By studying the evolution of freedom of thought from the 16th to the 18th century,1 we highlighted how its expansion was stimulated by the growth of knowledge and techniques. Here, we will first emphasize another determining factor: the development of privacy. Once again, we will take the example of Montaigne, who will help us identify the social conditions for freedom of thought and, in doing so, extend the earlier critique of the concept of individualism.2
In the second part, we will examine a handful of transformations in idealizations, encouraged by freedom of thought, with the aim of demonstrating the continuity of the tendency to magnify. Thus, rather than depicting the phenomenon of secularization as a form of disenchantment or a metamorphosis of the religious, we will describe it as an evolution and diversification of idealizations. Finally, we will conclude by noting that the proliferation of idealizations complicates coexistence.
Privacy: The Cocoon of Freedom of Thought
Separate Spaces for Thinking
In the preface to Histoire de la vie privée (History of Privacy), Georges Duby explains that, together with Philippe Ariès, they
started from the obvious fact that, at all times and everywhere, the vocabulary has expressed the contrast, clearly perceived by common sense, between the public—open to the community of people and subject to the authority of its magistrates—and the private. That a particular, clearly defined area, is assigned to this part of existence that all languages describe as private: a zone of immunity offered for withdrawal, retreat, where everyone can lay down the arms and defenses they must carry when venturing into the public space; a place to relax, to feel at ease, in a ‘casual’ manner, freed from the ostentatious armor that provides protection outside.3
During the feudal era, no space was designated within a grand residence for individual solitude, except at the moment of death.4 Personal reflections questioning the dogmas and morals of their time mostly occurred in monasteries and universities (such as with Abelard, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, and William of Ockham), where monks had study rooms and individual cells allowing them to isolate themselves from their peers. At the end of the Middle Ages, in 15th-century Florence,
the concern for intimacy and interiority behind the family façade manifested itself through the division of rooms among family members, primarily benefiting the head of the household. He could withdraw to his studiolo, which was perhaps the only place where retreat from internal family management allowed the businessman, the pater familias, or the humanist to face himself in his singularity.5
The emergence of rooms where one could retreat from the world and engage in personal reflection coincided with the development of commerce and the expansion of the bourgeoisie. This period saw the flourishing of private writings, such as intimate journals with an Augustinian tone or chronicles documenting events for future remembrance. In these writings, individuals recorded events as they perceived and construed them, increasingly providing their perspectives and, at times, narrating episodes of their lives.6
A Privileged Space: The Library
During the Renaissance, the printing press facilitated the dissemination of books, and the rise of literacy encouraged reading—both aloud, as was customary, and silently, for a cultivated elite.7 Wealthy individuals could assemble personal libraries, as Montaigne did, making his library a place for reflection and writing. On its walls, he had inscribed in Latin:
In the year of Christ 1571, at the age of thirty-eight, on the eve of the calends of March, the anniversary of his birth, Michel de Montaigne, long weary of the servitude of the court of parliament and public office, still feeling able, withdrew to rest in the bosom of the learned Muses, in calm and security. He hopes that destiny will allow him to perfect this dwelling, these sweet paternal retreats, which he has dedicated to his freedom, tranquility, and leisure.8
Montaigne spent most of his days in his library, which provided him with the intimacy needed to think and question. This place of reflection is striking because it contrasts with the ancient model that Socrates represented for Montaigne. The former practiced philosophy in public spaces, engaging in lengthy dialogues with fellow citizens and, by the end of his life, leaving behind no writings. The latter withdrew to his castle’s library to deliberate with the help of books and to wield his quill extensively. In his Essays, Montaigne conversed with his contemporaries and the philosophers of the past by reporting their words and thoughts. He juxtaposed his literary knowledge with his experiences, particularly what nature taught him. The dialogue was therefore internal, in contrast to the external, face-to-face conversations between Socrates and his interlocutors.
Once again, Montaigne foreshadowed a modern approach that, as we have highlighted,9 lies at the origin of the expansion of freedom of thought. At a moderate distance from the world, he gave birth to a novel philosophy without disregarding the knowledge of his time, which was readily available in his library.
