
Humanity's greatest invention wasn't the wheel or writing - it was the ability to believe in shared stories. Among those, religious and ideological "superhuman" stories - those that posit forces or entities beyond the individual - are the most potent and enduring, addressing fundamental human needs for meaning, purpose, and belonging.
Religion emerged as humanity's first large-scale operating system for cooperation, though one with fascinating features and often-dangerous flaws. It simultaneously acted as social superglue and solvent, binding some groups together while dissolving others, driving both breakthrough innovations and steadfast resistance to change. Understanding this complex interplay is crucial, not just for historians, but for anyone seeking to grasp our species' future - a future that, contrary to secular predictions, may be more religious than you think, though not in the way you might expect.
The Primal Spark: Seeking Meaning in the Unknown
Early humans found themselves in a peculiar predicament: intelligent enough to recognize patterns in nature, yet unable to explain them. Their solution was rather ingenious: if you can't explain something, attribute it to someone. Enter religion - a revolutionary cognitive technology that turned incomprehensible natural phenomena into relatable personal dramas, featuring moody mountain spirits, grumpy ancestors, and a whole pantheon of beings responsible for everything from thunder to yesterday's failed hunt.
This 'someone hypothesis,' while appearing naive to modern eyes, represented a breakthrough in human thinking. This wasn't just primitive superstition - it was an evolutionary advantage. By developing shared myths and comforting narratives in a world brimming with uncertainty, Homo sapiens gained the unique ability to cooperate flexibly in large numbers. Ancestor worship, one of the earliest forms of religion, offered existential comfort and strengthened social bonds. "You're not really gone," it whispered, "you're just watching from the sidelines, judging our every move." Think of it as humanity's first social network, connecting the living and the dead in an eternal conversation.

One of the most enduring symbols of this early quest for meaning was the sacred fire. Believed to possess divine power, the fire was kept burning constantly within the hearth, a symbol of continuity and the enduring presence of the ancestors. In ancient Rome, the Vestal Virgins, a group of young women tending the sacred flame of Vesta, enjoyed a social status that would make any modern influencer green with envy. In ancient Greece as well as in Rome, families kept sacred fires burning in their homes—a direct line to their ancestors and the gods. (1) The eternal flame concept proved so compelling that it survives today in religious and secular contexts, from church candles to war memorials.
Scaling Human Cooperation: From Tribes to Empires

Religion transcended individual psychology to become history's first scalable operating system for human cooperation. It enabled cooperation among thousands, then millions of complete strangers. This revolutionary capacity for large-scale coordination would transform human society forever.
The mechanics of this social scaling proved remarkably efficient. Shared beliefs created a common moral universe, while collective rituals reinforced group bonds through synchronized activities. When thousands of ancient Egyptians gathered to celebrate the festival of Opet, or when medieval Europeans embarked on pilgrimages to Santiago de Compostela, they weren't just performing religious duties—they were participating in massive social synchronization events that created networks of trust and shared experiences. Divine laws, like the code of Hammurabi in Babylon, further enhanced social order and cooperation at unprecedented scales.
Religious institutions also served as civilization's first complex organizations. Temples in ancient Mesopotamia functioned as banks, granaries, schools, and administrative centers.
By 3000 BCE, the temples of Uruk were managing large agricultural surpluses, administering justice, and coordinating large-scale construction projects, all through the innovative use of religious authority as administrative power. The gods, it turns out, made excellent bureaucrats.
The Sword of Division: When Faith Turns Violent
Religion's power to unite came with a lethal edge. The same beliefs that bound communities together often served to separate them from others. While polytheistic religions generally showed remarkable flexibility—happy to add new gods to their pantheon—monotheistic faiths proved far less accommodating. Monotheism, by its very nature, fostered a sense of exclusivity, often leading to conflict. The concept of "one true faith" inherently positioned other beliefs as false or heretical, creating an ideological framework that has all too often been used to justify persecution and violence.

