Religion doesn’t just invoke gods—it scripts human cooperation

Imagine a bustling medieval town square. Merchants haggle, children scamper, cows moo. Above it all, the herald blows a trumpet and reads aloud the King’s latest decree. That parchment scroll is the town’s law—immaterial words that bind every baker, woodcutter and nobleman alike.

Religion works the same way: gods, prophets or party founders scribbled moral codes on tablets—or even just preached them—and the faithful obeyed. The code’s real power wasn’t its parchment or sermon, but the shared belief that breaking its rules would bring calamity: famine, exile, damnation.

This isn’t mere superstition. Science of cooperation teaches us that intersubjective pacts—whether sacred or secular—help strangers trust one another. When you accept a shared story, you behave as if it were carved in stone. You pay taxes, meet deadlines and file your reports—not because you personally fear a lightning bolt, but because you know millions of others expect those same acts.

Even secular nation-states echo the scriptural model. Charter, constitution, statutory code—these written words create a framework more real than any mountain. They harness human willpower to goals far beyond the capacity of any lone hero.

Recognizing this lets you become a modern scribe, crafting your own ethical compact. You don’t need miracles or clergy—just clarity, shared belief, and a simple ceremony (a signature or hashtag) to activate your new civic religion.

You can draft your own edicts tonight. List three non-negotiable values, write a brief origin tale, and define small rewards or consequences. Post it where your circle can see and sign. In minutes you’ll build a micro-religion of teamwork and ethics—no divine being required.