A Historically and Socially Situated Thought
The Wars of Religion deeply affected Montaigne. According to Richard Popkin, « he was personally, sometimes strongly, connected with figures actively involved in the conflict between the two religious camps. We do not know whether he aligned himself with one side or the other, but he became an apostle of tolerance and exerted some influence on the agreement formulated by Henri de Navarre when he became Henri IV and issued the Edict of Nantes, guaranteeing tolerance toward Protestants. »10
Montaigne’s epistemological uncertainty reflects the uncertainty of the times in which he lived. Structural beliefs were shaken by the wars, as well as by geographical discoveries and explorers’ accounts. The philosopher’s retreat to his château seems partly motivated by the social upheaval that unsettled him. Confronted with the fervor of convictions and idealizations leading to conflict, Montaigne chose peace and tranquility. From this perspective, his Essays represent a repeated search for philosophical foundations to navigate through the storm—a foundation he found in his faith, experiences, and in nature. Although his method differed from that of Socrates, parallels can be drawn between their respective conflict-ridden contexts (the Peloponnesian War for Socrates, and the Wars of Religion for Montaigne). Philosophical innovation often reaches its peak when the moral foundations of a society are called into question.
Placing Montaigne’s thought in its historical context reveals how much it was influenced by social factors, prevailing intellectual currents, and practices that were not exclusive to him. The diversity of these factors, combined with Montaigne’s open-mindedness and tolerance, contributed to the creation of an extraordinary body of work. In turn, this work shaped the minds of his era and those of future centuries. The individualism associated with the Essays is therefore not opposed to society; it is intrinsic to it.
Mutations of Idealizations
From Eschatology and Nature Worship to Progress
Montaigne’s skepticism also belongs to a context where science was still in its infancy compared to the advances of the 17th century. His criticisms of science, opposition to progress, and veneration of nature can be understood in light of the discordance of theories and a medicine that tended to worsen ailments rather than cure them:11
Science cannot be put in any other container than our mind: we consume it by acquiring it, and we leave the market either already contaminated or improved. Some sciences do nothing but burden and weigh us down instead of nourishing us, and others, under the guise of healing us, poison us.12
Cartesian certainty, reinforced by the scientific breakthroughs of the 17th century, stands in stark contrast to skepticism—so much so that Descartes was quickly accused, with his « evil genius » leading him to absolute doubt, of playing into the hands of the skeptics. What a chasm between Montaigne’s Pyrrhonism, which submits to nature, and Descartes’ assurance, which, aided by technical progress, envisions humanity mastering nature! This mastery
is not only desirable for inventing an infinite number of devices that would allow people to enjoy, without any toil, the fruits of the earth and all the conveniences found in it, but also primarily for the preservation of health, which is undoubtedly the first good and the foundation of all other goods in this life; for even the mind depends greatly on the temperament and disposition of the body’s organs, and if it is possible to find some means to generally make people wiser and more capable than they have been so far, I believe it is in medicine that it should be sought.13
As Albert Camus explains in The Rebel, a new faith in progress emerged, which Turgot, in 1750, clearly defined:
His discourse on the progress of the human spirit essentially reprises Bossuet’s universal history. Only the idea of progress replaces divine will. ‘The entire mass of humanity, through alternating calm and turmoil, good and evil, always advances, albeit slowly, toward greater perfection.’ This optimism provides the rhetorical foundation for Condorcet’s reflections.14
The idealizations of progress do not necessarily replace beliefs in a paradisiacal afterlife. For those who subscribe to them and lose their religious faith, these ideals act as substitutes. On a broader scale, they add to existing idealizations.
By the 18th century, distrust of science and progress had virtually disappeared from the philosophical landscape. Rousseau is one of the few exceptions, favoring nature over technology while advocating for the improvement of humanity. The idealizations of progress carried into the 19th century through the philosophies of history espoused by Comte, Hegel, and Marx. While Hegel attributed progress to the spirit, Marx grounded it in economics as the driver of history.
The world wars of the 20th century led to widespread disillusionment, reviving criticisms of progress and idealizations of nature. However, they did not halt the idealizations of progress, which received renewed vitality at the dawn of the 21st century with the democratization of computing and the rise of the internet. Today, these idealizations are particularly prominent among those who deny climate change or foresee, in the face of advancing artificial intelligence and robotics, an “augmented” human being.
From Myths to Fictions
Myths convey truths.15 They recount events set at the origins of time, explaining reality as it is—not as it is prosaically perceived. Truth, in ancient Greek culture, is intertwined with morality; it stems, for example, from justice in Parmenides’ philosophy.16 Similarly, in Christian culture, Jesus proclaims that he is the truth.
The epic form, idealizing male exploits, remained prevalent in medieval France through the « chanson de geste » and early novels. These works often explored three thematic groups:17 ancient Greece and Rome, the military feats of the Franks, and Arthurian adventures. Frequently, they included elements of courtly love, where a knight desires an unattainable lady, often because she is married. In these romances, the knight serves the woman he idolizes,18 reversing the subordination and devaluation of women typical of reality.
