiding
freedom that Fromm does not discuss. When the rules are more important
than people, destructiveness is inevitable.
The second withdrawing kind of family is the modern family, found in
the most advanced parts of the world, most notably the USA. Changes in
attitudes about child rearing have lead many people to shudder at the
use
of physical punishment and guilt in raising children. The newer idea is
to raise your children as your equals. A father should be a boy's best
buddy; a mother should be a daughter's soul mate. But, in the process
of
controlling their emotions, the parents become coolly indifferent. They
are, in fact, no longer really parents, just cohabitants with their
children.
The children, now without any real adult guidance, turn to their peers
and to the media for their values. This is the modern, shallow,
television
family!
The escape from freedom is particularly obvious here: It is
automaton
conformity. Although this is still very much a minority family in the
world
(except, of course, on TV!), this is the one Fromm worries about the
most.
It seems to portent the future.
What makes up a good, healthy, productive family? Fromm suggests it
is a family where parents take the responsibility to teach their
children
reason in an atmosphere of love. Growing up in this sort of family,
children
learn to acknowledge their freedom and to take responsibility for
themselves,
and ultimately for society as a whole.
The social unconscious
But our families mostly just reflect our society and culture. Fromm
emphasizes that we soak up our society with our mother's milk. It is so
close to us that we usually forget that our society is just one of an
infinite
number of ways of dealing with the issues of life. We often think that
our way of doing things is the only way, the natural way. We have
learned
so well that it has all become unconscious -- the social unconscious,
to
be precise. So, many times we believe that we are acting according to
our
own free will, but we are only following orders we are so used to we no
longer notice them.
Fromm believes that our social unconscious is
best
understood by examining our economic systems. In fact, he defines, and
even names, five personality types, which he calls orientations, in
economic
terms! If you like, you can take a personality test made up of
lists
of adjectives Fromm used to describe his orientations.
Click
here to see it!
1.
The receptive orientation. These are people who expect to
get what they need. if they don't get it immediately, they wait for it.
They believe that all goods and satisfactions come from outside
themselves.
This type is most common among peasant populations. It is also found in
cultures that have particularly abundant natural resources, so that one
need not work hard for one's sustenance (although nature may also
suddenly
withdraw its bounty!). it is also found at the very bottom of any
society:
Slaves, serfs, welfare families, migrant workers... all are at the
mercy
of others.
This orientation is associated with symbiotic families, especially
where
children are "swallowed" by parents, and with the masochistic (passive)
form of authoritarianism. It is similar to Freud's oral passive,
Adler's
leaning-getting, and Horney's compliant personality. In its extreme
form,
it can be characterized by adjectives such as submissive and wishful.
In
a more moderate form, adjectives such as accepting and optimistic are
more
descriptive.
2.
The exploitative orientation. These people expect to have
to take what they need. In fact, things increase in value to the extent
that they are taken from others: Wealth is preferably stolen, ideas
plagiarized,
love achieved by coercion. This type is prevalent among history's
aristocracies,
and in the upper classes of colonial empires. Think of the English in
India
for example: Their position was based entirely on their power to take
from
the indigenous population. Among their characteristic qualities is the
ability to be comfortable ordering others around! We can also see it in
pastoral barbarians and populations who rely on raiding (such as the
Vikings).
The exploitative orientation is associated with the "swallowing"
side
of the symbiotic family, and with the masochistic style of
authoritarianism.
They are Freud's oral aggressive, Adler's ruling-dominant, and Horney's
aggressive types. In extremes, they are aggressive, conceited, and
seducing.
Mixed with healthier qualities, they are assertive, proud, captivating.
3. The
hoarding orientation. hoarding people expect to keep.
They see the world as possessions and potential possessions. Even loved
ones are things to possess, to keep, or to buy. Fromm, drawing on Karl
Marx, relates this type to the bourgeoisie, the merchant middle class,
as well as richer peasants and crafts people. He associates it
particularly
with the Protestant work ethic and such groups as our own Puritans.
Hoarding is associated with the cold form of withdrawing family, and
with destructiveness. I might add that there is a clear connection with
perfectionism as well. Freud would call it the anal retentive type,
Adler
(to some extent) the avoiding type, and Horney (a little more clearly)
the withdrawing type. In its pure form, it means you are stubborn,
stingy,
and unimaginative. If you are a milder version of hoarding, you might
be
steadfast, economical, and practical.
4.
The marketing orientation. The marketing orientation
expects
to sell. Success is a matter of how well I can sell myself, package
myself,
advertise myself. My family, my schooling, my jobs, my clothes -- all
are
an advertisement, and must be "right." Even love is thought of as a
transaction.
Only the marketing orientation thinks up the marriage contract, wherein
we agree that I shall provide such and such, and you in return shall
provide
this and that. If one of us fails to hold up our end of the
arrangement,
the marriage is null and void -- no hard feelings (perhaps we can still
be best of friends!) This, according to Fromm, is the orientation of
the
modern industrial society. This is our orientation!