This tendency toward exclusivity reached a bloody apex in medieval Europe, where religious
differences frequently sparked widespread violence. The Crusades, with their brutal sieges and massacres, saw Pope Urban II promise absolution for those who took up arms against "infidels." The Protestant Reformation unleashed over a century of religious warfare, culminating in the devastating Thirty Years' War that killed a staggering 20% of Europe's population, a death rate four times higher than World War I and the Spanish Flu combined. (3) The Spanish Inquisition institutionalized religious persecution, targeting Jews and Muslims, Christian converts suspected of secretly practicing their former faiths, as well as anyone suspected of deviating from orthodoxy.
Religious intolerance manifested in subtler and insidious ways as well. Communities enforced strict social boundaries through marriage restrictions, segregated living quarters, and discriminatory economic practices. Jews throughout medieval Europe were confined to specific professions and often forced to live in ghettos. Muslims under Christian rule faced increasing restrictions on their worship practices, dress, and social status. Within Christianity, different sects faced persecution—the Cathars in southern France were virtually exterminated, while the Waldensians endured centuries of oppression.
Yet even here, reality proved more complex. The Medieval Spanish Convivencia period, with its relatively peaceful coexistence between Christians, Muslims, and Jews, and the Islamic Golden Age, a period of remarkable intellectual and cultural flourishing that preserved and built upon the knowledge of the classical world largely forgotten by Europe, offer valuable counterpoints to the more prevalent narratives of religious conflict. In trading cities like Venice, economic considerations proved a powerful antidote to religious intolerance, forcing pragmatic rulers to prioritize commercial interests over theological purity. However, these periods of interfaith cooperation often existed on the margins of a broader historical landscape characterized by religious intolerance and violence.
The Axial Age: A Global Enlightenment

Between 800 BCE and 200 BCE, humanity experienced what philosopher Karl Jaspers termed the Axial Age, a period marked by the emergence of world religions and transformative philosophical systems. As if a mysterious cosmic broadcaster had beamed the same set of existential questions to every corner of the globe. From China to Greece, people started asking the big questions about existence, though their answers varied considerably - proof that even in matters of ultimate truth, local customization matters.
In China, Confucianism and Daoism offered ethical and spiritual frameworks. In India, Hinduism and Buddhism redefined the relationship between the individual and the cosmos. The Middle East saw the rise of monotheistic traditions like Judaism and Zoroastrianism, while Greece witnessed the birth of rational philosophy.
These movements shared surprising commonalities: emphasis on individual spiritual development, skepticism toward traditional ritual sacrifice, and concern with universal ethics rather than merely tribal loyalty. These profound spiritual and philosophical awakenings were not mere coincidences, but rather a reflection of a deeper evolutionary process unfolding within the human mind. This suggests that human societies had reached a similar stage of complexity requiring new social technologies to manage their growing scale and sophistication.
Most crucially, religious institutions facilitated the establishment of ethical frameworks that could govern large populations. The Ten Commandments in Judaism, the dharma in Hinduism, and the Confucian emphasis on filial piety all exemplify religion's role in codifying moral behavior. These weren't just abstract principles—they were practical solutions to the challenge of maintaining social order among growing populations. By providing clear, divinely sanctioned rules for behavior, religious codes reduced the social friction that might otherwise have torn early large-scale societies apart.
These guidelines did more than regulate individual conduct—they created standardized patterns of behavior that made social interactions more predictable and stable. A merchant from Damascus could trade confidently with a stranger from Baghdad because they shared not just a god, but an entire framework of moral and social expectations. Religion thus served as humanity's first international commercial law, long before modern legal systems emerged.
The power of religion to foster cooperation extended beyond formal institutions. Religious narratives provided shared mental models that helped people make sense of their world and their place in it. Whether through stories of divine creation, tales of heroic ancestors, or parables about moral behavior, religion gave people a common framework for understanding reality and making decisions. This shared worldview made it easier for large groups to coordinate their actions and work toward common goals.
This era reshaped human consciousness, introducing ideas that transcended local traditions and fostered universal principles. The Axial Age religions laid the groundwork for ethical systems that continue to influence billions of lives today.
The Marriage of Religion and Power: A Dangerous Liaison

Throughout history, political leaders have found religion an invaluable ally in maintaining power. From Egyptian pharaohs claiming divine status to European monarchs ruling by "divine right," religion provided authority with a powerful legitimizing force. This marriage of convenience served both parties: religious institutions gained worldly power, while secular authorities received divine sanction.
This symbiotic relationship could be seen in the extreme case of Henry VIII, who, frustrated by the Catholic Church's refusal to grant him an annulment, simply created his own church, demonstrating the potent blend of religious and political ambition. Another notable example is the forced conversion of Iran from Sunni to Shia Islam, as the Safavid Dynasty worked to forge a new identity separate from the Sunni Ottoman Empire after conquering Tabriz in 1501. (4)
This union of religion and power not only reinforced hierarchies but also enabled large-scale projects—from cathedral building to military conquests—that would have been inconceivable without a shared belief in divine purpose. However, this merger also entrenched inequalities and stifled dissent, as questioning religious authority often amounted to questioning the state.
The alliance between religion and power proved remarkably enduring, persisting across millennia and diverse societies. Even today, many nations maintain official state religions, while political leaders in nominally secular countries often employ religious rhetoric to rally support.
Progress and Stagnation

