Category Archives: Max Weber

Why the Plausibility of Unbelief?

A question that has haunted me for years is this: why do modern people feel that God is absent from their daily experience of the world and themselves? In much of my reading over the last decades I’ve looked for an answer to this question. I recently read an excellent book that directly addresses this issue: Joseph Minich, Bulwarks of Unbelief: Atheism and Divine Absence in a Secular Age (2023). Minich attempts to explain why, in contrast to premodern people, moderns don’t sense God’s presence in the world. Perhaps I will review this book in the future. It is not an easy read!

In the course of making his argument, Minich quotes a section from Max Weber’s 1917 essay “Science as a Vocation.” In that section, Weber addresses the subject of the difference between how modern people experience nature and their own lives and how premodern people experienced them. He focuses on two experiences: (1) whereas premodern people experienced nature as mysterious and active, we expect everything to be rational and mechanical; (2) whereas premodern people as they approached death after a long life could feel fulfilled and satisfied, many modern people feel like they are missing out on future goods. Death seems arbitrary and meaningless. Listen to the great German sociologist:

Weber on the Disenchantment of Nature

“Scientific progress is … the process of intellectualization which we have been undergoing for thousands of years.

“Let us first clarify what this intellectualist rationalization, created by science and by scientifically oriented technology, means practically. Does it mean that we, today, for instance, everyone sitting in this hall, have a greater knowledge of the conditions of life under which we exist than has an American Indian or a Hottentot? Hardly. Unless he is a physicist, one who rides on the streetcar has no idea how the car happened to get into motion. And he does not need to know. He is satisfied that he may ‘count’ on the behavior of the streetcar, and he orients his conduct according to this expectation … The savage knows what he does in order to get his daily food and which institutions serve him in this pursuit. The increasing intellectualization and rationalization do not, therefore, indicate an increased and general knowledge of the conditions under which one lives. It means something else, namely, the knowledge or belief that if one but wished one could learn it at any time. Hence, it means that principally there are no mysterious incalculable forces that come into play, but rather that one can, in principle, master all things by calculation. This means that the world is disenchanted. One need no longer have recourse to magical means in order to master or implore the spirits, as did the savage, for whom such mysterious powers existed. Technical means and calculations perform the service. This above all is what intellectualization means.

“Now, [concerning] this process of disenchantment, which has continued to exist in Occidental culture for millennia, and, in general, this ‘progress,’ to which science belongs as a link and motive force…do they have any meanings that go beyond the purely practical and technical? You will find this question raised in the most principled form in the works of Leo Tolstoi. He came to raise the question in a peculiar way. All his broodings increasingly revolved around the problem of whether or not death is a meaningful phenomenon. And his answer was: for civilized man death has no meaning. It has none because the individual life of civilized man, placed into an infinite ‘ progress,’ according to its own immanent meaning should never come to an end; for there is always a further step ahead of one who stands in the march of progress. And no man who comes to die stands upon the peak which lies in infinity. Abraham, or some peasant of the past, died ‘ old and satiated with life ‘ because he stood in the organic cycle of life; because his life, in terms of its meaning and on the eve of his days, had given to him what life had to offer; because for him there remained no puzzles he might wish to solve; and therefore he could have had ‘enough’ of life. Whereas civilized man, placed in the midst of the continuous enrichment of culture by ideas, knowledge, and problems, may become ‘tired of life’ but not ‘satiated with life.’ He catches only the most minute part of what the life of the spirit brings forth ever anew, and what he seizes is always something provisional and not definitive, and therefore death for him is a meaningless occurrence. And because death is meaningless, civilized life as such is meaningless; by its very ‘progressiveness’ it gives death the imprint of meaninglessness.

Thoughts on Disenchantment

Concerning the first issue, disenchantment of nature, modern people tend to treat nature as we treat our own technology. Because our creations come from the human mind—even if not my mind—we believe we could understand them if we tried. No human creation is utterly alien and mysterious. We have been seduced by a superficial understanding of natural science into thinking nature is simply a highly complex machine rather than a deep mystery. Given time, we could understand it as clearly as we see through our own creations.

Concerning the second issue, the meaninglessness of death, I get it. Sometimes I feel something like what Abraham may have felt. I have passed through many stages of life already and, as I grow older, I feel content that this life will be enough. At other times, I feel as though I’ve only tasted a little bit of what may come to be in the future after centuries of technological progress. Hence, I feel sadness at my insignificance and therefore meaninglessness.

Perhaps we moderns cannot fully re-enchant nature and recover the magic and glory of nature. But I believe that discovering why we moderns don’t often experience a divine presence in nature and our lives is the first step in the process of recovering our sense of God’s presence. The second step is to return to nature with new eyes viewing it not as a machine but a living work of art and a theater of divine beauty. Others include rediscovering the meaning divine providence and omnipresence and learning to worship.