Ever wonder why people from different parts of the world have such strikingly different customs, behaviors, and even temperaments? According to Voltaire, it’s not some mysterious essence of national identity—it’s climate.
Climate, geography, and the environment mold not only the way we live but also how we think, worship, and organize our societies. In his Philosophical Dictionary, Voltaire dives into the fascinating idea that geography shapes culture. And if you think that’s just some 18th-century musing, hang on—there’s a lot we can learn from this today.
The Climate Effect: Shaping Societies, Then and Now
Imagine a sweltering desert climate. The people rise with the sun, conserve their energy during the blistering midday heat, and their entire rhythm of life revolves around the harsh environment. Now picture a community in the far north—long winters, short growing seasons, and a focus on storing resources. According to Voltaire, this isn’t just survival—it’s the environment shaping a society’s national character.
And it’s not just ancient history. The cultural climate today is one driven by relentless innovation and long hours and has shaped a society obsessed with disruption and technological progress. People who thrive in this environment tend to embrace a fast-paced, competitive lifestyle, one that might feel completely foreign to someone living in, say, a quiet, rural village in Scandinavia. The environment we live in (whether physical or cultural) molds behaviors and attitudes.
Voltaire’s insight? The environment is always at work, shaping human behavior whether we’re conscious of it or not. What we often think of as “human nature” or national identity is deeply tied to the climate and geographical circumstances in which societies develop.
The Fluidity of Belief: From Pagan Gods to Christianity
Voltaire’s exploration of climate’s influence on religious observances makes a powerful point: belief systems evolve and change over time, often as the result of cultural and environmental factors. He drives this home by looking at how Christianity spread and supplanted the pagan religions across Europe.
The shift from paganism to Christianity in Europe lends a good example. Pagan traditions in Europe were tied to local environments—harvest festivals, rites honoring the sun, moon, and natural cycles. These gods—whether Frigg, Odin, or the spirits of sacred groves—were deeply connected to the land. And yet, Christianity, born in the deserts of the Middle East, spread across Europe and replaced these localized belief systems. This didn’t happen because Christianity was inherently superior. Instead, Christianity adapted and assimilated elements of these older practices. Think about how Christmas, originally tied to pagan solstice celebrations, was co-opted into a Christian holiday.
The shift didn’t happen overnight, nor was it a simple case of one belief system triumphing over another. As Christianity spread, it absorbed and reinterpreted local customs to make them its own. In northern Europe, for instance, the Norse pantheon of gods like Odin, Frigg, and Thor once held sway over the region. These gods were believed to govern the natural world and the fate of humanity, their rituals intertwined with the seasons and the environment. Christianity, a religion born in the arid regions of the Middle East, ultimately overran these ancient religions, but not without taking a few pages from their book.
But Voltaire’s point is bigger than just a history lesson. It’s about the overall fluidity of belief. What was once accepted as absolute truth—whether the worship of Odin or the belief in Christ—can be replaced or reshaped by the currents of time and cultural influence. If we strip away the emotional attachment we have to our current belief systems, we might see that our “truths” are no more permanent than those that came before. And if our beliefs are shaped by time, place, and opinion, are they really as universal or eternal as we think?
Observance vs. Creed: Climate’s Role in Rituals, Not Beliefs
Voltaire draws an interesting distinction between observances (the rituals and practices of religion) and creeds (the dogma or belief systems that define a religion). According to him, observances are heavily influenced by geography and climate. Take fasting during Ramadan, for example. The practice of abstaining from food and drink from sunrise to sunset would play out very differently in a hot, desert climate where conserving energy is crucial versus a temperate or northern region where the days are longer, and food storage is more accessible. The physical environment shapes the way religious practices are observed.
But creeds, Voltaire argues, are a different story. Creeds—the beliefs themselves—are not driven by climate but by opinion, which Voltaire calls the “fickle queen of the world.” Creeds are shaped by culture, philosophy, and social needs more than by the external environment. The idea that there is one God or many gods, or that salvation comes through faith, isn’t bound by geography but by cultural evolution.
Consider how Christianity was born in the Middle East, intellectually developed in places like Alexandria—a melting pot of Hellenistic and Jewish thought—and then took root in Europe, where pagan gods and druidic rituals once dominated. Christianity’s spread was driven by political and cultural forces rather than by any inherent universal truth. The very belief systems that seem to stand as eternal are, in Voltaire’s view, fluid constructs of history, shaped more by human opinion than any fixed, moral truth.
Questioning the Claim to Absolute Truth
Voltaire’s skepticism shines here. He challenges us to question the morality, governance, and social norms we often take for granted. How much of what we consider “truth” is simply a product of the environment we’ve inherited? How many of our customs, norms, and even moral beliefs are shaped by external forces we barely acknowledge?
The next time you hear a claim about a universal truth or absolute morality, remember Voltaire’s warning: such claims are often more flexible and transient than we’d like to admit. After all, the Norse gods were once as real and eternal to their followers as any modern-day deity. What we take as gospel truth is simply the latest chapter in a long history of human opinion, shaped by geography, politics, and cultural forces.
A Challenge to Think Critically
Voltaire leaves us with a powerful takeaway: don’t accept things at face value. Whether it’s a religious ritual, a social norm, or a moral truth, take a moment to consider its origins. Why do we believe what we believe? Are these beliefs timeless, or are they products of our environment and cultural history? When we start asking these questions, we open ourselves to a world of intellectual freedom—one where we can engage with others’ beliefs without feeling threatened and understand that our own truths are just as fluid.
Voltaire’s message isn’t about tearing down religion or morality—it’s about fostering tolerance and understanding by recognizing the impermanence of tradition and the relativity of truth. In an age where we still see conflicts arise over differences in belief systems, his call for skepticism and critical thinking is more relevant than ever.
This draft integrates more historical context and offers a modern example, while the questions aim to refine the argument and make it even more thought-provoking for today’s audience.