Alongside these myth-inspired narratives, from the 13th century onward, more realistic novels began to emerge, paralleling the rise of the bourgeoisie. Examples include the two versions of Roman de la Rose by Guillaume de Lorris and Jean Renart, and Jehan et Blonde.19 The marvels of Arthurian quests gave way to more familiar settings, fictional characters of modest origins, and interactions with historical figures.
In the 17th century, Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Quixote can be seen as a critique of the heroic or gallant themes of the Middle Ages.20 Its structure, centered on its protagonist, signaled the direction of future fiction. In 1678, the first novel considered modern, The Princess of Cleves by Madame de La Fayette, was published. By the 19th century, Romanticism and Realism cemented the novel as a literary genre, which has continued into the 20th century and beyond through film and television series.
Though no longer intended to convey religious truths, fictions still aim to transmit truths and/or moral values—or at least moral dilemmas. This was also true of the philosophical idealizations of the state of nature in the 17th and 18th centuries, fictions through which Western values were sedimented.
Focusing on contemporary series, and inspired by Stanley Cavell and Ludwig Wittgenstein, French philosopher Sandra Laugier observes that
the popularity of television series has led to a proliferation of publications on the subject. The dominant approach views series as a « mirror »: revealing a particular state of the world—moral, political, or societal.21.
However, series do more than reflect realities; they transmit « experiences and worldviews that stand on their own, much like philosophy. »22 They particularly communicate moral and emotional experiences, often eliciting empathy from viewers. Additionally, they engage viewers’ reasoning skills, world knowledge, and moral competencies.
Through their aesthetic format (long duration, weekly and seasonal regularity, often viewed in domestic settings), the attachment they foster to characters, and the democratization of their access via the internet (streaming, discussion forums, amateur creations), series provide a novel form of education. They express and transmit public issues, particularly for disseminating values.23
Moral idealizations remain pervasive in fiction—whether through the passion or love of romances, the altruistic love and compassion of medical dramas, the justice-revenge narratives of dramas, crime stories, and action films, or the solidarity and self-transcendence of feel-good movies. Just as rites bring myths to life, reading or watching fiction brings to life the moral ideals that drive us. Mythical idealizations have not disappeared with the genre; they have transformed and even multiplied! For instance, they can be found practically untouched in modern epics such as superhero films or sagas like Star Wars.
Even when cinematic or television fiction aims to denounce painful social situations or provoke ethical questions, more than simply reflecting or communicating values, it can carry aesthetic idealizations through the beauty, charm, or charisma of its actors, its settings, its imagery, its direction… Notably, actors are often likened to modern heroes who share, with their ancient counterparts, the loneliness of social peaks. Marilyn Monroe wrote in a 1961 letter, a year before her death:
Only parts of us will ever touch only parts of others — one’s own truth is just that really — one’s own truth. We can only share the part that is understood by within another’s knowing acceptable to the other — therefore so one is for most part alone.24
From the Soul to Personal Identity
Ancient Greek and Judeo-Christian cultures share a belief in the existence of a soul that survives the body, though not necessarily to its greater happiness. This spiritual principle has played a role in philosophical debates about being and, in recent centuries, the notion of personal identity. The latter is particularly significant in questions of moral responsibility.25 Here, we do not aim to delve into these debates but to question their persistence and, more broadly, to explore why certain ideas give rise to attachment or, conversely, provoke aversion. This approach is motivational, focusing on psychological and social dimensions.
Philosophers have often emphasized the issue of death, arguing that living well depends on our relationship with death, particularly, as Socrates believed, on our ability to learn how to die. In this view, the soul, its ideas, and the truths it carries respond to the dread of death and existential anxiety. They offer hope, consolation, or certainties, especially during times when humans face the forces of nature or history. It is worth noting that most ideas come from the society that transmits them to us, and attachment to these ideas reflects attachment to society itself. Socrates, for instance, remained loyal to Athens to the end, choosing to drink hemlock rather than exile himself from his city.
However, as technical mastery develops and individuals gain greater security and social independence, does the focus not shift? Secularization—the gradual distancing from religion—has, in the West, been accompanied by the rise of political ideologies associated with the idea of progress, offering new forms of hope. Today, ideologies have nearly vanished, leaving behind existing religious beliefs, material motivations, or personal beliefs—particularly the belief in a stable personal identity over time. Yet, does such a belief not conflict with the freedom to think?
