Many consider William James the father of American psychology. James taught psychology and then philosophy at Harvard in the late 1800s and early 1900s, and his works have profoundly influenced political and intellectual figures, from Bertrand Russell to Jimmy Carter. The Varieties of Religious Experience is a compilation of lectures he gave in Scotland between 1901 and 1902 about the diversity and significance of personal religious life.

Man’s religious inclination is a significant and varied phenomenon that deserves the psychologist’s investigation as much as any other recurring mental state. It is therefore reasonable to attempt a survey and description of the tendencies toward religion.

Some might consider viewing religion from a psychological perspective as a degradation of the sacred,  an exercise that encourages a disenchantment with the sublime. Such an outcome would be the furthest thing from the author’s intent.

Neither institution nor ritual gets us very close to the heart of religious experience. This book has little to do with the humdrum Christian, Buddhist, or Muslim, who mindlessly observes ritual handed down to him for centuries or millennia. This variety of religion is man-made and largely driven by imitation and habit.

Of greater interest than these dreary followers of stale traditions and systematic theologies are the minds of trend-setters in religion, the founders of faiths and movements who do not pursue religion as a casual hobby, but are consumed by ardor for a spiritual encounter. There’s a kind of genius in these sorts of people, and as such, they are often prone to nervous instability, great depth of feeling, and unusual psychic encounters. They tend toward fixation, intransigence, inner turmoil, and melancholia. At times they might hear voices, see visions, fall into trances—in short, they experience many of the oddities that  a psychologist typically classifies as pathological. But it is these very tendencies that helps them establish spiritual authority. Surely, these are phenomena worthy of investigation.

Most books on the subject of religion attempt to define it. It is a far more difficult task than the authors would have us believe, and the great variety of definitions attests to the challenge. Moreover, the diversity of definitions shows that a single definition is insufficient to encompass the essence of religion. Religion is a collective term and without illuminating the numerous aspects of religion, we fall into the oversimplification that leads to dogmatism and absolutism.

Consider the word “government.” One could talk about the military, the police, the courts, the lawmakers, or the rights of the people. All of these would belong to the definition of the government, and a government could not function effectively without each of these components. Someone who truly understands government doesn’t bother with an all-encompassing definition. He is intimately acquainted with the concrete particulars and inner workings, and to insist on an abstraction would obscure more than clarify.

The same can be said about religious experience. Is it a feeling of dependence? elation? oneness? Is it linked to fear? to sexuality? Therefore, there is not a single, reducible religious sentiment, but a whole warehouse of emotions from which religion draws. The variety further suggests that there is likely no essential religious act or object of faith. When religion is spoken of in this book, it will refer to personal religious experience rather than institutional religion.

Can an account of a belief’s origin determine its significance? Psychology reveals to us that all belief, religious or non-religious, high or low, beneficial or morbid follows an organic process in becoming a belief. Therefore, to refute a spiritual claim on the grounds of its biological origins is illogical and capricious. All of our thoughts and emotions would be annulled by that reasoning. Even scientific theories and claims would not retain any value because they originate from a person at a particular time and place under a certain mental state. The organic origins of a mental state can’t discredit it—but neither can it be taken as proof of its validity.

To be clear, just because biological origins can’t help us evaluate mental states, doesn’t mean it’s impossible to do so. The criteria are simply different. Just because origins don’t validate or negate mental states, there are clearly some states that are superior to others. So how to we determine this?

Some states of mind are superior to others but for entirely different reasons. A state of mind is superior because of the immediate inner happiness that it generates, its fit with other opinions we already hold, and its usefulness to our needs. Sometimes these criteria do not mesh well with each other. For example, there might be something that brings inner happiness in the moment, but it may not be the truest thing (i.e., compared with the rest of life experienced). The drunk might experience immense happiness when he has a bottle in his hand, but drunkenness is hardly the ideal state when one considers the broader context.

Another example of dissonance between criteria of heightened inner state and usefulness would be the intense mystical experiences that some people encounter. These episodes can carry tremendous weight for the individuals involved, even if the conclusions that come from such events don’t accord with life more generally. Some people will place more weight on those moments; while others would look to long-term averages as a guide for action.

There are numerous sane, rational, and even remarkably intelligent individuals who report encounters with a presence, sometimes positive, and, other times, dreadful. Thousands of sincere Christians, for example, report positive experiences with the divine, common hallmarks of which are crises relieved by deepened sense of truth, hearing an audible voice, and an ongoing feeling of a divine presence pervading even the monotony of life.