This modern type comes out of the cool withdrawing family, and tend
to use automaton conformity as its escape from freedom. Adler and
Horney
don't have an equivalent, but Freud might: This is at least half of the
vague phallic personality, the type that lives life as flirtation. In
extreme,
the marketing person is opportunistic, childish, tactless. Less
extreme,
and he or she is purposeful, youthful, social. Notice today's values as
expressed to us by our mass media: Fashion, fitness, eternal youth,
adventure,
daring, novelty, sexuality... these are the concerns of the "yuppie,"
and
his or her less-wealthy admirers. The surface is everything! Let's go
bungee-jumping!
5.
The productive orientation. There is a healthy
personality
as well, which Fromm occasionally refers to as the person without a
mask.
This is the person who, without disavowing his or her biological and
social
nature, nevertheless does not shirk away from freedom and
responsibility.
This person comes out of a family that loves without overwhelming the
individual,
that prefers reason to rules, and freedom to conformity.
The society that gives rise to the productive type (on more than a
chance
basis) doesn't exist yet, according to Fromm. He does, of course, have
some ideas about what it will be like. He calls it
humanistic
communitarian
socialism. That's quite a mouthful, and made up of words that
aren't
exactly popular in the USA, but let me explain: Humanistic means
oriented
towards human beings, and not towards some higher entity -- not the
all-powerful
State nor someone's conception of God. Communitarian means composed of
small communities (
Gemeinschaften, in German), as opposed to big
government or corporations. Socialism means everyone is responsible for
the welfare of everyone else. Thus understood, it's hard to argue with
Fromm's idealism!
Fromm says that the first four orientations (which others might call
neurotic) are living in
the having mode. They focus on
consuming,
obtaining, possessing.... They are defined by what they have. Fromm
says
that "I have it" tends to become "it has me," and we become driven by
our
possessions!
The productive orientation , on the other hand, lives in
the
being
mode. What you are is defined by your actions in this world. You
live
without a mask, experiencing life, relating to people, being yourself.
He says that most people, being so used to the having mode, use the
word have to describe their problems: "Doctor, I have a problem: I have
insomnia. Although I have a beautiful home, wonderful children, and a
happy
marriage, I have many worries." He is looking to the therapist to
remove
the bad things, and let him keep the good ones, a little like asking a
surgeon to take out your gall bladder. What you should be saying is
more
like "I am troubled. I am happily married, yet I cannot sleep...." By
saying
you have a problem, you are avoiding facing the fact that you are the
problem
-- i.e. you avoid, once again, taking responsibility for your life.
| Orientation |
Society |
Family |
Escape from Freedom |
| Receptive |
Peasant society |
Symbiotic (passive) |
Authoritarian (masochistic) |
| Exploitative |
Aristocratic society |
Symbiotic (active) |
Authoritarian (sadistic) |
| Hoarding |
Bourgeois society |
Withdrawing (puritanical) |
Perfectionist to destructive |
| Marketing |
Modern society |
Withdrawing (infantile) |
Automaton conformist |
| Productive |
Humanistic communitarian
socialism |
Loving and reasoning |
Freedom and responsibility acknowledged and accepted |
Evil
Fromm was always interested in trying to understand the really evil
people of this world -- not just one's who were confused or mislead or
stupid or sick, but the one's who, with full consciousness of the evil
of their acts, performed them anyway: Hitler, Stalin, Charles Manson,
Jim
Jones, and so on, large and small.
All the orientations we've talked about, productive and
non-productive,
in the having mode or the being mode, have one thing in common: They
are
all efforts at life. Like Horney, Fromm believed that even the most
miserable
neurotic is at the least trying to cope with life. They are, to use his
word,
biophilous, life-loving.
But there is another type of person he calls
necrophilous --
the lovers of death. They have the passionate attraction to all that is
dead, decayed, putrid, sickly; it is the passion to transform that
which
is alive into something unalive; to destroy for the sake of
destruction;
the exclusive interest in all that is purely mechanical. It is the
passion
"to tear apart living structures."
If you think back to high school, you may remember a few misfits:
They
were real horror movie aficionados. They may have made models of
torture
devices and guillotines. They loved to play war games. They liked to
blow
things up with their chemistry sets. They got a kick out of torturing
small
animals. They treasured their guns. They were really into mechanical
devices.
The more sophisticated the technology, the happier they were. Beavis
and
Butthead are modeled after these kids.
I remember watching an interview on TV once, back during the little
war in Nicaragua. There were plenty of American mercenaries among the
Contras,
and one in particular had caught the reporters eye. He was a munitions
expert -- someone who blew up bridges, buildings, and, of course, the
occasional
enemy soldier. When asked how he got into this line of work, he smiled
and told the reporter that he might not like the story. You see, when
he
was a kid, he liked to put firecrackers up the backside of little birds
he had caught, light the fuses, let them go, and watch them blow up.
This
man was a necrophiliac.
