The secret society is an intermediary stage on the way to individuation. The individual is still relying on a collective organization to effect his differentiation for him; that is, he has not yet recognized that it is really the individual's task to differentiate himself from all the others and stand on his own feet. All collective identities, such as membership in organizations, support of "isms," and so on, interfere with the fulfillment of this task. Such collective identities are crutches for the lame, shields for the timid, beds for the lazy, nurseries for the irresponsible; but they are equally shelters for the poor and weak, a home port for the shipwrecked, the bosom of a family for orphans, a land of promise for disillusioned vagrants and weary pilgrims, a herd and a safe fold for lost sheep, and a mother providing nourishment and growth. It would therefore be wrong to regard this intermediary stage as a trap; on the contrary, for a long time to come it will represent the only possible form of existence for the individual, who nowadays seems more than ever threatened by anonymity. Collective organization is still so essential today that many consider it, with some justification, to be the final goal; whereas to call for further steps along the road to autonomy appears like arrogance or hubris, fantasticality, or simply folly. Nevertheless it may be that for sufficient reasons a man feels he must set out on his own feet along the road to wider realms. It may be that in all the garbs, shapes, forms, modes, and manners of life offered to him he does not find what is peculiarly necessary for him. He will go alone and be his own company. He will serve as his own group, consisting of a variety of opinions and tendencies—which need not necessarily be marching in the same direction.
— Carl Gustav Jung
Jung is careful here not to condemn what he is also moving beyond. The collective forms — secret society, lodge, movement, church, nation — are doing real work. They are doing the work the individual cannot yet do alone: they hold a person together, give shape to the day, assign a name to what is otherwise nameless dread. The mother-ratio runs through every item in that generous list: nourishment, shelter, a home port, a bosom. To feel its pull is not weakness. It is an accurate reading of what the collective offers.
But the pull is also the diagnostic fact. When belonging is doing the work of differentiation — when the group's identity substitutes for the one you have not yet managed to form — the relief is real and the cost is deferred, not cancelled. What gets deferred is precisely the encounter with "what is peculiarly necessary for him," which no collective can supply because it is, by definition, not collective. The individual who finally sets out alone does not step into freedom so much as into a company of interior voices that do not march in formation. Jung's phrase is exact and uncomfortable: you become your own group, which means you inherit the arguments, the competing directions, the minority opinions that the collective had been silencing. Autonomy, here, is not peace. It is the end of the arrangement that made the noise bearable from outside.
Carl Gustav Jung·Memories, Dreams, Reflections·1963