Taken together, it would be disingenuous not to entertain the possibility of senses beyond what psychology typically takes seriously. Those who have these experiences seem as convinced of their reality as anyone else would be by their powers of sight or hearing. So convinced are people of these incidents that logic is usually powerless to dissuade them. They affect us far more deeply than logic ever could. It is possible that even among the well-educated, there are more than a few of you with deeply-held beliefs as a result of the unpicturable suddenly being pictured. And it’s also very likely that no argument, however sound, could compel you to reject that perception of truth.

Rationalism is often pitted against mysticism because rationalism expects articulated truth claims backed by empirical facts, and theories to be tested before conclusions can be formed. This is very useful in the sciences, but we must also acknowledge that rationality hardly encompasses the whole of a person’s mental activity. In fact, rationalism accounts for a very modest amount of our mental life. This superficial portion carries an air of superiority because it can be articulated. It can put down the supernatural  powerfully with logic and proofs. But it will fail to persuade because our intuitions reach down far deeper than logic ever can.

The unconscious, comprised of deeply-felt needs, longings, fears, and beliefs, impinges upon  consciousness with a force that logic, however innovative, will fail to tear down.

To the question of man’s main preoccupation, one obvious answer is happiness: how to acquire it and hang on to it—and how to get it back if lost. This is always the underlying motive for all our actions and all we are willing to put up with along the way.  The hedonist’s hunch seems correct, that our efforts revolve around finding happiness and avoiding pain.

Some have suggested that sustained enthusiasm or even mere laughter is participation in something religious. This would go too far, but such sustained enthusiasm can lead to a kind of religion, one of gratitude for the happiness to be found in existence. We also have to concede that religion—in its more nuanced and involved forms—can deeply enrich the inner life and generate a supernatural happiness, which is a welcome consolation, given how miserable existence can often be.

Some take this common connection between religion and happiness as evidence of a religious belief’s veracity. If a doctrine makes a man feel happy, he will readily adopt it. The doctrine sounds so good that it must be true. This is common but fallacious logic that religious men often fall into.

There are four qualities that characterize mystical experience:

One feature is ineffability. Ineffability refers to the indescribability of the experience. It’s a state of mind that can’t be put into words. Attempts at description fall disappointingly short, and to the person who’s never had direct experience (the author includes himself here), the weight and worth can’t be adequately conveyed with language.

More than indescribable, there’s a revelatory element to the mystic experience. There’s a feeling of knowledge and insight that goes deeper than articulated intellect. The experiences usually hold great authority in the mind of the person to whom these insights are revealed.

There’s also a temporal aspect of mystical experiences. They don’t last forever—usually half an hour, and never more than an hour or two—after which the revelatory glow diminishes and all returns to normal. Simply recalling the experience never reproduces the feeling with the same intensity, but the feeling never completely departs from a person either.

The final component of these mystical states is passivity. One can position himself to receive through focusing attention and adopting a certain posture, but these experiences can’t be summoned through strength of will. They are characterized by a dissolution of will and sometimes even of self. In some cases, the person feels possessed by another person stronger than himself. Even if the details of these experiences fade, there’s a deep sense of their importance.

These mystical states don’t carry any inherent authority. But in the case of the higher states, there is a noteworthy unity to experiences of intimate emotions and sentiments, the conclusions of which often resonate with religious and non-religious people alike. Taken on a case-by-case basis, however,  the authority of the experience is confined to the person who had the direct experience. It cannot be made a sweeping standard for all people.

Should we take it for granted that Man’s religious pursuits and environments be the same? Should they all be aligned in religious practice? Is it reason for despondence that there are so many different expressions of faith and ritual?

The answer to this is an resounding “No.” How would such alignment and uniformity even be possible with such diversity of culture, geography, and history? There are no two people on the planet who have the same experiences and struggles to navigate, so how could they utilize identical maps to find their way or arrive at the same conclusions about how to proceed? Each person’s perspective is a unique one, which requires a solution tailored to what he encounters. Some need to be toughened, others softened. Some must learn the humility to concede a point, others, the assertiveness to insist on theirs. As with the word religion, there is no single word or definition that encapsulates the divine. There are numerous purposes in life worthy of pursuit. Each pursuit, each disposition is a syllable that contributes to the completion of human nature’s overarching message. It is better for each person to stay true to his own experience rather than to live his life according to someone else's. Far from regrettable, it is to humanity’s, and our own personal, advantage.