Fromm makes a few guesses as to how such a person happens. He
suggested
that there may be some genetic flaw that prevents them from feeling or
responding to affection. It may also be a matter of a life so full of
frustration
that the person spends the rest of their life in a rage. And finally,
he
suggests that it may be a matter of growing up with a necrophilous
mother,
so that the child has no one to learn love from. It is very possible
that
some combination of these factors is at work. And yet there is still
the
idea that these people know what they are doing, are conscious of their
evil, and choose it. It is a subject that would bear more study!
|
Biophilous
|
Necrophilous
|
| Having Mode |
Receptive
Exploitative
Hoarding
Marketing |
| Being Mode |
Productive |
Human Needs
Erich Fromm, like many others, believed that we have needs that go far
beyond the basic, physiological ones that some people, like Freud and
many behaviorists, think explain all of our behavior. He calls
these
human needs, in contrast to the more basic
animal
needs. And he suggests that the human needs can be expressed
in one simple statement: The human being needs
to find an
answer to his existence.
Fromm says that helping us to answer this question is perhaps the major
purpose of culture. In a way, he says, all cultures are like
religions, trying to explain the meaning of life. Some, of
course, do so
better than others.
A more negative way of expressing this need is to say that we need
to
avoid insanity, and he defines neurosis as an effort to satisfy the
need for answers that doesn't work for us. He says that every
neurosis is a sort of private religion, one we turn to when our culture
no longer satisfies.
He lists five human needs:
1. Relatedness
As human beings, we are aware of our separateness from each other, and
seek to overcome it. Fromm calls this our need for relatedness,
and views it as love in the broadest sense. Love, he says, "is
union with somebody, or something, outside oneself, under the condition
of retaining the separateness and integrity of one's own self." (p 37
of The Sane Society). It allows us to
transcend our
separateness without denying us our uniqueness.
The need is so powerful that sometimes we seek it in unhealthy
ways. For example, some seek to eliminate their isolation by
submitting themselves to another person, to a group, or to their
conception of a God. Others look to eliminate their isolation by
dominating others. Either way, these are not satisfying:
Your separateness is not overcome.
Another way some attempt to overcome this need is by denying it.
The opposite of relatedness is what Fromm calls
narcissism.
Narcissism -- the love of self -- is natural in infants, in that they
don't perceive themselves as separate from the world and others to
begin with. But in adults, it is a source of pathology.
Like the schizophrenic, the narcissist has only one reality: the
world of his own thoughts, feelings, and needs. His world becomes
what he wants it to be, and he loses contact with reality.
2. Creativity
Fromm believes that we all desire to overcome, to
transcend,
another fact of our being: Our sense of being passive
creatures. We want to be creators. There are many ways to
be creative: We give birth, we plant seeds, we make pots, we paint
pictures, we write books, we love each other. Creativity is, in
fact, an expression of love
Unfortunately, some don't find an avenue for creativity.
Frustrated, they attempt to transcend their passivity by becoming
destroyers
instead. Destroying puts me "above" the things -- or people -- I
destroy. It makes me feel powerful. We can hate as well as
love. But in the end, it fails to bring us that sense of
transcendence we need.
3. Rootedness
We also need roots. We need to feel at home in the universe, even
though, as human beings, we are somewhat alienated from the natural
world.
The simplest version is to maintain our ties to our mothers. But
to grow up means we have to leave the warmth of our mothers'
love. To stay would be what Fromm calls a kind of psychological
incest.
In order to manage in the difficult world of adulthood, we need to find
new, boader roots. We need to discover our
brotherhood
(and sisterhood) with humanity.
This, too has its pathological side: For example, the
schhizophrenic tries to retreat into a womb-like existence, one where,
you might say, the umbilical cord has never been cut. There is
also the neurotic who is afraid to leave his home, even to get the
mail. And there's the fanatic who sees his tribe, his country,
his church... as the only good one, the only real one. Everyone
else is a dangerous outsider, to be avoided or even destroyed.
4. A sense of identity
"Man may be defined as the animal that can say 'I.'" (p 62 of The Sane
Society) Fromm believes that we need to have a sense of identity,
of
individuality, in order to stay sane.
This need is so powerful that we are sometimes driven to find it, for
example by doing anything for signs of status, or by trying desperately
to
conform. We sometimes will even give up our lives in
order to remain a part of our group. But this is only pretend
identity, an identity we take from others, instead of one we develop
ourselves, and it fails to satisfy our need.
5. A frame of orientation
Finally, we need to understand the world and our place in it.
Again, our society -- and especially the religious aspects of our
culture -- often attempts to provide us with this understanding.
Things like our myths, our philosophies, and our sciences provide us
with structure.
Fromm says this is really two needs: First, we need a frame of
orientation -- almost anything will do. Even a bad one is better
than none! And so people are generally quite gullible. We
want to believe, sometimes even desperately. If we don't have an
explanation handy, we will make one up, via
rationalization.
The second aspect is that we want to have a good frame of orientation,
one that is useful, accurate. This is where
reason comes
in. It is nice that our parents and others provide us with
explanations for the world and our lives, but if they don't hold up,
what good are they? A frame of orientation needs to be rational.
Fromm adds one more thing: He says we don't just want a cold
philosophy or material science. We want a frame of orientation
that provides us with meaning. We want understanding, but we want
a
warm, human understanding.
