There is a part of the human psyche that wants to dwell forever in childhood, in a place of happy endings, comforted by the thought that as The Big Bad Wolf in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ met a sorry end, we can expect our own tribulations to end well.

When we had fearful and worrying moments as children we would, if we had attentive parents or carers, be comforted by their explanation that our anxiety had magnified our worries, and all would be well.

The message that ‘all will be well’ is one we have ingested all our lives.

This is the primary message of most religions, which is that if we adhere to a particular set of beliefs and code of living, the prospect of spending eternity suffering in Hell won’t materialise.

That all will be well in the end is the bread-and-butter message of political parties of all hues.

“If you vote for us”, they tell the electorate, “your aspirations to live a better life in a better society will be met.”

They assure us that unlike the other political parties, they have the magic formula to put everything right.

The transnational corporations also appeal to our Peter Pan yearning to live in a fantasy land of perpetual play, where the vile pirates, the threats to our wellbeing, are always defeated.

At this point in history when our frivolousness, ignorance and hubris have brought the Earth’s life support systems to the point of collapse, the infantile part of ourselves is more than willing to accept the message of the corporations that we will hasten the transition to the paradise of a Green economy through buying their supposed energy-saving, carbon-neutral, ecologically-sustainable, ethically-produced products.

In appealing to our primeval desire to be comforted, protected, and our wish for all our trials to have a happy outcome, Society’s pivotal institutions ask one simple thing of us, which is to place our faith in them.

That so many people do in no small measure accounts for wars that cause unimaginable suffering and trauma, deaths by the tens of thousands – and in some cases, millions, as has happened in the Democratic Republic of Congo, as well as the destruction of the natural and human-constructed world.

Our blind faith in the pivotal institutions helps account for climate breakdown, which in 2022 is thought to have caused the premature death of 60,000 people in Europe alone, and led to the rise of heat-related deaths in the United States by 95 per cent in the years 2010 to 2022.

Worldwide, hundreds of thousands of people die, and millions of others are displaced by climate breakdown every year.

Blind faith in our institutions allows for gross economic inequalities, which among other indignities means that billions live out their lives trapped in extreme poverty.

UN-Habitat inform us that in 2020, 1.1 billion people lived in slums – a figure that is expected to rise to 2 billion by 2030.

Rural areas also suffer from poverty, which the UN says is 17.2 per cent higher than in urban areas.

As we in Ireland know, poverty in the high-income countries is unacceptably high.

As a society, we need to awaken from our induced infantilism in regard to societal problems, and no longer passively accept the mantra of our pivotal institutions that ‘all will be well’ if we have sufficient faith, vote for them and buy their products.

Highlighting the pitfalls of not questioning those in authority, Frank Herbert, author of the bestselling 1965 novel, ‘Dune’, said in an interview with Mother Earth News in 1981 that he thought President John F. Kennedy was among the most dangerous leaders his country ever had.

This is not because he thought Kennedy was malevolent, but because people didn’t question him.

It is ironic that in spite of the emphasis society places on each new generation receiving a good education, and the widespread understanding that education is a life-long process, we don’t sufficiently question the soundness of the dominant political-economic paradigm, or the lived theology of our religious institutions.

In regards to the former, while the major political parties are emphatic in saying that they want fundamental change, each – without apparently being aware of their cognitive dissonance – advocate the very thing that is the cause of the rapid degradation of the biosphere, and so much human suffering: continual economic growth.

Consuming more means more mining; the poisoning of rivers, lakes and seas; an increase in the loss of biodiversity; air and noise pollution; traffic congestion; more indigenous communities being expelled from their ancestral lands; and rising temperatures.

As Joyetta Gupta writes in ‘Scientific America’ (March, 2024): “There are limits to our natural resources. At some point they run out, or we ruin them.”

Many religious people – perhaps the majority – accept without question the idea that the primary purpose in life is to ensure that they and their loved ones go to Heaven rather than Hell, or their equivalents.

The belief that of all the species that have existed in the 3.7billion years of life on Earth, Homo sapiens is the only one that is immortal, is the ultimate in exceptionalism, and gives license for humans to treat nonhuman beings as objects.

Within the framework of religious belief, it is reasonable to think that God did not create multiple forms of life for humans to mistreat – as in factory farming – or to destroy, through agricultural run-off, and exterminate.

The idea that ‘all will be made well’ by technological innovation in the form of electric vehicles, and solar-, wind- and nuclear-generated energy, is one of the most dangerous myths of our time, as it is so readily accepted by the Pater Pan part of our psychology.

This is our inclination to believe in implausible things such as that we can reduce our negative impact on the biosphere without changing our lifestyle, that there are no moral constraints on how we treat nonhuman nature, and that, regardless of our eco-callousness, all will be well in the end.