As a practicing shaman, I often find myself in a curious position when discussing animism. To many in modern society, it’s an outdated worldview, relegated to the realm of anthropology and psychoanalytic critique. But to me—and countless others who live and breathe its truths—it is a living, breathing reality that ties us to the Earth, its creatures, and the unseen energies that animate existence.
At its heart, animism is the recognition of spirit in all things. For millennia, shamanic traditions have seen animals not as mere resources or symbols but as living entities imbued with wisdom and power. Whether we call them allies, guides, or protectors, these beings are not “possessions” but reflections of energies that transcend rational understanding. In my practice, engaging with these energies through ritual, dreams, or trance is not insanity—it is a bridge to the nagual, the ineffable force that underpins existence.
Freud and the Western Lens
Freud, despite his towering influence in psychology, viewed animism through a narrow lens shaped by his cultural and academic biases. His attempts to explain totemism as rooted in incest taboos or Oedipal fears tell us more about his worldview than they do about animist practices. Freud’s insistence on grounding animism in pathology or primal anxiety ignores its spiritual and ecological dimensions.
The ‘savage’ perception of animist societies can be best understood by the work of Freud, who had an academic interest in animism within tribal cultures, theorising about the reasons for their totemistic structure. His pragmatic outlook could never accept actual spiritual connection and possession, but it is interesting to consider his theories relating to animism. He never actually experienced animist cultures; therefore he based his theories on the observations of various anthropologists. One was Reinach who saw the totem ‘as the visible representation of social religion among the races concerned: it embodies the community, which is the true object of their worship.’ Another was Haddon who associated animism with an increased efficiency in hunting. He believed that tribes would specialise in the hunting of one animal and therefore become good at this, trading this one product with other tribes who specialise in another product.
His main focus was on the work of Frazerr who originally based his theory on animism, to a belief in an external soul. ‘The totem according to this view, represented a safe place of refuge in which the soul could be deposited and so escape the dangers that threatened it.’
He later abandoned this theory, much to the approval of Freud, after hearing the sociological observations of Spencer and Gillen. ‘Frazer came to believe that prohibition against one’s own totem had blinded people to the more important element in the situation, namely the injunction to produce as much as possible of an edible totem to meet the needs of the people.’ Frazer later concluded that this argument was too rational for ‘savages’, it implied a social organisation that was too complicated for how he perceived ‘primitive’ people. He subsequently developed a third theory, that it was ‘the sick fancies of pregnant women.’
Freud also considered, but ignored, the opinions of many other ethnologists including Franz Boas and C. Hill Tout. They believed that the Totem was originally the guardian spirit of an ancestor, who acquired it in a dream and transmitted it to his ancestors.
Having considered many varying opinions to the origin and function of animism, Freud concluded that, predictably, it was related to an oedipal fear of incest, the mono-myth of Freud’s patriarchy. This belief was based on. Frazer’s inability to accept that there is an instinctive dislike of incest, which Freud unsurprisingly agreed with. His insufficient and elitist argument was based on the observation that incest is common within modern society. He also noted that incest was prevalent in ancient civilisations such as amongst the royalty of Egypt; therefore his basic argument was if there is immorality now, there must have been amongst the ‘savages’ of animist cultures.
What Freud and his contemporaries failed to grasp is that animism is not just a set of beliefs but a way of being. It does not stem from fear or ignorance but from a profound sense of relationship—with the land, with animals, and with the unseen forces of creation. Freud may have theorized about incest taboos, but he overlooked the natural wisdom of animist cultures, which often intuitively structured their societies to align with the rhythms of the Earth and the preservation of genetic health.
Animism and Instinct
Freud’s assumptions about the “savage mind” collapse under scrutiny when we look to nature itself. Animals, unburdened by human consciousness, rarely violate instinctual taboos like incest. The drive to disperse, mate beyond bloodlines, and strengthen the gene pool is not just biological; it’s an intuitive harmony with the web of life. Animist societies, which often mimic the rhythms of the natural world, understood this far better than Freud gave them credit for.
Where Freud saw repression and control, animist societies saw balance and reciprocity. Hierarchies existed, but they were far less rigid than those of so-called “civilized” societies. The tribe was not a fragmented collection of nuclear families but an interconnected whole. The word for “mother” in some cultures, for example, extended to all the women of the group, reflecting a communal approach to caregiving and responsibility.
Civilization, Power, and the Distortion of Instinct
Civilization’s rise introduced hierarchies that disrupted this balance. In ancient societies like Egypt, power and resources became concentrated in the hands of a few, and incestuous practices were employed to preserve that power. What was once instinctual became manipulated, and the family unit shifted from an open, tribal network to a closed, paranoid fortress.
This shift was not born of animist wisdom but of greed and fear—products of a burgeoning consciousness that sought domination over the natural world. Unlike the predator that hunts only when hungry or the prey that grazes just enough, humans began to hoard, exploit, and control. This greed not only distorted natural instincts but also severed the sacred connection to the Earth that animism so beautifully preserves.
A Call for Reconnection
Critiques like Freud’s miss the point of animism entirely. It is not a primitive relic or a psychological quirk; it is a lifeway that offers profound lessons for our time. The environmental crises we face today—pollution, species extinction, resource depletion—stem from the very materialist, separatist mindset that Freud championed.
To live animistically is to see the world not as a collection of objects to be dominated but as a community of subjects to be honored. It is to understand that the spirit of the wolf, the eagle, or the tree is not a metaphor but a real presence, one that teaches us humility, cooperation, and gratitude.
Freud’s theories may have shaped modern psychology, but they are blind to the sacred. Animism, on the other hand, invites us to reawaken to the living cosmos—to step back into relationship with the Earth and all its inhabitants. As a shaman, I do not need Freud’s approval to honor the spirits I encounter. But perhaps, if he could have stepped outside his narrow academic framework, even he might have glimpsed the profound truth animism holds: that we are all threads in a vast, interconnected web, each one essential, each one sacred.