It is essential to clarify that personal identity is not a fixed essence that defines a human being permanently. It is more commonly understood as a set of characteristics, including ideas with which an individual identifies. But why would one seek to ensure the permanence of personal identity if one allows for free thought and the questioning of ideas that have guided their thoughts and actions thus far? This leads us to a paradox in contemporary Western societies: the challenge of reconciling the permanence of ideals with the capacity to question them, particularly for reasons of scientific consistency or rationality. We will extend this reflection by examining the role of moral attachment, which significantly shapes personal identifications.
The Complexification of Cohabitation
Let us recap the reflection: the development of private life, beginning in the late Middle Ages, contributed to the expansion of freedom of thought, alongside the growth of knowledge and technology. These changes underline the social factors driving the intellectual movement that elevated the individual in relation to society—without, by any means, dismissing the latter.
Freedom of thought, in turn, has spurred a transformation and multiplication of idealizations, some examples of which we have explored here. These add to the previously discussed idealizations of freedom, power, love, and justice.26 Secularization did not boil down to a process of rationalization or disenchantment: the diversification of idealizations demonstrates the social persistence of the phenomenon of magnifying, setting unreachable goals, or creating worlds disconnected from reality.
A critical issue that emerged from this historical process is the continuity of self-delusion. Those who believed in an irreversible trend of rationalization themselves idealized the future—and the recent history of religious conflicts has provided a stark contradiction to this belief. However, this contradiction is not limited to religion. Idealizations remain omnipresent and are particularly evident today in the obsessions of autocrats and despots across the globe.
Given that idealizations play a role in shaping both collective and individual identities, their proliferation complicates coexistence. How can consensus be achieved when orientations diverge more and more within a single nation, and these orientations are difficult to challenge because they are defined by ideals?
Notes
1.↑ https://damiengimenez.fr/wpdgi_article_en/progress-and-limits-of-freedom-of-thought-in-europe-from-the-16th-to-the-18th-century/
2.↑ https://damiengimenez.fr/wpdgi_article_en/these-individualisms-which-are-based-on-idealizations-and-hinder-the-freedom-of-thought/
3.↑ Philippe Ariès et Georges Duby (dir.), Histoire de la vie privée, tome I. De l’Empire romain à l’an mil, Seuil, 1985, p. 10.
4.↑ Philippe Ariès et Georges Duby (dir.), Histoire de la vie privée, tome II. De l’Europe féodale à la Renaissance, Seuil, 1999, p. 505.
5.↑ Ibid., p. 532.
6.↑ Ibid., p. 546-547.
7.↑ Philippe Ariès et Georges Duby (dir.), Histoire de la vie privée, tome III. De la Renaissance aux Lumières, Seuil, 1999, p.122.
8.↑ Ibid., p. 135-136.
9.↑ https://damiengimenez.fr/wpdgi_article_en/progress-and-limits-of-freedom-of-thought-in-europe-from-the-16th-to-the-18th-century/
10.↑ Richard Popkin, Histoire du scepticisme, Agone, 2019.
11.↑ https://www.radiofrance.fr/franceinter/podcasts/un-ete-avec-montaigne/montaigne-et-les-medecins-6771791
12.↑ Michel de Montaigne, Les Essais en français moderne, Gallimard, 2009, III, XII, p. 1253.
13.↑ René Descartes, Discours de la méthode, Flammarion, 2000, p. 98.
14.↑ Albert Camus, L’homme révolté, Gallimard, 2016.
15.↑ Frankfort, Henry and Frankfort H.A., The Intellectual Adventure of Ancient Man: An Essay of Speculative Thought in the Ancient Near East (Oriental Institute Essays), University of Chicago Press, 2013 (1949).
16.↑ https://damiengimenez.fr/justice-verite-et-nature-dans-la-grece-du-ve-siecle-aec/ (not translated)
17.↑ https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_(litt%C3%A9rature)#Trois_mati%C3%A8res
18.↑ https://www.worldhistory.org/trans/fr/1-18065/lamour-courtois/
19.↑ https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_(litt%C3%A9rature)#En_prose_au_XIIIe_si%C3%A8cle
20.↑ https://www.universalis.fr/encyclopedie/roman-notion-de/
21.↑ Sandra Laugier, Nos vies en séries, Climats, 2019.
22.↑ Ibid.
23.↑ Ibid.
24.↑ https://www.themarginalian.org/2012/07/27/marilyn-monroe-fragments-poems/
25.↑ https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/identity-ethics/
26.↑ https://damiengimenez.fr/wpdgi_article_en/these-individualisms-which-are-based-on-idealizations-and-hinder-the-freedom-of-thought/ and
https://damiengimenez.fr/wpdgi_article_en/idealization-in-history/