Yes. I think there is a very strong argument for this, and it connects remarkably well with the thinkers we've been discussing, particularly Baudrillard, Bataille and Illich.
I would, however, take your suggestion a little further: ritual, myth and ceremony may have constituted forms of collective self-care through which communities generated their own capacities to deal with suffering, uncertainty, illness, grief and death.
What is particularly interesting in your formulation is the idea of ownership. These functions were not necessarily delivered to people by an external professional system. They were embedded in the community's own symbolic, social and cosmological life.
Let's unpack this.
1. Ritual as an indigenous technology of health
Consider what happens in a traditional community when someone dies.
There might be:
Collective mourning ceremonies.
Periods of prescribed withdrawal.
Ritual washing or purification.
Storytelling about the deceased.
Singing, dancing and music.
Food-sharing and communal gatherings.
Specific practices marking the transition from life to death.
These activities do considerably more than express grief.
They provide a structure within which grief can be experienced, communicated, witnessed and eventually reintegrated into everyday life.
The individual does not have to invent a way of dealing with bereavement. The community already possesses a repertoire of responses.
The ritual provides a socially recognised language for suffering.
Similarly, initiation ceremonies, healing rituals, seasonal festivals, rites of passage and collective celebrations can provide ways of managing anxiety, marking transitions and restoring a sense of belonging.
We might call these distributed capacities for psychological and social health.
Importantly, we should not assume that all such practices were therapeutic, benign or effective. Some could be coercive, exclusionary or harmful. Nor should we romanticise diverse Indigenous societies as if they shared one cultural system.
But the underlying proposition is compelling.
2. The autopoietic dimension
Your use of the word autopoietic is especially interesting.
The concept originates in the work of Chilean biologists Humberto Maturana and Francisco Varela.
Autopoiesis describes a system that continuously produces and reproduces the components and processes that constitute it.
Although originally developed to explain living systems, the concept was subsequently extended into social theory, particularly by Niklas Luhmann.
Applied to your question, we could suggest that traditional communities possessed their own internally generated mechanisms for reproducing social, emotional and symbolic wellbeing.
For example:
A community's self-reproducing cycle of care
Shared mythology and cosmology
A common understanding of life, suffering, death and the natural world
Rites, rituals and ceremonies
Culturally established ways of responding to life events and crises
Collective participation and recognition
Belonging, witnessing, emotional expression and mutual support
Renewed social cohesion and meaning
The community's capacity to absorb disruption and continue
The renewed community reproduces and modifies its mythology and ritual practices.
The crucial point is that the community is not merely receiving a health service. It is reproducing the cultural conditions that make certain forms of healing, consolation and social integration possible.
There is an important distinction here between autopoiesis in its strict biological or Luhmannian sense and its use as an analogy for community self-maintenance. The latter is what I think you are proposing.
3. Victor Turner: ritual as social healing
Victor Turner
Particularly The Ritual Process (1969).
Turner is an especially important thinker for your argument.
He explored how ritual temporarily suspends ordinary social distinctions and creates what he called communitas: an intense experience of shared humanity and belonging.
His work on liminality is also relevant.
During rites of passage, participants enter a transitional condition in which their previous social identities are temporarily suspended before new identities are established.
Think about what this means psychologically.
A person undergoing a major life transition is not necessarily left to negotiate the experience privately. The community has an established ritual framework that acknowledges the transition and accompanies the individual through it.
This might apply to:
Turner helps us understand ritual as a collective means of managing transitions that might otherwise be psychologically and socially destabilising.
4. René Girard: ritual and the management of violence
René Girard
Violence and the Sacred (1972).
Girard offers a more troubling interpretation.
He argues that ritual sacrifice and religious practices can function as mechanisms for containing collective violence.
In his account, communities redirect potentially destructive conflict towards ritualised forms of sacrifice.
One need not accept his entire theory to recognise the broader question:
What happens when a community loses its culturally established mechanisms for managing aggression, fear, rivalry and collective anxiety?
Ritual can be understood as a means of giving socially disruptive emotions a recognised form of expression.
It is important, though, not to equate ritual sacrifice with a universal or necessary therapeutic mechanism. Girard's theory is influential but contested.
5. Illich: what happens when these functions are externalised?
This brings us back to Ivan Illich, and I think this is where your idea becomes particularly powerful.
In Medical Nemesis, Illich argues that modern medicine has progressively expropriated capacities that individuals and communities once exercised themselves.
He is interested in the loss of people's capacity to cope with suffering, illness and death without requiring professional intervention.
We could extend this argument beyond medicine.