Religion's relationship with human progress defies simple categorization. Socrates’ trial and execution for “corrupting the youth” serves as a stark reminder of how the pursuit of truth can be met with fierce opposition when it challenges established religious and social order. The medieval Church's relationship with science was particularly complex. The same institution that threatened to burn Galileo for his astronomical observations was also keeping careful astronomical records to determine Easter's date. Talk about complicated office politics.
This duality extended across most religions. In Baghdad's Golden Age, scholars could find themselves generously funded for translating Greek philosophical texts one decade, then seeing their books thrown into the Tigris River the next - depending on which theological
school held the Caliph's ear. The pursuit of knowledge, it seems, required careful attention to the prevailing theological winds, with the potential for sudden shifts and unexpected storms.
Likewise, during the Song Dynasty in China, scholars could find themselves generously rewarded for developing new astronomical instruments and mathematical theorems - but only if they could successfully argue that these innovations represented a "restoration" of ancient wisdom rather than novel discoveries. The brilliant polymath Shen Kuo had to carefully frame his magnetic compass innovations as implementations of classical Confucian principles about harmony with nature.
Medieval cathedral builders developed revolutionary architectural techniques to build ever-higher Gothic vaults, while simultaneously justifying each innovation through complex theological arguments about sacred geometry and divine proportion. Their experimental engineering had to be masked in the language of religious tradition - progress disguised as piety.
Meanwhile, the Church that often suppressed scientific inquiry also preserved classical knowledge through its monasteries. The monks of the Benedictine order weren't just copying biblical texts - they were maintaining vast libraries of ancient Greek and Roman works, developing advanced agricultural techniques, and even perfecting the art of brewing beer. The motto "pray and work" (ora et labora) often meant "pray and experiment."
The Rise of Secularism

The rise of modern institutions has gradually displaced religion's traditional functions. Nation-states now command primary loyalty, bureaucracies handle record-keeping, and secular law governs behavior. Science offers explanations for natural phenomena, while psychology and self-help movements address personal meaning-making.
Yet religion hasn't simply vanished—it has evolved. Modern ideologies – from liberalism, to nationalism, socialism, humanism, fascism, and even seemingly esoteric spiritual movements – function as "superhuman orders" much like religions, albeit without a deity. They offer a similar package of benefits: a shared narrative, a moral compass, and a sense of community.
These superhuman orders ground their authority in abstract concepts like "the nation," "humanity," "progress," or "the market." While these concepts are not supernatural beings, they function in a similar way, providing a framework that transcends the individual and justifies collective action.
Consider nationalism. It offers a compelling narrative of shared history, culture, and destiny, often invoking a glorious past and promising a brighter future. This narrative provides a sense of belonging and purpose, uniting individuals in a common cause. Nationalism also prescribes a moral code, dictating what is considered patriotic and virtuous, and what is considered treasonous and immoral. In many ways, the nation-state functions as a secular church, with its own rituals, symbols, and sacred texts. National anthems replace hymns, flags become sacred emblems, and national heroes become venerated saints.
Like traditional religions, modern ideologies offer meaning, belonging, and moral guidance. While the language and symbols may differ, the underlying human needs they address are remarkably similar. The rise of these superhuman orders is not the death of religion, but rather its transformation. Just as religious adherents might sacrifice personal gain for the glory of their faith, followers of these ideologies are often willing to make sacrifices for the good of the nation, the advancement of human rights, or the realization of a communist utopia.
Just like religions, modern ideologies also have a dark side. In fact, as Yuval Harari points out, if we compare these ideologies with traditional religions, then modernity turns out to be an age of intense religious fervor, unparalleled missionary efforts, and the bloodiest wars of religion in history. (5)
The Next Chapter

So, what does the future hold? Will humanity succumb to a new orthodoxy, or embrace a more nuanced, personalized form of spirituality, tailored to individual needs and desires? Or will we yield to the seductive allure of technological transcendence, seeking salvation not in prayer, but in neural implants and genetic engineering?
One thing is certain: humanity's quest for meaning, and our need to believe in something larger than ourselves, will continue to drive our history in unexpected ways.
(1) You can read further about this in the book "Inventing the Individual: The Origins of Western Liberalism" by Larry Siedentop.
(2) "The Great Miseries of War", "Les Grandes Misères de la Guerre" in French, a famous etching by Jacques Gallot in 1633. It is considered the first anti-war expression in European art. See Les Grandes Misères de la guerre - Wikipedia
(4) This entailed a forced conversion of the population, primarily for political purposes, to buttress a distinct Iranian identity and legitimize Safavid rule. This single-handed decision in 1501 was to have long lasting consequences in the region, and can still be seen today in the conflict between Iran and the Arab Sunni countries in the Middle East. See Shiʿi - Imams, Caliphs, Umayyads | Britannica and Safavid conversion of Iran to Shia Islam - Wikipedia
(5) Yuval Harari in "Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind"