I was recently considering why the concept of God appears so consistently throughout human history. I do not personally believe in a deity. The universe, as far as we can tell, appears to operate through cause and effect. The most common theistic arguments, the Big Bang, origins of the universe or humankind, and the idea of “something from nothing,” therefore demands the answer of requiring a "God", feel disingenuous to me. Too easy. It reminds me of our evolving from pre-history into explanations of our existence and experiences, especially unexplained experiences, as somehow, divinely evoked.
From an evolutionary standpoint, religion appears less as revealed truth and more as an early framework for managing the unknown, a provisional system that filled explanatory gaps until better tools emerged. When any institution positions itself as the exclusive authority on the nature of existence, that authority tends to consolidate. Over time, explanation becomes dogma, knowledge concentrates in the hands of a few, and power follows. Where power accumulates, the potential for abuse inevitably arises.
But recently, I saw something different.
Is what we call “God” primarily an attachment anchor, an explanation engine, or something else entirely? And if it is the function that matters rather than the entity itself, does the role traditionally filled by God persist even when belief in a deity is no longer necessary?
As scientific understanding expanded, religion became less necessary as an explanatory framework. Psychology also evolved out of philosophy, and science (I've explored this in depth, elsewhere). By the nineteenth century, this shift was already being articulated in cultural and philosophical terms, most famously in the claim that “God is dead,” not as a declaration of disbelief, but as an acknowledgment that traditional religious authority was losing its central role in explaining the world.
My shift, my small epiphany, came while watching Part II of Martin Scorsese’s George Harrison: Living in the Material World. Eric Clapton recounts wanting to date Harrison’s wife, Pattie Boyd. What struck him was Harrison’s reaction...or lack of one.
George was deeply immersed in meditation and in actively reducing his dependence on the material world. According to Clapton, Harrison appeared almost cavalier about the situation, far less emotionally disturbed than expected.
Why? One could argue he just didn't love her, or wasn't really "attached" to her. But I think that misses the point here, entirely.
That moment reframed the entire question for me.
God as a place to put attachment
Perhaps the core function of belief in God is not explanation at all, or "individual" (entity, "God"), but attachment management.
Instead of God being the ultimate answer to cosmic questions, God may function as a stable external anchor for emotional investment. A place to direct one’s primary attachment so that material things...possessions, status, even romantic partners...do not become the sole foundation of meaning.
If your spouse leaves you.
If your loved one dies.
If your world collapses.
Then the loss, while still painful, is not total. Your existence does not implode, because your emotional hierarchy does not rest entirely on fragile, impermanent things.
Seen this way, agape love of God is not about obedience or submission. It is about distributing emotional dependency upward, away from objects that inevitably fail us.
George Harrison was not indifferent. He was practicing non-attachment as psychological insulation.
Religion as an early emotional technology
Decades ago, psychological research explored something similar. In some experiments, belief in God was replaced with belief in an arbitrary object...a rock, a symbol, a ritual. The results were consistent: belief in an external agency improved resilience, persistence, and stress tolerance, regardless of whether the agent was real.
This suggests something important.
It is not God, per se, that produces these effects.
It is attention directed toward an external stabilizing reference point.
Religion, historically, bundled this function into a shared cultural system:
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a permanent presence
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a benevolent or coherent narrative
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communal reinforcement
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ritualized reminders
Science (while also, though not enough, psychology) eventually replaced religion as an explanatory framework for the physical world. But it did not replace religion’s role as an emotional regulator.
Attachment theory, scaled up
From the perspective of attachment theory, humans require a primary attachment figure to regulate fear, loss, and uncertainty. When that figure is another human, the bond is powerful but dangerously unstable.
Religion offers a workaround.
By relocating primary attachment to something imagined as eternal, benevolent, and always present, emotional volatility decreases. The system becomes less brittle.
This does not require belief in the supernatural. It only requires perceived continuity and meaning beyond the self.
That may explain why:
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belief persists even when explanations fail
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rituals matter even when doctrines are doubted
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people replace religion with ideology, nationalism, art, or identity when faith disappears
The nervous system does not care what the anchor is.
It only cares that one exists.
Is it God, or is it function?
This reframing does not suddenly make religion true in a metaphysical sense. But it does make it understandable, even inevitable.
Religion did not arise because humans were stupid.
It arose because unbuffered consciousness is psychologically brutal.
- Mortality awareness.
- Loss.
- Chaos.
- Lack of control.
Belief systems evolved as tools to soften those edges.
The danger, historically, has not been belief itself, but when the attachment object becomes coercive, absolute, or weaponized.
A different way of seeing belief
This is not an argument for God, nor a retreat from skepticism.
It is an acknowledgment that religion may have survived not because it explains the universe, but because it helps humans survive it.
And perhaps the real question is not whether God exists, but whether humans can function long-term without some form of stable external reference point...religious or otherwise.
Seen this way, belief is less about truth claims and more about where we place our deepest emotional weight.
That insight alone changes how I understand religion, even without believing in it.
When the majority of our attachment is invested in material things, status, or even other people, loss and threat can distort behavior. Fear of losing what we cling to most has always been capable of driving humans toward cruelty, violence, and self-destruction.
By contrast, systems that redirect primary attachment away from the material world reduce the pressure to defend, possess, or control at all costs.
If that stabilizing function can be achieved without supernatural belief, then we are not bound to religious frameworks themselves, only to the human need they once served. Alternatives exist that involve less social coercion, fewer complications, and a clearer relationship to reality.
Had such an orientation been more widely adopted long ago, it might have spared humanity an incalculable amount of suffering, cruelty, and unnecessary harm. Things we are still experiencing today.
That possibility alone is worth considering.
Cheers! Sláinte! Na zdravie!







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