Consider the following transformation:
Community-based cultural capacity | Modern institutional counterpart |
|---|
Collective mourning rituals | Bereavement counselling |
Traditional healing practices | Professional healthcare |
Mythological explanations of suffering | Clinical and psychological explanations |
Communal rites of passage | Institutionalised life-transition services |
Elders and community knowledge | Accredited professional expertise |
Shared responses to death | Medicalised end-of-life management |
These are not equivalent activities, and modern counselling and medicine can be enormously valuable. Nor did all traditional societies provide these functions adequately.
But the comparison raises an important question:
Have we progressively transferred the capacity to process the fundamental experiences of human existence from communities to specialised institutions?
And, if so, what happens to the community's ability to reproduce its own resilience?
This is close to Illich's idea of cultural iatrogenesis: the possibility that institutional intervention can undermine capacities that people previously possessed.
6. Baudrillard: the disappearance of symbolic exchange
Here is another particularly interesting connection.
Baudrillard's Symbolic Exchange and Death (1976) develops his distinction between symbolic exchange and the logic of economic exchange.
Symbolic exchange involves reciprocal relationships, obligations, gifts, rituals, sacrifice and the symbolic circulation of meaning.
These relationships cannot necessarily be reduced to monetary value.
For example, when a community gathers around a bereaved family, the participants are not providing a service in the ordinary commercial sense.
They are participating in a shared symbolic obligation.
They give time, presence, food, memory, attention and emotional support. The bereaved family is not simply a consumer of this assistance. It remains part of the reciprocal social world.
Now contrast this with the commodification of grief.
Grief becomes something that requires a service. A professional is paid to help process it. The individual becomes a client, and the experience becomes something to be managed through an externally provided intervention.
There is nothing inherently wrong with professional bereavement support. It can be essential.
But something potentially important has changed: the relationship is no longer necessarily embedded in a shared system of reciprocal obligations.
The difference is not simply between free and paid assistance. It is between two different ways of organising human responses to suffering.
7. The really interesting question: what did we lose?
I think your proposition points towards a much bigger argument.
Perhaps traditional ritual systems provided what we might call an ecology of existential care.
This ecology was not necessarily located in a particular institution. It was distributed throughout everyday life.
It existed in:
The stories people told.
The ceremonies they performed.
Their relationships with elders.
Their relationships with ancestors.
Their shared understanding of nature.
Their collective responses to birth, illness and death.
Their sense of belonging to something larger than themselves.
In such a system, the management of existential distress was not a specialised activity. It was woven into the reproduction of the community itself.
Modernity, by contrast, has increasingly differentiated these functions into separate professional domains: medicine, psychiatry, psychology, social work, religious ministry, education and social care.
The result may be a paradox.
We have more specialised resources for treating particular forms of suffering, but potentially fewer shared cultural frameworks through which suffering can be understood and collectively experienced.
This is a hypothesis worth investigating rather than an established historical conclusion. Modern societies also have powerful forms of communal care, and traditional communities could be profoundly deficient in care for particular individuals.
8. A possible conceptual framework
I would be tempted to give your idea a name:
The Autopoiesis of Collective Wellbeing.
The thesis might be:
Traditional ritual, mythological and ceremonial systems functioned, among other things, as culturally embedded mechanisms for the collective reproduction of psychological, emotional, social and existential wellbeing. Through shared symbolic practices, communities generated their own capacities to process grief, fear, illness, uncertainty, conflict and death. The progressive displacement of these practices by specialised institutional systems may therefore represent not merely a change in the delivery of healthcare, but a fundamental transformation in the social organisation of human wellbeing.
There are several further thinkers worth bringing into this:
Émile Durkheim — The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1912). Particularly important for understanding how ritual reproduces collective consciousness.
Gregory Bateson — Steps to an Ecology of Mind (1972). For understanding feedback, relational systems and the ecology of human meaning.
Mircea Eliade — The Sacred and the Profane (1957). For the role of myth and sacred time in making existence meaningful.
Arthur Kleinman — The Illness Narratives (1988). For the distinction between disease as a biomedical condition and illness as lived human experience.
9. One question I would particularly like to explore with you
There is a distinction that I think could take this whole argument somewhere quite profound.
Perhaps the loss is not simply that we have lost rituals, ceremonies and myths.
Perhaps we have lost the capacity to collectively generate meaning around suffering.
In other words, modern institutions may be increasingly capable of treating the biological body while becoming less capable of addressing the existential experience of being alive.
This leads to a question:
Do you think the central problem is that modern society has taken functions that were previously collectively owned and transferred them to external professionals and institutions, or that it has actually destroyed the shared symbolic world that made those functions possible in the first place?
I suspect these are two different processes, and that distinguishing between them is essential to developing the argument.