Imagine this: a man welcomes a stranger into his home, convinced that he is a saint, a model of virtue. This man, Orgon, is not just impressed—he is utterly devoted, blindly worshipping his guest, Tartuffe, as a moral guide. No argument, no warning, no contradiction can shake his faith. In his eyes, Tartuffe is beyond reproach, the very embodiment of piety and righteousness. He bestows gifts upon him, offers his daughter’s hand in marriage, and even signs away his property, all in the name of this supposed holiness.
But while Orgon is mesmerized, those around him see the truth with growing frustration. His family warns him. His wife sets a trap. His son rebels. Even his own eyes eventually betray the truth. And yet, he refuses to see. He prefers to believe the lie, for the lie is comfortable. This is the tragedy (or rather, the comedy) of Molière’s Tartuffe.
But let’s pause for a moment. Haven’t we all met an Orgon? Or, if we dare look closer, haven’t we all been Orgon at some point? Why do we sometimes refuse to see what is right in front of us? Why do we cling to illusions when reality knocks at our door? Freud, Bion, and Sloterdijk offer us some fascinating clues.
Freud and the mechanism of denial
Freud (1927) introduced the concept of Verleugnung (denial or disavowal), a mechanism where the subject sees reality but chooses not to believe it. Unlike repression, where the truth is buried deep in the unconscious, denial operates on the surface: the subject knows but acts as if they do not. This is exactly what happens to Orgon. He hears his wife, Elmire, reveal Tartuffe’s deceit. He witnesses the evidence with his own eyes. Yet, for the longest time, he resists. Why? Because acknowledging the truth would mean facing his own foolishness, his misplaced trust, and the collapse of his belief system.
This is not just a 17th-century comedy — it is a deeply human tendency. We deny, we disavow, we pretend. And often, we do it not because we don’t know the truth, but because accepting it would require an internal transformation we are not ready for.
Bion and the arrogance of thought
Wilfred Bion (1962) offers another perspective. In his analysis of Oedipus Rex, he argues that Oedipus’ downfall is not simply fate — it is arrogance. Oedipus is told his destiny, but he refuses to believe it. He is warned, yet he presses forward, convinced of his own ability to escape the inevitable. Bion calls this a failure of thinking: a refusal to tolerate not knowing, a rejection of the emotional labor required to truly process reality.
Orgon, like Oedipus, falls into this trap. He is warned repeatedly, but his arrogance prevents him from integrating the truth. He does not lack information; he lacks the capacity to think with it. Bion would argue that this is not mere ignorance but a defense against emotional pain.
And isn’t this something we all experience? How often do we ignore what we already suspect to be true, simply because admitting it would be too painful?
Sloterdijk and the modern cynic
Peter Sloterdijk (1983) takes this even further. He describes modern cynicism as a condition in which people know that something is false but choose to act as if they believe it anyway. Unlike the naive believer who is truly deceived, the modern cynic knows — but shrugs, laughs, and carries on.
Now, what if Orgon is not just a fool but a cynic? What if, deep down, he knows that Tartuffe is not as saintly as he claims, but it is easier to play along than to face the disruption of truth?
This is where Tartuffe becomes eerily relevant to our world today. How often do we see people defending ideas, leaders, or beliefs that they suspect (or even know) to be false? Why? Because facing the truth means change, and change is uncomfortable. It is safer to remain blind — to pretend to believe.
The invitation to see
So, here’s the real question: are we willing to see?
Orgon’s tragedy (or lesson) is one that plays out in different forms every day, in politics, in relationships, and within our own minds. Whether through Freud’s denial, Bion’s arrogance, or Sloterdijk’s cynicism, we all have our reasons to resist truth. But if we take a moment to reflect, perhaps we can catch ourselves in the act — before the farce turns into tragedy.
Have you ever caught yourself ignoring a truth that was too inconvenient to accept? What do you think drives our selective blindness? Let’s discuss.
References
- Bion, W. R. (1962). Learning from Experience. Heinemann.
- Freud, S. (1927). Fetishism. In Standard Edition (Vol. 21, pp. 147-157). Hogarth Press.
- Sloterdijk, P. (1983). Critique of Cynical Reason. Suhrkamp.
- Molière. (1664). Le Tartuffe. Paris: Librairie Gallimard.
Molière (1622–1673) was a French playwright and actor, widely regarded as one of the greatest masters of comedy in Western literature. His works often satirized the hypocrisy of society, especially among religious and aristocratic figures.
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